Sixteen

Watching the truck loaded with pipeline inching up the slope should fill Nora with triumph. Three months ago, she feared she’d end up selling the ski lift on eBay and peddling used rental skis on the street corner.

Back then, Scott was still alive and planning to leave her. The 9th District court was weighing its decision on snow making. Abigail was shopping in New York and though Nora fretted about losing Kachina Ski, she hadn’t yet learned real fear.

A ski area in Arizona sounded crazy. But Kachina Ski opened in 1935 and was one of the oldest ski slopes in the country. Sure, the drive to a desert took only an hour, but this mountain rose to nearly 13,000 feet. The runs didn’t rival Colorado or Utah resorts, but Kachina Ski held its own and even managed to be profitable. That is, until Nora took over, which happened to coincide with a five-year-long—and counting—drought.

But this pipeline proved she could conquer the drought, and with Barrett’s help, she’d have Abigail shopping for shoes in another time zone in no time. By Christmastime this mountain would be covered in snow, whether Mother Nature felt up to the task or not.

Why did it make her stomach ache to think of it?

The sun glared overhead, heating the pines and releasing their pungent perfume over a mountainside covered in June’s wildflowers. Enormous black ravens cawed and glided from treetops and over the wide swathe of grass-covered ski run. The day sparkled brilliantly on her mountain, but it might as well have been sleeting.

Nora plodded up the slope, following the truck with its load of pipe rolled like giant spools of fire hose. Its tires tore the ground like the Jolly Green Giant’s golf divots.

A quiet voice filtered through the truck’s struggle. “Miss.”

The slip of a man, the kachina salesmen from the courthouse, stood behind her. His approached must have been masked by the roar of the truck. He stood without moving, his black eyes focused on her face.

If he breathed, Nora couldn’t see the movement. Though nothing about him was threatening, Nora’s pulse quickened. Maybe he’d brought Alex with him. “You. What do you want?”

His eyes shifted slowly to the truck, which stopped at a level place to unload the hose. The sorrow on his face was clear and heart wrenching.

The rolls of hose stacked on the flatbed would be unrolled and laid on the ground alongside the run. The pump would shoot water and air through the hose to the sprayers. Snow, directly from the abundant aquifer. God, it was good to be an American.

It should have been a triumphant day on her mountain—well, her sliver of it, anyway. I will not feel guilty, damn it. This guy needed to go away.

He brought his gaze back to her. “Will you … ?” He spoke in clipped words, as if English wasn’t natural for him. He pointed to the hose.

He didn’t look like the placard-bearing, rally-calling, hysterical religious fanatics that fought her for years. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t turn on her any minute. “It’s for snow making, yes.”

He nodded so slowly he barely moved. Those eyes carried deep sadness.

Nope. I am not feeling bad for bringing water to the mountain. Nora turned away from him and hiked to the truck. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d disappear like he did at the courthouse. She waved to the driver when he climbed from the cab. “We want to stack the rolls right here.”

He pulled a clipboard from the cab. “I gotta do the paperwork.”

Nora walked next to the rumbling truck, ignoring the diesel fumes. She put a hand on the sun-heated hose, the veins that would pump the blood to keep Kachina Ski alive.

“Miss.”

Nora jumped. That gentle voice raised the hairs on her neck. She hated it, but it almost felt like he belonged here more than she did.

He pulled a ratty bag from his back. “I brought you my kachinas.”

The crude doll with the blue mask broken and floating in the gutter flashed in her mind. “No thanks. I lost the last one.”

While his hand rummaged in the bag, he stared into her face.

The two top rolls shifted. Nora skittered away from the truck.

They settled. The driver must be ready to unload. “Excuse me,” Nora said to the little man. She strode away to talk to the driver.

Holding his bag in front of him, the man stared up at the hose.

Something moved on top of the truck.

The top two rolls of hose shifted again and the straps holding the stack upright slipped to the ground. Lightning flashed inside Nora as she realized the hose was no longer strapped to the truck. If the little man didn’t move now, the hose could fall and flatten him.

The unstable roll slipped from the top.

Why didn’t the little man react?

The whole pile started to topple. Still the Native American man stood motionless.

The top of the load rolled, followed by the others. Nora’s body took over, legs pumping up the slope, perhaps her voice shouting, hands in front of her.

The man stayed rooted to the mountain.

Nora smashed into him like a defensive tackle, pushing both of them out of the way of the crashing hose. She landed on top of his small frame. The ground vibrated with the impact of the nearby falling freight.

Still pulsing with adrenaline, Nora dug her feet into the dirt and tried to scoot them farther away.

Too late. A heavy weight crushed her ankle, sending hot waves of pain shooting up her leg and spine. Several more hits felt like someone with a sledgehammer pounding her shin.

And then silence. Not even a raven cawed.

Nora opened her eyes and pulled her face from the ground. She still lay on top of the little man and tried to move but the hose pinned her calves. She managed to shift enough for him to wiggle out. Throbbing pain made everything below her waist ignite in flames.

Behind her, the truck bed sat empty except for two rolls of hose. The remainder of the load spread across the slope, with one roll on her legs.

“Nora!” Cole appeared next to her head. He reached for her hand, his eyes searching her face. “Are you okay?”

Her throat tightened and she fought panic. He always showed up just as something awful happened, and that couldn’t be a coincidence. Somehow Cole caused this accident in an effort to shut her up about the bribery. She struggled with the desire to get away from him.

Cole shouted at the driver. “Help me get this off her!”

The overweight driver scurried around Nora’s head and grunted. The weight on her legs lightened and Nora held her breath against the throbbing. It hurt like hell but she could move her legs. Celebrate life’s little victories.

Cole knelt beside her. “Can you stand up?”

She struggled for strength but her voice sounded weak. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you thinking jumping under the hose?”

“That man … ” Yee-ow! No way could Nora stand. “Ankle,” she said between clenched teeth.

Cole bent over to examine the foot she raised. His lean fingers tested the purpling flesh.

The raw agony nearly made Nora pee. “Stop!”

“Sorry.”

She gently rotated the ankle in question slowly, the pain galloping all the way up her leg.

“It’s sprained. I can wrap it,” Cole said.

“Just leave me alone!”

“Hey, buddy.” The driver stood next to the hose. “What do you want me to do?”

Cole shrugged. “Finish unloading the truck and stack it.”

The driver shot Nora an annoyed look. “I was told there would be help.”

Maybe the kachina man could use a few bucks. “What about that guy?”

Both men gave her a puzzled look.

She scanned the slope, suddenly worried he’d been injured. “Where did he go?”

Cole followed her gaze. “Who?”

“That Native American guy I was talking to.”

“Before the hose fell? I didn’t see anyone,” Cole said.

Nora looked at the driver. “You saw him. I tried to shove him out of the way of the falling hose.”

The driver shrugged. “I was doing the paperwork.”

The aching in her ankle overrode everything else. “Load it, leave it. I don’t care.”

No doubt drawn by the roar of tumbling hoses, Abigail appeared out of nowhere, just as she used to whenever Nora was in some kind of mischief. “What is going on? Oh! My baby!”

Cole put Nora’s arm around his shoulder. “Stack it. You’ve got a dolly on your truck.”

Nora shrugged, trying to back away from Cole. But she couldn’t stand on her own.

“I gotta get back on the road, man,” the driver said.

The little guy had been right here. Where could he have gone? Was he working for Cole and Barrett too?

The expression Abigail turned on the trucker would make a werewolf whimper. “If you looked before you unstrapped the load, you would have seen my daughter and not released the strap. I’m sure your supervisor won’t like that report.”

The driver jutted his head. “Hey lady, I didn’t unstrap the hose. I was in the cab.”

Abigail pulled a cell phone from her pocket and looked at the phone number of the company advertised on the side of the truck. “And why do you suppose the hose suddenly let loose?”

Pain was making Nora sweat now. The sun beat on her head as well, giving her maybe two minutes before her hair burst into flames. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. Let’s just move.”

Controlled anger tightened Abigail’s voice. “You might have been killed.” She glared at the driver. “Your negligence caused bodily harm, so be helpful or you could be in worse trouble.”

Nora felt sorry for the driver. He probably had nothing to do with the accident. Cole, the man who held her upright, was Nora’s main suspect.

The driver puffed up his shoulders. “I ain’t in any trouble, lady. I checked out at the yard. You don’t have nothin’ on me.”

Nora’s head and ankle throbbed in rhythm. She wanted off the slope. “Buddy, lawsuit is her middle name.”

The driver’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Whatever.”

Cole helped Nora take a step and spoke to the driver over his shoulder. “I’ll come back and help.”

In the presence of witnesses, Cole might as well help her to the lodge. He couldn’t do anything to her now, could he?

The slope opened wide before them with the lodge looking like it sat in another country. Each step they took wiggled her injured ankle and sent waves of hot lava shooting through her. Another day in paradise.

They hadn’t gone far when the driver called out, his tone smug. “Hey, lady. Take a look at this.”

The driver held one piece of strap and tugged the end from under a roll of hose. He held up both pieces.

Abigail marched to him and snatched one away. After inspecting, she dropped it and stomped toward Nora and Cole.

“I need to call the police.” She marched closer. “This will convince Officer Gary that your life is in danger and you didn’t kill Scott for the life insurance.”

Ankle, head, now her nerves were on fire. “What do you mean convince him I didn’t kill Scott?”

Abigail waved her hand at the annoyance of it all. “Gary called on your cell and I answered. He wanted to know about Scott’s life insurance so I found it. Your files are a mess.”

What about Barrett’s expensive lawyer? Nora was pretty sure he wouldn’t want Abigail handing over anything to the cops. Nora gritted her teeth at the pain in her ankle. “I don’t know who killed Scott, but I’ve got a good idea who’s behind this accident.” She glared at Cole.

The man acted as if he didn’t know what she meant. “Use that cell phone in your pocket,” he said to Abigail.

“Battery’s dead. It’s this high altitude. Nothing holds a charge for long.”

Cole laughed. “Good thing Mr. Truck Driver didn’t know that.”

Nora planted her good foot. “What is going on?”

Abigail squinted in rage. “Someone sliced the straps.”

“Cole sliced the straps, Mother.”

He froze under the arm that was held over his shoulders for support.

Abigail laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She marched ahead then turned around. “Let’s go. Nora can’t stand out here in the sunshine on that bad ankle.”