Chapter 6
Nick
Nick had been watching the group dynamics for the past hour, and what he saw concerned him. The stress of confinement was bringing out behaviors that might have stayed hidden under normal circumstances.
He thought Brooke would calm down after her nap, but with the storm once again ramped up, she was back to checking info on her watch and furiously typing into her phone. He asked her what she was doing, but she snapped, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he insisted.
She didn’t even look up. “I’m reworking my plan to get in the missed elevation training. I think if I take a few days off from work and go midweek, I’ll be fine.”
“Go where?”
She paused her frantic typing as she said, “Come back up here, maybe. Or find another place. Maybe in the Beartooth Mountains. Or I might just go up in the Bighorns.”
“Alone?”
She shrugged as she resumed her clicking.
Brooke had scheduled today’s run for a Saturday so others could come along. In the mountains around Irma, hiking or trail running was safest with at least three people.
Companions were important not just for emergencies like a fall or injury, but also because of the bears in the area. They’d had a reminder of that just a few hours earlier, and now here she was planning a midweek run when many of her friends would need to be at work.
Maybe Gina had a flexible schedule, but they’d need another runner or two for safety’s sake.
She could go into the Bighorns to train on the trail she’d be racing soon, and grizzlies weren’t an issue there, but it was a long drive from Irma.
Going alone was still unwise, and it was calving season for both moose and elk.
Those animals were plentiful in the mountains and could be just as aggressive as grizzlies when guarding their young.
When she refused to look back up at him, he shook his head. Once they got out of this storm and off this mountain, he’d talk with her and find out why she was acting so weird.
He crinkled his brow. She’d been odd since he’d arrived. He’d heard her quietly leave the house each morning while it was still dark. He knew she was going for a run, trying to get it done before she had to go to the coffee shop.
He would’ve thought one run a day would be enough, but some days, she added a second run in the evening or went to the gym for strength training.
She’d assured him it was all part of the training plan and was necessary to get her body ready for what was ahead. And he knew she was right, yet there was something that seemed almost unhinged about it.
Perhaps sensing him looking at her, she met his gaze. “What?”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to keep interrupting whatever you’re working on.”
“I’m just trying to make it all make sense. The Moose Range Run 100 elevation profile shows three major climbs.” Her fingers traced patterns on her phone screen.
“Since I missed today’s hill work, and it looks like I’ll miss my long run tomorrow, I’ll need to make both of those up.
I’m supposed to have a rest day on Monday, so I guess I’ll make up the vertical gain then, but that’ll leave my legs wiped out for the tempo work I’m doing on Tuesday.
I can’t miss the tempo work. I need to practice my speed, and— ”
“Brooke,” Nick said gently. “Your phone battery’s probably getting low. Might want to conserve it.”
“I have a portable charger,” she replied without looking up. “I need to figure out how to restructure my entire training block. This one delay will cascade through everything.”
She raised her head, a look of horror in her eyes. “What if we can’t leave tomorrow? What if we’re stuck here?”
Nick caught Gina’s eye. For a moment, everything else fell away—Brooke’s obsession, the storm, the group dynamics. There was just the two of them and what had happened in his SUV minutes ago. Then Gina’s gaze shifted to Brooke, and her concern replaced whatever had flickered between them.
Brooke’s behavior was moving into territory that worried him. He’d seen similar patterns in workers who’d been injured on job sites, the ones who became fixated on getting back to work too quickly and ended up making poor decisions that caused further injuries.
“We’ll leave when it’s safe to do so,” Gina said.
Brooke tutted. “Stupid weather. The reports showed a clear morning. We should’ve been finished before it started. We should’ve gone faster.” She shifted her gaze to Joe.
Joe had been quiet for a while, now sitting in the tent with a blanket around his shoulders. He met Brooke’s gaze with a fierce one of his own.
The guy was clearly still struggling with the altitude, even though he’d had water and carbs, things to help with altitude sickness, but he was also dealing with the social dynamics of being the newest member of an established group.
“How long have you been running?” Nick asked, directing his question at Joe.
“Off and on for years,” Joe replied. “Started in high school. It was harder to stick with once I got out of college and entered the workforce. I did some jogging back in San Diego, but nothing like this. When I moved to Wyoming, I figured I should get into trail running. Plus, my schedule’s more flexible now since I’m mainly freelancing. Seemed like the thing to do here.”
Having a flexible schedule meant Joe might be able to run with Brooke midweek, but she was a dynamo, and Joe would struggle to keep up, just as he’d done today, which would likely leave Brooke frustrated with the entire situation.
“You’re a writer?”
“Journalist, really.” Joe went on to tell Nick about his career in journalism and how things had changed in recent months. Joe’s expression suggested there might be more to the story, but Nick didn’t push. Everyone had their reasons for life changes.
“Trail running’s different from road running,” Nick offered. “Especially at altitude. You’ll adapt.”
“If I don’t get eaten by a bear first,” Joe said with a weak smile. “That encounter earlier was more wildlife than I’ve seen in my entire life.”
Nick appreciated that Joe could still find humor in the situation despite how uncomfortable he was.
Brooke had given Nick a rundown of everyone in their running group. She’d barely mentioned Joe, calling him the new guy, but she hadn’t spoken poorly of him. He was just trying to find his place among people who already knew one another, and that would take time.
After a day like this, with conditions that challenged even seasoned mountain runners, Nick hoped Joe wouldn’t quit. He also hoped Brooke would stop blaming him for the run falling apart.
Kelsey continued her restless monitoring of their surroundings. She’d check one window, move to another, then return to the first as if she expected to see something different.
Not that she could see much of anything with the boards covering the openings.
The glass had been removed years ago, either by vandals or by design to prevent vandalism.
Even so, her movements had a pattern that suggested she was looking for something specific, not just a general concern about the weather.
She paused at one boarded window longer than the others. When she turned back, her expression was too carefully neutral.
“Everything okay?” Nick asked.
“Fine,” Kelsey said quickly. “Just checking the storm conditions. Wondering if we’re going to be able to leave soon.”
The explanation sounded reasonable, but her body language didn’t match. She carried a tension that felt excessive for the circumstances. Nick noted it and turned his attention to the more pressing issue of group morale.
Being stuck together was hard enough without letting unease and distrust seep in. Joe offered the tent to both Brooke and Kelsey, saying he was finally warm and feeling better.
They both declined. Brooke muttered about needing to be able to get out quickly, and Kelsey claimed she was too keyed up to sit still. At least that part appeared honest.
“Anyone up for some cards?” Nick suggested, pulling a deck from his gear. “Might help pass the time.”
“I don’t really play cards,” Brooke said, still focused on her phone.
“I might take another nap,” Joe added apologetically.
“Cards sound good,” Gina said, settling down across from Nick. “What did you have in mind?”
As they sorted through game options, Nick studied Gina’s profile in the dim light. She had an expressive face, one that showed her thoughts more clearly than she probably realized.
Right then, he could see her concern for the group, her assessment of their situation, and something else—awareness. Of him. Of what had happened in his SUV earlier.
They hadn’t talked about the kiss, hadn’t had a chance with the storm forcing them back inside and the group needing attention. But it sat between them now, this thing they’d started and couldn’t finish.
“You’re thinking hard about something,” Gina observed as she shuffled the cards.
“Just wondering how long this storm will last,” he said, which was partly true. He was also wondering if she regretted kissing him. If she was already building walls again, convincing herself it had been a mistake driven by crisis and proximity.
“Weather services aren’t exactly reliable out here,” she replied. “Obviously. Mountain storms have their own rules.”
They settled into an easy game, and Nick tried to relax. Gina was easy to talk to, with a quick wit and the kind of practical intelligence he’d always found attractive. She asked good questions and listened to the answers instead of just waiting for her turn to talk.
“So, you’ve been doing construction work around here?” she asked as they played.
“Mostly remodeling jobs. Kitchen renovations, bathroom updates, that kind of thing.” Nick drew a card and tried to keep his tone casual. “Brooke connected me with a friend of hers who needed help. There’s decent demand for skilled work in the smaller towns.”
“That’s good. Steady income.”
Nick almost laughed at the irony. “When I can find it. Winter tends to be slow, and a lot of the work is seasonal or project-based. I try to find things to do inside then. Kitchen or bath remodels, that kind of thing.”
He didn’t mention that he’d been taking whatever jobs he could get, often for less money than his skills were worth, because beggars couldn’t be choosers. Or that he’d been turned down for several permanent positions because employers wanted stability and references that he couldn’t provide.
Not after the falling out he had with Sara’s dad and brother, the way he left in a huff and them being happy to show him the door.
“Still, it’s good work,” Gina said. “There’s something satisfying about building things, fixing things that are broken.”
The way she said it made Nick wonder if she was talking about more than just construction. There was something in her tone that suggested personal experience with things that needed fixing.
“What about you? You mentioned working in Denver before moving to Irma. What made you choose ER nursing?”
She was quiet for a moment. “My mom. She had a lot of health issues. Some physical, mostly mental. Depression, alcoholism. I spent years taking her to doctors, dealing with emergencies, trying to get her help.”
Gina adjusted in her camp chair. “By the time I graduated from high school, I’d spent more time in hospitals than most people do in a lifetime. Figured I might as well make a career of it.”
“That’s a hard way to find your calling.”
“Yeah, but sometimes the hard things shape us the most.” She met his eyes. “Although I wouldn’t recommend it as a career counseling strategy.”
Nick smiled at that. “The schedule works out okay? With the running and everything?”
“It does. Twelve-hour shifts mean I have stretches of days off. Perfect for pacing Brooke during her races or doing longer training runs.” She shook her head with a slight smile. “She loves telling people I’m her private medical team.”
“You don’t do the races yourself?”
“Ultras? No way. There’s nothing appealing about going thirty hours without sleep and pushing my body beyond the brink. Besides, I like my toenails.”
He laughed outright. Brooke was complaining yesterday about how she was going to lose another toenail. He knew that even hiking in the Wyoming wilderness could be a problem on the feet, but running added to it. Kicking rocks and hitting root stumps was common.
They played in comfortable silence for a while, and Nick studied her hands as she arranged her cards. Capable hands, with short nails and a few small scars.
The same hands that had gripped his jacket when they’d kissed. The memory sent warmth through him.
This wasn’t going away. Whatever had started between them in his SUV was real, whether either of them wanted it to be or not. The question was whether it would survive once they got back to normal life. Whether she’d look at his circumstances in the real world and decide she’d made a mistake.
She was someone who made responsible decisions and followed through on commitments. Everything about her suggested stability and reliability. Meanwhile, he was figuring out his next move one day at a time.
But she’d kissed him anyway. That had to mean something.
“Gina,” he said quietly, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear.
She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Yeah?”
“About earlier. In the car— ”
“I know.” She glanced toward the others, then back at him. “But maybe not now?”
“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, understanding. They were trapped in a building with three other people during a blizzard. Not exactly the time for a relationship discussion.
But her expression softened slightly. “Later, though. When we’re not trying to survive.”
“Later,” he agreed, and felt something settle in his chest. Not certainty, but possibility. She wasn’t running, wasn’t pretending it hadn’t happened. She was just asking for time and privacy to figure out what it meant.
He could give her that.
They played another round in comfortable silence. Then Gina drew a card, looked at it, and groaned. “You’re destroying me here.”
“That’s the game.” He couldn’t help grinning.
“Rematch. Best two out of three.”
“You sure you want to lose twice?”
She laughed at that, her face lighting up with genuine humor, and Nick let himself hope. Maybe this wasn’t just crisis-induced intensity. Maybe when they got back to Irma, there’d be something worth exploring.