Page 13 of The "I Do" Do-Over

Then I don’t wonder about much at all because, with a splittingcrack, my vision crashes into darkness as I lose consciousness.

Boone

Ipower up the slope to the ski lodge, the buzz of the snowmobile’s engine loud in my ears. There’s a flurry of activity outside the lodge, with a central figure directing what seem to be search crews.

Killing the engine, I hop off my vehicle and head for the woman in the eye of the storm of activity. I open my mouth to introduce myself, but she doesn’t let me get a word out.

“You here to search for missing skiers?” she barks, turning on me.

I pull up short, nodding.

“Good. We need someone searching the eastern side of the mountain.”

“How many are missing?” I ask.

“Not too many, thank goodness. We were able to find most of the patrons who were out when the sluff hit. There are just a few more left.”

I nod again. “I’m on it.”

She lifts her chin in acknowledgment and I jump back on the snowmobile, powering in the direction the woman indicated.

The east side of the mountain . . . Something familiar hitches in my brain. A memory mostly forgotten, but not quite.

Slowing my vehicle, I press into the mental sensation.

The veil parts and the memory comes into focus.

Back in the day, Taryn used to love to come up here and ski the paths less taken, backcountry routes where she could cut fresh tracks — routes down the eastern side of the mountain. The sun can’t reach and warm there after midday so, as a result, fewer people prefer to ski that area.

Not my Taryn, though. She prefers the peaceful solitude. I’d bet good money that’s where she and her folks are right now.

Not that it’s money that’s at stake.

It’s Taryn’s life.

Turning, I head for the eastern trails she used to take me out on from time to time when we were teens. Filled with purpose and fueled by fear, I push the limits of my snowmobile’s capacity for taking slick turns at speed.

Before long, I see where the landscape has been disturbed by the sluff avalanche. There’s no sign of Taryn or her parents, but I know I’ve got to be close. I push the snowmobile faster.

And then there she is.Taryn.

Her body is slumped in the churned-up snow next to a hulking boulder. Blood drips down her forehead from beneath her hat, clashing with her pink hair. My stomach swoops sickeningly at the sight of her.

I let the vehicle’s engine die and leap off of it, wading through the shin-deep snow to my woman’s side. Crashing to my knees, I shake Taryn’s shoulder, gently at first, then harder when she doesn’t respond.

“Taryn,” I say, my voice thin, strangled by worry. “Taryn.”

Her eyes flutter, then open. She stares at me, confusion written all over her pale face.

“Boone,” she murmurs, lifting a trembling hand. I hold my breath when she cups my cheek in her palm for a moment before her limb drops, lashes fluttering closed. “I knew you’d find me.”

“I’ll always find you,” I say fiercely, staring around me at the silent trees in desperation. How the hell am I going to get Taryn to help without moving her? She may have sustained a spine injury, and I’m afraid to make something like that worse.

“I know,” she sighs, eyes closing. “That’s why I love you.”

A chill that has nothing to do with the winter cold washes over me at her words. Is she seriously saying the words I’ve longed to hear for some damn long?

I shake my head at my own selfishness. The woman could be majorly hurt, and I’m worrying about our relationship status? What a fool I am. She’s got to be delirious.

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