Chapter 2
Jack
Jack watched her go, a slow, bemused smile tugging at his mouth.
Steph Pierce was even more striking in person than in her faculty photo from North Basin Community College.
The picture hadn’t caught the way she moved, all quick energy and sharp edges, or how that ridiculous stocking cap with the pompom somehow worked on her.
Right after he’d grabbed her, she’d smiled at him. Open. Unfiltered. Grateful.
Then she realized who he was.
The change was instant. Her face twisted as if she caught a whiff of something sour. Or rotten.
Jack’s smile faded, more puzzled than offended. He had no idea what he’d done to earn that.
He was still watching when Liam appeared beside him.
“You good?” Liam asked.
“Yeah.”
“That was something. Didn’t know you could still move that fast. Now that you’re old and retired, I thought— ”
“Watch it.”
Liam laughed. “Still, very impressive, and I noticed a few people had their phones out. I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw a video of Jack Swisher, Good Samaritan, come out later. Maybe that newspaper reporter will even call you for an interview.”
“He’s friends with her, you know.”
“Who is?”
“Joe Monroe. He’s the reporter you meant, right?”
“Yeah, but friends with who?”
“Steph Pierce.”
“Steph—that was Steph Pierce? I had no idea. Man, if I’d known, I would’ve been taking my own video. Rival running club— ”
“We’re not rivals.”
“Tell her that.”
“I’ve been trying to. You know that.” Jack turned away from the street and rolled his shoulder, testing it. He’d tweaked it when grabbing Steph. No doubt he’d feel it later. “Car didn’t even slow down.”
“People these days.” Liam shook his head.
They fell into step toward the bank, boots finding the cleared center of the sidewalk. Jack had been in Basin County for eight months, which was long enough to learn the pace in Irma was different from anything he’d experienced before. He was still adjusting to that.
He’d been doing a lot of adjusting lately. That was what happened when the life you thought you had suddenly turned upside down. When it required being rebuilt from the ground up.
Moving to the tiny town of Elkridge, Wyoming, half an hour south of Irma, had been a gamble. It was still a gamble.
The Olympic trials felt like someone else’s life. The United States had never medaled in the biathlon, a sport combining cross-country skiing with target shooting, and Jack was supposed to change that.
So much for that.
He had everything going for him—the ideal coach and solid skills. The media campaign was a big deal. Many Americans had never even heard of the biathlon or Jack Swisher, and the goal was to turn both into household names.
If the guy on the street was any indication, the media campaign may have been successful. Jack wasn’t exactly a household name, but he was known in many circles. That made the reality of what actually happened even more real.
Not only did he not make the Olympic team, but he also destroyed his chances of ever competing again.
Liam Dixon, a man he barely knew from a promotion he’d done a few years ago for an energy drink, had been the one who showed up to help put the pieces back together. He had a crazy proposition. Move to the middle of nowhere, start a running club, and turn it into a world-class trail run.
Crazy or not, Jack took the chance. A new start in a new town—a new state, even. Maybe it wasn’t cross-country skiing or shooting, but he could make it work. Everything for the newly formed Elkridge Running Club and Endurance Races was coming along.
The running club had real momentum. And Elkridge—population 3,007—had been more welcoming than he had any right to expect for a newcomer who’d shown up with big ideas and someone else’s money.
He held the bank door, and Liam went through first.
Inside, it was warm and smelled of coffee and popcorn. A woman behind the counter greeted Liam by name and smiled broadly at Jack. He watched her face as the recognition hit.
“Mr. Swisher. Good to see you again.”
It still surprised him, the way of a small town. He wasn’t sure if it was a Basin County thing or a small-Wyoming thing, or simply the effect of a man showing up in a town and trying to do something.
Or maybe it was left over from the biathlon hype. He’d met her before, when they first came in to talk about setting up the accounts, but she didn’t seem to know him then. Maybe, in the weeks since, she’d searched his name and watched the videos, same as the man on the street.
Chances were good she knew the whole story now. Knew how he’d never compete again, not by his own choice. The Elkridge Running Club was a new opportunity, a way to stay engaged in something outdoors—he’d never survive forty hours a week in a cubicle—and a way to build a new name for himself.
He rubbed his shoulder. Besides, he liked running. Running during the off-season was how he’d stayed fit since high school. Turning his love of running into a business was smart and had real potential. At least that’s what he told himself.
He frowned. Steph Pierce would do everything she could to prevent their business from taking off. He knew that. She’d said as much when they’d spoken on the phone.
Jack had called her back in early September and introduced himself, suggesting his newly formed running club and her Basin County club plan training runs together, maybe even a weekend event where everyone could get to know each other. He thought it made sense.
Steph thought otherwise and told him so without mincing words.
He took a seat in the lobby while Liam handled the preliminary paperwork, but his mind stayed with Steph. When he first spotted the out-of-control car, he assumed she’d seen it too. Her running partner clearly had.
Steph hadn’t.
Even now, the thought sent a cold ripple through him. He hadn’t been sure he’d reach her in time. He still wasn’t sure how he had. It was nothing short of a miracle.
At the time, he had no idea who was about to get mowed down. When he realized it was her, his heart rate ratcheted up several notches.
He’d researched the Basin County Running Club, knew their dedication and how they ran every Wednesday, rain or shine. He knew she’d helped organize several fundraiser events and had built a reputation as a solid competitor in ultramarathons and endurance races.
He’d even looked her up on various race sign-up pages to see what races she’d completed and what she had planned—not in a creepy way, of course. Just to learn exactly who she was.
And what he knew was that she was amazing. Absolutely nothing short of amazing, having completed dozens of marathons and ultramarathons.
That’s when he learned about a race Steph was scheduled to compete in the following March: The Frozen Divide 100.
Liam had mentioned the race to him previously, suggesting their new business might want to look into a winter race as part of its overall plan.
Knowing Steph was doing The Frozen Divide made him want to sign up for it too.
Registration wasn’t as easy as he expected; he was nearly rejected by the organizers for lack of experience.
Apparently, being an almost-Olympian did little to convince them he could survive fifty-five hours of below-freezing temperatures in several feet of snow on the Continental Divide.
But Jack persisted, and with the help of his former biathlon coach and proof of a grueling winter expedition a few years back, they allowed him to enter the race, reminding him more than once of the two-hundred-dollar mandatory drop fee if he failed partway through.
He appreciated their caution but figured if Steph could do it, he could too.
Jack thought back to how she looked up at him from the sidewalk, with snow on her jacket and her sunglasses knocked sideways. She was cute. Beyond cute.
Appreciative, too—until she realized who he was. Then she said thank you and, in the same breath, made it clear nothing had changed.
He understood. She was territorial, seeing his new running club and endurance race as a slight against her.
He’d never meant to step on what she had built.
That wasn’t how he approached anything. But he also wasn’t naive enough to think intentions could settle disputes, and he hadn’t moved to Basin County expecting a welcome mat.
Still.
He’d pulled her out of the path of a car, and she’d given him a clean, polite dismissal and run away. Literally, she’d run away.
He almost smiled at that.
“They’re ready for us,” Liam said, appearing beside him.
Jack stood and straightened his jacket.
The meeting was straightforward, the kind of thing that should have his full attention and mostly did, because he was good at that, at being present for work even when something else was running quietly in the background.
They went through the account restructuring, reviewed the projections Liam had put together, and talked through the timeline for the spring expansion.
Liam asked the right questions. Jack answered the ones directed at him and let Liam lead, which was what they had planned since he was the money behind this operation.
Jack brought a name and a face and little else.
Forty minutes later, they were back on the sidewalk.
The morning had shifted while they were inside. The sun was still bright and mostly useless against the cold, but the foot traffic had thinned. Jack stood for a moment and looked up the block toward the intersection.
The snowbank the sedan had bounced off of was still there. He wondered if anyone had bothered to track down the driver. Had Steph reported the incident?
“You’re thinking about her,” Liam said. It wasn’t a question.
Jack looked at him.
Liam shrugged. “I know what you look like when you’re thinking about work, and that’s not it.”
“She’s running The Frozen Divide 100,” Jack said. “For the third year in a row. That’s relevant to us.”
“Sure it is.”
“I need to make a good showing at that race. You said so yourself. We’re going to hype it up, right?”
“Yep, true. But I heard you before she got up and skedaddled away.”
“Heard me what?”
“The way you got all tongue-tied and started blathering.”
“Blathering? What are you even talking about?” He started walking, and Liam kept pace. “She was rude.”
“Seems she would’ve been grateful you saved her life.”
“Well, she did thank me.”
“I bet that cost her, considering your previous conversation.” Liam was quiet for a few steps before adding, “She’s very attractive.”
Jack said nothing.
“I’m just noting— ”
“I heard you.”
They reached the truck. Jack unlocked it and got in. He started the engine and let it run.
The Frozen Divide 100. The Elkridge Running Club. A woman who looked at him like saving her life was going to cost him.
Somehow, he suspected it might.