Chapter 1
These thrill-seekers were either fearless or fried.
Every time extreme skiers boarded his chopper, Luke McGuire had to remind himself that the resort needed the money. Because their quest for epic powder only made his job harder.
Luke gripped the cyclic control, the steady thrum of the chopper vibrating under his hands, and tried not to think about all the ways this trip could go sideways.
Through the windshield, he surveyed the endless, jagged expanse of Alaska’s Chugach Mountains.
An unforgiving, steep wilderness cloaked in miles of pristine snow.
The sun glinted off razor-sharp peaks, dazzling white against the brilliant blue sky, but he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the view.
“Yo, Captain Luke.” One of the skiers’ voices crackled through the headset. “Are you taking us to the secret backcountry location or what?”
The guy reeked of marijuana and sweat. His two friends weren’t any better. Super rowdy with their crude jokes, and laughing like hyper middle schoolers instead of taking it seriously that they were minutes from hurling themselves down a near-vertical slope.
“Slow your roll, fellas,” Luke said, leaning forward to gauge the best place to land. “If you want to ski, you’ll stay put until our skids touch the snow.”
His brother Ethan, riding in the copilot seat, shot him a look. “Relax. They’re just pumped. It’s going to be okay.”
Luke huffed, his grip on the controls tightening. “I’m counting the minutes until we’re on the ground.”
“Don’t you remember how it was when you were young and wild and free?”
“Hmm. I wasn’t quite that free,” Luke said.
In the back, one of the skiers let out a whoop and slapped his buddy’s shoulder. “Bro, this is gonna be sick! Best heli-skiing in the world right here!”
Luke dragged his hand down his face. “We’ll be on the ground in just a minute.”
“You’re such a buzzkill,” the third guy grumbled.
Laughing, Ethan shook his head. Luke glared at him.
Ethan turned his laugh into a cough. “At least they paid up front. Right?”
Luke didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the controls, guiding the helicopter toward a plateau carved out like a cereal bowl between surrounding peaks. Tight landing, but he’d done it a hundred times before. His gut told him not to waste time finding a better spot.
“Hold on. We’re coming in.”
The skiers barely acknowledged him, too busy shouting at each other about who would drop first, how the powder looked “gnarly” and “wicked,” and who was going to film what on their GoPro.
Luke ignored the noise and eased the skids onto the snow with a delicate bounce.
“All right, out,” he said, flipping the switches to keep the rotor spinning at idle. “Grab your gear and stay clear. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, we got it. We’re professionals, man,” one of them said, laughing.
The trio spilled out onto the snow, still laughing and jostling each other as they pulled their skis and gear from the cargo rack.
“Hey, I’ll pick you up at Lookout Point at three thirty,” Ethan called, leaning out the door. “Don’t be late.”
“Chill, dude,” one of the guys called back, waving a gloved hand. “We won’t stand you up.”
“Somehow I’m skeptical.” Luke blew out a sharp breath, his patience fraying. “They seem like they kind of enjoy ignoring deadlines and itineraries.”
Ethan slid the door closed. With a wave, Luke lifted the helicopter off the ridge. The skiers turned into specks below them.
“Man, stoned adrenaline junkies are not the way to go,” Luke said, adjusting his headset.
“You say that, but these guys are keeping the lights on. No clients, no income. You know the math.”
Luke gritted his teeth. “I know the math. I’ve seen the numbers. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Last time I checked, it’s not like we’ve got a line of tourists waiting to book accommodation in March,” Ethan said. “Not with Redemption still half-wrecked from the tidal wave.”
“Don’t remind me.” Luke altered their heading, cutting around a fog bank drifting in off the bay. “Dad shouldn’t have let those volunteers who came to clean up stay for free. It’s killing us. We barely had enough money to fix the generator last month.”
“Dad’s tenderhearted these days. You know that. Ever since he got hurt . . .” Ethan’s voice softened, tapering off as if he was unsure how much to say.
Well aware, thank you very much.
Luke swallowed back the snarky words. Ethan had spent twenty years saving lives—rescue swimmer, aviator, Coast Guard hero.
Luke was proud of him. Really, he was. But sometimes, when he thought about everything his older brother had accomplished, it was hard to ignore the ache of what could have been.
Ethan had flown off to adventure and purpose, while Luke had stayed behind, trading his own dreams to keep the resort operating after the fire. Someone had to step up. And Luke didn’t regret the choice. How could he? Family came first. But that didn’t mean it was easy.
“To your point, that’s why I booked as many extreme skiers as I could. But I’m regretting my decision. They’re trashing the place and getting high. Did you see the mess that last group left? Beer cans everywhere, a hole in the drywall . . .”
Ethan exhaled, shaking his head. “Repeat after me: This is all temporary. We have to make it to May. Once the tourists show up, we’ll be back on track.”
“You think Dad’s going to let people keep staying for free all summer?
” Luke tightened his grip on the cyclic.
Part of him felt bad about complaining. He didn’t want to admit how much it worried him—how much Dad’s generosity, while admirable, made him feel like they were teetering on the edge of a cliff.
“Hope not,” Ethan said. “Are you planning to talk to him, or should I?”
Luke hesitated. “I’ll try.”
They fell into silence, the sound of the rotors filling the space between them. Below, mountains gave way to dense forests and half-frozen creeks that fed into the bay.
As they passed over a peninsula jutting out into the water, Luke spotted a house sitting alone, shingles missing from the roof and windows boarded up. The old Carlisle place.
That ache in his chest, the one he worked so hard to ignore, flared to life. Emma. He hadn’t thought about her in months, but seeing her family’s property brought it all back. Her laugh. Those gorgeous eyes. The freckles on the bridge of her nose.
Where was she now? Did she ever think about Redemption?
About him? He hadn’t set foot near the place since she left town almost two decades ago.
Redemption had chewed her up and spit her out, so she and her mother had fled.
He couldn’t blame them. Not really. But she’d left him behind and never looked back. And that part still stung.
He should’ve been over it by now. Should’ve let go of the hope that she might come back, that they could ever be what he’d once imagined.
But some stubborn, irrational part of him still clung to the notion, like a splinter he couldn’t dig out.
And now, here he was, thirty-five years old, single, childless, and clinging to a failing business.
What a legacy.
“You okay?” Ethan’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Yeah. Just noticing the Carlisle place. It’s a mess.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you, uh, have a thing for the girl? You’re not still hung up on her, are you?”
“No,” Luke said quickly. Too quickly. “It’s just weird, you know? Feels like another lifetime. I don’t understand why they’re letting it fall into disrepair.”
Ethan didn’t push, thankfully.
The peace didn’t last long though.
“Hey.” Ethan leaned forward, pointing through the windshield. “Do you see that?”
A thin column of smoke curled up into the sky. It was coming from the direction of their resort. Luke’s stomach dropped.
“That’s us,” Ethan said, his voice tight.
Luke adjusted the controls, bringing the helicopter around for a better view. “Maybe somebody’s burning trash.”
“That doesn’t look like a trash fire,” Ethan said grimly.
Squinting through the fog, Luke kept his eyes on the faint orange glow flickering through the trees.
The smoke was thicker now, black against the sky. That wasn’t just a pile of burning debris—it was a cabin. One of their cabins.
“No,” Luke muttered, his pulse racing. “Hang on. I’ll have us on the ground in a minute.”
Ethan grabbed the radio, already calling it in. “Redemption Base, this is Helo One. We’ve got a structure fire on the south side of the property. Repeat, structure fire. We’ll need assistance.”
Luke’s mind spun, tamping down memories of the last time they’d battled a fire at the resort. He couldn’t think about that. Not now.
But the same old fears pushed to the surface. No amount of repairs or blind faith seemed to be enough these days. A single thought echoed. Relentless. Unshakable.
How much longer could he hold this place together?
Boston’s rush-hour traffic was about to ruin her Friday night.
Blasting his horn, the Uber driver pumped his brakes to avoid rear-ending a luxury SUV.
Snow fell in thick wet flakes, forcing the windshield wipers to work overtime.
Emma Carlisle tugged a black cocktail dress over her sports bra, then tipped sideways in the back seat when the car suddenly sped up.
She smacked her elbow against the window, wincing as pain shot up her arm.
The silky fabric snagged against her leggings, and the semi-sheer insets clung to her torso.
Ugh. This thing was so not her style. But her future mother-in-law had given her the designer dress and insisted it was perfect for tonight’s celebration.
Sighing, Emma shimmied the fabric over her hips, then peeled off her leggings and stuffed them into her black knockoff Birkin handbag.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Everything okay back there?”