by Pamela Clare
Except that it wasn’t a joke. It was the truth.
“We were out on the glacier. Bruce was leading. The twins were in the middle—first Felix and then Luka. I was bringing up the rear.”
“Was there a strategy to that?”
Conrad nodded. “It’s good to have your most experienced climber leading. Bruce and I had planned to switch off, keeping the twins sandwiched between us.”
“That makes sense.” Wendy waited for him to say more.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The knot in Conrad’s gut tightened.
Why had he set this up?
“Bruce had already crossed the crevasse. Felix went next. I was on belay as Luka walked across the ladder. When Luka hesitated again, Bruce shouted, ‘Don’t worry, mate. If you fall and your harness fails, it will only kill you.’ That was Bruce—he had a dark sense of humor. But those were his last words.”
“How long had you two climbed together?”
“Twenty years, I think.” He tried to do the math, but his adrenaline had kicked in. “Around twenty years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.” Conrad willed himself to go numb. “Luka made it to the other side and belayed me. I was halfway across the ladder when I heard a crack and a rumble and looked up to see a serac collapsing on top of us. The ice beneath the ladder shifted, and I fell to my knees. I had just a minute to think that this might be the end before something hit me on my helmet—and then everything went black.”
Kenzie fought to rein in her own emotions, not wanting to make this harder for Harrison. He seemed outwardly calm, cool, professional. But she could tell how much it hurt him to talk about this—the hard set of his jaw, the ice in his voice, the shadows in those gray eyes.
“Did you actually see the serac bury your friends?”
Harrison shook his head. “It all happened so fast. The rumble. Bruce and the others shouting. Then … nothing.”
Wendy waited for him to go on.
“I came to hanging upside down in my harness. I had no idea where I was or what had happened. I hung there, swinging in a slow circle a few feet away from the ice wall of the crevasse.”
His nightmares. This was how they always started.
“Were you afraid?”
Oh, for God’s sake! Why did journalists ask stupid questions like this? Who wouldn’t be afraid in that situation?
Harrison nodded. “Afraid, confused. My head hurt like hell.”
“You didn’t remember you were on Everest?”
“It took a few minutes for me to make sense of things. When I realized where I was, my first thought was that I’d fallen. I wondered why Bruce and the others weren’t looking for me. I called for them, righted myself. Then some big blocks of ice fell into the crevasse, crashing past me, and I remembered.”
For a long moment, Harrison was silent, the fingers of one hand curling into a fist. Kenzie found herself holding her breath, the nails of her right hand digging into her palm. She’d been in the Ops Room, listening in to the climbing website while he’d been fighting for his life.
“I shouted for them. No response. Then I understood. They were gone—all of them. I was in the crevasse and alone.”
The desolation in his voice put a lump in Kenzie’s throat. Not caring what Wendy might think, Kenzie reached over and took his hand in hers to find his fingers cold.
“How did you get out? What about the ladder?”
“The ladder had disappeared. I had to climb the ice.”
His fingers threaded through hers while he described a harrowing hour or more of using his crampons and ice tools to climb unstable ice.
“I had some broken ribs—I think I took a whipper into the wall of the crevasse when I fell—and that made it harder. I would climb a few feet, and the ice would break off and fall, taking me with it. I would have to start again.”
“How far did you have to climb?”
“It wasn’t that far—maybe thirty feet.”
That sounded pretty damned far to Kenzie.
“What were you thinking during that time?” Wendy asked.
“I kept telling myself to hurry because they might still be alive. That hope, that sense of urgency—it kept me going.”
“Did you truly think they might have survived?”
Harrison’s brows drew together in an irritated frown. “I didn’t stop to logic it out. I was running on adrenaline with a concussion and broken ribs.”
“You kept going.”
He nodded, his hold on Kenzie’s hand growing tighter. “I reached the top to find a jumble of ice—blocks as big as buses, as big as houses, piled on top of each other. The rope that had saved my life disappeared beneath that mess, Luka somewhere at the other end. I slashed at the ice with my ice tools, but there was no way I could get to them.”
“What did you do then?”
“I sat down. I just sat there. Was I in shock? I don’t know.”
“It was a rescue team of Sherpas that helped you back to Base Camp, right?”
He nodded. “They put up new ladders, sent a rope over, and belayed me back. I made my way with them down to Base Camp.”
In a voice almost devoid of emotion, Harrison told Wendy how he’d contacted Bruce’s wife and the twins’ parents the moment he’d gotten back to Base Camp. He told her how all climbing had stopped until monks performed a puja in memory of the three men. He told her how the camp doctor had tried to examine him, but he had refused.
“How was it to tell their relatives that they were gone? Bruce had a wife and kids. Luka and Felix were their parents’ only children.”
Okay, that was going too far. Was she trying to twist the knife?
A muscle clenched in Harrison’s jaw. “That’s none of anyone’s business. Those conversations were private.”
Kenzie gave his fingers a supportive squeeze.
Wendy changed the subject. “How did you end up at the Tengboche Monastery? Have you always had an interest in Buddhism?”
He shook his head. “I took what I could carry in my pack and started the trek back to Kathmandu. When I reached Tengboche, I just stopped. We had camped there on our way to Base Camp, admired the view of Everest, talked about the climb. Somehow, as long as I could see the mountain, it didn’t feel real to me that they were gone.”
Kenzie blinked back tears.
The only way to finish this was to finish it.
Conrad answered Wendy’s questions about his time at the monastery, describing his daily life, telling her about the work he’d done to help the monks, how meditation had helped him cope with survival guilt.
“Do you feel guilty for making it back alive?”
“In my mind, I know I shouldn’t, but in my heart…” How could he explain? “I know I couldn’t have done anything to save them, but if I had led that morning and died instead of Bruce, there wouldn’t have been anyone left behind to grieve besides my mother.”
Kenzie shot to her feet. “That’s not true! It’s not true.”
Were those tears on her face?
Shit.
Looking surprised at her own outburst, she walked to the kitchen counter, grabbed a tissue, wiped her tears away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Is this hard for you to hear?” Wendy asked her.
Kenzie wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Of course, it is. I was at The Cave at the time. Most of the Team was there. We all felt helpless. No one spoke. All we could do was listen, hold our breath, and pray that Harrison had survived.”
“How did you feel when you heard the news that he was okay?”
“The whole room exploded in cheers.” Kenzie gave Harrison a wobbly smile. “I was so relieved.”
Conrad had thought of Kenzie during those long months at the monastery, but he’d never thought about how his brush with death might have affected her or the rest of the Team. Her obvious concern for him, the intensity of her emotions—he’d be a liar if he said it didn’t touch
him. Still, if he’d been leading instead of Bruce, she and the others would have gotten over his death. Bruce’s wife and kids would miss their husband and father for the rest of their lives.
He knew what it was to lose a father.
Wendy turned her gaze back to Conrad. “I guess you would have had plenty of people grieving for you.”
“Not a wife. Not children.”
“I hear you’ve joined the Ski Patrol at Ski Scarlet for the winter. Have you given up climbing?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re a hero to a lot of people out there. They’d be disappointed if you—”
“I’m not a hero.” Why did people say that? “I’m just an athlete. Whether I’ll continue with this sport or move on to something else, I can’t say. I haven’t decided.”
Wendy ran through the rest of her questions, mostly basic stuff like what had gotten him into climbing, where he’d grown up, and some technical climbing stuff. Then she turned off the recorder and stood. “I know it couldn’t have been easy to talk about this, but I’m grateful that you trusted me. I’ll have a photographer get in touch with you for a photo.”
Oh, great.
Wasn’t that just what he wanted?
“There are climbing photos in the press section of my website if you need those.”
“Thanks.” Wendy slipped her recorder into an oversized handbag. “I’ll do my best to do justice to your story. It’s scheduled to run on the front page. Not this Sunday, but the next. Have a good night. You, too, Kenzie.”
When the door closed behind her, Conrad locked it—and let out a breath.
Then Kenzie was there, sweet Kenzie. She slid her arms around him. “That was incredibly brave. Are you okay?”
Was he okay?
Hell, he didn’t know. He’d ripped his chest open, torn out his heart, and thrown it on the floor. But he was alive, and he was with Kenzie.
He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah. I’m okay. How about you?”
“I’m good. Sorry that I got emotional.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m touched to think that you were all at The Cave together, pulling for me.”
She smiled up at him. “This may come as a surprise, but I had a thing for you even back then.”
Her words slid, warm and soothing, into the empty space behind his sternum. He held her close. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
He’d never said anything like that to a woman before, but it was the truth.
It had been a long time since Kenzie had enjoyed a three-day weekend and even longer since she’d spent three entire days alone with a man. They made love whenever they felt like it, stayed up late watching Netflix, and slept in—at least until the dogs woke them. What a luxury it was to wake up in Harrison’s arms, spend the day with him, and then slide into bed with him at night. He made the meals, helped Kenzie wash her hair when she was free to shower again, and carried in groceries, handling anything she couldn’t easily do herself.
He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. That ought to have made her happy, but it didn’t. Instead, she was terrified. Somewhere along the way, she had fallen in love with him.
Could she possibly be more of an idiot?
She’d tried to stop this from happening. She’d told her heart that he would soon get bored with her and leave her for a mountain—or a woman who loved to climb like he did. But her heart didn’t want to hear it. It didn’t care about experience or consequences.
It wanted him.
Kenzie pushed aside her worries as best she could and focused on the moment. The light in his gray eyes. His smile. The gentleness of his touch. The deep timbre of his voice. The way he felt inside her.
As special as these days were, she knew that doing the interview with Wendy had made things worse for him. He had nightmares every night. Twice, she’d woken to find him sitting up in bed, his body tense, his skin covered in cold sweat. Both times, she’d asked him if he wanted to talk, but he’d shaken his head and told her not to worry.
By Sunday, there were serious dark circles beneath his eyes. A few times when he didn’t know she was watching, she’d caught him staring into nothingness, a troubled expression on his face. If he was emotionally distant at times, he made up for it when they made love. He fucked with the intensity of a condemned man, seeming to find a measure of forgetfulness and peace with her. If sex could be an escape from grief for him, well, she was more than willing to do her part.
She was just selfless like that.
On Monday, she went back to work, and they fell into an easy routine. Every morning, he dealt with the dogs and made breakfast while she showered. While she was at work, he did his own thing, taking Gabby with him and sometimes joining her for lunch. Except for Tuesday when he had his EMT refresher course, he made dinner.
“You’d make a good househusband,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Are you proposing?”
She could tell he was joking. Still, his words made her pulse skip.
On Saturday, he came to her puppy kindergarten class, where Gabby and shy little Snickerdoodle were now best buddies. At one point, he slipped his arm around Kenzie’s waist, putting a frown on Hannah’s face.
“I think I disappointed someone,” he whispered to Kenzie.
That afternoon, the Team was toned out to help a woman who had taken one too many steps backward while snapping photos and had fallen a good twenty feet down a rocky embankment. No canine help was needed, so Kenzie sat that one out. Megs didn’t want her up there anyway out of concern she might trip and hurt her wrist. But Harrison went and helped evacuate the woman to a waiting ambulance.
They made love that night, then lay in the dark afterward, climax fading into sleep, Harrison’s fingers tracing lines over the skin of her arm. “I want you to know how much you mean to me. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
She didn’t want that either. “You mean a lot to me, too. I’m here for you, Harrison. I’m here if you need someone to listen.”
“I don’t want to bother you with my bullshit.”
“Nothing about you or your feelings is bullshit—not to me.” She could feel the tension in him, as if he were dreading something.
And then she remembered.
Tomorrow was Sunday. The interview he’d done with Wendy last week would be on the front page of the Scarlet Gazette in the morning.
Chapter 19
Conrad took the dogs out while Kenzie started coffee, his heart full, his mind empty. Mornings with Kenzie gave new meaning to the phrase “bed head.” He grinned at the thought, amazed by the sense of peace he found in her arms. It was better than meditation. It was better than sex with any other woman. It was even better than the high he got standing on the summits of mountains.
Are you out of your mind?
He must be, but he didn’t care.
He looked up at the bright blue sky then west to the bank of gray clouds that was just visible over the mountains. A chilly wind was pushing those clouds their way, bringing snow for the high country and rain for Denver.
When he came back inside, dogs at his heels, he found the Sunday paper sitting on the kitchen table. On the front page was a large photo of him beneath a big headline: Local hero—Conrad recounts Everest tragedy.
And that right there trashed his good mood.
Kenzie poured cups of coffee and held one out to him. “I read it. I think she did a good job. All the quotes seem accurate.”
“Thanks.” He took the coffee. “The headline is bullshit.”
He wasn’t a hero.
He took a sip of coffee, watched her drown hers in half-and-half. “If you hate coffee that much, just drink milk.”
She laughed. “I love coffee—with enough half-and-half and sugar.”
He tried to forget the article and focus on breakfast, throwing together pancakes using his father’s recipe. But that headline stayed in his mind, niggling at him while they ate, did dishes, tal
ked about the day ahead.
“We could take the dogs on a walk at Moose Lake.” Kenzie wiped the stove top. “Gabby hasn’t been up in the mountains before. We could do some puppy runaways. She’s gotten good at that, so it’s time to move to the next step.”
What was wrong with him that he couldn’t focus on the joys of the moment? Why couldn’t he lose the feeling that his world was about to come crashing down?
“That sounds good.” He hadn’t been to Moose Lake since he’d come home.
They packed the dogs in Kenzie’s truck and drove the short distance to the lake, where Taylor, in his uniform and Smokey the Bear hat, was busy writing out parking tickets for people who somehow managed to drive but couldn’t read the NO PARKING signs posted along the rescue vehicle lane.
He tucked another ticket beneath a windshield wiper then walked over to say hello. “Hey. I saw the article today. Great interview, man.”
“I haven’t read it.” And Conrad didn’t plan to.
Taylor glanced down at Kenzie’s splint. “How’s the wrist?”
“I got the stitches out Friday,” Kenzie answered. “The doctor said it’s healing well. I have to wear the splint for a couple more weeks. Thanks for asking.”
Gizmo recognized Taylor, wagging his tail and barking out a greeting.
Taylor knelt down on the gravel. “How are you, buddy? What’s your little friend’s name?”
“Gabby,” Conrad and Kenzie answered together.
“Hey, Gabby. Aren’t you cute?”
Conrad was surprised to find himself feeling pride. Yes, Gabby was cute, and it was good and right that everyone should recognize that.
Kenzie leashed both dogs, handing Gabby’s leash to Conrad. “We’re going to step up her training a little bit. I thought it would be good to get her into the mountains.”