Out of Mind Read online

  The ski run’s vertical descent was over one and a quarter miles and, being south-facing, it held the snow well. Sometimes too well, and they’d have to wade knee-deep to get through it. Not today, though. It was an ideal four inches or so, which gave little resistance. Amber guessed she was flying at about thirty miles per hour and that scared her more than the black clouds swirling overhead.

  Kelli was a red blur in the distance, cutting through the white haze with a series of tight swishes. Amber couldn’t tell, but she was certain Kelli would be taking frequent glances over her shoulder to confirm she was still behind her.

  The wind screamed rather than howled and struck her at every angle; it was an effort just to remain upright. Sleet and snow attacked in a relentless torrent, and the icy needles pounded her only exposed skin—her face.

  A clap of thunder pierced her eardrums, and when a fork of lightning cut through the clouds she reached up to shield her head. It was the wrong move.

  Her face hit the snow and Amber tumbled over and over, cartwheeling down the slope. Her skis flung off and her body nearly snapped in half when she hit a tree.

  The wind punched out of her and her ribs suffered the full brunt of the impact. She crumpled into a heap at the base of the tree, and it was a couple of frantic heartbeats before she realized what’d happened.

  Giant trees above her bent and moaned, spitting clumps of heavy snow from their overburdened branches. She searched for Kelli, praying she’d appear out of nowhere. But visibility was barely three feet. After straining to see through the whiteout, her heart sank as she conceded Kelli was gone.

  Amber was alone. Scared and alone.

  Suddenly she was back on that icy ledge. Battered and broken. Frozen to her core, and so scared she could hardly breathe. Dread crawled up her spine as she remembered the terror that’d numbed her brain. She felt that now. Not from the deafening cracks of thunder that split through the menacing cloud. Not from the ice that pummeled from the sky like bullets. It was the fact that she was alone. Freezing, terrified, and alone.

  The moaning trees took on a life of their own, and brittle limbs were torn from the trunks, adding extra ammunition to the ice-laden gale-force winds.

  A tree limb crashed at Amber’s side, and it was the jolt she needed to get moving. She dragged her body upright, and that’s when she remembered that her skis had snapped off in the fall. If she was to get out of this, she needed them.

  She pushed off the trunk and, after a frantic search, found evidence of the path she’d tumbled down. It was nearly obliterated by the snow and wind. Using her poles for support, she tracked her path uphill. Each pace was a heavy step upward, and as she contemplated crawling on her hands and knees, a sense of urgency gripped her like a full-blown fever. One ski appeared out of nowhere just eight steps away, and she plucked it from the ground.

  Continuing upward, she lost all sense of time. She lost all sense of direction. All she had was uphill or downhill. Her heart thumped in her ears with both exhaustion and panic.

  The second ski was nearly buried, and it was by pure luck that she stood on it. Shattered, she crumbled to the snow.

  It’d be easy to stop. To crawl into a ball and wait for it to be over.

  But, for the first time in years, she wanted to live.

  An image of Oliver pitched into her brain. He was smiling at her—not just smiling, he was so proud of her he was bursting. She loved that look. But it was more than that. So much more. Oliver was entering her heart. Little by little. Filling her heart with a want she’d never felt before. Never. Even with Milton. This was deeper. Right into her soul. And each time she resisted Oliver’s advances she saw the confusion in his eyes…and the hurt. She hated herself every time. She desperately wanted to tell him her feelings, and everything else too. Most of all, she needed to be with Oliver.

  She pushed up from the snow. Dying here was not an option.

  Oliver drove her to succeed in the gym. He drove her to succeed now too.

  The blizzard was merciless, buffeting her with invisible fists that packed a punch, but she forced her mind to concentrate on getting down the mountain. She angled her body sideways and clipped on her skis.

  Debris tumbled in the vortex, peppering the whiteout with chunks of black, and it was impossible to differentiate sky from ground. Gravity was her only certainty. With that knowledge, she inhaled a deep shaky breath and angled her skis downhill.

  Although she couldn’t see them, the trees that lined the ski run were her only hope to keeping on track, so she glided to the left until they came into view. Tempering her speed with the angle of her skis, she counted her turns as a way of keeping her mind off the insanity around her. At one hundred, she started again.

  Progression was slow. Not the blizzard, though—the ferocious wind seemed to get stronger around every turn. But she pushed on. A couple of times she recognized different aspects of the run, but it was when she saw the marker indicating she was near the surface lift she just about cried with relief.

  A wire above caught her eye, and she yelled for joy at the sight of it. It was the cable that pulled the T-bars up the hill. But her joy was short-lived when she realized it wasn’t moving.

  Her one and only way to get up to the resort had stopped.

  Without any other choice, she forced the tears from her eyes and used the overhead wires to guide her to the turnstile that powered the T-bar up the mountain. At the very least, she could hide in the turnstile shed until the storm was over. With a bit of luck, there may even be a phone inside.

  She passed the stationary T-bars that were positioned at regular intervals and was grateful just to have something to follow. The bright yellow building that housed the turning circle for the T-bars appeared amidst the whiteout, but it was the presence of Kelli, who came running with open arms, that had tears of relief springing to Amber’s eyes.

  Kelli wrapped her in a bear hug and openly wept as she apologized a thousand times.

  “It’s okay.” She squeezed Kelli to her chest.

  “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find you. I’ve been going out of my mind.”

  “I crashed when that lightning hit. Did you see it?”

  “Way up the top?” Kelli hugged her again. “You’re amazing. Come inside, you must be freezing.”

  She turned and clomped ahead while Amber skied the final couple of yards to the shed. And that was all it really was: a shed, with only three walls because the wire fed in and out of the open side. But after what Amber had just been through, it was a mansion.

  She clipped out of her skis and joined Kelli in the corner.

  “You must’ve been scared outta your mind.” Kelli wrapped her arms around Amber again.

  She shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

  “Oh god, girlfriend. You’re the strongest woman I know. Here, sit down.” Kelli guided Amber to the corner and tugged a metallic blanket over her. Then she plucked a two-way radio off the wall.

  “T-bar trap to base. T-bar to base. This is Kelli, do you read?”

  The speaker crackled to life. “Yes, Kelli. We hear you.”

  “Amber made it; the crazy woman just appeared right out of the storm.”

  There were cheers on the other end of the line and Amber’s heart swelled at the sound.

  “That’s great news, Kelli. Now for the bad news. You’ll have to hunker down for an hour or so, till the storm blows over.”

  “That’s cool. Us girls have got some catching up to do anyway. Right, Amber?”

  Amber grinned and nodded. As Kelli finished up the call and fussed about finding emergency supplies of water, energy bars, and space blankets, Amber realized how lucky she was to have found Kelli. Their friendship had grown to be one of the most powerful relationships she’d ever had. Kelli was both a source of fun and a wealth of inspiration. And even though she was a nons
top chatterbox, she was also a great listener. Not that Amber talked much. But as they settled into the corner that offered the most protection from the wind, Amber realized that this was the perfect time to tell Kelli some of the secrets that’d been crushing her for what seemed like ever.

  Outside, the storm raged and wind slammed into the sides of the shed with such force that Amber wouldn’t have been surprised if the roof ripped off. Inside, snuggled up against each other, she told Kelli about her injuries, her coma, her recovery, and her mother dying.

  During the story, they’d cried together, and Kelli hugged Amber often. There were many things she couldn’t mention, though. She never elaborated on the crash, and Kelli most likely assumed it was a car crash. She didn’t mention her fiancé or his son. She left out her name change, the bodies in the ice, the murderer label that Victoria had given her, and Milton’s inheritance. She hated that she couldn’t tell Kelli everything. She loved Kelli, there was no doubt about that. But she wasn’t sure Kelli could keep anything a secret. After all, verbal diarrhea was Kelli’s thing. She wasn’t malicious, she was just a chatterbox.

  By the time the T-bar lift shunted to life, Amber felt like an enormous concrete blanket had been lifted from her body. It’d been cathartic to reveal some of her burdens, and Amber believed her friendship with Kelli had launched to a whole new level. And it was perfect.

  When they finally arrived at the resort, the cheers from the waiting crowd were overwhelming. A party struck up almost instantly, and the second a woolen blanket was draped over Amber’s shoulders, a wine was put into her hand. Kelli was the life of the party, and during her retelling of the drama in the storm, she made Amber out to be some kind of mythical being that amazingly emerged from the whiteout.

  She hugged Amber to her side. “She’s incredible.”

  The crowd lapped it up, and Amber’s embarrassment over the attention hit maximum capacity. Yet for the first time in years, her hideous wound took a back seat.

  It was like releasing the elephant in the room. And now that it was done, nobody seemed to notice. Maybe all these years of hiding behind it had been the wrong choice. People were more interested in what they couldn’t see. Once she got that initial exposure out of the way, it was like they no longer cared.

  Like Oliver. He didn’t seem to notice it anymore either. Nor Kelli.

  The whole concept was like a brilliant light. Focused, daring, enlightening.

  By the time she’d had her second wine, she was totally relaxed, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was enjoying being in a crowd of strangers.

  Once again, she found herself wishing Oliver could be here to see her.

  It seemed like an eternity before she was able to leave the celebration, and Erik was a gentleman and walked her back to her chalet. Once safely at her door, he pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. “So glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks.” She was beyond flustered as she listened to his thumping heart.

  He pulled back. “Okay then, see you tomorrow.” He turned and set off back toward the party.

  She was glowing inside and out by the time she stepped into the cabin.

  In her bathroom, she stripped out of her clothes and reluctantly glanced in the mirror. She already assumed she’d have bruises, but the quantity and the severity of them had her gasping. It looked like she’d been shoved in a cocktail maker with chunks of ice and shaken like crazy. The bulk of her bruising was on her hips, buttocks, ribs, and shoulders. A couple on her thighs and shins were straight lines, and she assumed they were from the dislodging skis.

  Pain had been her constant companion for many years now, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. She was eternally grateful her body had slipped into a coma after the chopper accident, because she doubted she could have handled the pain she would’ve suffered.

  But the pain she was feeling now took a back seat to another emotion: pride.

  Her determination in the storm proved her strength had improved a thousand fold from the woman who’d woken from the coma. And not just physically, mentally too. The fact that she chose life over death was truly empowering. She’d turned a corner and was now treading on exciting groundbreaking territory.

  After a long hot shower, she pulled on flannel pajamas and fluffy socks and wrapped a woolen scarf around her neck. She’d taken to wearing a red scarf, similar to the one Angel had been wearing when she’d frozen to death in that crevasse. Somehow it made her feel closer to the poor woman whose demise had been destined to remain untold. Amber planned on changing that, though. And she was pretty confident she was on track.

  She poured her usual glass of wine nightcap, although with how exhausted she already felt, she doubted she’d have any trouble sleeping. Placing her wine on the side table, she switched on her laptop and curled up in front of the fire to go through her emails.

  The very first message had her sitting up, wide awake.

  Carter Logan had finally responded to one of her five emails.

  Chapter 17

  The entire time Oliver was belaying for Peter, who was halfway up the rock wall, he shared his concentration between the climber and the blackness outside. He knew Amber would be out there, hiding in the shadows. It no longer seemed strange that she did this. He’d come to accept her secrecy. He just hoped that one day she’d feel comfortable enough to confide in him. And when she did, he hoped he’d react in a way that didn’t scare her off.

  The bell sounded, signaling Peter had reached the top, and Oliver scolded himself for missing it as he lowered Peter to the mat. “Good work, buddy.”

  “Felt great up there tonight.”

  “Excellent, that’s how it’s meant to feel.” Oliver clapped Peter on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, it doesn’t always, though.”

  “If it was always amazing, you wouldn’t recognize the good times.”

  “You, my friend, missed your calling.” Peter unclipped his harness.

  “Really?” Oliver chuckled. Intrigued, he asked, “What should I be doing?”

  “Priesthood, or something just as godly.”

  “Oh jeez, Pete, I think you went too high on that climb.”

  Peter laughed. “It’s true, you’re a miracle worker.”

  When he’d first come into Oliver’s gym, Peter had just separated from his wife of seven years. He was a broken man who’d devoted his life to his work and left little time for his marriage or his health. To his credit, Peter had since turned his life around. He put the balance back into his work/life equation. He dedicated a chunk of his schedule to getting fit, and he’d put a concerted effort into fighting for his marriage. His efforts had paid off—he was back with his wife and he looked incredible.

  “You did all the work, Pete.”

  “Thanks to you.” Peter tapped Oliver on the shoulder. “See you next week.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Oliver followed Peter to the front door, and after he left he searched the shadows. Amber appeared out of nowhere, and he couldn’t stop the smile blazing across his lips. “There you are. Quick, get in before anyone sees you.”

  She chuckled as she slinked beneath the arm he was using to hold the door open. As she strolled toward the office, he shut the door and twisted the sign around to closed.

  Amber flipped the bag off her shoulder and turned to him. “How was your day?”

  “Same, same.” A potent mix of hormones dosed his veins when he inhaled her delicious scent. It was floral, spicy, and familiar. It was Amber. “How about you? See anything interesting in those reports?”

  “Well,” she said, “one of the doctors is treating a woman who eats dry dog biscuits to keep in touch with her dog that died.”

  Oliver’s jaw dropped. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Nope. The dog died ten years ago.”

 
“That’s disgusting. And weird.”

  “And very sad.” She scrunched up her nose, and when she tucked her hair behind her right ear he had to resist pulling her into his chest and squeezing her tight. When he’d first met her, she did everything possible to drape her hair across her scar. Now, though, she wasn’t as self-conscious. He liked to think he’d helped with that transformation.

  “Actually, they probably taste better than those vegetarian sausages you eat.” Oliver was a devoted meat and vegetables man. Throw in a beer and he was as happy as the winner of the World Series. He couldn’t comprehend how someone could live on vegetables alone. He wondered how Amber had any energy at all.

  She playfully slapped his arm. “You should try them, they’re good.”

  “Oh, no no no. Bring on the big fat steak for me.” He chuckled and liked the easy grin lighting up her face. She smiled freely now. And laughed. It’d been a full six weeks before he’d heard her laugh. Now she was the one cracking the jokes, and he loved every minute with her—so much so that he’d become a constant clock-watcher, counting down the minutes to her next session.

  “You ready to break your record?”

  “Sure am.” Amber’s climbing ability had not only surprised him, it’d made him rethink the way he assessed new customers. Never before had he underestimated someone so completely. She’d taken to the sport so well that he occasionally wondered if she’d done it before. If she had, she did an amazing job of faking her inexperience. He doubted she was lying. Oliver had always considered himself an expert judge of people. He’d know if she were lying.

  If it was competition rock climbing Amber was seeking, he was certain she’d be capable of winning gold soon. Although she’d never actually voiced that as her goal. At this point he had no idea why rock climbing was so important to her.

  “Climber ready,” Amber announced as she paused at the base of the wall.

  “Up you go then.”

  She smacked the timer and launched up the wall with the confidence of an expert and the agility of a cat. Unlike his earlier customer, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Amber was born for this form of exercise. She was tiny and slender, and since she’d started climbing, new muscle definition was noticeable despite the full-length clothing she wore all the time.