The sound of her own ragged breathing was her only company as she lay there, waiting—praying—that help was on its way.
7
Jake Carrington squinted against the sun glaring off the snow, the cold air biting at his face even through the scarf wrapped around his neck. The snowmobile thrummed beneath him, a reliable hum that steadied his nerves as he maneuvered up the mountain. Every shift of the terrain under the snow—a slight give, a groan of pressure—sent his heart pounding. He was hyper-aware of the avalanche risk. Still, he pressed on, scanning the endless white expanse for any sign of Capri.
She’d ignored the warnings. That was Capri for you. Feisty, determined, a streak of stubbornness that had both exasperated and charmed him during the months they’d worked together to rebuild her mother’s house. He’d admired her fire then, even when it was directed at him, but now it had gotten her into trouble. The thrill-seekers she’d followed up here were oblivious to the mountain’s danger, and now she was missing. Jake’s gut twisted. He had to find her. The thought of her buried under the snow was unbearable.
The snowmobile skidded as he crested a ridge. He eased off the throttle, scanning the area. His eyes caught movement—or what he thought was movement—near a cluster of rocks with pine branches sticking awkwardly out of the snow. Hope surged through him. He stopped the snowmobile, his boots crunching as he jumped off. Digging with his gloved hands, he clawed at the snow. But all he unearthed were shattered tree limbs.
“Damn it!” he muttered, his breath puffing in the icy air. He slammed his gloves against his thighs, his despair mounting.
Capri wasn’t just any woman—she was becoming everything to him. He often caught himself watching her with quiet admiration. He often found himself studying her as she laughed with her friends, marveling at the way her smile lit up the entire room, like she carried her own sunshine. It wasn’t just her beauty—though that alone could undo him—but the fierce determination she wore like armor and the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide beneath it.
The depth of his feelings startled him, tightening his chest at the mere thought of losing her.
He couldn’t give up. He had to find her.
Climbing back onto the snowmobile, his hand hovered over the ignition switch. Then he heard it. A faint sound carried on the icy wind. He froze, straining to listen. Was it his imagination? He held his breath until it came again—a muffled noise, barely discernible. Could it be her?
Revving the snowmobile, he followed the sound to the edge of a pine tree grove, its branches broken like toothpicks. Among the littered landscape, fragments of a snowmobile glittered among the snow. His chest tightened as he spotted a helmet wedged in the branches of a tree.
Capri’s helmet.
Relief and fear surged in equal measure as he abandoned his snowmobile and sprinted toward the tree, his boots sinking deep into the snow.
“Capri!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He didn’t even realize tears were streaming down his face until he wiped his cheek and felt the wetness.
Silence answered him at first. Then, faint and weak, her voice drifted from the other side of the rock cropping. “Jake?”
His heart leapt. “Capri! I’m coming!” He scrambled over the rock, slipping on the ice but refusing to slow down. When he rounded the corner, he spotted her, half-buried in the snow but alive. Her face was pale, a scrape visible on her cheek, but her eyes were open and locked on him.
“Jake,” she murmured, tears pooling in her eyes. “You found me.”
He dropped to his knees beside her, brushing the snow off her jacket. “Of course I found you. You scared the hell out of me, Capri.” He quickly scanned her torso, concern mapping his expression.
A weak laugh escaped her lips. “I thought I’d…never see you again.”
“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice thick. “Don’t you ever say that.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached for his hand. “I…I was so stupid. I didn’t listen.”
“Yeah, you were,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smile despite the situation. “But that’s you. Always pushing boundaries. And you know what? It’s one of the things I love about you.”
Her eyes widened. “Love?”
He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing the scrape on her cheek. “Yeah, Capri. I love you. And I’ll say it a hundred more times once we get you out of here.”
Tears spilled from her eyes as she whispered, “I love you, too.”
The admission filled him with a warmth that cut through the cold. He kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “We’re going to get you out of here. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“My leg,” she admitted, wincing as she shifted slightly. “It’s pinned.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice steady. He pulled the radio from his parka jacket. “I’ve found her, Bodhi,” he said, his voice firm despite the tears still streaming down his face. “I need backup. She’s alive but injured. We’re near the rock cropping on the south ridge.”
“Copy that,” came the response. “Hang tight. Help is on the way.”
Jake put the radio down and squeezed Capri’s hand. “Help is coming. You just hold on for me, okay?”
