Her Christmas Wish. Cindi Myers

      “No, my brothers have a couple we can use. Would you and Hagan like to go snowmobiling this weekend? We could ask Max and Casey and some other folks—make a party of it.”

      “Okay.” Maddie looked from one man to the other. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more behind this than the desire to take advantage of the fresh snow?”

      “Eric doesn’t care about the rest of us,” Marty said. “We’re just giving him an excuse to romance Alina Allinova.”

      “Since when do you need all of us to do that?” Maddie asked.

      “It’s a long story.”

      “I’ve got time.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the ambulance.

      “Just let me know if you’re free to go snowmobiling with us this weekend.”

      “I wouldn’t miss it,” she said. “I’m anxious to meet a woman who has you calling in reinforcements.”

      

      ALINA HAD ENROLLED in technical college with the intention of training to be an X ray technician. A friend had explained this was the perfect career, offering high pay and flexible hours.

      But the introductory course she needed had been full, and the student counselor had convinced her to try a respiratory therapist course instead. After one evening clinic at the hospital, watching her instructor assist a little girl with asthma and an elderly man with emphysema, Alina was hooked. Taking pictures and developing film seemed boring in comparison to saving lives by helping people to breathe.

      Already on this Tuesday evening she’d treated an accident victim with a collapsed lung, done a blood gas analysis on another patient and administered breathing treatments to three patients, including Mr. Herrerra, an elderly man with chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder. “Your oxygen levels are much better today,” she said, removing the pulse oxymeter from Mr. Herrera’s finger. “If you keep improving this way, you’ll be going home in no time.”

      “I wish the home health aide that comes to my house was as pretty as you are,” he said.

      “I bet you say that to all the women.” She stowed the pulse oxymeter and packed up the nebulizer. “You have a good night, and a safe trip home if I don’t see you tomorrow.”

      She wheeled the cart with her supplies back into the corridor to the nurses’ station, where she could record her activities and findings in Mr. Herrerra’s chart. A small window nearby looked out onto the hospital parking lot and a lacy curtain of snowflakes illuminated by the floodlights.

      She thought she’d known winter before coming to Colorado. After all, Croatia had mountains and plenty of snow. But she’d never seen a winter like her first in Gunnison. Snow piled higher than the roofs and the turning lanes of the streets filled with great drifts pushed there by the plows. Temperatures hovered near zero for weeks at a time, while the sun glared off everything, bright but giving little warmth.

      Despite the chill, people embraced the weather, devoting themselves to every kind of activity involving snow, from skiing and sledding to ice sculpture competitions and snowshoe races.

      “Mr. Herrerra says he’s in love.” Marissa stood at Alina’s elbow. Dressed in raspberry-pink scrubs, a stethoscope draped around her neck, she was the picture of the efficient nurse.

      “With you?” Alina asked.

      “A little bit with me. Mostly with you. You have another conquest.”

      “A seventy-seven-year-old boyfriend. I’m so flattered.”

      “Speaking of boyfriends, have you seen Eric lately?”

      “No.” She’d thought of him often since Sunday; the sight of dark hair and the red shirts of the Gunnison Valley EMS was enough to make her heart race and her head turn.

      “You could always call him,” Marissa said.

      “No, I could not.”

      “Of course you could.”

      “But I don’t want to.” If he was really as interested as Marissa had said, he would have called her.

      “But you could.”

      “Enough, Marissa. I have work to do.”

      “Did you hear Amy Fremont is leaving after the first of the year?”

      “Really?” Amy was head of the respiratory therapy department at Gunnison Valley Hospital.

      “Her husband’s retiring and they’re building a house near Lake Powell.”

      “How do you know these things?” Alina asked.

      Marissa shrugged. “I hear stuff. For instance, I know Eric Sepulveda has never been involved with anyone.”

      Eric again. “Never? Not even a high school crush?”

      “I mean, seriously involved. No engagements. Never lived with anyone. He’s dated a lot, but never any one woman for very long.”

      “That’s not so unusual.” She’d never been engaged or involved with anyone, either. Not for lack of trying—she’d dated a number of men, but had never fallen in love with any of them.

      “He’s the youngest in his family and the only one who isn’t married.”

      “I’m the only one in my family who isn’t married,” Alina said. “And you’re not married, either.”

      “I’m the oldest in my family. You’re the youngest. And so is Eric. See—you have lots in common.” Marissa sounded positively gleeful.

      “Why are you so interested in me and Eric?” Alina asked. “I’ve been here eight months and you haven’t cared who I dated or didn’t date.”

      “I have a good feeling about you two,” Marissa said. “And didn’t you know I’m a hopeless romantic?”

      “Hopeless is right.”

      “Hi. Are you Alina Allinova?”

      Alina started, and saw a woman with brown curly hair moving down the corridor toward her. The newcomer wore the red shirt and dark pants of the Emergency Medical Service. “Y-yes. I’m Alina,” she stammered.

      “I’m Maddie Ansdar.” The woman offered her hand. “I just transported a patient here, and I’ve heard so much about you I wanted to meet you.”

      “Heard about her from whom?” Marissa asked.

      “Oh, different people.” Maddie sketched a vague gesture in the air. “I understand you’re from Croatia. I skied there several times—at Bjelolasica.”

      Alina’s eyes widened. Most people she’d met had never heard of Bjelolasica, much less knew how to pronounce it. “My family went there on vacations several times when I was younger,” she said. In college, groups of friends had often rented chalets for the weekend, skiing all day and partying into the night. Those days felt very long ago.

      “I didn’t get to see much of the country other than the slopes,” Maddie said. “But what I saw was beautiful.”

      “We never saw many Americans there,” Alina said. “Most of them prefer to travel to the Alps in France or Italy.”

      “I was on the U.S. Olympic team and competed in some World Cup races there,” Maddie said. “At least I did until I injured my leg.”

      “And now you’re in Gunnison. Are you from here?”

      Maddie shook her head. “I live in Crested Butte. I worked for the ski patrol for a while and met my husband and decided to stay.”

      “You must know Eric and Marty,” Marissa said.

      “I do.” Maddie looked at Alina expectantly.

      Alina