was about testing out a new trick. And moving closer to achieving his goal of medaling in the upcoming games. For Cody.
Nick’s heart twisted in his chest.
He concentrated his energy into the moment, blocking out the noises of the spectators and the grief that stabbed at him with each breath. Blocking out the fact that he was back home in the place where his dreams of gold had been born. Blocking out the knowledge that his parents wouldn’t be among the audience watching the competition. They still blamed him for Cody’s death.
His jaw clenched. He blamed himself.
“Go!”
Heart pumping with adrenaline, Nick pushed off. Pointing his skis down the inrun slope, he picked up speed. He needed to reach thirty miles per hour for optimum liftoff. He approached the kicker. He had to hit it just right to get the height required to perform the quad back, double twist. Wind whipped over his helmet, whistling through the facemask. Keeping his gaze focused upward, he lifted his arms overhead to elongate his body, increasing his rotational inertia by moving more of his weight away from his hips and allowing for more flipping power.
The approach was perfect.
Wait. Something didn’t feel right. His left boot slipped slightly against the toehold.
Someone had messed with his ski and loosened the binding. Sabotage!
His stomach clenched with anticipation and dread. He forced himself to remain calm. He could pull this off.
He hit the kicker and pushed off, soaring high into the air. Momentum carried him up and backward. The blur of stars in the clear night sky appeared like a comet’s trail. He arched and gyrated his hips in a hula type move, beginning his first back twist.
His left ski detached from his boot, hitting his arm. Pain ricocheted through the bone. Shock seized his lungs.
The sensation of flying that normally brought him joy sent a shaft of terror shredding through him.
A ripple of panic snatched his breath.
“Help me, God!”
Forget about keeping his body in alignment for the judges. He focused his gaze on the ground, estimating the distance. This wasn’t the first time a trick had gone wrong.
He prayed it wouldn’t be his last trick ever.
He had to land this in one piece. An injury could knock him out of the competition. He didn’t want to wait another four years for the opportunity to go for gold!
He raised his arms overhead to slow his momentum. Pain screamed down his left side from the point of impact with the ski. He elongated his frame, keeping his knees soft and braced himself for the ground.
He hit the landing track with a jarring thud. For a heartbeat, he thought he’d maintain his upright position on the one ski. Then he tumbled, head over end, landing with bruising force against the track and sliding rapidly toward the barrier of the outrun. He curled to protect himself and hit the barrier like a ball bouncing off pavement.
The air left his lungs in a gush and stars danced before his eyes.
He prayed his dreams of gold weren’t dead like his brother.
* * *
Shrieks of horror splintered the air. Nick’s unattached ski flew into the bright orange safety net. He lay in a heap, butted up against the outrun barrier. The cries of the spectators echoed through Julie, heightening her own shock. Reality TV in the flesh.
“Lord, please don’t let him be dead.”
She did not want to gain ratings by streaming live the death of one of Oregon’s—and the country’s—favorite skiers. What would this accident to do his chances of competing in February? Would an injury force him to wait four more years or take him out of the running for gold forever by ending not only his career but also his life?
Sympathy and dread knotted her stomach.
Uniformed people and other skiers rushed to Nick’s side.
Bob’s hand gripped Julie’s elbow. “Come on, get in there.”
She blinked, letting his words sink in. Right. She had a job to do. Shaking off the shock, she pushed her way through the crowd. “Excuse me. Let us through.”
She reached the barrier and flashed her press badge to the man guarding the makeshift gate. He pulled aside the wire mesh so she and Bob could move closer to where Nick lay on the ground. Even though they weren’t on the mountain, two Mt. Bachelor ski patrols wearing black snowsuits with bright white crosses on the shoulders attended to Nick. One checked Nick’s vitals and the other positioned a toboggan so they could lift him onto the sled.
Julie inched closer but was halted by a large muscled man in a black ski suit. “Stay back, ma’am.”
As she peered around the man, dread curled in her belly. She hated seeing anyone hurt, let alone someone she knew.
Nick moaned and rolled onto his back.
Julie breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Whoa! Slow down,” one of the ski patrol said.
“What happened?” Nick asked, coming up on his elbows.
“You took a nasty spill,” Julie answered. The pressure in her chest eased. He hadn’t broken his neck like his brother. Though she hadn’t witnessed Cody’s fatal accident, the stories of the event painted a harrowing tale.
Nick reached up and pulled his goggles down past his chin so they hung around his neck. “Do I know you?”
Her heart did a little leap. She smiled but was prevented from answering when the ski patrol stepped between them. “Sir, we’re going to lift you onto the toboggan and take you to the clinic tent while we wait for an ambulance.”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Nick!” A tall man wearing a long wool coat over a double-breasted suit and wing tips shoved his way through the crowd. “Are you hurt? Oh, man, tell me you’re not hurt!”
“No, I’m good,” Nick said and sat up.
“Sir, please, let’s get you onto the toboggan,” the ski patrol insisted.
Waving off the guy, Nick said, “No way. I can go on my own two feet.” He rolled to all fours and then rose.
A cheer erupted from the crowd.
Nick wobbled. Julie reached out to steady him, along with everyone else. “Stubborn man,” she muttered.
He grinned at her. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“You need to be checked out ASAP!” the well-dressed man exclaimed, looking a little green. “You can’t have an injury this close to the games.”
“I’m fine. Relax,” Nick insisted.
“I
