Chapter 35
Steph
Steph recalled reading something about loss in Jack’s past when she was researching him, but the details had been vague. College girlfriend died in a car accident. She didn’t read anything about the guilt that stuck with Jack or how he blamed himself.
The guilt was apparent now. From the timeline he presented, she assumed it must have been around a decade ago. Years of blaming himself for someone else’s choices. Understanding that, his reaction from earlier made more sense.
She still wasn’t happy about the way he spoke to her, but she understood it. And with that understanding came the reasoning behind it. He’d lashed out not only because of what happened to Celeste but because he cared about Steph.
Steph had known that. Known with the tender way he kissed her when they were hiding in the crevice. This wasn’t just a potential fling. Not for her and not for him. Neither of them were the type to have careless relationships.
The pieces were arranging themselves in an order that made sense now, the kind of sense that came after the fact and made you wish you’d had it earlier.
His reaction in the snow and the rage that came out of nowhere, the words that had come out wrong and kept coming even when she could see he knew they were wrong, she understood now.
Someone he loved had put herself in danger to be there for him, to be the happy, smiling person he expected at the finish line, and she lost her life in the process.
Steph had done something similar. She’d put herself in danger to save Jack. These weren’t the same thing. She knew it and Jack knew it, but through the lens of what he was carrying, close enough for his mind to fill in the blanks and his reaction to be crazy over the top.
She didn’t like what he’d said, and she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. But she understood where it came from now, and understanding changed the weight of it considerably.
“I’m sorry about Celeste. I’m sorry you went through that.”
He nodded once, his eyes on the trees.
“I’m not going to apologize for saving you.”
He turned his head slightly.
“I made a choice. I used things I’ve learned over the years, I assessed the situation, and I acted. You were on your knees in the snow with a man standing over you. I had bear spray and the element of surprise, and I used them. I’d do it again.”
He was quiet.
“I’m not Celeste. No doubt Celeste made her choice based on her love for you and your relationship. She had no idea it would turn out the way it did. My guess is she’d driven in weather plenty of times.” Steph paused and watched as he gave a single nod.
“Right. That’s what we do when we live in places where there’s snow half the year.
We go where we need to go. We make a calculated decision based on our knowledge and skills.
That’s what I did. I made a calculated decision.
There’s always the chance I could’ve chosen wrong and things could’ve ended differently, but it didn’t.
I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re both free to sit here and discuss the situation.
My decision is not the same decision Celeste made. ”
“I know they’re not.”
“I need you to know it about me specifically.”
He looked at her directly. “I know it about you specifically.” He held her gaze. “That’s what I was trying to say. I knew it while I was saying the wrong things, and I couldn’t stop because the fear of losing you was there and raw. Completely raw. And it didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Steph understood how trauma worked, how it stored itself in the body and came out sideways when something touched the right nerve.
She’d seen it in students on wilderness courses, the ones who had something in their past that a moment of genuine danger could unlock without warning.
She’d never been on the receiving end of it quite like this, though.
It wasn’t an excuse. He’d said that himself, and she agreed with him. It was an explanation. There was a difference, and she understood both sides of it.
“I understand your fear,” she said. “I don’t like what you said, but I understand where it came from.”
Something shifted in his face. Not relief, exactly. Something more complicated than that. The look of a man who had been carrying too much for too long and had finally let some of it go, unsure what came next.
She put her hand on his forearm.
Jack adjusted his position to keep the rifle at the ready but to be able to place a free hand on top of hers.
They sat like that for a moment, with the rock faces around them and the cold and his hand on hers.
They weren’t fixed. There were things still to say and things still to work through.
And the conversation about Celeste wasn’t finished; they’d only just started it.
But the wall she’d raised after his harsh words, the one she’d built fast and told herself was necessary, had a crack running through it, and she had no desire to fix it.
The funny thing was, Steph could see the correlation between the way Jack overreacted and the way she’d been since she first learned of Jack Swisher and his elaborate plans in Basin County.
She may not have lashed out at him live and in person, but she’d done plenty of it within her own mind.
She’d allowed Jack to live rent free in her head, creating a scenario that painted Jack as someone out to ruin her life.
That was far from the truth. She could see now that when Jack had called her several months earlier, he’d been reaching out in good faith.
She was at work, and he’d used her direct line that was advertised on the college’s website.
The call was perfectly normal. Her reaction to it was not.
She recalled taking extreme satisfaction in slamming down the receiver in only the way a corded phone could be done.
At the time, she hadn’t realized Liam Dixon was the money behind Jack.
She’d assumed he was some famous rich guy coming into Basin County and wanting to change everything.
Things were different after learning the Dixon family was the financier.
They had caused trouble in the county for years.
Steph knew that, thanks to Sheriff Hepner keeping her in the loop.
But Jack wasn’t Liam. Jack had money struggles much like those Steph faced. When his plans for the future were no longer possible, thanks to his shoulder injury, he’d found a way to pivot. To give himself a second chance.
Steph told herself he was stealing her dreams by starting the Elkridge Endurance, but the truth was she’d changed her dream years ago. Having a world-class event was no longer her goal.
Being a mom was.
That’s why she’d decided to keep the money she’d saved for a race and hold on to it to create a family. Adoption was a wonderful thing, but it wasn’t without cost. She had enough money now to welcome a child into her home. And she would do it. Soon.
She expected she’d return to distance events when her child was older, but until then, she wanted to focus on motherhood.
“Do you remember when I told you that saving my life on Grand Avenue that day didn’t change anything?”
Jack made a sound that was almost a laugh. “I remember.”
“I was wrong about that.”
He looked at her. His eyes were steady and dark, and she didn’t look away from them.
“I was wrong about a lot of things,” she said.
The pressure of his hand tightened comfortably on hers.
Steph thought about what Jocelyn had said at Thanksgiving, out on the cold patio with their breath turning to steam and the warm blur of people moving behind the sliding door.
He’s also very tall. It had been said in that tone that meant something far beyond height.
His height wasn’t really what her friend meant.
What she meant was, this guy might be the one.
Jocelyn had seen it before Steph was ready to, and she was rarely wrong about these things.
Steph had spent weeks being irritated with her for being right.
Now she would have to admit it, and Jocelyn would be insufferable about it, and Steph would let her.
But first, they needed to get out of this mess.
The snowmobile sound reached them before she’d finished the thought.
Not distant. Not on the other side of the highway. Close, rising and falling through the timber. He’d found a way across.
Then a second engine joined the first.
Jack’s hand moved as he brought the rifle up in the same motion, smooth and immediate, his eyes going to the approach through the trees. She was already moving, shifting her position in the rocks to give herself a sightline on the terrain below the outcropping and keep herself hidden.
“Two machines,” he said.
Heart pounding, she looked at the terrain between the outcropping and the timber. The approach was not easy ground—broken rock and uneven snow and the kind of surface that slowed machines even when it didn’t stop them.
She pulled out the beacon and typed fast. Trapped and in immediate danger. Two armed men on snowmobiles. They will kill us. Need immediate response. She hit send and tucked it away.
Jack was already scanning the terrain, the rifle steady, his wrapped feet braced against the rock. Whatever pain he was in, she couldn’t see it in his hands or his eyes. He was completely present, completely focused, reading the approach with the same attention he’d given everything all night.
She moved beside him, tucking herself behind the rock.
The engines were louder now, both working hard, the sound bouncing off the rock faces and filling the outcropping and making distance harder to judge.
She tracked the lights through the trees on the lower ground.
Moving fast, the operators pushing the snowmobiles harder than the terrain warranted, the kind of speed that said they’d found the tracks and were committed to following them.
“They won’t give up,” Jack said.
“They won’t,” she agreed.
He looked at her sideways. “Ideas?”
“We stay in the rocks. Keep the high ground. Make them come to us on foot.”
“They could shoot us from where they have to stop.”
“We stay hidden.” Steph paused. “Isn’t there something about shooting uphill that’s more of a challenge?”
Jack shrugged. “Uphill or downhill, the bullet hits high. My guess is they know this, considering their chosen profession as poachers.”
“Any way we can use that to our advantage? Maybe go higher in the rocks?” She gestured behind her, where the rocks kept climbing. “Higher and put more rocks between us. Stay out of sight.”
He looked at the approach. She watched him assess it the way she’d watched him assess terrain all night—fast and thorough, arriving at a conclusion without wasted motion.
“Maybe. It’s a steep angle, but they can adjust. My guess is Rick will stay down there, but he’ll send Graham up and around. On foot.”
“Instead of hiding, we make a stand.” She met his eyes.
He nodded. “Might be the best choice.”
“And there’s only one good way up.”
He looked at the rifle. Then back at her. Something moved across his face that wasn’t fear or hesitation, the same thing she’d seen at the tree line before the culvert, the part of him that was steady when the situation required it.
“We only have one rifle, so we need to stay together. Work together.”
Through the trees, she caught sight of a headlight bobbing up and down.