A Matter of Trust(78)

Gage closed his eyes, wincing.

“And that’s pretty tight tree cover down there. We might be able to drop in a litter, but there’s no guarantee we can pull him out. Over.”

“If you drop it in, I can ski him out.” Maybe. But with the thicket of trees, the ridgeline cordoning them off . . .

No, of course he’d ski Oliver, and Ella, out. Safely.

“Wilco,” Miles said. “Repeat your position.”

“We’re in the Cathedral Forest, about another mile to the ridge. Heading down along the ridge into the center of the canyon.”

“Roger. We’ll leave at first light and radio when we get close. And we’ll map a route in on snowmobile. Ty and Pete will head out as soon as they can. Best we can do.”

It would have to be good enough. “Roger. Wilco. Watson out.”

He stood there a moment, just watching the stars breach the dark blue canopy of night. The jagged, glistening outline of the mountains against the indigo heavens.

And rising above them all, Heaven’s Peak.

He stared up, seeing in his mind the trek they’d taken down the mountain, that first jump, where they’d camped last night, Weeping Wall, the cave where they found Bradley, Angel’s Wings . . .

This is where it had started, all of it—the epic YouTube video, the freestyle championships, meeting Ella . . .

The rise before his colossal fall.

And God had led him right back here. As if he might be trying to tell Gage something.

Ty’s words to him, only a few days old, drifted back to him. “Dude. You wear your mistakes like a brand on your forehead. You need to get over it.”

Maybe God brought him back here to give him a reset. A do-over. Gage didn’t have to be a cautionary tale, not anymore.

He should go see that kid—Hunter—when they got out of this. Maybe his fame could come to some good.

In fact, maybe everything could change if he did this right. Restart with Ella in his life—yeah, he’d figure it out. Move to Vermont.

Maybe start freeriding again.

Gage sat, unlatched his boots, and snapped off the bindings from the board. Then he stood it up and unhooked the board where it latched at the top, then at the heel. He split the board, then reattached the bindings into touring mode. After standing the skis upright in the snow, he pulled out his skins, took one, and attached it to the tip of his board. He did the same with the other, pressing them tight along the bottoms.

Then he clipped his boots back into the bindings. Took a breath and sighted his line. He’d simply follow it back to Ella and the camp.

“Okay, Ella, here I come.”



The howling was just the wind.

Really, it had to be.

Please.

Ella sat at the edge of the tent, shining her light out into the night through the tiny opening, her hair rising as another mournful cry hung on the wind.

Start a fire—right. She hadn’t a clue how to find dry firewood in the woods, especially in the thick of night. She did well to get the stove going, melt water, and make supper.

She’d saved a cup of chili mac for Gage. Who would be back any minute.

Any. Minute.

“It’s cold out there, sis. Come in and shut the door,” Ollie said from behind her.

“I’m trying to keep the wolves away,” she snapped. “Someone has to keep us alive, and poor Gage is out there somewhere, alone and . . .” She closed her eyes. Now she simply sounded hysterical.

She didn’t do hysterical. Ever. Even when she wanted to fly apart—like watching Gage get swept away in an avalanche, or even after escaping her own avalanche—

“Do you know that I outran an avalanche looking for you today?” She glanced at Ollie. He lay on the sleeping bag, finishing off a power bar. A sheen of sweat slicked his forehead. She frowned—it wasn’t that warm in here. In fact, she could still see her breath.

“Cool,” Ollie said, and grinned at her.

On second thought, it was probably his own arrogance heating him from the inside. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah. I think it was just exhaustion. I stopped to take a breath, and the next thing I knew, you were slapping me on the face.”

“I didn’t slap you.” She turned back to the door. “And it wasn’t cool. It was terrifying. In fact, the last two days I’ve pretty much lived in terror trying to find you.”

“You didn’t have to come after me—”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I did. You’re my brother, my idiot brother, but—”

“Hey.” He sat up, and she noticed the quick intake of breath, as if he was in pain. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve been studying this route for two years. And this weekend was my chance to go down in history.”