Page 85 of One Last Chance

He’d bet against it—Denali, from June to July, had turned into Everest, a virtual highway of climbers trying to conquer the tallest peak in North America.

“I saw Moose in town and heard about the rescue yesterday. You’re at it again.”

“I’m at nothing again.” He glanced at Flynn, but she had her head buried in the journal.

“Oh please. You saved a kid off a cliff?—”

“That’s my job.”

“Because you’re ahero.”

He held up his hand. “Shasta, I’m just an ordinary guy.”

She gave a laugh. “Why can’t you get it through your head that ordinary people don’t do the things that you do?”

“It’s not extraordinary if you were made to do it.”

“It is to the people you save.”

He stared at her.

“Why don’t you want to do an interview?”

“Because . . . it’s . . . Listen. Things go south in a rescue. A lot. And I don’t want to be some kind of hero and then have everything implode, okay? Just . . . leave it, Shas.”

He walked back to Flynn, who set the book down.

She considered him as he sat down.

“What?”

“What was that about?”

“Oh, that’s just Shasta. She works for the newspaper.”

Flynn’s attention went to Shasta. “What did she mean, hoping there are no climbers on the summit? Is she talking about Denali? Isn’t this the climbing season?”

“Oh. Yes. And it’s crazy busy on the mountain. The park service has a permanent base camp set up at 7200 feet, on the Kahiltna Glacier. People flying in and out every day—they even call the runway there the KIA—Kahiltna International Airport. But there’s a storm coming in, so people want to get off the mountain.”

“In July?”

“Yeah. The mountain is constantly between storms, and it can get to twenty below up there. Or colder. It’s one of the most dangerous mountains to scale because of the weather.”

“Have you climbed it?”

“No.” He leaned back. Every year we pull people off the mountain who have their fingers or noses or toes frozen off. And then there’s the ones who just freeze to death. I happen to like my fingers and toes.”

She reached out, touched his hand on the table, wove her fingers into his. “Me too.”

Aw, really, he shouldn’t get used to this. Because, well, because of the very reason he didn’t want to give an interview to Shasta.

The minute he started to believe in something . . . that was the minute he had something to lose.

And that thought shook through him and loosened his grip on her.

She didn’t seem to notice. “So no climbing for you.”

Calm down. He wasn’t going to lose her just because he’d started to care . . .

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