Amelia’s wipeout hadn’t been nearly as spectacular as Luke’s, but it had taken her further downhill from him. By the time she’d collected her poles and skis, she’d heard him shout her name from the tree he’d disappeared under. He’d lost his nifty radio headset, too. She hoped they weren’t too expensive to replace, since she had no idea if she had any money.

“Down here!” she called. “You all right?”

“Fine. You stay there. I’ll come to you.”

She was happy to stay put. The snow came up around her waist. She’d almost had to swim through it to get her stuff gathered and was now clinging to the side of a boulder like the tide might sweep her away. She was pretty sure she couldn’t swim uphill but would have tried if he’d needed her.

The chopper had dropped out of sight again, but even as the thought formed in her head, she saw it rise above the tree line and start in their direction.

“Luke!”

“I hear it. Can you get under cover?”

She was only a few feet away from cover, but it was all deep-snow feet.

“Yeah!” No time to get her skis on, but maybe…

She maneuvered her skis around until they were parallel with the mountain and facing the trees. The chop-chop-chop sounded closer. Panic crawled through her head, but it seemed to sharpen her thinking. She worked her body onto the skis, turning them into a modified surfboard. A quick look over her shoulder. The chopper grew larger in the sky. They’d soon be close enough to see her. She grabbed her poles, tucked them under one arm, then dug her hands into the snow and slid forward. The chopper made a jog away from her, then swung back, flying directly toward her. She dug into the snow again and slid under the branches of a huge pine tree. As the branches brushed against her face, brief painful flashes of memory sparked inside her head.

Branches slapped at her, clawed at her as she tried to grab them…but she kept falling…

“Amelia!” Luke’s call pulled her back to the present. “Are you hidden? They’re almost here!”

“Yeah!” The roar of the chopper drowned out anything else she might have said. Through the deep green of the branches, she watched the chopper sweep in, make a wide turn, and come back, hovering like some huge ugly bug. She buried her face in the snow, tried to burrow her body in, too. Cold closed around her until it was all she could feel. It crept inside and wrapped around her heart, slowing it to a steady thud. Ice wrapped around her from the inside out and the outside in, freezing her in place.

The chopper hovered above, as if it could feel her fear. Out of the fog in her head, it reached for her. Or maybe it was hands that reached for her. Their touch hurt, the pain stabbing out from her eyes. A roar from the chopper popped her eyes open. The dark shadow it cast against the white of the snow moved persistently in her direction, kicking the snow into a mini-blizzard, preventing her from seeing who was in the chopper.

They were going to find her.

Amelia covered her ears, burrowing into the snow. Disjointed pictures in her head, like incomplete snapshots…

Shouts…

Shots…

Falling…

“Amelia?” Luke touched her shoulder, scattering the fragments of memory like waking from a dream. “They’ve moved off. I don't think they know what they are looking for. Thought sure they'd see our tracks.”

She lifted her face from the snow, inhaling great gulps of air. If felt like she’d surfaced from someplace deep and dark. She ripped off her goggles, feeling a sudden claustrophobia and blinked in the bright light.

“Are you all right?” He’d had to slide under the tree on his stomach to reach her, his concerned face close to hers. He smelled good, like aftershave and pine and fresh air.

“I should be asking you that. That was a pretty spectacular landing,” she said, trying for a light tone. Did pretty good at keeping it, too, except for those two little quavers when she lost control of her voice.

“I’ve had better.” He grinned at her and touched the lump swelling on his right temple. “A couple more and we’ll match.”

An indescribable feeling of warm delight filled her up, starting from her middle and moving out until even the tips of her fingers tingled. It erased the chill that had invaded her and freed her from her frozen thrall.

If this is some kind of crush, she thought, I like it. Hardly aware of what she was doing but knowing she needed to do it, she leaned toward him. Her free hand curled around the sturdy column of his neck and she kissed him. That minatory voice in the fog gave a shocked squawk, but it couldn’t compete with the pure pleasure of her mouth against Luke’s.

He tasted as good as he smelled, though his mouth was very cold. It warmed up fast. Real fast. Despite her lack of memory for any comparison, she was, nevertheless, convinced it was the best kiss she’d ever participated in.

They both eased back at the same time, and Amelia felt the world rush into the warm space they’d created between them. The voice expressed shock at her unladylike behavior, but what did that matter when his brown eyes were close enough for her to see gold flecks in the brown? He smiled and his gloved hand trembled just a bit as he reached out and tucked a strand of her hair back into her hood.

“Who are you, Amelia?” he asked, his voice husky.

She rolled onto her back, staring up through the branches at the sky. It was so deeply blue, the branches so green, her chest felt tight with pleasure. Did she often look at the sky or was she seeing it for the first time? She was scared, no question about that, but despite it, she felt a wonderful sense of anticipation—as if she’d only been set loose in a world full of possibilities. That minatory voice in the fog was fading more and more with each passing moment. She felt alive, all her nerve endings singing like they’d just woke up from a long sleep. What defined a person? What gave them their identity? Who they were or who they’d been?

“What are you thinking?” Luke asked.

Amelia looked at him, found his eyes kind and curious. “That I’m happy to be alive. That I liked kissing you.” He looked worried, making the sky slightly less blue. “Is there someone else?”

He shook his head. “Not since my wife died. It’s just that—”

“What?”

“You’re so young.”

“We don’t know how old I am,” she pointed out. “I could just be well preserved.”

He chuckled, but his eyes were still serious. “What if you’re committed to someone?”

Amelia looked away from him. “It had occurred to me.”

“And?”

She shrugged. She didn’t know how to explain to him that all the feelings she could remember were about trying to get away from, not back to whatever her life had been. If she were committed to someone, wouldn’t some part of her know it?

“The truth is, Amelia, you don’t know who you are or what you want. And I’m not a man who can take things lightly.”

Amelia looked at him then. “Are you telling me that you’re a man who wants to commit?” Even with no memory, she knew that was rare.

His grin was wry. “Something like that.” He sat up with a slight groan. “We’d better come up with a plan before our friends in the chopper come back.”

Amelia watched him gather their gear together, her thoughts spinning inexorably to one inescapable conclusion—Luke Kirby was a very nice guy. The fates had been kind to drop her in his lap. She must remember to thank them.