“Your training plan can survive one partial workout,” Gina said in a tender voice. “We still got in a nice run along the bottom and a decent climb before the storm started.”
“You don’t understand,” Brooke replied. “I failed last year. I dropped at the Rendevous aid station, and everyone said I just wasn’t tough enough. If I don’t hit every single training benchmark this year, I’ll fail again. I can’t fail again.”
The desperation in her friend’s voice was alarming. This went far beyond normal pre-race nerves. Brooke was spiraling, and the enforced delay was making it worse.
“Nobody said you weren’t tough enough,” Gina said firmly.
Not exactly a lie. It was true Brooke’s dad and brother had made comments about her dropping, but most people were impressed she’d managed forty-eight grueling miles up the side of a mountain.
Rendevous Aid Station was the turnaround point for the hundred milers. Brooke hadn’t exactly dropped so much as missed the cutoff. She was still pushing as hard as she could, trying to make it in, but arrived four minutes too late.
The cutoffs were what got most people, and honestly, they were the reason Gina never signed up for the long-distance races. Too much pressure. She was willing to do short 5K races, especially if they were advertised as fun runs or a fundraiser for a cause she believed in, but she had enough pressure at the hospital and with search and rescue, and she didn’t need that kind of pressure in her leisure activities.
Brooke continued on as if Gina hadn’t even spoken.
“They didn’t have to say it.” Brooke’s laugh held no humor. “DNF speaks for itself. Did Not Finish. Couldn’t hack it.”
“Why are these so tight?” Kelsey asked, still standing at the boarded window. “We can barely see out.”
“Probably a good thing,” Joe replied as he leaned against the wall, his stance finally admitting how much the altitude and exertion had taken out of him. “If it wasn’t closed up, it’d be even colder in here.”
With his boots laced, Nick stood. “I’m going to start setting things up. I know Brooke has her reasons for wanting to stay out here in the hallway, but I think we’d be better off moving into this room.” He motioned to a large space off the hallway. “Looks like it used to be the dining hall.”
“Probably a good idea,” Gina agreed.
Nick started setting up their camp with the kind of know-how that came from doing this often. Too often, probably.
Gina watched him work...dark hair, strong build, and the kind of shoulders that came from years of actual labor.
He looked up from his work and caught her staring. Their eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, everything else—the wind, cold,Brooke’s muttering—fell away. He didn’t look away. Didn’t hide. Just waited, like he wanted her to really see him.
Gina broke the connection first, turning to check on Joe’s color and breathing—safer territory. Medical assessments she could handle. Whatever was happening between her and Nick, that was dangerous ground.
The wind howled around the old building, rattling windows and finding every gap in the structure. Outside, the world had disappeared into a white void of driving snow. They weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Looks like we’re here for the duration,” Nick said quietly, echoing her thoughts.
Gina nodded, the contradiction between her experience and reality still unresolved. For now, she’d focus on getting everyone through this safely.
Safe had always been her goal. But standing there, storm howling outside and Nick a few feet away, she wasn’t sure safe was what she wanted anymore.
Chapter 4
Nick
Nick moved through the hotel, inspecting the boarded-up windows and the structure of their temporary shelter.
The building had good bones despite decades of neglect—solid timber framing, a stone foundation that had endured countless Wyoming winters, and a roof that held against the battering wind outside.
A few nails securing the boards on the window openings were loose, the glass long gone. He’d wondered about the condition of the windows when they were gathering their gear and had grabbed a hammer from his toolkit, just in case.
“How’s it looking?” Gina asked, appearing beside him as he examined the main windows facing the storm.
“Solid enough,” he said, appreciating how she naturally fell into step with his assessment process. “Some of the windows aren’t as secure as I’d like, but they should be fine. We’ll still get some snow inside.” He gestured toward some of the wider cracks, the build up already evident. “Won’t be too bad. No roof leaks I can see, so that’s good.”
She nodded, already thinking ahead. “We should set up our sleeping area away from the windows. That back corner by the fireplace would be the warmest and most protected since there aren’t any windows, though I don’t think we should light a fire. The chimney probably has a bird nest in it or something.”
“Agreed.” Nick met her eyes. “You’re good at this. Staying calm, thinking ahead. Most people would be panicking right now.”
