Page 22 of Mountain Summons

Tristan shook his head. “Not a wimp. A sprained ankle can hurt as much as a broken one.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“I do. I may have run a bit wild in my youth before settling down.”

“Piloting a helicopter for the PGHM, saving lost hikers and discovering old skeletons … Doesn’t sound like settling down to me.”

“Speaking of old skeletons. Part of my team is up there today, securing the scene. A forensic pathologist is on his way to get him out of the rock.”

“You think it’s ahim?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know. The jacket looked like a man’s jacket, so I just assumed … We’ll have to wait and see.”

He stood in front of her, holding the crutches in one hand while he offered her his other hand, helping her up. He smelled of something earthy and fresh, like cedarwood and lemons. It was one of the first things she’d noticed about him when they’d first met, and she’d smelled it again last night in the cave, when he was using her body to warm her. God. She’d been so cold. She didn’t want to think how close she’d come to losing everything. He’d probably saved her life.

“Okay. Here you go,” he said, waiting until she had both crutches in place before releasing her and taking a small step back. “You okay, Lena?”

“I like how you call me Lena. Your colleagues, they called me Madeleine. OrMademoisellePelegrin.” She winced. That last one was the worst.

“That’s what I should call you. But I can’t help it. You’re Lena to me.” His jaw clamped together, as if he was going to say something else, and then thought better of it.

Lena stepped forward on her good leg. She wasn’t in too much pain. The painkillers they’d given her earlier that morningwere still doing their job. But the nurse had warned her she might need to buy some Ibuprofen for later.

Tristan stood right next to her, his body tense. He looked ready to take her up in her arms, as he’d done the previous day, but she didn’t want that. She wanted to stand on her own two feet. She wanted to go home and take a shower. Followed by a nap. Or maybe the other way around, she hadn’t decided yet.

It was slow going—were these crutches even at the right height?—but eventually she made it to the door, and then, slowly—ever so slowly—all the way across the endless corridor. To his credit, Tristan kept pace with her the whole time, not rushing her, acting like her snail’s pace was just fine with him.

“You’re doing great,” he said, pressing the button. She shot him a scathing glare. She did not need a pep talk.

He raised his hands in defeat. “Okay. I’ll stay quiet. I promise.”

And he did, though he stayed close all the way to the exit, his hand hovering near her waist, as if ready to catch her if she so much as wobbled.

“Wow. This isn’t as easy as I thought.”The next few weeks are going to be long.

“Sit here,” Tristan said, helping her down onto a freezing cold bench that made her think it would be snowing soon. “I’ll go get the car and bring it closer.”

He pulled up a few minutes later in a sporty-looking dark gray Lexus. The car was fancier than she’d expected, but it suited him. “Here,” he said, holding her crutches easily in one hand while, with the other one, he helped her into the passenger’s seat. She eased in gently, her ankle throbbing gently with the effort. She ignored it. She was out of the hospital, and that was all that mattered.

“You okay?”

She nodded, then thought better of it. “I feel like I just ran a mile.”

“I can believe that,” he replied. “I’d say you’re doing great, but I wouldn’t want you to bite my head off.”

Lena laughed as Tristan shut the door gently, then rounded the hood before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Seatbelt,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes but complied, eager to be on the way.

As he pulled onto the road, she let her head rest against the cool window, watching the familiar streets roll past, the golden leaves fluttering in the breeze. Some things had changed since she was a little girl. Chamonix had become a lot more popular, that was for sure. But other things remained the same. This was, and would always be, home.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Tristan noticed, because he reached over to crank up the heat.

“You warm enough?” he asked, glancing at her before getting his attention back on the road.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Just tired.”

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