Chapter 2

She clicked on her radio and called down to security to be sure the trespasser had arrived at the bottom in one piece. No one answered. Miles Lawton, their security guard, was late.

Irritation set her nerves jangling. Anger made her gut clench. Paul always checked this run because shehated it. Since her accident, Satan’s Domain or any murderous trail terrified her. She could barely make herself look at it much less traverse it for pleasure. Since taking the job here, she had refused to ski it. That was Paul’s job…after all, he was patrol leader.

Exiting the lift at the top, Riley crouched to study the tracks cut in the soft snow by the intruder’s skis. Fear caused her heart rate to spike, but she had no choice. She had to be sure he wasn’t injured and needed help. Gritting her teeth, hoping her stomach wouldn’t deposit her breakfast all over her clothes, she bent her knees, pushed with her poles, and leaned in to the sway and curve of the course. Soon, feeling only a twinge in her damaged knee, she fought to pick up on the balance and rhythm required to manage the moguls hidden by last night’s heavy powder fall.

Always aware of the perfect line of the stranger’s tracks, she followed. Thank God he wasn’t on the slope, dead or alive. If he’d gone over the edge, his tracks would have shown it. As it was, they raced steadily toward the end.

Within minutes, she flew out the bottom of the trail and snowplowed to a stop. Laughing with exhilaration, she dug her poles into the ground. She’d done it! Maybe she wasn’t qualified for the top US teams because of her injury, but her training and experience had overcome—for the time being, at least—the terror that she would ruin a knee again. Of course, the run didn’t begin to match the dangerous levels of those on which she’d trained for World and the Olympics, but she would avoid ever doing this one again at all costs.

Still, she’d learned this morning that she could force herself to do it in a pinch if she absolutely had to. Like today. Anger pumped her up, preparing her to harangue the renegade skier, but to her disgust, she saw no sight of him.

The other patrollers were exiting their cars and walking to meet her. She skied over to greet them, still smiling. “You don’t need to check the double-black, Paul. I did.”

He lifted his brows in question, and she told them about the stranger. “Good for you, kid! We knew you could do it.”

“I’m not a kid, boy,” she snapped back, teasing him.

They all hand-slapped her.

In his Spanish-accented voice, Rodolfo Carrillo said, “I wonder if he’s the Olympian I overheard someone say might train here for the next World Cup.”

“What Olympian?” petite Maria Unger asked.

Rodolfo shrugged his wide shoulders. “Haven’t a clue.”

Paul McClellan added, “Me, either. You’d think someone would have told me, since I’m patrol leader.”

That brought a laugh from the team, but Riley kept the annoyance from her tone. Yes, Paul, who was older, was their leader, but she was second-in-command and should’ve been notified as well, especially if he couldn’t be reached.

Fact was, she’d often felt overlooked by the administration. Was it because she was female? Maybe because she hadn’t qualified for the Olympics again? Who knew? Perhaps someone in administration wanted her to fail so they could fire her. If so, she had no idea who it might be. Or what she might have done wrong to be considered for firing.

Insecure and paranoid to boot, that’s me…Riley O’Ryan. So stop these bad thoughts. Stop. Right. Now.

Ellie Marsh and Le Roy Adamson arrived, completing their team. They soon confirmed they hadn’t been told either.

Paul changed the subject. “Then I’ll check the single-black diamond. Gives you extra time for paperwork today.”

Riley grinned. “Thanks a lot,” meaning she didn’t thank him. Paul knew she hated paperwork. She smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, leaving to check the remaining pistes and start her classes. Afterward, she’d have time to zero in on reports.

2

As required, that night they attended the weekly welcome party at the resort where Paul presented his team, ending with Riley as his next-in-charge. “I suggest you listen to her. She’s one smart and talented lady.”

It was her job to provide a few rules and safety tips for newcomers.

“Your safety is our number one concern. We suggest you go slow the first day or so. Angels Ski Resort isover six-thousand feet above sea level, and most of you don’t live at that level. You probably don’t want to ruin your time here suffering with altitude sickness.” She followed with early symptoms of that illness.