Jesse was sitting in the lodge eating lunch, when his Team pager went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and scrolled through the message.

Shit.

He slid the pager into his pocket and reached for his mic. “Forty-two to dispatch.”

Matt answered. “We heard the call go out on the radio. You’re cleared to go.”

Jesse shoved the rest of his lunch back into the bag, retrieved his skis from the rack outside, and skied the short distance to the Ski Patrol chalet. He was in and out of the locker room in under two minutes.

“Hope you find him!” Matt’s words followed him out the door.

There wasn’t much chance of that, but Jesse didn’t have the heart to say it. He had responded to four avalanche calls in his time with the Team. Not once had they recovered a live person. When he’d asked Megs about this, she’d told him it was the norm in Colorado. Most avalanches happened in the backcountry, far from towns and cities. If the victim’s buddies couldn’t find him, there was almost no chance that he would still be alive by the time rescuers arrived on the scene.

“There is always hope, and so we try,” she’d said.

Driven by that hope, Jesse ran to his vehicle, stowed his skis and boots in the back, then climbed into the driver’s seat and set out for Ute Ridge Trail, a good ten minutes away. Knowing that every one of those ten minutes could make a difference between life and death, he pushed on the gas, driving as fast as he could.

Megs’ voice came over his police radio. “The missing skier is a male, aged twenty-two. The victim’s friends say he was wearing a beacon.”

That was good news.

“The sheriff’s department is loaning us its chopper. A K9 unit will arrive via helicopter.”

More good news. A well-trained avy dog could find a victim in a fraction of the time it took human rescuers.

Eight minutes later, Jesse reached the Ute Ridge parking area. As the first person on the scene, he now became Incident Command. He grabbed the radio from its charger and clipped the mic to his parka. “Sixteen-ninety-four, arrival on scene. I’m heading up to the slide area as Ute Ridge Command.”

Megs replied. “Copy, Ute Ridge Command.”

The passing seconds weighed on Jesse as he climbed out of his vehicle, strapped on his snowshoes, and took his avalanche beacon out of his backpack. Full of rescue gear that changed with the seasons, the pack stayed in his vehicle at all times.

In the distance, he could hear the thrum of an approaching chopper.

He turned on the beacon’s transceiver, then shouldered his pack and set out up the trail at a run—or as much of a run as he could manage in snowshoes. He’d gone about a hundred yards when the trees gave way to a broad expanse of snow. In the summertime, this was a meadow, but winter revealed what it truly was—the debris field of an avalanche track. Bits of trees and rocks lay jumbled in the snow, torn from the mountainside.

Higher on the slope, he saw two men moving in disorganized circles. They were shouting something—a name.

“Jason!”

Why the hell weren’t they using their damned transceivers?

One of them spotted him and waved his arms.

Jesse waved back to let them know he’d seen them.

The thrum of the chopper’s rotors grew louder as it buzzed overhead, the pilot surveying the scene, looking for a safe place to land.

Jesse worked his way uphill, pushing himself to go faster.

Beep.

He’d gotten a ping.

“Ute Ridge Command, I’ve got a signal. Following it to the source.”

He held up his transceiver, saw that it was directing him to a point about eighty yards uphill—about fifty yards lower on the mountainside than the victim’s two friends had been searching. He moved as quickly as he could, sucking in lungfuls of air, his heart thrumming, his gaze on the display.

Sixty yards. Fifty. Forty-five. Forty.

Thirty yards.

Jesse was winded now, his thighs aching, his lungs straining for breath, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Twenty yards.

From somewhere behind him came the sound of slowing rotors. The chopper had landed. The others were here.

Ten.

Jesse slowed, checked the display.

According to the transceiver, the victim should be right … there.

He reached for his mic. “I’ve located the source of the signal.”

“Copy. The rest of the Team is headed your way.”

Down at the base of the slope, Conrad, Ahearn, Taylor, Hawke, and Kenzie were already on their way up the mountainside, a golden ball of fur bounding through the snow ahead of them.

The victim’s friends saw that Jesse had stopped. They must have guessed that he had picked up the signal. They headed straight for him.

Jesse pulled his shovel out of his backpack, extended the telescoping handle, and started to dig, chopping at the hard-packed snow and pushing it downhill.

“Did you find him?” one of the young men shouted.

“Stop!” Jesse held up a hand. “Don’t compact the snow on top of him. Get downhill from me, and start digging.”

They looked guiltily at each other.

“We don’t have shovels.”

You’re fucking kidding me!

Jesse didn’t waste breath telling them they were idiots but kept digging.

From somewhere nearby, he heard a bark.

Charlie, the golden retriever, had picked up the scent and was running his way. In the time it took Jesse to move another shovelful of snow, Charlie was there, digging, his claws as effective as steel.

Jesse helped the dog, moving the snow, digging with him.

Conrad’s booming voice came from behind him. He shouted at the victim’s buddies. “If you’re not going to help, get the hell out of the way!”

Then Conrad was digging, too.

Charlie barked again.

A glimpse of blue.

Now Hawke, Taylor, and Ahearn were there, all of them shifting snow as fast as they could.

A leg.

Movement.

Jesus!

He was alive.

* * *

Jesse walked into Knockers with Herrera, craving pizza and beer, the sound of bluegrass rising above the hum of voices. They’d held a debriefing at The Cave for the Team members who had participated in the rescue, and now everyone was starving.

Rain, who’d worked at Knockers for as long as Jesse had lived in Scarlet Springs, met them just inside the door, a smile on her face, her long blond hair piled on top of her head. “I heard you brought down an avalanche victim alive today, Moretti. Way to go.”

Jesse couldn’t help but grin, still on a post-rescue high. “I didn’t do it alone.”

Rain was gorgeous in her own way—sexy rose tattoos on her arms, little nose ring, long hair, curves. She pointed. “Megs and the others are already here.”

Ahearn, Conrad, Hawke, Kenzie, Megs, Belcourt, and Sasha were seated around the big table closest to the climbing wall. Megs was filling Sasha in.

“One of his buddies had a transceiver, but it wasn’t working because Mr. Freaking Genius hadn’t changed the batteries.”

Sasha stared at Megs in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

“Backcountry skiing one-oh-one—check the batteries in your transceiver.” Hawke dragged a corn chip through salsa. “There’s no cure for stupid.”

Jesse reached for the beer menu. “They didn’t have shovels either.”

“What kind of idiot goes skiing in the backcountry without a shovel?” Ahearn shook his head. “They’re damned lucky it wasn’t one of them who got buried. We’d have had a lot less to go on.”

Kenzie smiled, reached under the table. “Charlie would have found them. Wouldn’t you, boy?”

Jesse looked under the table to find Charlie curled up at her feet, napping. “Hey, buddy. Good job today.”

Charlie opened his eyes and wagged his tail, but the rest of him lay still. The poor pooch had worn himself out.

“So the victim’s going to be okay?” Belcourt asked.

Jesse nodded. “He had a fractured tibia and clavicle, and he was pretty shaken up. Apart from that, he’s okay.”

“I bet he’ll never go skiing with those two ass clowns again.” Conrad took a swig of his beer. “If it had been left to them, he’d be dead tonight.”

“On that happy note, have all of you signed up for SnowFest?” Megs looked straight at Jesse. “Before you say a word, you should know that I already know the answer to that question.”

Shit.

Jesse had forgotten about that. “I’ll get on it.”

“Did someone order the large Classic?” Victoria, Hawke’s wife, appeared at the table wearing a big smile and a white chef’s coat and carrying a large pie in a steel pan.

Hawke grinned, raised his hand. “I did. How else could I see my wife? Why don’t you sit right next to me and help me eat it, darlin’?”

Victoria laughed. “And leave Rico to handle all the pizza orders? He’d never forgive me. Besides, you have Jesse. He can have my half.”

“Fine—but he’s nowhere near as good-looking as you are.”

“No argument from me,” Jesse said.

A transplant from Chicago, Victoria had given up a fast-paced career at some big PR firm to be with Hawke. The two were crazy in love. The way Jesse saw it, Scarlet Springs had gotten the better part of the deal because Victoria had brought real Chicago-style deep-dish pizza to Knockers, saving the town from culinary boredom.

She set the dish down in the center of the table, the scents of garlic, sausage, and tomato sauce making Jesse’s mouth water. “Enjoy.”

Jesse didn’t mind if he did.

* * *

When he got home, Jesse logged on to the SnowFest website, clicked the link for volunteers, and looked over the schedule. There weren’t many slots left.

The shotski was covered. So was the polar bear plunge, the ice climbing competition, and the snow sculpture contest. The skijoring event had a few slots, but Jesse was hoping to compete, so that wasn’t an option. That left the kids’ snowman competition or the first-aid tent.

He clicked on the first-aid tent, his gaze falling on the name of the organizer.

Ellen Meeks.

Hmmm.

This whole thing had just become much more appealing.

* * *

Ellie dropped the kids off at her mother’s place Monday morning after a busy weekend working in the emergency room. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I just don’t see how I’m supposed to run a meeting with two toddlers running around.”

“You don’t have to apologize, honey. Believe me, I understand.” Her mother gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Just remember I’ve got that eye appointment at one.”

Her mother needed surgery for cataracts and had been putting it off for months.

“I’m not letting you wiggle out of that. I’ll be back long before then.” Ellie bent down and kissed the twins. “Be good for Grandma, okay?”

Feeling irritated at being forced to give up part of her day off, she drove to the library, where she’d reserved a conference room. She reminded herself that SnowFest accounted for some portion of the hospital’s annual operational budget. Still, there were people on staff who attended the event and didn’t have kids. Couldn’t Pauline have drafted one of them to organize the first-aid tent?

Ellie had spent a few hours last night looking through the folders Pauline had given her. Organizing this whole thing was a bigger responsibility than she’d been led to believe. She’d already put in an order for a long list of supplies with Central Supply at the hospital. She still had liability insurance requirements to manage and about thirty-six hours to fill with qualified volunteers. She hoped she had enough people to staff the tent throughout the three-day event. She would be there eight hours each day starting at seven, but the tent was open until nine at night.

She grabbed the expandable file organizer that held the folders and all of the paperwork for volunteers, climbed out of the car, and walked inside to the reference desk. “Ellie Meeks. I reserved a conference room for ten a.m.”

A young woman she didn’t know set a clipboard on the counter in front of her. “You’re in the Summit Room. I’ll need you to sign for the key.”

Ellie signed her name, put the date and the time, then took the key and made her way upstairs. She found a handful of people waiting outside the locked door, most of them nurses she knew from the hospital. “Good morning.”

Lolly Cortez, an older LPN who worked in the ER, gave her a sympathetic smile. “I was wondering who Pauline had roped into doing this.”

Ellie tried to act less irritated than she felt. “I guess it was my turn.”

She unlocked the door, stepped inside, and flicked on the light, then went about setting out the paperwork volunteers would need to fill out, along with copies of the schedule. People shuffled into the room through the open door behind her, taking their seats.

She looked up—and froze.

Jesse.

He moved toward a vacant chair—all six-feet and four-inches of him. He looked wind-blown, as if he’d just come off the slopes, his hair rumpled, his cheeks red from cold. His lips curved into a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

There was something in that smile, something in his eyes, too, that made her heart beat faster—and left her feeling uneasy. Was he interested in her?

Oh, no. No. Ellie didn’t want that. Did she?

She searched for something to say. “Are you … uh … off today?”

He shook his head. “My boss gives me time off for Team stuff.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He’d told her that already.

She willed herself to break eye contact and greet the others in the room. Most were nurses from the hospital, but there were a few paramedics from the fire department as well. “Thanks for being here this morning, and thanks for signing up to help staff the first-aid tent. I’m going to pass around the volunteer forms. If you could each take one and fill it out, we’ll get started.”

She moved point by point through the basics—how many hours each of them would need to volunteer to fill the schedule, what supplies the hospital would be donating, what she expected of them during their time on duty. Then she ran through the check-in procedure.

“What kinds of patient visits can we expect?” Lolly asked.

“Good question.” Ellie pulled out the report from last year’s festival. “Last year, we had fifteen cases of hypothermia, one person with chest pain, a bloody nose, six people with altitude sickness, a twisted ankle, an ice climber with abrasions and lacerations, two severe hangovers…”

That brought laughter.

“… and two hospital transfers from the skijoring event—a dislocated shoulder and suspected concussion, and a broken wrist.”

She could feel the heat of Jesse’s gaze on her as she spoke, his attention making it hard to think. She avoided looking his way, willed herself to focus on the job.

“Part of our agreement with the town of Scarlet Springs is that we’ll have at least one person certified in CPR and AED use in the tent at all times. That means I’ll need a copy of your current certifications. If you didn’t bring them with you, that’s fine. You can scan them and email them to me. I’ll need to have them on file before the festival opens. Are there any other questions?”

A few hands went up.

Ellie did her best to answer.

Yes, the fire department would once again have an ambulance on site. Yes, the tent would have heat and electricity. Yes, there would be a warm-up room for anyone suspected of having hypothermia. Yes, they would have oxygen and AEDs. No, she didn’t care whether a person did all six of their volunteer hours in a single day or spread them out over three days, as long as the tent had full coverage. Yes, she would need as much help as she could get unpacking the supplies and setting up. No, they wouldn’t need to set up the actual tent itself.

Jesse held up his hand. “How do you plan to handle it if someone needs help but is unable to get to the first-aid tent? The festival takes up most of downtown and stretches all the way to the reservoir. That’s a big area to cover.”

She hadn’t thought about that. Nothing in Pauline’s file addressed this issue. “I imagine we’d try to bring aid to them or ask the fire department to respond.”

Jesse seemed to consider this. “I could ask the Team to lend us one of its utility task vehicles. A UTV would make getting from one side of the event to the other a lot faster. It can handle snow and ice, and it can maneuver between booths—something an ambulance can’t do. Also, there’s room on the back to carry a litter should anyone need to be transported.”

Ellie could only see one problem with that. “Most of us don’t know how to drive one of those things.”

He laughed, his face lighting up with a grin that she felt all the way to her toes. “You drive it like a car—automatic transmission, steering wheel, brakes.”

“Oh. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks. Let me know what Megs decides.”

* * *

Relieved to have the initial meeting behind her, Ellie returned the key to the reference desk and walked outside—only to find Jesse leaning against her car, arms crossed over his chest, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes. She did her best to keep things professional. “Can I help you with something?”

“Help?” He grinned, looking sexier than any man should. “No. I wondered if you would like to join me for lunch.”

So she hadn’t been reading him wrong. He was interested in her.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She fumbled for her keys, her mind racing for a way out of this, an excuse. Then she remembered. “I need to pick up the kids. My mom has an appointment at one.”

He glanced at his watch. “A cup of coffee then?”

Damn.

She hated to hurt his feelings, but she needed to make herself clear.

“Jesse, I …” Why did these things have to be so difficult? “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for the kids and me, and I appreciate your volunteering for the first-aid tent. But I know what you’re trying to do. I’m just not ready to date yet.”

One dark brow arched. “You think I signed up to volunteer for the first-aid tent to get closer to you?”

The way he said it made it sound like the most absurd conclusion possible.

“I signed up for this because I was sick over the weekend and all the other events had filled up. Megs would bust my ass if I didn’t volunteer for something. I asked you to lunch because we’re neighbors.”

Oh. God!

She stared up at him, her cheeks burning, the sharp edge of guilt pressing into her. She was such an idiot! “I guess I misunderstood. I just thought … I’m sorry.”

But she’d seen interest in that smile, in those eyes.

His forehead relaxed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Ellie to stare after him.