Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3)(7)

Kevin watched from behind. “Jesse, you throw high. Ben, go low.”

“Got it. On three,” Jesse said. “One, two, three.”

He threw his charge, aiming for the top of the cornice. “Fire in the hole!”

They skied away, taking cover behind a large boulder, the seconds ticking by.

BAM!

A cloud of snow fell around them, bits of rock striking the boulder.

They skied out from behind their cover to find the cornice gone, its weight of snow scattered on the slope below them.

Kevin opened his mouth to say something but was cut off.

WHOOMP!

A deep rumble filled the air as the snow on the slope below them shifted.

Kevin grinned. “This slope is primed to slide.”

“So … more charges then?” asked Ben.

“Yep.”

Jesse got to work building more bombs.



*

By late afternoon, Ellie’s sore throat and fever were gone. Daniel was feeling better, too, judging from the way he bounded around the house in his Superman pajamas, little cape fluttering behind him.

Thank God for antibiotics.

Certain they all needed something healthful and restoring for supper, she decided to make chicken soup from scratch using some frozen chicken stock she’d made during the holidays. Her vision of how the evening would go—the kids playing peacefully in the playroom while she cooked and listened to NPR in the kitchen—was not at all how things turned out.

She’d just begun sautéing an onion when she heard Daisy wail. She wiped her hands on a towel and hurried to the playroom to find her little girl in tears.

“Danny fwoo a bock,” she sobbed, holding her right cheek.

“Let me see.” Ellie kissed her. “You’re going to be okay.”

Then she turned to Daniel, who stood there looking like he might cry, too. “Did you throw a block at your sister?”

Daniel wasn’t yet as verbal as Daisy, which left him at a distinct disadvantage when it came to these situations. “Day boke it.”

“She broke something you built?”

He nodded, despair and tears filling his blue eyes, his lower lip quivering.

“That’s not a reason to hit your sister. You hurt her. See?” She touched her finger to the red mark on Daisy’s cheek.

This was too much for Daniel, who probably hadn’t meant to hurt his sister. He began to cry, too.

Ellie resisted the urge to hug them both and stayed focused on the lesson. “Tell Daisy you’re sorry.”

He managed to get the words out amid his tears. “Sowwy, Day.”

Ellie looked at her daughter. “You upset Daniel when you knocked over his blocks. That wasn’t a nice thing to do.”

Daisy’s lower lip quivered. “It was too taw.”

“Too tall?” Ellie had to bite back a smile. “Daniel can build whatever he wants to build. You don’t get to decide what’s too tall. That’s not your choice to make. Now, what do you say to your brother?”

“Sowwy, Danny.”

And peace was restored.

Unfortunately, she’d left the stove on, and the onion was burned, leaving her to start over.

Ten minutes later, Daniel tripped and bumped his head on the floor. Then Daisy shut her finger in the toy box. No real damage was done in either case—except to Ellie’s nerves. In the end, she did what she swore she’d never do. She popped in a DVD and left Elmo to babysit the kids while she made dinner.

Life as a single mother was anything but graceful.



*

Jesse dropped down the ridge into Snow in Summer, a dense glade that cut from Eagle Ridge toward the double-blacks below. His skis surfed through the powder, sent it billowing into his face, a cloud of cold white. Face shots and fresh powder. Did winter get any better than this?

Of course, he wasn’t up here to have fun. It was closing time after a long and busy day. His job now was to sweep the double-blacks and glades to make sure no guests were left behind when the slopes closed. He’d already caught a pair of losers trying to make their way uphill outside the resort boundary for one last run. They hadn’t liked him much when he’d revoked their season passes for two weeks.

“You want to break the rules? You gotta pay.”

But now the slopes were empty, not a soul in sight.

Jesse let skis and snow carry him, the day’s tension melting away.

A glimpse of red.

Jesse stopped, then skied off into the trees for a closer look. Someone had probably lost a glove or something.

No, not a glove. It was a boot—and the boot was attached to a leg.

Adrenaline shot through Jesse’s veins. “Son of a bitch.”

He bent down, moved snow away with his hands, and found a young man upside down in a tree well, dried blood on his forehead. He reached down and felt for a pulse, certain the kid was dead.

The lucky bastard was still alive.

Jesse reached for his hand mic. “Forty-two to dispatch.”

Matt’s voice came back to him. “Go ahead.”

“Code 3, Snow in Summer. I’ve got an unconscious man, probably mid-twenties, upside down in a tree well. It looks like he hit the tree with his head as he fell headfirst into the well. No helmet. Suspected head injury, possible internal injuries and spinal cord trauma. We’re going to need a chopper.”