Page 10 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

He pauses, back to me. "How long did what take?"

"To learn to walk again. After..." I gesture toward his leg, even though he can't see it under the blankets.

For a moment, I think he'll ignore the question or snap at me. But then his shoulders drop slightly.

"Eight months before I could walk without assistance. A year before I could manage uneven terrain. Two years before I could ski again." He turns to face me. "Why?"

I shrug, then regret it as pain shoots through my shoulder. "It took me seven months after my knee surgery before I could ski again. Not competitively, though. That dream was toast."

He sits in the chair across from me, elbows on knees.

"The Olympic trials. I remember hearing about that from people in town."

"Yeah, well. Not my finest moment." I attempt a smile that probably comes out more like a grimace. "One minute I'm on track for the Olympics, the next I'm sprawled across the slope with my knee pointing the wrong direction and my dreams going up in smoke."

"That's why you take risks," he says. It's not a question.

"Bingo." I meet his gaze directly. "When I'm pushing the limits, just for a moment, I'm me again. The me that had a future beyond teaching tourists how to pizza and french fry."

He nods, understanding in those winter-blue eyes. "And when things go wrong?"

"Then at least I feel something real." The honesty surprises even me. "Even if it's pain or fear."

Rhett looks down at his hands—strong, capable hands that carried me through the snow, that checked my fever through the night. "Five years ago, I was leading a rescue operation on the north face. Climber got disoriented in a sudden storm, fell into a crevasse."

My breath catches. He's actually opening up.

"I was cocky back then. Thought I was invincible." His voice turns hollow. "We located him, but conditions were deteriorating. Others wanted to call it off until morning. I insisted we could reach him."

"What happened?" I ask softly.

"We got him out. My team was ascending with him when I noticed signs of instability above us." His jaw tightens. "I ordered everyone to move. Fast. But I stayed back, anchoring the rope. The slide hit before I could follow them."

I can almost see it—Rhett, holding position while his team escaped, the wall of snow bearing down on him.

"The crevasse stopped me from being swept away completely. But my leg was crushed. By the time they dug me out..." He gestures to his left leg. "Frostbite finished what the rocks started."

"You saved them," I whisper. "You're a hero."

He looks up sharply. "I'm no hero. I was reckless, just like—" He stops abruptly.

"Just like me," I finish. "Except you risked yourself for others. I just risk myself for the thrill."

"My ex didn't see it that way. She saw someone who chose the mountain over coming home safely. Who loved the rush more than..."

"More than her?" I supply when he trails off.

He nods once, jaw tight.

"She left you because of the accident?"

"Six months after. Said she couldn't handle being married to 'half a man.'" His voice is flat, but I can hear the old pain underneath.

Anger flares in my chest. "What a bitch."

A startled laugh escapes him. "She wasn't wrong. I wasn't the same person."

"None of us are, after something like that." I shift, sitting up straighter despite the pain. "But we're still whole people. Different, but whole."

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