Sweet & Sassy Anthology: Stormy Kisses Page 8

  The only thing I could see was a nasty bump on his head. He had a concussion at best, and at worst—no, I couldn’t think about that. Not right now.

  I slumped into sitting position. My knee wouldn’t let me walk, and poor Micah was paying dearly for sticking around to help me.

  Silence settled in, punctuated by the occasional snapping branch. The meadow we’d stood in earlier—an avalanche run, I saw now—had been scraped clean as if by a giant butcher knife. Broken trees, scalped right in half and stacked one on top of the other, were all that remained. I didn’t even recognize the forest now.

  I raised my face to the sky. How long could two injured people survive without food and shelter? Micah needed medical attention. I had to get him back somehow.

  “Micah,” I whispered, brushing my gloved fingers on his face. “Stay with me. I’ll figure this out.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Cradling Micah’s head in my lap, I sat there and listened to the forest. There had to be a solution. I refused to believe otherwise.

  I thought of the people I’d surrounded myself with since finishing grad school. My boss at the cell phone company, my coworkers. Sofia and her not-so-gentle prodding, pushing me to become the best version of myself. Micah, brutally honest even when he didn’t have to be.

  My mom. She’d always been a religious person. Perhaps she knelt even now, pouring out her soul in the hope I’d be found. Was she dating someone new? I didn’t even know. I hadn’t called her in far too long.

  If I didn’t survive this, my boss would replace me relatively quickly. It didn’t take that much skill to sell a phone. I’d grown so accustomed to the money that I’d sold out my dreams, my goals. In combining my love of math with relationships, I’d found something I loved, something that made me unique. Perhaps Sofia was right. I should have started my consulting business long ago.

  A tiny part of me had to admit that it wasn’t the money that had held me back. It was crippling doubt. How could I help others find love when I seemed so utterly incapable of it myself? I teased Sofia about her record, but at least she was trying. I’d simply given up after a single heartbreak.

  Micah and I had both gone through the same event, and it had changed us both. I’d become more bitter, and he’d become more caring. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but I desperately wanted to ask. I wanted to have dinner with him, to discuss my book, to laugh about chick flicks. To ski together. I’d never even assigned him a number. He seemed above all that somehow.

  I needed him. It had taken an avalanche to make me see it, and now we were both in serious trouble.

  I slipped my phone out of my pocket and turned it on. A moment later, the time displayed. 11:12 a.m. There was only 11 percent battery charge left and zero bars of connectivity.

  I glanced at Micah’s still form, then at the destruction the avalanche had left in its wake, then at the cell again. The phone wouldn’t work for much longer.

  I knew exactly what I had to do.

  ***

  The one good thing about the avalanche was that it had ripped away much of the new snow layer. All that remained was the harder, ice-packed layer. Far more conducive to my walking-stick/crutch contraption.

  I had to modify my gait, of course, but I managed to hobble and hop and swing my way up the mountain along the path the avalanche had gone. Occasionally broken trees would twitch as the snow sifted downward over time, scaring me nearly out of my boots. But I refused to look away from my goal: the mountain peak.

  My knee was a constant flame now, although it was easier to ignore the pain as time went on. Maybe the cold had numbed my body to the point that I was in survival mode. The world did seem to spin and lurch around me. Even my stomach had quieted, allowing me to focus on each agonizing step forward and upward.

  One. Two. Twenty. One hundred.

  An hour after I’d begun my solitary journey, I looked upward. The peak had seemed so much closer earlier. Now I realized just how far it really was and how tiny I stood against the backdrop of a massive mountain. Several hundred yards ahead extended an outcropping that overlooked the valley. Gathering what remained of my energy, I made that my goal. There I could go, but no farther. It was there I would send for help or collapse, never to move again.

  When I reached it, I sighed and sank to the rocky ground, positioning myself to look over the valley. Any other day it would have been a beautiful sight. Now it simply reminded me of just how alone I was.

  “This had better work.” Micah’s life depended on it. I’d situated him as comfortably as I could, but that bump on his head had been shockingly large. He needed a doctor, not a scared woman who couldn’t even walk.

  I removed my glove and slid my phone out of my pocket. With a shaking hand, I held down the power button. It took a second longer than usual to power on, but there was the time: 12:48 p.m.

  My gaze leaped to the bars, then I slumped in disappointment. Still no signal, not even up here. Seven percent battery.

  I tried to remember what the authorities had said about the missing hiker I’d helped find at work. Simply turning on my phone at a high altitude would have pinged the tower, or so they’d said. But it was impossible to know for sure. What if I wasn’t high enough?

  I dialed 911 and held the phone up to my ear. “Please, please, please.”

  The phone beeped in my ear.

  I tried twice more before giving up.

  Checking my texts yielded nothing new since yesterday morning. I’d been able to receive texts from Sofia at the lodge even without a signal, though, so it was worth a try.

  Sofia, did you make it to the lodge safely?

  I hit send and waited.

  Nothing.

  I checked the message. It hadn’t gone through. I tried sending it again. This time it said it had gone through. I waited one minute, then two. Then five. No reply.

  Concern welled up in my stomach again. Sofia would definitely have answered if she could.

  I sent two more texts to her and one to my mom, begging for help, before my phone died.

  Sitting there, staring at the black screen, I realized I’d done all I could. The Rocky Mountains had beaten me. I couldn’t make it down the slope to Micah. I didn’t even know if I could stand. Even now my body trembled from the effort of climbing up here. My head felt light and dizzy. The sky had begun to fill with dark clouds again.

  I plopped myself down on the ground with a deep sigh. I would just rest for a while. Maybe when I woke I’d have the energy to get back to Micah. He’d be awake and uninjured, and we’d make our way toward the lodge together. Sofia and Tim would be there, safe and sound. We’d finish out the weekend, and I’d start my consulting business and never regret the fact that I’d gotten lost in the mountains instead of spending six minutes on TV.

  As I drifted off, I realized I couldn’t even remember why those six minutes had ever been important in the first place.

  10

  A HAND GRASPED MINE AND gave it a tight squeeze.

  My eyes popped open. I struggled to focus on the figure in front of me. The moment I realized who it was, I closed my eyes again. I had to be dreaming.

  “You’re so sweet when you’re asleep,” Micah murmured. “Such a contrast to the living cyclone you are when you’re awake.”

  My eyes flew open again, and I stared at him. He pulled back and grinned, still grasping my hand in his. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt and jeans with a belt. His coat was gone, and he held a hospital-grade ice pack to his head. When he saw me looking at it, he held it out for inspection. “You like this? Figure it’s the latest fad.”

  I focused on our surroundings. The hospital. We had made it somehow.

  I lay in a bed with my head elevated, and someone had tucked a pillow under my injured knee. There was some kind of cold wrapping around it, like a bendable ice pack.

  “You’re okay.” My voice sounded hoarse.

  “I’m okay?” He chuckled. “It’s not me everyone’
s worried about. It was just a little concussion and some bruising and a wrenched shoulder. What I really want to know is how you got up the mountain to send a signal. That was brilliant.”

  I fell against the pillow. “It actually worked.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Sofia and Tim got back to the lodge last night, but the officials didn’t dare send out a rescue team until the storm had blown over. Then they discovered the avalanche risk was high enough to be a danger to the ground crew. So they decided to send a search-and-rescue chopper over the cave. They saw our footprints and sent a team to follow them. When they saw the avalanche, they assumed the worst.”

  The worst had almost happened. The cloud of snow, Micah yelling, motioning for me to run. His body slamming into the tree.

  His motionless form, pale and still.

  “I woke up a little after that, I think,” he continued, “and tried to follow your tracks. I was a little out of it. That’s when the chopper found me. They’d caught a ping and pinpointed its location to the avalanche site. I can’t believe you actually did it.”

  So my cell-phone salesman job hadn’t been a complete waste after all. I smiled a little.

  “For all my gallantry, you saved us both in the end.” He leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

  I gaped at him in amazement, then blushed when I realized how little I was wearing. I positioned the blanket around my knee and tried to pull it to my chin.

  With a chuckle, he took my hand again. “I’ve already been released with strict instructions not to move too quickly or play sports. Any second now they’ll realize you’re awake and come fuss over you. Once you can keep down some solid food, they’ll send you down for a scan of your knee. But I already talked to the doctor and explained what happened and where your pain was, and she says it’s probably a meniscus tear, not your ACL. You’ll most likely need surgery to repair it, but they can’t do that until the swelling goes down, so you’ll just have to stay off it for a few days. Looks like it’s crutches for you.”

  I barely cared. We were alive, Micah and I both. I felt around for my phone before remembering I was wearing a hospital gown. “So Sofia is okay?”

  “Completely fine. Tim brought her by earlier and they waited for a while, but she went back to the lodge to catch a little sleep. I guess she stayed up all night, trying to talk the officials into braving the blizzard, and she was pretty tired. She brought your suitcase though, figuring you’d want your stuff. I think she left it in the bathroom for you.” He paused. “I did notice that when Tim and Sofia left, they were holding hands.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Tim, the water systems expert who liked snowshoeing races? Something had definitely happened between them on their trip down the mountain, then. I couldn’t wait to hear Sofia’s version of the events.

  I sat up. An IV was attached to my arm, dripping a clear liquid into my veins. A quick look out the window revealed that it was already getting dark. “What time is it?”

  “About 6:10. Why?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  “Oh. Your flight.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” And it really didn’t. A few days ago I wouldn’t have believed that missing a spot on national television wouldn’t bother me. “I think I’d better call and tell them I’m not coming.”

  “You know,” Micah said slowly. “If we can get you released soon and to the airport, you could actually make it in time.”

  I barked a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible. I have to get to the airport in Denver, then hope there’s a flight—”

  “You’re in Denver, and I’m sure there’s a red-eye to JFK. Let me check.” He pulled out his phone. He must have charged it.

  I was about to tell him not to worry about it when a nurse walked in.

  The next few moments were a flurry of activity—three nurses and a doctor filtered through, checking my vitals and poking around. Micah was right—they immediately wheeled me down for a knee scan. Less than an hour after returning to my room, a physical therapist came in with a brace and a pair of crutches still wrapped in plastic. He was surprisingly young, probably fresh out of school.

  “Your doctor recommended you stay the night for observation,” he said. “But since it’s a recommendation, we can’t force you. Have you signed all the forms?”

  “Every one they shoved at me,” I replied.

  “Good. Then let me show you how to put this thing on. It’ll keep your knee slightly bent until the ligament can be repaired. Just take it off at night and keep it dry. Would you like me to size these crutches for you?”

  “That would be great.”

  Two minutes later, I was hobbling across the room to the bathroom on my new personal transportation system, otherwise known as crutches. My tissue-paper gown felt ridiculously light on my skin. Micah kept his eyes carefully averted until I’d closed the door.

  When I came out thirty minutes later, I felt like a new person—showered, changed, and much more alert. Sore and battered, maybe, but still much better off than before. It was almost hard to believe we’d survived a night in a blizzard and an avalanche.

  Micah met me at the door with a triumphant smile, holding his phone up. The ice pack was gone. “I found you a flight. I hope you can sleep on a plane.”

  ***

  I protested all the way to the airport.

  I told him how I’d changed and grown, how I didn’t need validation to be whole anymore. It was time to quit my job and start my consultation business, and I’d do it without the boost of a national presence. He nodded his head on occasion but didn’t say a word.

  We reached the airport and unloaded our meager belongings. As the taxi drove away, I began my mantra again of how we didn’t need to do this.

  Micah grabbed my suitcase. “All right, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to tell me the truth. Is this TV gig a part of your dream?”

  I could live without it. I could.

  But I’d always wonder what it would’ve been like.

  He saw my hesitation and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “You’re going, then. Besides, you don’t blow off Susan Kerrington. She’s almost as scary as your soccer coach and a whole lot richer. Now let’s go check in.”

  I looked at my suitcase in his hand. Awe flooded through me at the sight of this man, the last one I would have ever considered dating, standing there and insisting I follow my dreams. Even more incredible was the warmth in his eyes, the determination. The vulnerability.

  Somehow I knew that in accepting his offer, I was also accepting him. And I was okay with that. “You mean check me in. And I’m paying you back for that ticket.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. And I bought two tickets, so unless you want to find someone off the street to haul your suitcase around, you’ll have to settle for me.” He grinned. “Hey, this small-town boy has never been to New York. Maybe you can show me around.”

  I wore a goofy smile, but I didn’t even care. “I’ve never been either.”

  “Then we’ll experience it together. After what we’ve been through, I’m beginning to think we can conquer anything.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and took my bag. “Let’s go chase your dream.”

  11

  “WE’LL ROLL IN THREE . . . TWO . . . and,” a woman drawled.

  A red light appeared on the camera.

  “Good morning and welcome back,” Susan said at my side. I marveled again that I was sitting next to the Susan Kerrington. The producer’s words from a few moments ago sprinted through my head at a breakneck pace. Sit up straight. Pull in that tummy—there you go. Smart choice to wear trousers, but keep your knees together. There. Do you have to wear the brace, or can you remove it for the camera?

  I’d opted to leave it on. It was my badge of courage, the thing that grounded me in a world that, at this very moment, felt very fantasy-like.

  “Today we’re speaking with Corie McMullen, author of the dating book Love Ri
ght. Thank you for joining us today, Corie.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” My voice sounded so wobbly.

  “I understand you went through quite the ordeal this weekend, getting here.”

  I blinked. “Uh, yeah. I went to a retreat in Colorado and got lost snowshoeing. I had to spend the night in a cave.”

  “Really?” Susan asked as though she didn’t already know the answer to that question. We’d discussed it moments before. I hadn’t actually thought she’d bring it up on national TV. “And that’s where you hurt your knee?”

  “Yes. They found me on a cliff and carried me to the hospital in a helicopter.” I forced a smile. “It was quite the adventure.”

  “Well, we’re very glad to hear you’re all right. What an amazing story. I’m sure you have an equally fascinating message to share with us this morning. Can you tell us how you came up with the idea for Love Right?”

  Now this I could handle. I settled into the words I’d prepared, telling her about my graduate degree in statistics. I went on to talk about how most statisticians went into business or science, but I’d chosen to help people find love.

  “I found your book intriguing,” Susan said. She glanced at her cards. “I especially loved this line: Women, in particular, tend to jump into the dating scene without knowing exactly what they’re looking for. This makes it easy to get distracted with men who are missing essential qualities or personality traits. It’s astounding how true that is. Do you think most women are attracted to men who are below them in the most important ways?”

  I looked at Micah, who stood behind one of the cameras, expressionless, arms folded.

  I shrugged. “My research showed exactly that. Most subjects who had just ended a relationship, especially women, stated their partner wasn’t who they had assumed. When I showed them my rating system, they were blown away and said it would have saved them a lot of wasted time.”