Shooting for the Stars (22 page)

“I can handle it,” she argued.

Her brother chuckled. “Time for rock, paper, scissors. Isn’t that how you two settle all your disagreements?”

Bear felt his face heat. And he couldn’t even
look
at Stella. The last time they’d discussed rock, paper, scissors, they’d been naked and sweaty. Head down, he went back to the map. “There are plenty of good shots to be had anywhere along here,” Bear pointed out, gesturing across the mountain range. “We’ll make it a game-time decision.”

Across the table, Stella folded her arms. “Fine. But I have a good feeling about this.”

Bear was careful to make his shrug non-committal. Because there was no way Stella was going to ride that deadly bit of snow-covered rock. “Has anyone looked at the weather report? Because it’s pretty shaky. This is why I wanted to go to British Columbia. Alaska is so dicey in the spring.”

“Why are we going, then?” Duku asked.

“Somebody at OverSight has a relationship with an Alaskan helicopter outfit. Supposedly we’re saving some money. But ten percent off on the choppers will be pretty meaningless if we can’t fly in the first place.”

“It will work out,” Hank said. “Even if we only get one day’s worth, it will be great footage. We’ll work with it.”

Bear risked a glance at Stella. She was still standing there in an ass-kicking stance, sizing him up. Their eyes locked for a second, and Bear saw determination in them. “I’m going to go and suit up,” she said, turning from the table.

“The van leaves for our last shots at Sun Valley in forty-five minutes,” he said, looking away. “Be ready.”

“I’m
always
ready,” Stella grumbled. Then she left the room.

Twenty-Two

O
N
THEIR
FIRST
DAY
in Alaska, Bear captured some quality footage in a canyon.

Unfortunately, two days of snow and sleet had followed. This morning it had actually been raining, which had depressed the hell out of everyone. If they wanted to ride in the rain, they could go back to Vermont.

Trapped in the lodge, Bear watched Hank deal a hand of five-card draw. Not that Bear was able concentrate on the cards. He was going to go out of his mind very soon, unless the guide stepped into the lodge and gave him the pilots’ weather forecast.

With one eye on the door, he anted up, placing a dollar bill in the center of the table. In his hand he found a pair of fours and not much else.

Figures
.
 

Bear needed a break, and he needed it soon. And his poker hand was not the problem. They’d been stuck inside for forty-eight hours, basically. Except for trips to the lodge next door for all their meals, they’d been housebound by bad weather. And for each hour of poor visibility that passed, the odds that they’d go home with minimal footage increased.

He stole another look at the door, as if he could force it open with his mind, like some kind of weather-beating Jedi.

This afternoon was their last chance, and it was two o’clock already. It gave Bear a nauseous rush to think that he’d put his friends through five months of planning, riding, shooting and travel. One more afternoon of shooting was all he needed. Just one.

Across the table, Stella’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll raise a dollar!”

Bear folded, largely from lack of interest. Duku did too. But Hank raised her two dollars, and Stella threw in two more. After a flurry of betting, Duku, who had dealt, asked Stella how many cards she wanted.

“Four!” she said cheerfully.

Her brother groaned. “Seriously. You are the worst card player ever.”

“Not true,” Stella argued, arranging her freshly renovated hand. “I just don’t mind risk. Sometimes it pays off.”

“Whatever,” her brother argued. “I’ll raise you five bucks.”

Stella slapped a five onto the table without blinking.

“This will be interesting,” Hank said, opening his hand. He had a pair of aces.

She revealed her cards, too. “Tens over nines.”

“You crazy little
brat..
.”

The lodge door opened — finally — and Wickham, the outfit’s senior guide, beckoned. “It’s clear enough to fly. Can you be ready in ten?”

“Yeah!” Stella cried, jumping up from the table, her winnings forgotten. “I’m ready now.”

“Whoa. Not so fast,” Bear said, walking over to the guide. “Let’s hear about the conditions out there.”

Wickham scratched his chin. “The north-facing aspects got loaded down with most of the wet stuff. So if we pick out a sheltered, south-facing slope, we should have the most luck.”

“Wait,” Stella said. “I want to try Devil’s Spine.”

The guide frowned. “That one aint exactly sheltered. Or south-facing, for that matter.”

“But we can go up there and have a look at it, right?”

“No way,” Bear said. In poor conditions, he could not have Stella picking a risky slope.

“What do you mean,
no way?
How can you tell from inside this lodge what we’ll find on that peak?”

Bear took a deep, calming breath before answering. Stella was working a defiant stance, hands on her hips. He was not going to let her do something stupid. “There’s too much grade on that slope.” He tried to sound calm and logical, but suspected that he was failing. “The rain we had will make the surface heavy. You
know
how this works.” Wickham still had not offered an opinion, Bear noticed. “What do you think?” he asked the older man.
Come on, help me out here, buddy
.
 

Wickham frowned again. “You know what’s weird? You guys aren’t the only ones talking about Devil’s Spine today.”

“What?” Stella breathed.

The guide jerked a thumb toward the door. “The guys in the other lodge want to ride it, too.”

“How could that
be?
” Stella yelped. “Since the helicopter was invented, nobody has done that peak. And today there are two teams who want the first descent?”

Bear cleared his throat. “You were talking about it at dinner last night.”

Stella’s eyes widened before they began to burn with fury. “Those
assholes
,” she gasped. “We have to go.
Now
. I’m suiting up. I’ll see you outside.”

“Stella!” Bear called after her. But she did not listen. The chill in his chest thickened as he turned to Hank. “I need you to talk to your sister for me.”

His friend’s eyebrows arched. “No can do.”

“Are you kidding me? Do you not fucking
care
that she’s being an idiot?”

Hank stared up at Bear, measuring him with sharp eyes. “I care a great deal, asshole. But I can’t tell Stella what to do. And for the record, she isn’t being an idiot. Not yet, anyway.”

“You need to talk her down from this.”

Hank shook his head. “That’s not how it works. She has to decide for herself.”

“That is crazy! The risk out there could be off the charts.”

His friend wheeled over to a hook on the wall and liberated his parka. “If it’s sketchy, Stella won’t ride it. She knows more about back-country conditions than either of us.”

“But she wants this so bad.”

Hank bent forward to get his jacket on, navigating the wheelchair’s backrest. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about the risk. But me telling her not to do it? That’s not my place.”

“Hank, this is a bad idea.” He
felt
it in his gut. It wasn’t a twinge. It wasn’t a tickle. It was heavy. Like dread.

“So let her go out there and poke the snow on that peak. If it’s unstable, she’ll feel it.”

Bear didn’t want her anywhere near the place. How could Stella stand there on the peak of her dreams and not give it a try? It was like taking a Golden Retriever to a meadow that may or may not be full of land mines, and throwing a tennis ball.

He would
not
be the person responsible for that.

“If you feel so strongly about it,” Hank said, “why are you telling me and not her?”

Right
.

Bear stomped across the big room to the narrow doorway to the littlest bunkroom, which Stella had commandeered. “You can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

Scare me half to death
. “The pitch on that spine is off the charts. After the rain we got, there’s no more dangerous slope in Alaska.”

Her eyes flashed with irritation. “Possibly. But we don’t know that until I get a look.”

Just picturing her up on top of an avalanche hazard made bile rise in Bear’s throat. “Buddy, no. I can’t let you do this.”

Her gaze challenged him. “Why?” she asked simply.

Because
I love you
. The words were choking him. He needed to get a fucking grip, and handle this professionally. But what did that even mean? What was the right thing to say to the girl you loved, when you’d fucked everything up and didn’t have time to fix it? He could hear the pilots outside right now, snapping the gear basket on the side of the copter closed.

Bear put his hands on Stella’s shoulders. “We have to do this safely, okay?”

Her expression was guarded. “Can you just answer one question for me?”

“Sure.”

“If it was Duku who wanted this descent, would you tell him he couldn’t even have a look at it?”

Bear’s heart contracted.
I’m not in love with Duku
.

Unfortunately, Stella misinterpreted his hesitation. She let out an irritation-filled sigh. “Yeah. I didn’t think so.” She shook off his hands.

“Hey! You didn’t let me answer. Stella,
nobody
dies on my movie, okay?”

Her eyes went flat. “Nobody dies on your movie,” she repeated. “What on earth would the critics say?”

“Stella!” That’s not what he’d meant.

“Bad PR could really crush those ticket sales,” she said, zipping her jacket.

“
Stell
,” he tried again.

But she pushed past him and stomped toward the door. “I’m going to take a look at that peak. And you’re going to let me.”

“If you’re not careful, I swear to God I will…”

“Will what?” she challenged.

I will not get over it
. He didn’t say that, though. “Where is your transponder?” Anyone getting out of the helicopter would wear an avalanche beacon. It was standard procedure. “Show it to me.” He chased her across the room.

Stella spun to face him. “Right here,” she patted her chest. “And I cannot believe you just asked me that. Like I haven’t done this before.”

“Stella…”

“What?” she cried, exasperated with him. “You’re freaking out on me like I’m some stupid little twit who can’t be trusted to make the right decision. Just save it, okay?” She stomped past him, out of the bedroom, then all the way out of the lodge, slamming the door behind her.

Sick with worry, there was nothing Bear could do but don his own jacket, check his cameras, and get into the other chopper.

Twenty-Three

I
T
WAS
IMPOSSIBLE
TO
feel calm while flying over the Chugach mountain range. Stella’s heart fluttered as the helicopter sped over the white vista. The mountain peaks seemed to stretch on forever. The only breaks in the whiteness were the black cliffs poking through the snow. It was all so beautiful and forbidding, set against a leaden sky.

The common wisdom about riding the Alaska back country was to remember: It’s much bigger than you could imagine. And it’s much steeper than you could imagine.
Check and check
. The steeps and cliffs were heart-stopping. The vastness of it was so impressive. Since the view was largely above the treeline, the whole span looked as inhospitable as it was wide.

Breathe
, she told herself.
It’s just like you’ve done before. Only better
.

From the seat behind her, Duku whooped with joy at the scenery. Some riders liked to psych themselves up with loud encouragements, but Stella preferred to take it all in quietly.

Although the banked turns of the helicopter had initially disoriented her, when Devil’s Spine came into view, Stella recognized it right away. The slope was breathtaking. Nature wasn’t always so fond of symmetry, but Devil’s Spine was a perfect wedge of white, framed on either side by deep slices in the rock. If Stella rode it, the video footage would be
amazing
.

“Jesus fuck,” her brother said from the seat beside her. “That’s a
beast
, Stella.” He laughed. “You sure know how to pick ’em.”

Her heart rate kicked up another notch as the pilot brought their altitude up in order to summit the mountain, and the view became even more incredible for a few seconds. Stella’s life seemed to accelerate to two or three times the normal speed, when the pilot set the helicopter down on top of Devil’s Spine.

Stella unbuckled herself from the helicopter’s seat as Wickham hopped out and opened the rear door. She tried to keep her patience as Hank began to set her up with some gear.

“Lean forward,” he said. When she complied, he fitted a tiny video camera into the specially designed foot on her helmet. “It’s running, you don’t have to even think about it,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Hank handed Wickham a two-way radio. Then he turned to Stella, his brown eyes studying her. “Be smart, little sister.”

She felt her throat thicken. “I will.”

“Love you lots,” he said. That was it. No pressure. No fear. And even more amazingly, no jealousy, either. These were mountains that Hank would never ride.

Her throat got even tighter. “Love you, too,” she said. In fact, Stella had never loved him more than she did right here, right now.

He held up a fist, and she bumped it. “Now go perform all your stability checks.”

“I’m on it,” she promised. Without another word, Stella climbed over her brother’s seat, jumped down and — staying low — she moved toward the nose of the helicopter so the pilot could see that she was clear. Wickham had already dragged their gear out of the basket on the side of the helicopter’s body. A few seconds later, Hank’s door shut and the helicopter lifted off.

The rotor noise receded as the chopper flew into the distance, delivering Duku to a south-facing slope. From the helicopter, Hank would try to get some decent aerial footage of Duku’s run. Nobody had said so to her face, but Stella’s insistence on a solo first descent made filming Duku harder, too. Hank wasn’t maneuverable enough to get out of the copter.