graced the back of Nick’s ski suit, distinguishing him from the other two. The muscled man in black fell in step behind them.
“Come on, dude,” the guy on the right said. “Let’s get you to the doctor.”
They half carried him toward the Mt. Bachelor medical clinic tent set up nearby.
Julie blinked and forced herself to remember why she was there. She turned to face Bob and stared into the camera. “Nick Walsh, ladies and gentlemen. Undoubtedly one of the best aerial freestyle skiers in the country. Not many people could have dropped fifty feet in the air and walked away to ski again.”
She prayed that last bit was true. The country was counting on him doing the U.S. proud by medaling.
“Come on,” she said to Bob and followed Nick toward the urgent-care tent.
“Nick!” a woman in the crowd called out. “Nick, are you okay? It’s me, Kitty.”
Nick didn’t acknowledge the female’s cry.
Julie wasn’t sure which of the numerous women pressing up against the barrier had called out. A girlfriend?
“Get a shot of the crowd,” she instructed Bob.
As soon as he finished panning the crowd, she hurried around the corner of the urgent-care tent. She hustled so she was in front of Nick and his entourage.
Nick stopped, forcing his companions to do the same. “Jules, is that you?”
Surprise, closely followed by pleasure, rushed through her, heating her cheeks. “Hey, Nick.” She gave herself a mental shake. Do your job! She thrust the microphone toward him. “Do you know what went wrong?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “That wasn’t meant to be a monoskiing trick.”
“Any idea why your ski came off?”
He tried to sidestep by her, his expression darkening. “I have ideas.”
Frustrated that he wouldn’t share, she moved into his path. “Will you be doing a second run?”
“No, I won’t tonight.” He zigged to go around her, taking his buddies with him.
Disappointed he wasn’t giving her more, she zagged.
His blue eyes flashed with annoyance, but his smile stayed in place.
“We’re glad you weren’t hurt,” she stated into the microphone.
“Me, too.” He tried again to move past her.
Knowing she’d have his attention during the interview and she wouldn’t be so easily dismissed, she acquiesced and stepped back. “I’m looking forward to interviewing you later.”
His smile faltered. “No interviews.”
“Nick Walsh. What a kidder you are!” she quipped into the microphone, trying to salvage the live shot and keep it on a positive tone.
Staring at his retreating back, Julie pressed her lips together. The interview had been arranged. She’d been assured Nick would cooperate. Obviously he hadn’t been informed yet.
Gathering her composure, she plastered on a smile and turned back to the camera. “Exciting turn of events tonight at the Festival of Snow. But thankfully Nick Walsh is unharmed. I will be interviewing him later for a special segment of Northwest Edition. Stay tuned.”
Julie made a cut motion with her hand, indicating for Bob to cut the feed, then ducked through the tent flaps. Inside the clinic tent, welcome warmth seeped through her, making her limbs tingle. There were several screens lined up to cordon off makeshift exam rooms.
A woman seated behind a table glanced up. “Can I help you?”
“Nick Walsh.”
“Excuse us!” An elderly man elbowed his way past Julie. “My wife is having trouble breathing.”
The woman jumped up and came around the table to help the man with the pale older woman. “Let’s get you settled over here.”
She glanced distractedly at Julie and pointed toward the farthest screen.
“Your husband’s behind curtain number three.”
Julie drew back. “Oh, I’m—”
The woman turned her back, cutting Julie off as she led the older couple toward an exam table.
Julie hesitated for a moment, not comfortable letting the woman believe she was Nick’s wife, but seeing no opportunity to correct her, she walked away in search of Nick.
Voices raised in argument directed the way. She stopped just inside the screen barrier.
“I didn’t pass out,” Nick said, his voice raspy with irritation. He’d removed his goggles and helmet and sat on an exam table. Though he looked older than the last time she’d seen him in person, he was still handsome, even when pale and grouchy. “I had the wind knocked from me, that’s all.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the well-dressed man insisted. “You’re going to the local hospital for a head scan. The doctor agrees. He’s arranging it now.”
“I don’t need the hospital!”
“We already know he’s not right in the head,” said one of the skiers who’d helped him from the arena. He had blond hair badly in need of a trim and a scraggly beard that was so popular with guys under thirty.
“The scan will only prove it,” the other skier, who had light brown hair and brown eyes, joked.
“What are you two still doing in here?” the well-dressed man snapped. “Get out there and do your jumps. I can’t have all three of you out of the competition!”
Slipping past Julie with curious glances, the two skiers beat a hasty retreat.
Nick shrugged out of the top layer of his ski suit. A dark purple bruise covered his left arm starting below his elbow, spreading up his biceps and disappearing beneath his Dri-FIT T-shirt. Julie gasped at sight of his injury.
The big man in black, who had his back to her, swiveled and blocked her path.
Nick’s eyes widened. “No, it’s okay. Let Jules through.” Then a slow smile curved his mouth. “I never turn away a beautiful woman. Especially one in head-to-toe pink.”
Heat crept into her cheeks, but she refused to respond to his comment.
The well-dressed man moved closer to inspect Nick’s bruised skin. “Is your arm broken? Please tell me it’s not broken. You can’t compete with a broken arm!”
“No, it’s not broken,” Nick said, bending his arm on a wince. His gaze zeroed on his manager. “Gordon, you need to find the ski—” Nick flicked a quick glance at Julie. He seemed to hesitate a moment before saying, “Check the binding.”
“Is
