Chapter 2
Nick
Nick had seen enough mountain weather to know when things were going sideways fast, and this was definitely one of those times.
The return journey to the ghost town of Bearwater, Wyoming, was turning into a nightmare.
Within the first quarter mile, Joe had already taken two more spills on slick patches hidden under the fresh snow.
Each time the guy went down, Nick winced.
Joe was trying hard, but he was clearly out of his depth in these conditions.
When Brooke first mentioned this training run, Nick had been crashing at her place for a week, the latest stop in a year-long rotation of couches and spare rooms. His ex-girlfriend’s family’s construction business had been his life for three years, but when Sara ended their relationship, working for her dad became impossible.
One day, he’d had a job that he loved, a happy relationship, and a clear future. The next, he was packing his SUV with everything he owned and trying to figure out who he was without her. Almost a year later, he still had no idea.
Brooke had insisted he needed to get out, to do something active and stop wallowing. When most of the running club begged off at the last minute, she’d practically dragged him along. “You need this,” she’d said. “We both do.”
He’d offered to drive, knowing his beefed-up four-wheel drive was the best option for the rough road to Bearwater. As a teen, he had visited Brooke’s family in Irma nearly every summer, and a trip to the supposedly haunted ghost town was always part of the plan.
Deep down, he knew it was too early in the season. The weather at this elevation could be unpredictable this time of year. Brooke knew it too. She had grown up around these mountains. But she was adamant and insisted she needed this specific run as part of her training.
Nick didn’t really understand why she had to be in these mountains on this particular day, but she was set on it.
Otherwise, she insisted, she risked DNFing at the Moose again.
A DNF, or Did Not Finish, was the kiss of death for an ultrarunner.
Last year, she’d dropped at the halfway point, and it had taken her months to bounce back from what she called her failure.
At the time, Nick had been fresh off his own relationship collapse and was couch surfing in Texas, but he’d heard the family talk about how badly not finishing had affected his cousin.
The defeat had consumed her in a way Nick didn’t quite understand, though he recognized obsession when he saw it.
He’d lived it himself, just in other ways.
“Stay close,” Gina called back to the group, and Nick couldn’t help noticing how naturally she led.
She had good instincts. Better than most people he’d hiked with over the years.
The way she read terrain and weather, managed group dynamics without being heavy-handed about it . . . it was impressive.
Snow clung to the dark curls escaping from beneath her beanie, and he watched her brush them back absently as she checked on the group.
He moved up beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed when they hit a narrow section of trail. The brief contact sent a jolt of warmth through him. The determined set of her jaw caught his eye. Her gaze constantly scanned ahead, reading terrain most people would miss.
He’d only met Gina a few hours ago, but something about the way she’d taken charge had caught his attention. Most people panicked or deferred to others in a crisis. She assessed and acted.
“How’s everyone holding up?” he asked over his shoulder, keeping half an eye on the group while studying how Gina steered the interactions.
“Cold,” Kelsey replied, glancing at her phone.
He’d met her a few days earlier when Brooke had invited her over for dinner.
He suspected it was his cousin’s attempt at a setup, but neither he nor Kelsey were interested.
Kelsey seemed nervous and uncomfortable and, like now, kept checking her phone. She had an obsession with it.
Ahead of them, Brooke was moving with an energy that bordered on manic. Even as they pulled back to safety, she was still glued to her GPS and whispering numbers under her breath.
“Brooke,” Gina called ahead. “Slow it down. We need to stay together.”
“I’m staying on the trail,” Brooke snapped back. “If everyone else can’t keep up with basic trail pace— ”
Nick’s jaw tightened. This wasn’t the time for ego or training schedules. “It’s not about pace,” he interrupted. “It’s about safety. The weather’s changing fast.”
A wind gust punctuated his words, strong enough to nearly knock Joe over.
The snow was changing character, too, shifting from the lazy, fat flakes of earlier to smaller, harder particles driven by increasing wind.
Nick had spent enough time in the Rocky Mountains to recognize when a storm was turning serious.
“This is turning into a blizzard,” Joe panted as he caught up to the main group.
The guy was struggling more than he should have been on a downhill return, his face flushed red with cold and exertion.
He was a smaller guy, the kind who was built for running, and a good half a foot shorter than Nick.
Nick knew he didn’t have the typical runner’s body. He was too tall and too heavy. He had even entered a race once with a special category for guys built like him, a category called Clydesdales. He couldn’t decide whether to be amused or insulted.
Joe might have a runner’s build, but he lacked the conditioning for a trip like this. Honestly, he had little business even being out there. A low-key hike would be one thing, but with Brooke pushing them, he was quickly out of his depth.
Nick watched Gina assess the situation, taking in the group, the trail ahead, the darkening sky. Her evaluation was quick and efficient. She moved like someone who knew these mountains, not a casual weekend warrior trying to keep up.
His chest tightened. A woman this competent, this put together . . . and here he was living out of his SUV with no plan beyond the current job.
He shook off the thought. Not the time.
The trail along the Sagebrush River was becoming genuinely dangerous. Fresh snow camouflaged existing ice patches, turning every step into a potential hazard. The river itself sounded different. Louder, more aggressive, swollen with precipitation.
Nick was calculating their options when movement ahead caught his eye. His blood went cold.
“Everyone freeze,” he said quietly, but firmly enough to cut through any argument. “Don’t move.”
Thirty yards ahead, a massive grizzly bear emerged from the tree line like something out of a nightmare. Nick estimated it was five hundred pounds easy, the bear’s dark coat dusted with snow as he foraged along the trail edge.
The bear’s massive head swung back and forth, completely focused on whatever scent had drawn him to that exact spot.
Nick caught the faint sounds of the group adjusting their bear spray into position. That was reassuring. They knew the drill.
“Don’t run,” he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. “Come together. Make ourselves appear larger.”
The group bunched tightly, moving with deliberate care. Gina pressed against Nick as they raised their arms overhead. The top of her head barely reached his chin, her back firm against his chest.
Her breathing stayed controlled. No panic, no freezing. It’d be easy to lose your head while facing down a grizzly, but she was already assessing, planning their next move.
For a moment, he wasn’t thinking about the bear or the cold—just the comforting rhythm of her breathing matching his.
“Joe,” she whispered. “Breathe. Stay calm.”
Joe’s breathing was rapid and shallow. Classic panic response. In his peripheral vision, he saw Kelsey move closer to Joe, her hand touching his arm.
“Hey, bear,” Nick spoke in an easy tone, the same one he’d picked up on long hikes through the nearby mountains in his younger days. “Just passing through, big guy. No trouble here.”
The grizzly’s head turned toward them, small dark eyes taking in the cluster of humans.
When it rose onto its hind legs to get a better look and catch their scent, Nick’s muscles tensed, ready to react if things went wrong.
In front of him, Gina stayed perfectly still, but he could feel her alertness radiating outward.
Joe made a small sound of terror.
“Don’t,” Gina whispered. “You don’t want to sound like prey. Right now, he’s just checking us out.”
The bear dropped back to all fours and returned to his foraging, apparently deciding they weren’t worth investigating further. But he remained directly in their path, blocking the trail back to Bearwater.
Minutes dragged. Nick’s eyes searched the bear for any shift in behavior as he swept the area for other wildlife. Cold seeped through his layers despite the adrenaline. Gina trembled against him. He couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from tension.
“You okay?” he murmured, his lips close to her ear so only she could hear.
“Fine,” she said as her body shivered. “Just cold.”
Nick shifted, using his larger frame to block more of the wind from hitting her directly. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Incredibly, Brooke was still checking her GPS watch. Even facing down a grizzly, she couldn’t stop monitoring her training metrics.
“How long do we wait?” Joe whispered, fear tight in his voice as he held his arms over his head.
“As long as it takes,” Nick replied quietly. “He’ll move when he’s ready.”
“My arms are going numb,” he said.
“Lower your arms,” Gina offered. “Just Joe. Let him shake his out, then we’ll go one at a time doing the same thing.”