Make It Last (Wild Fire #6)
1. Ava Blackerby
Chapter One
Ava Blackerby
Ice Breaker
“Whoop!” I exclaimed, thrusting both fists in the air and glancing around.
“Hell, yeah,” my friend Amy said at my side.
I turned toward her, grinning. “This is the way to celebrate.”
We were in Alaska. I’d never been here—never even thought I wanted to be here—yet I was most definitely here. On a divorce trip. A trip that my friends, led by Amy, had organized for me because, well, I guess one should celebrate a divorce. Go big or go home. Or in our case, go cold or stay home.
My cheeks were cold, along with the rest of me. My gaze arced around. “Where is everyone?” I asked.
“They’re slow,” Amy teased just as Helen and Renee came around the bend.
“We made it!” they cheered as they reached us. We high-fived in a clumsy flurry of puffy gloves and squeals.
“This is crazy,” Amy said, her eyes wide.
We stood on the edge of a glacier. It felt like I could see the curve of the earth if I squinted hard enough. I wasn’t sure if I was on top of the world emotionally, but metaphorically? Definitely. I decided to roll with it.
Our guide, Lacey, turned around and flashed a smile. “How’re we doing?” she asked.
“We’re doing,” Renee said, hands on her hips as she glanced around.
“So what now?” I asked.
Lacey pulled out some gear. “We’re going to walk across part of the glacier.”
“What?” I yelped.
“What did you think we were going to do?” she asked, way too calmly in my opinion.
Our friendly guide was pregnant and as chill as a cucumber about walking across frozen death. “Are you insane?” I asked, finally.
She chuckled. “Not last I checked.”
“You’re pregnant!” Helen exclaimed.
She nodded slowly. “I’m healthy.”
“You need to be near medical services,” I pointed out.
Lacey gestured around. “I’m a few miles’ hike away. If something happens, I’m close. It’s more dangerous for me to drive in a car, statistically speaking, than it is to walk across part of a glacier,” she added dryly.
“Oh my God,” Amy muttered.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said, half to her, half to the sky. “Divorce celebration. New mission unlocked.”
We were all city girls from Seattle. I knew sidewalks very well.
Along with coffee shops and trips to the outdoor gear store, culminating in me buying hiking boots and thinking I was ready to go full wilderness.
Hiking across a glacier had not been in my imagination.
Saying it was only “part” of a glacier seemed to be a middling detail.
I eyed the translucent blue ice, then looked at our guide. “Okay, I’m ready. You better keep me safe.”
“That’s what this is for,” she said, holding up a rope.
“We have to be roped together?” Anxiety slithered down my spine in a disconcerting prickle.
She shrugged, all nonchalant and calm. “Yeah. Just like driving in a car, there’s always a risk.”
“Okay, but I am numb to the risks of driving. What’s the risk of walking across a glacier?”
I looked down at my boots. They were sturdy with grippy soles. I was feeling brave until she answered with, “Worst-case scenario, you could fall into a crevasse.”
“Excuse me?” I sputtered.
“Odds are slim,” Lacey continued, still way too calm. “But that’s what the ropes are for. We’re all gonna be roped together. We have gear. I know exactly where we’re walking. I’ve been across this section before. It should be fine.”
“Should? Is should enough?” I pressed.
She blinked. “It’s fine.”
That was how I found myself roped to three of my best friends and a guide with a baby on board, carefully stepping across a glacier. I had little crampons on my boots—those spiky things for ice—and I talked to myself the entire way. I did not fall into a crevasse. For the win.
But when we got to the far edge of the glacier, the guide glanced back with another smile.
“Okay, we’re in the clear. No more glacier crevasse concerns. But when we get to the edge, you’ll need to do a little bit of a jump to clear the gap between the glacier and solid ground.”
“A jump?” Amy squeaked.
“Just like… a leap,” she said, all breezy and casual.
“Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath.
“You go first, Amy,” Helen said.
She did, taking a little leap, graceful and effortless, like she did this every day. She landed and turned around to meet my eyes with a grin. “You’ve got this.”
I took a deep breath, put my hands out, and jumped.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed the second I landed.
A few minutes later, our guide crouched beside me where she’d guided me to sit on the ground by a boulder, well clear of what I was now calling “that stupid glacier.” “Well, I think you’ve broken your ankle.”
“What now?” I was trying to stay calm, but my ankle hurt.
“I’ve already called emergency services.”
“Are they going to fly in and transport me by helicopter?” I asked, picturing some dramatic, slow-motion rescue with blades spinning and wind in my hair.
“Doubtful. We’re not far from town, so they’ll hike up,” Lacey explained. She worked quickly, stabilizing my ankle and assuring me I'd be okay.
“Ankle breaks are a nightmare,” I said to Helen a few minutes later.
“Are they?”
“Yes. They’re absolutely a nightmare.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Because there are so many tiny bones. My life is ruined.”
“Dramatic much?” Amy asked dryly.
They could tease because the pain was surprisingly not horrifying. Yet. My friends also knew humor was the way to get me through a bad moment. “Yes! I broke my ankle. This was supposed to be a fun, celebratory trip!”
I could tell Lacey felt bad, but I’d been the one who jumped way too high. I just went for it like I was a mountain goat trying to prove something. Totally unnecessary.
With my friends keeping me distracted, I lost track of time until Lacey glanced over and said, “Hey, Tanner!”
I blinked and followed her gaze. Holy hormones.
Tanner was the quintessential rescue guy.
Tall with brown hair and rich brown eyes that locked onto me when he stopped beside our group.
He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a calendar shoot titled Hot Wilderness Rescuers of the Year.
Or maybe a well-curated influencer feed.
He looked over his shoulder at another guy approaching.
This guy was also tall and annoyingly attractive. My hormones were quiet on him, though.
Lacey stood, hands on her hips. “What’s the plan, guys?”
“We’ll carry her down,” Tanner said.
“Carry her?” I echoed, alarmed.
“Yeah, best option,” he replied casually. “He can get your gear, and I’ll carry you on my back.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked down at me again, his gaze steady and calm like this was all in a day’s work. “Yep. It’s probably the quickest option. Or we could do a sling between us, but that’s more awkward, and it’ll slow things down a lot.”
The other guy nodded. “Honestly, I agree. Piggyback’s the best option.”
“Can I have some names, please?” I asked, staring up at them.
“This is Tanner,” Lacey said, gesturing to Holy Hormones himself. “And this is Kincaid.”
Amy caught my gaze and wiggled her brows. She was enjoying this too much.
The next thing I knew, Tanner had me on his back. He carried me almost easily, like this was something he did all the time. Maybe it was something he did all the time.
“I can’t believe this,” I muttered under my breath.
They even had this kind of harness that helped me stay secure on his back without having to cling for dear life. Not how I’d envisioned this trip going.
“I bet you can’t,” Tanner said with a chuckle, “I don’t imagine anyone plans to break an ankle and get carried off a glacier.”
He smelled good, carrying scents of evergreen and a citrusy soap. My hormones were doing cartwheels.
“I’m doing my best to hold on to my dignity,” I replied.
I caught the curve of his smile when he turned his head slightly toward me. My face was practically tucked against his shoulder. I could kiss him. Honestly, it was tempting.
But no. I had sworn off all men. All of them. For the rest of my life.
“We’ll be down in no time,” he said.
“It took us over an hour to get up here,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you were going up. We’re going down. Plus, I know this trail by heart.”
He adjusted me on his back, and I could feel the way his muscles moved under me—steady, strong, solid.
I cleared my throat. “So, uh, Tanner, nice to meet you.”