Caught by the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 1) Read online

  My therapist had helped me put the album together, each photo agonizingly chosen to evoke a memory or emotion. He’d designed exercises around the album but I could barely look at each photo for more than a moment. It brought the past to the present with such startling speed. If I wanted to get better, I knew I had to face it, even if it was only for a moment or two a day.

  It started slowly, baby photos of me and my brother. Those I didn’t mind. As the pages turned, I grew. Me and my dad on the slopes when I was little, him guiding me with a belt and straps around my waist. Suddenly, I was a teenager. A photo of my mom and brother at the finish line cheering, ringing loud cowbells. Even at that age there were signs for The Blizzard.

  My throat felt like it was squeezing shut. I gritted my teeth and turned the page, knowing what photo was next. Angela and I in our prom outfits, smiling, young, happy. Then it was my dad standing beside me on the podium, biting my gold metal between his teeth, arm slung over my shoulders. He looked so proud…

  Hot tears flooded my eyes but I tried to push through. The next photo was a profile shot of Angela and Mom at the line, waiting for me to finish a race I’d never complete. The following pages were filled not with photos, but newspaper clippings. I slipped my finger under the page, hand trembling as I willed myself to look. Instead, I slammed the album shut with a curse and jumped to my feet.

  “I need a walk,” I explained to the empty house. “I’m too tired for this right now.”

  Tellure Hollow was one of the cutest, smallest towns I’d ever been in. The snow and mountains made the whole area look like a postcard. After borrowing one of Kayla’s jackets and a pair of boots, I decided to grab my camera and walk into town. The excitement of being in a new place, such a different place, made me antsy. I wanted to throw myself into the experience head first.

  I must’ve taken a hundred photos as I walked down the hill. Everything grabbed my attention. The way the light glinted off the snow, making it look like a sea of diamonds. The way the tree branches hung heavy…the bright blue sky. The cold was invigorating and fresh, triggering my already overactive imagination.

  Daydreaming comes naturally to me. Usually, an idea or an image will trigger an avalanche of and then’s and what if’s. Before long, my new life in Tellure Hollow unveiled itself before me. I’d own a small but lucrative photography studio, not portraits, but artistic photography. The wealthy tourists would all fight over my work. With all the time I spent on the mountain, it was inevitable that I’d become a world-class skier. I’d probably start a program that organized free lessons to underprivileged kids, win some award, meet the President.

  By the time I reached the bottom of the hill, I was wrapped up in my own little dream world. I approached a bridge I hadn’t noticed when Kayla was driving up to the house. Thankful that I’d thought to buy fingerless gloves before I left, I lifted my camera to my eye and started snapping photos of the river. I crouched down and took a few shots between the ornate concrete design of the railing.

  One of things I love most about photography is how it favors the brave. To get some of the most incredible shots, you have to be willing to get down and dirty. You can’t be afraid to climb or hang or risk bodily harm for a good photo.

  I noticed the shadows from the bridge looked really cool on the rippling water below. There was a ridge of ice overhanging the edge of the rushing water that that caught my eye. I hooked my leg through one of the holes to secure myself, brushed away a patch of snow with my arm, and leaned over. Just as I was framing the shot, two big hands grabbed me around the waist and yanked me back.

  “Hey!” I shouted, spinning to see who’d grabbed me. I was suddenly face to face with a pair of smoldering hazel eyes that reminded me of a stormy ocean. I blinked a few times, refocusing on the guy’s face and holy shit, was he hot. His lean, chiseled face was hidden under a couple day’s worth of stubble. Shaggy brown hair stuck out of his black knit hat and that jaw…that jaw could’ve cut glass. His expression was confused, nearly angry, as if I’d put him out in some way. A list of obscenities caught in my throat, a strange choking sound coming out instead.

  “Hey, yourself. I just saved you from hypothermia. Don’t you know how dangerous that is?” His voice was deep, slow.

  We stood looking at each other for a moment before I realized his hands were still on my waist. A part of me wanted to step into his arms while another wanted to tear off my glove and slap him. Regaining a bit of my sense, I glared and pushed them away. “Like I give a shit. I was fine.”

  He licked his lower lip quickly and stepped back, half smiling at me. That smile could’ve bought him a ticket straight to Hollywood. “And they wonder why chivalry is dead.”

  Regardless of how hot he was, I didn’t appreciate being touched, an issue I hadn’t quite gotten over since dancing at Rick’s club. “You didn’t open a door for me. You nearly shoved me off a bridge,” I snapped.

  “That’s not the way I see it. I saved you from a near-certain death.” The way he said it so matter-of-factly drove me crazy. I huffed through my nose, feeling like a bull about to charge.

  “Whatever,” I said, turning to walk away. God, how infuriating! I’d just gotten into the zone and that shot was going to be amazing. After a few steps down the sidewalk, I spun back around, unable to drop an argument that easily. “You could’ve destroyed my camera.”

  “But I didn’t. The least you can do is buy me a drink to say thanks.” The half-smile turned into a full grin. What the hell is up with this guy? I had to give it to him, his delivery was smooth and straightforward without coming off as obnoxious. Still, I wasn’t about to let another pretty face sweet talk his way into my life. Not again. I tightened the scarf around my neck as he strolled closer. I wanted to turn and walk but couldn’t seem to pull my feet up.

  “Then at least let me buy you a drink to apologize for saving you.” His eyes were so intense I could barely stand to meet them. I felt unbalanced, like the world had begun to rotate around us. He reached out and touched my arm. I reacted without thinking, slapping his hand away with enough force to startle both of us.

  “Don’t touch me!” I snapped. I hated the shocked look on his face, like I was some kind of lunatic. I held my hands up defensively. “Listen, thank you, fuck you, whatever. Pick whichever one you find relevant and leave me alone.” Was this what I’d become? I didn’t know what else to say to him so I walked away…like I always do. I reached the other side of the bridge before the urge to look back became too much.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw him leaning against the railing, arms crossed, smirking as he watched me walk away. It made me want to slap and kiss him all the more. Instead, I just flipped him the bird and somehow, it felt better doing it with my fingerless gloves.

  I was trying to look cool as she walked away but internally I was already kicking myself. Seriously? That’s the way you’re talking to people now? That’s the way you treat a gorgeous girl like that? But it hadn’t been a total disaster. She had looked back and I was pretty sure I’d spotted a small smile on her face, hidden behind her hair. Alright, she’d flipped me off, but I liked a little attitude.

  I didn’t want to be a creep and watch her walk away, so I turned and headed in the opposite direction for a couple minutes before winding my way back home. It felt good to stretch my legs even though the cold aggravated the pins holding me together. Once back at the house and with my muscles nice and warm, I settled on the floor and started my physical therapy exercises. My therapists and doctors had done everything they could. Now, it was a matter of sticking to a strict regimen and listening to my body.

  That was the hardest part. I’d lived my entire life on the edge, pushing my body to the absolute limit. My dad always told me that real growth came when the pain kicked in. “If it’s hurtin’, it’s workin’,” he’d always say. I had to completely retrain the way I approached obstacles in my life. My PT was not only a physical battle to recover my body, but a mental one as well. Th
e therapists hadn’t helped much in that area. My instincts told me that Walt and his shop might be the best therapy for me.

  As I went through the routine, I found my mind drifting back to the girl on the bridge. I’d spotted her as I rounded the corner. Stunning. Gorgeous. The kind of girl guys fight over and fight to keep. She seemed so wrapped up in taking those pictures, I didn’t feel like she’d catch me watching. It was like she was seeing snow for the first time. At one point, she’d picked up a handful of it and threw it in the air, just to watch it scatter in the breeze.

  When she leaned over that edge, I was sure she was going to slip and fall in. I’d run to her before I’d even realized it, my feet carrying me across the road and leaving my self-imposed hermit life behind. When she spun around and I looked into those amazing ice blue eyes, I’d felt that pull. God, I hadn’t felt that sort of pull towards a woman in forever. Years. I wanted to kiss the red flush on her cheeks, taste her lips…

  I sat up with a grunt, wiping the sweat from my face. I didn’t come to Tellure Hollow to scramble my brain any further, no matter how pretty she was. I got to my feet like an old man with arthritis and walked to the bathroom. As the shower heated up, I looked myself over in the mirror. This was the one thing the shrinks had been able to help me with. After months of therapy, I was finally able to look at myself without wanting to scream or tear my world apart.

  My eyes traced the diagonal scar that ran from my left shoulder down towards my chest. I didn’t allow myself to look any further down to my hips and legs, but I knew what was there. As the mirror began to fog and I stepped into the shower, I wondered how that girl would react if she saw my scars. I hadn’t been with anyone since the accident…

  “Christ, dude, she cursed you out and walked away without saying goodbye,” I muttered. True, but she did look back, said a voice in my head.

  ____________

  The Gritty Cask was a lot better than I’d hoped. With a small brewery in the back and a bar menu with real food, it was a welcome slice of civilization. I’d always found ski towns were hit or miss when it came to good food and drink. After an hour in the bar, I felt right at home.

  The crowd seemed to be a good mix of locals and tourists, all blissfully coexisting with the help of a little liquid lubricant. I’d stuffed my stomach with the first hot meal I’d eaten in days and found myself playing pool with Dale. He was at least ten years older and a hundred pounds heavier, the kind of guy I’d want behind me in a fight.

  “So you make snow up at Powder Mountain?” I asked as he took his shot. He missed the seven and sunk the cue ball with a curse.

  “Don’t you mean Angel Vista?” he said with disgust.

  I frowned, wiping the blue chalk on my jeans. “I didn’t know there was another resort around here.”

  “There ain’t. They went and changed the name, if you can believe it. Who does that? Who changes the name of a goddamn mountain?” He took a big gulp of his black stout and slammed it back down on the table, froth spilling over the edge.

  “I don’t know, man. Did someone buy it?” I bent down, my hip screaming in pain. I nicked the side of the one ball and knocked the nine into the corner pocket. “It’s kind of rare when a mountain isn’t privately owned.”

  Dale’s eyes glimmered with an anger enhanced by three pints of Guinness. “That mountain belongs to us. Our families settled here and that dickhead Richards comes in here, flashing his money around, and buys our goddamn mountain?” Small droplets of spittle fell on his ginger beard as he spoke, his voice growing louder with each word.

  An equally large guy in a Polaris hat appeared from the crowd and clapped Dale on the shoulder. “Hey man, take it easy. The guy’s kid is over there.” He tilted his head to the far corner of the bar where a mix of guys and girls were playing quarters. “From what I hear, the kid’s just as bad.”

  The guy he pointed to was the blond asshole from the street earlier and wouldn’t you know it, he had his arm slung around the gorgeous girl from the bridge. Figures. Just my luck. I turned away and took a sip of beer. Better off. I have to concentrate on getting healthy, I thought. Still, I was disappointed she was already here with someone.

  “Ever since that guy bought the mountain, things have been changin’ around here. All these out-a-towners, no offense, they bring in drugs, get into trouble. Used to be a nice quiet place you could raise a family in, but not anymore,” Dale grew quiet but a vein still prominently throbbed on his neck. He glanced at the pool table and chucked his stick down. “Screw this. I need a smoke. Hey, good meeting ya Bryan. I just need to cool off,” he said as he nearly crushed my hand in his strong fist.

  “No worries,” I replied. Even after one day in town, I’d gotten a good lay of the land. It hadn’t even occurred to me to research the mountain before I packed my stuff and drove up. Powder Mountain had always been a local gem. The resort and town didn’t have the glitz and amenities as other resorts. Anyone who found their way to the town did so because they were serious about skiing, not spa days and Michelin star restaurants.

  I grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a water. My doctor had prescribed a new pain med a couple weeks before I’d left and I hadn’t tried drinking while on it yet. Already, my one beer felt like three. Shockingly, my stomach rumbled. Just as I was about to reach for the menu to order a second dinner, a delicate arm appeared from behind me and set a full shot glass down.

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  My heart skipped when I heard her voice but I also cringed. Our first meeting had been a disaster. Still, I smiled to myself but didn’t turn, my eyes focused on her reflection in the mirror in front of me. “So you decided that’s what happened?” I kept my voice low.

  “I think you thought you were saving me, which I didn’t need by the way, but I figure it’s the thought that counts. Here. Peace.” She nudged the shot glass closer to me.

  “And what if I was just looking to grope you a little? I’m walking along, see a pretty girl bent over, figure what the hell? Worst thing she can do is slap me.” I said it with a shrug, hoping she was the kind of girl who could take a joke. Please, please, be the kind of girl who can take a joke because that came out a lot gruffer than I’d intended.

  “That’s cute.”

  I finally turned on my barstool, meeting her gaze directly. Her blue eyes had softened since I’d last looked into them, but there was still a bit of an edge. I had to fight every instinct to keep my gaze from traveling down to her chest. The gray sweater she wore hugged her curves like it was painted on.

  “What’s cute, exactly?”

  “That you think a slap is the worst thing I could do to you.” Her nostrils flared a little. I could already tell she was that awesome combination of cute and sexy, smart and mouthy. Damnit. I really was in trouble with this one. Nothing turned me on more than a girl who could banter.

  “Let’s start over. I’m Bryan.” I held my hand out. She glanced at it and her smile broadened. That smile warmed places inside me that’d been cold for far too long.

  She slipped her soft hand in mine. “Liz. Well, Elizabeth,” she corrected as she sat beside me. “Beth, Lizzy, Eliza. Everyone seems to pick their favorite.”

  “Multiple personalities?” I ask arching my eyebrow.

  Liz glanced at me out of the corner of her eye before knocking back her shot. “Something like that.”

  I traced the lip of the shot with my finger as I debated whether or not to drink it. I was already feeling fuzzy but I didn’t want to ruin the peace offering and risk running her off again. After promising myself I’d drink extra water to compensate, I downed it. I tried my best to take it like a man but I involuntarily shuddered as the liquid burned down my throat. I coughed into my fist and looked at her accusatorily.

  “What the fuck was that?” I said between coughs.

  “Fireball,” she giggled.

  I coughed again and squinted at her with watering eyes. “I think that was the worst thing you could’ve
done to me.” I took a big gulp of water to cool the burning.

  “Not quite. You pick the next round, then,” she said, giving my arm a playful slap.

  My heart stopped for a moment. She wants to stay for another round! Her forwardness was perfect. I’d been out of the game for so long that I wouldn’t have ever been able to approach her. All I had to do was not screw it up.

  A girl shouted in celebration from across the room. She was in the group with the owner’s son, jumping up and down like she’d just won the World Series. Liz turned to look over her far shoulder and I took the opportunity to really take her in. Her brown hair was pulled back in a high pony tail, just brushing the tops of her shoulders as she turned her head. Even sitting, I could tell her proportions were knockout. Just looking at her thin waist and round hips drove me out of my mind. If this girl wasn’t a model, she was seriously wasting her God-given assets. Before I could get too worked up, I looked away and cleared my throat, drawing her attention.

  “So Liz, what’s the most dangerous place you’ve ever taken a photo?” My voice sounded like I hadn’t used it in years and for the life of me, I couldn’t swallow my nerves.

  She tilted her head at me, surprised by the question. She looked up, deep in thought. “Hmmm, that’s a good question. I’ve shot rodeos before, but that’s not too scary. I’ve done drag races.” She counted each one on a finger until her eyes went wide. Jumping up in her seat like she’d sat on a tack, she exclaimed, “Oh, I know!” She grabbed my knee as she continued. “I was on the edge of a big dune at the beach during a hurricane. I was on my stomach leaning over the edge and it was sketchy, like, really sketchy. I wanted to get a shot of the foam shooting up into the air but I wasn’t thinking. The ridge on the dune had been formed because the waves were eroding it all away. I remember feeling the sand shift underneath my elbows and I barely managed to roll away before it collapsed under me.”

  Between the intensity of her eyes and being touched by a woman for the first time in years, it was difficult to concentrate. “Wow, okay. You have some type of death wish with water?”