Page 3 of The Last Resort
“Oh, no. Oh, fuck.”
Her southern finishing school manners went straight out the window. The deadly combination of weight and forward motion had her gripping tightly to the handle of the cart as she desperately fought for control. Her hiking boots had been designed for walking on solid ground, not ice. She trieddesperately to dig her feet into the pavement, but they couldn’t find an inch of grip.
She slipped. She slid. Her feet went out from under her.
I’m going down.
Rachel fought the brave fight, but she couldn’t stop the abrupt slide. Her left knee smashed against the cement paving.Oh come on, haven’t I suffered enough!
Cursing, she held on to the cart for grim death as it swung wildly to the right. The precariously balanced topmost suitcase wobbled and fell. And just to make sure she fully understood the laws of gravity, the suitcase glanced the side of Rachel’s head as it tumbled to the ground.
“Oof!” She saw a dazzling galaxy of stars.
But she still held on.
Now free of some of its heavy load, the cart increased speed across the pavement, dragging Rachel behind it. She and her luggage were headed straight for the center of the busy airport road. As her life flashed in front of her, Rachel let out a sob. Her already horrific year was about to reach its final disastrous conclusion.
I’m going to die in Aspen before I even clear the damn airport.
She caught a glimpse of something black out of the corner of her eye and everything came to a sudden merciful stop.
Oh, thank you, baby Jesus.
Rachel was sprawled on the sidewalk, her hands holding tight onto the cart handle, her legs buckled under. Every muscle in her arms, back, and shoulders screamed for mercy. She looked and felt like she’d been hoisted on one of those medieval torture racks.
A strong pair of arms lifted her up and set her carefully back on her feet. “Are you alright?” the man asked, in a voice etched with deep concern.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go,” she pleaded.
“I won’t. I’ve got you. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
Sharp pain radiated through her left leg and hip. The blood dripping from her head was soaking into the fabric of her pale blue hoodie. She was in a world of agony, but her inevitable slide into the road and certain death had at least been avoided. A good Samaritan—no scratch that, this guy was a hero—had come to her rescue.
“I lost my footing on the ice, and I slipped.”
“I saw that.”
“Then the suitcase fell on me.”
“Yeah, I saw that too. But you held onto the luggage cart. Have to give you points for persistency. I probably would have let go as soon as I fell.”
His teasing voice had her mind shifting from her painful situation for a half second.
If you only knew how stubborn I’ve become over the past year.
“You clearly don’t have a few hundred bucks worth of make up in your checked bags. Because if you did, you wouldn’t dare sacrifice them in order to live.”
Death before damaging my M.A.C babies. Mama has you.
“No. No, I don’t.” He brushed a gentle hand over her shoulder. “Can you stand on your own now?”
“I think so, but don’t go anywhere, I might need rescuing a second time.”
She slowly turned, wishing to give more thanks to her savior, but as her gaze settled on the man still holding her in his arms, Rachel’s next words of gratitude died on her lips.
He was tall, clad in a thick black snow jacket. His hair was hidden under a black woolen beanie. And that olive green scarf wrapped around his neck was practically begging for her to bury her face in it.
It was impossible to resist the temptation to take a long slow look at him. Every inch of him.Oh boy.There was a heck of a lot of Hallmark Christmas hero going on here.
