Page 3 of Mountain Impact

So here she was, on a Sunday morning, staring at the crumpled remains of a cable car. She looked on, horrified, but unable to look away.

Nobody could have survived this.

Two firefighters stood nearby, spraying something at the remains.

“Did anybody survive?” she asked the uniformed officers standing next to her, dreading the answer. The young man and woman looked up at her.

“There were only two men on board, and they’re both alive. The cabin was held up by those trees up there for a minute, before dropping again and crashing all the way down here. They were rescued just before the second drop.”

Isolde looked to where they were pointing. She could see what was left of the trees that must have held it in place before it went off the ledge.

My God.

“They’re okay?”

The officer nodded. “They’ve been taken to the hospital with fractures, but they were both conscious and speaking—a miracle, if you ask me, after falling thirty feet and then tumbling down the mountain. They were lucky to get out before that last fall—that’s the one that pulverized the cable car.”

“I’d like to speak to the first responders,” she said, amazed that they’d been able to get to the men that quickly.

“He was here just a few minutes ago.”

“Check behind those trees. That’s where I last saw him,” the young woman said.

“He?” Isolde asked. “There’s only one first responder?”

“Yes. Apparently, he was mountain biking in the area. He was lucky not to be squashed like a bug by the falling cabin. He’s one of the PGHM—big guy, with brown hair and gray eyes,” the uniform supplied helpfully.

Isolde’s heart sank at the description.

Drake Jacobs.

She inhaled slowly.

It can’t be him.

That description could fit several men.

It doesn’t have to be him.

But she knew she was kidding herself.

“Thank you,” Isolde said, rubbing her palms along the side of her jeans.

Isolde didn’t consider herself a coward, but she suddenly found herself hoping that Drake had left the scene already. If so, she’d catch up with him the following morning in the office. It’d be easier to speak with him on her turf, rather than out here.

A moment later, those cowardly thoughts were cut off as Drake emerged from the trees, looking even taller and broader than she remembered. Larger than life. He was wearing shorts, which surprised her, until she remembered he’d been mountain biking. There was no sign of his bike.

Drake’s hand froze on his mouth as he saw her. He straightened up and dropped it slowly, his icy gray eyes defiant. She didn’t need any of her degrees to tell her that he’d gone behind those trees to throw up.

“Are you okay?” she asked. There was no need to introduce herself to him. He knew exactly who she was and why she was here. The two of them had lived through this before, albeit many years earlier.

Before she could help herself, her eyes went down to his right calf. Though it’d healed in the close to six years since she’d last seen the injury, it was still gruesome to look at. The scar started just below the knee and worked its way down ten inches of his leg before tapering to smooth flesh. It was a messy scar, jagged in some areas and bulging in others, the kind no surgeon would ever be proud of.

He caught her looking and scowled at her.

“What do you think? Not as neat as you expected?”

I’m amazed you can stand, let alone do what you do.