Oh. His solemn tone took some wind out of her anger. “I didn’t know that. Really, you’ve been studying for two years?”
“Watching videos, studying the mountain.”
“But you were partying the night before you left!”
“No, I wasn’t. I was in the bar, yes, but I wasn’t drinking. I was meeting with our chopper pilot. And okay, I might have called Gage Watson, but that was just pride talking. I’d been studying his style for so long—and then to have him track me down and take away my ski pass . . . it turned my crank.”
Ollie slumped back. “Why’d you have to bring him, of all people? Now he sees me as some hotshot who needed to be rescued.”
She was still trying not to see him that way. “Because he knows this mountain. And—oh never mind. Ollie, listen. I know you’re angry with me—”
“I’m not ten years old anymore. I’m an adult, and I don’t need you to rescue me. Or tell me I’m an idiot.”
Her mouth pressed tight. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine—”
“No. I’m sorry that I didn’t know you had actually prepared for this. I might not have called out the cavalry.”
He nodded. “Well, it’s probably good you did. Bradley needed help. And I’m still not feeling well. My head is starting to really hurt.”
“How’d you get sick, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the pizza?”
“I didn’t have any.” But Brette had, and Gage’s words about Brette going to the hospital nudged her memory. “I was out looking for you.”
He made a face.
“I know you’re not a little kid anymore, but . . . you’re still my kid brother, and you’re all I have.”
He opened his eyes, a little incredulity in them. “No, I’m not. You have Mom and Dad.”
“They’re not my mom and dad—”
“Yes, they are. And if you’d just slow down and realize you don’t have be so awesome all the time, you’d figure out that they love you just because you’re their daughter. Look at me—I spent the better part of my high school years, and yeah, maybe freshman year in college—screwing up. But they still love me.”
“I know. You sooo don’t deserve it.” But she smiled.
“I don’t. And, by the way, I know you think I’m still smoking pot, but I’m not. I kicked that six months ago when I went in training for this run. Went home, told Mom and Dad I wanted to do this. I showed them a video of me, showed them I was actually good at this. They finally told me that if that was my passion, that they would support me.”
“They so did not. Not after what happened to Dylan.”
“They so did. Accidents happen, yeah, but I’m not a child, Elle. And they get that. Mom knew I was flying out here. Do they know you’re here?”
Oh. She shook her head. “I just assumed . . .”
“Yeah, well, you know the saying.”
“I’m sorry, Ollie. I jumped to conclusions and . . . now we’re out here . . .” Surrounded by wolves. Another cry hung in the air.
Ollie seemed to not hear it. “You’ve been busy, I get it. It’s not like we talk or anything.”
She sat down on her sleeping bag. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, you’re busy saving the world.”
“Not saving the world, but yeah, I have people who depend on me.”
“Senator.”
She frowned at him.
“There you go, assuming I’m mocking you. It could be that I’m proud of you. And maybe someday you’ll be proud of me.”
Oh, Ollie.
Another howl drifted in on the wind.
“Is that getting closer?” Ollie asked. “Because I have a gun in my pack.”
“You have a—you have a gun?”
“Yeah, I thought—well, bears and wolves . . . I got my permit about a year ago, right after I turned eighteen, took a bunch of classes—”
“Wow, I really don’t know you.”
“But you want to, don’t you?” He grinned, winked.
Yeah, she sort of did. Because, in that lopsided smile, she saw him. Jovan. Cocky, smart, brave. And a touch of her father.
Here she’d spent her life trying to resemble her amazing parents, and Ollie did it by just being himself.
The howls outside sounded closer.
“Where’s that gun?”
“Do you know how to use it?” Ollie asked as he pointed to his backpack. “Outside pocket.”
She found a 10mm Glock and pulled it out. “I don’t know what to say.”