Chapter One
“SURE YOU WOULDN’T prefer the green beer chug?” Retired Navy SEAL and current adventure tourism guide, Patrick O’Leary, gazed wistfully across Kodiak Gorge’s frozen lake toward the lodge. “If we abort this mission now, we still have time to make it.”
“You’d prefer beer over nature?” His date, Stephie King, grinned up at him from the log she’d perched on while tying her well-worn white skates. Her red hair and freckles officially made her the cutest leprechaun ever. “Last one on the lake is a skunky beer!”
She hopped up, bulleting across the lake’s remote edge. Was there nothing this dynamo couldn’t do? They’d been unofficially dating since Fourth of July. His friends said he should man-up and at the very least ask her to be his steady girl, but Patrick and relationships didn’t exactly work—long story.
Focusing on this unicorn of a sunny day instead of his friends’ advice, Patrick tucked the skates he’d borrowed from his friend Colby under one arm and used the other to close the hatchback on his trusty Subaru wagon. On the drive, the temp gauge had read a downright balmy thirty-four degrees. The sky was a clear, deep blue and there wasn’t a breath of the north wind that had battered them for months. Perfect days like this made him almost believe he’d survive winter.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Stephie waved from the ice. Her butt looked great in tight black leggings. She wore a black down jacket with a shamrock green sweater that matched her eyes. Twin braids hung out from her neon green beanie cap that read: Kiss Me I’m Alien!
He needed to just take a deep breath and pop the question—not marriage—but for sure asking her to be his girlfriend. Last thing he wanted was for her to date anyone else. With her working in Anchorage as a burn unit nurse and him constantly off in the backcountry, they didn’t see each other nearly enough. If he at least made a partial commitment, maybe she’d visit more? Or he wouldn’t feel awkward when crashing at her place.
He sat on the log alongside her Sorrel boots. When she’d suggested ice skating, he should have offered a compromise. Something along the lines of him drinking green beer while telling her from this log that she had amazing form.
“Patrick, seriously?” Hands on her hips, she cocked her head. “I wanted us to do something together.”
“We are together.”
“You don’t know how to skate.” She sashayed over in a smooth glide, stopping with dramatic flair that had her blades shredding the ice in a fantail.
“Of course, I do.”
“Prove it.” Her raised chin reminded him how he used to never back down from a challenge. Now, even thinking about a dare had his palms sweating and pulse racing. For an instant, he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to submit to the wave of panic that rose every time he replayed the crash.
“I’m good,” he said after forcing a couple deep breaths. “God’s honest truth? I’m having fun watching you. You’re poetry in motion.”
She made a gagging gesture. “You’re full of you-know-what. Oh well, guess while I’m on the medal podium at the next winter Olympics, you can say you knew me when…”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. She was a great catch. Too bad he wasn’t.
His friends’ wives’ Rose and Lilianna never should have set him up with Stephie. She was too good for him.
She’d skated at least a hundred yards from shore. It made him nervous. The ice should be plenty thick. On the end of the lake where planes came in and out, the ice pack was regularly tested. Same with the public skating area at the town park. But not out here. The water was deeper and underwater springs constantly bubbled.
“Check out this trick!” She performed a pretty spiral.
“Babe, how about coming in closer? I don’t trust the ice out that far!”
Ignoring him, she’d now outstretched both arms, gliding with her face angled toward the warm sun.
“Babe!” She probably couldn’t even hear him.
Ditching his skates, because she’d been right in her assumption that he was a crap skater, Patrick trudged out onto the ice in his snow boots. How much more fun would they be having cozied up to the lodge’s fire, sipping on those green beers?
Out here the air smelled different—not as heavily laced with pungent pine, but cleaner. Crisp. The warm weather raised the faint fishy smell that reminded him of summer.
“Where are your skates?” She rapidly approached. With her cheeks flushed and smile bright, she could have been a schoolgirl. Her womanly curves told a different story.
“I admit it. I can’t skate for crap.”
“Then why did you agree to come?”
“Because I know you love it. I figured I should at least try.”
“Great! Go put on your skates. I’ll teach you some easy moves.” She twirled away.
“I’m only getting into skates if you come closer.”
She waved.
Lips pressed tight, he was once again trudging her direction. This time, he needed to make it clear that she was putting herself in unnecessary danger by skating on untested ice. Nearer shore, the water was only a few feet deep. By this time in the season, it was frozen solid. He could tell just from the feel that it was good.
She performed another spiral followed by a jump, but she landed sideways and her left skate skid at an angle that was painful to watch. She crashed, then slid a good ten feet from where she’d touched down.
“You okay?” He tried jogging, but the ice was too slick. He switched to a shuffle. “Babe?”
“I’m fine,” she called with a wave before getting back on her feet. “Rookie mistake. My old coach would have made me do a hundred crunches after practice.”
“You competed?”
“Made it all the way to junior nationals, but I didn’t come close to ranking and boys seemed way more fun than five a.m. practice.”
“Boys, huh?” He didn’t want to hear about her being with any guy other than him—even if it had been a decade earlier.
Slipping into a playful Irish brogue, she asked, “Are ye daft? Ye dinna think ye were my only bonny lad?”
“I’d better be…” When she glided a few inches from his reach, he lunged for her, but ended up falling face-first with a solid thump against the ice.
“Are you okay?” She toe-picked to a stop alongside him, crouching to offer him her hand. “That was a nasty fall.”
“Tell me about it.” He groaned, rolling onto his back.
“I’m sorry I laughed, but you have to admit—oh!” He caught her off-balance, tugging her onto his chest.
“I’m admitting nothing…” With his hand splayed against the back of her head, he drew her in for a kiss. Her breath warmed his lips and smelled minty from the shamrock shake they’d split for lunch. Angling his head for a better fit, he coaxed her lips into parting just enough for him to invite her tongue to dance. Lord, she tasted amazing. So sweet. The fact that he needed her so much when logically he should be slowing things down wasn’t good. Kissing her, however, was very good. Which was why he kept kissing her until she pulled away. “No. Come back…”
“I will, but did you hear that?”
“My frustration? Yes. We should head to my place ASAP.”
“Patrick, I’m serious. Listen…”
At first, all he heard was a faint breeze whispering high in the pines, but then there was a muted crack, as if glass were splintering. Then it dawned on him…
“We’ve got to get back to shore.”
“Why?”
“It’s the ice. That sound is the ice cracking.”
“But it’s been so cold.”
“Doesn’t matter. Get up nice and slow…” His heart pounded. If something happened to Steph—nope. He wasn’t going there. “It’s probably just settling, but let’s not stick around to find out.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to get me off the ice and to the lodge for green beer?”
Instead of stopping, the cracking noise grew louder, echoing through the ice like an audible web.
Worry knit Stephie’s brows.
He froze. “Nice and slow, get up, then go ahead of me…”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ll be right behind. I just think it’s best if we spread out our weight.”
“Did you just call me fat?” From back up on her skates, she glanced over her shoulder with a half-smile.
“Babe, I’m not kidding. We need to haul ass or—”
Too late.
With a creaking, groaning shudder, the ice beneath them shattered, plunging Stephie then Patrick into deadly-cold black water.