Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3)

“What?” Amanda stared at him. “Seriously?”

Jesse ought to have known he’d be ribbed about this. “The guy ran at me from the trees, whooping and flapping his arms. The EMTs said he was tripping on mushrooms.”

Amanda shook her head. “Just when you think you’ve seen everything…”

“There’s a video on Facebook,” Steve held up his smartphone. “Check it out.”

Jesse went to sit near his locker, shaking his head at the sight of his fellow patrollers bending over a cell phone to watch him wrestle a naked guy.

“Full-frontal male nudity, and I missed it,” Amanda said.

Travis laughed. “I guess that’s one way to freeze your balls off.”

“Whoa!” Doug glanced over at Jesse as the video came to an end. “You trying to sixty-nine him, Moretti?”

Jesse flipped him the bird.

Then Kevin stepped inside, snow on his boots, cheeks red from the cold, his appearance initiating the pop of a half dozen beer tabs and bringing the day to an end.

Matt got to his feet. “Thanks for your work today, people. And, hey, Jesse, the parents of the kid you found yesterday called. They wanted to thank you and to let us know that it looks like he’s going to make it.”

A warm rush of satisfaction cut through Jesse’s fatigue. “That’s good news.”

Every time he helped save a life, he felt an indescribable sense of relief, as if all were right with the world—at least for a few minutes. Esri, the Team therapist, had wanted to explore this with him, but Jesse thought she was being ridiculous. Didn’t everyone who did rescue work feel that way after a good call? She was making an issue out of nothing.

Travis called over to him, shouting to be heard over so many voices and the clunking and slamming of gear and locker doors. “We’re heading to Knockers. Want to join us?”

Named after the legendary Tommyknockers that supposedly dwelled in the mines above town, Knockers was Scarlet Springs’ answer to the brewpub craze, but with a twist. It had a climbing wall—and the best damned pizza in the state.

Jesse wasn’t hungry—and he had plans. “I’ve got to get to a Team meeting.”

He packed away his gear, clocked out, and headed to his Jeep.



*

He drove down the mountain and straight to The Cave—Team headquarters—where the parking lot was filled to overflowing. This wasn’t just a meeting for primary members. Megs had also called in secondary Team members—those who provided support services—as well as provisional members who hoped to become primary members one day.

Jesse stepped inside and walked toward the operations room, the day’s tension slipping away as he crossed the large bay that held the Team’s two rescue vehicles and all of its climbing and rescue gear. As much as he enjoyed his job as a ski patroller, this was his home away from home.

In the ops room, Megs had already started roll call, her shoulder-length gray hair tied back in a ponytail, bright red reading glasses perched on her nose. “Nice of you to join us, Moretti. Heard you had an exciting day.”

Jesse stopped and stared at her. “Not you, too.”

“It’s all over the Internet, man.” Creed Herrera held up his smartphone, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You took down that skinny naked guy like a boss.”

Laughter.

“That skinny naked guy was tripping and a lot stronger than you’d think.” Jesse got himself a cup of coffee then sat between Eric Hawke, the town’s fire chief and one of the Team’s best climbers, and Herrera, who until this moment had been Jesse’s best bud. He started to remove his parka, but felt strangely cold and so left it on.

Megs continued her way down the list, using full names despite the fact that they’d worked together for years and probably knew each other better than they knew their families. “Malachi O’Brien. Isaac Rogers. Gabe Rossiter … is excused. Jack Sullivan.”

That was the thing about Megs. She was a perfectionist who never cut corners. That quality had helped her become a legend back in the days when rock climbing was a fringe sport dominated by men. Sometimes her nitpicking got on Jesse’s nerves, but that attention to detail and refusal to take shortcuts had given the Team its reputation as the best search and rescue team in the nation. Jesse could respect that.

“Nicole Turner. Austin Taylor. Lexi Taylor … who is looking very pregnant.”

Lexi, the Team’s accountant and wife of Austin Taylor, the Team’s best lead climber, ran a hand over her rounded belly, a smile on her pretty face. “Only ten weeks till my due date.”

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