The real answer to Wade’s question about why she’d been stuck out here? She’d let her emotions get the better of her and indulged in a useless crying jag. Frozen tears had wasted time, costing her precious seconds, which left her here rather than at home in her ordinary, happy loft apartment over her survival guide business.
Happy for how much longer? The fabric of her community, of her family, was fraying faster than the fire ate up the tiny pile of timber.
For the past two years, she’d escorted people off the mountain, people who’d appealed to the town council to leave their small off-the-grid community. Theirs wasn’t a cult. People could go.
They just couldn’t return or discuss where they’d been. Residents of their little town valued privacy.
For the most part, they were self-sustaining. Wild game and fish were plentiful. Every house had a portion devoted to growing fresh foods in a tiny solar-powered greenhouse. They shared, which usually worked well. Other than the winter where somehow they’d ended up with more canned salsa than anything else.
Money wasn’t needed often, but when necessary it came in an assortment of ways over the years—from selling Internet articles to savvy stock market investments that supported green living. Funds went right back into bringing supplies to the community, most of the time with her leading the way for the transference of goods.
And if the council gave the thumbs-up? Her next guide trek would be for her sister’s departure. She and the rest of her family would never see Misty again.
Sunny bit her lip hard. She’d let her selfish grief distract her once already today. She scrambled for a simple explanation that would fit what Wade already assumed about her being a part of the climbing group his PJ team had rescued, while still covering her butt if he later learned she wasn’t connected at all.
“The snowstorm hit out of nowhere. It’s easy to get disoriented.” That much at least was the truth. “Tell me more about your job.”
And stop asking about her life. Helping her forget the fact that they were both nearly naked under this blanket would be nice as well.
He eyed her over the top of Chewie’s head, his cocked eyebrow making it clear he wasn’t buying her diversion for a second. And it hit her.
Damn.
Wade was a good-looking guy. His shoulders stretched the blanket they shared with Chewie between them. The thermal underwear he wore didn’t leave much to the imagination. She’d seen hard bodies making use of her workout equipment, but this guy had pumped muscles that couldn’t be earned with free weights. He was in prime condition, honed to the max.
As if God hadn’t already gifted him with enough, Wade had the face of a fallen angel—black hair, dark stubble. Even his nose was long, straight, and perfect.
Apparently he’d never lost a bar fight.
She swallowed down a lump of granola bar and passed him the rest. “Really, I want to know about your job. What pushes a guy to jump out of an airplane into a blizzard? And by the way, how do you learn to do that?”
Eyeing her over the dog’s head, he bit off a chunk and passed the nutrition bar back. “We do basically the same training as SEALs, plus we’re also trained medics. Our focus is on rescue, military and civilian, in any situation.”
It sounded exciting and studly and altruistic, all rolled up into one. She couldn’t help but wonder how her brother’s life might have been different if he could have been a part of this arm of the military instead…
She shoved away the thought she wasn’t even allowed to think, much less say. “What do you mean by ‘any situation’?”
“We rescue downed pilots in a war zone. We jump into the ocean to assist astronauts’ landings. We work with SWAT teams, the FBI, and such, providing medic support during their training exercises.”
“Hairy stuff.”
“Not as bad as jumping into a minefield, like my buddy did last year.”
“A minefield?”
“My pal Franco was dropped onto a mountain in Afghanistan to rescue a Green Beret with his legs blown off in a minefield. We couldn’t risk the rotor wash of a landing helicopter setting off another mine that would take out the whole aircraft and everyone in it. So Franco parachuted in alone. He used his medic training to secure the patient, then the helicopter hoisted them both up.” He shook his head. “He didn’t even break a sweat.”
She considered herself pretty fearless after numerous treks around the mountain alone. She taught courses in survival and wilderness trekking. Yet even thinking about what he described sent her stomach freefalling.
The fact that he told a hero story about his friend rather than bragging on himself impressed her all the more. “Do you and your buddies try stuff like that on a regular basis?”
“It’s a kick-ass rewarding job with a kick-ass high,” he said dismissively. “What made you come to Alaska?”
The laser focus of his coal black eyes told her he hadn’t been fooled by her diversionary questions for even a second. Once he got off this mountain, he would learn there wasn’t an unaccounted-for woman in the climbing team. She certainly didn’t want to leave him with so many unanswered questions that he started poking around.
If he did, she wanted him to be looking in the wrong direction, to protect the community’s location. And most important of all, to protect her brother’s identity.
“Guess I should come clean with you.”