Mountain Rescue. Hope White

the only people he’d entertained at his lake house, and whenever he’d bring a woman to his place, Billie would serve a four-course, delicious meal. She’d smile and explain what ingredients were in the dishes she was about to serve, a smile that never seemed to reach her eyes.

      Every time he brought home a date he sensed he was breaking Billie’s heart, even though he’d been clear that he and Billie could never be more than friends.

      Quinn got his duffel out of the trunk and slammed it shut. He’d never meant to hurt her. Subconsciously he’d brought dates to the lake house so Billie would see what a jerk he was and keep her emotional distance.

      Instead she’d always looked at him with those compassionate eyes that saw straight through to his soul.

      “The next three things,” he reminded himself.

      He’d change clothes, contact his P.I. friend, Cody, about digging into Rick Bronson’s accounts and find a quiet spot to do some work close to Billie’s room.

      Because there was no way he’d let anyone hurt her again.

      * * *

      Spending the night in a hospital was dreary to say the least. It was nearly midnight and Billie lay wide awake, alone and disappointed: in Rick for making bad choices, in herself for not admitting the truth sooner about their failed marriage and...

      She was disappointed in Quinn.

      There, she admitted that she’d secretly hoped he would have stayed close to keep an eye on her even though she’d demanded he leave.

      “Talk about mixed messages,” she whispered to herself.

      A young, blond nurse breezed into her room. “Hi, Billie, I’m nurse Beth. Sorry I’m running late for the eleven-o’clock vitals check.”

      “No problem. My dance class doesn’t start for another hour,” she joked.

      Nurse Beth smiled. “How’s the pain on a scale of one to ten?” She took Billie’s pulse.

      “About a four. I’m basically sore all over.”

      “Are your ribs worse than they were this afternoon?”

      “Not really.”

      “Good.” Nurse Beth took Billie’s temperature. “A-okay.”

      A male orderly in his mid-twenties with coal-black hair brought a wheelchair into the room. “Doctor wants another CT scan.”

      “I didn’t see that order,” Nurse Beth said.

      The orderly handed her a piece of paper.

      “Huh, okay.” She looked at Billie. “Let me help you.”

      Nurse Beth helped Billie slide out of bed. A little light-headed, Billie plopped quickly down into the wheelchair.

      “Take good care of her,” Nurse Beth said, hooking the IV bag to the wheelchair.

      “Will do.”

      The orderly pushed her out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. Although she’d been unable to sleep in her hospital bed, she felt drowsy from the meds they’d given her to manage the pain.

      “So, head injury, huh?” the orderly said, pressing the down button on the elevator.

      “And ribs and wrist. I decided to tumble down a mountainside for fun.”

      “Whoa.”

      “So, what’s your name?” she asked.

      “Dylan.”

      “I’m Billie.”

      “Nice name.”

      “Thanks.”

      He wheeled her into the elevator and the doors closed.

      “Needless to say, I won’t be hiking for a while,” she said.

      “I used to love to hike.”

      “Used to?”

      “No time. I work at the hospital, plus go to community college and help out with the family business.”

      “Which is...?”

      “Restaurant.”

      “What kind?”

      The elevator doors opened to the imaging department.

      “It’s called Healthy Eats. Sustainable living, organic ingredients, stuff like that.”

      “Oh, I heard about that opening up. Interesting concept.”

      “Yeah, Mom had some health issues a few years ago so she and Dad changed our entire menu to be more health oriented.”

      “So no cheeseburgers, then?”

      “Sure, but we use grass-fed beef,” he said.

      He wheeled her into the imaging room for the CT scan and looked around. “Huh, the tech was supposed to be waiting for us. You okay here for a second? I’ll go find him.”

      “Sure.”

      He locked the wheels and went in search of the technician. She studied the CT machine, which looked like a large doughnut. That thought made her tummy grumble and she realized she hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast.

      “Hey!” a male voice shouted.

      A crash echoed in the hallway.

      She heard grunting and a squeak, like rubber soles kicking against vinyl flooring.

      The hair bristled at the back of her neck.

      It couldn’t be what it sounded like. No, low blood sugar was sending her imagination into overdrive. Dylan would be back shortly with the tech and everything would be fine.

      Her gaze darted to the wall phone. If she’d learned anything from being married to Rick, it was to listen to her gut.

      Billie grabbed her IV bag off the hook and shuffled to the wall, grabbed the phone—

      A pop resounded from the hallway, then silence. She frantically pressed buttons, trying to focus, trying to press the right button to call security, the operator, someone who could help her.

      Suddenly the lights went out, plunging her into complete darkness.

THREE

      Quinn had done a pretty good job of maintaining his distance while keeping an eye on Billie’s hospital room. Luckily he’d been able to convince the nurse to let him stay close by, explaining that he was worried about Billie’s safety.

      Which is why he didn’t like having to go outside to take a business call. But there was a crisis at Decker’s Resort and he had to find a solution before guests were inconvenienced. Being a closet computer genius, Quinn talked the manager through a couple of troubleshooting protocols and they got the system up and running again.

      Although he’d done his best to keep the call brief, it had taken half an hour to resolve the issue. As he headed into the hospital, he decided to take a chance and peek into Billie’s room for peace of mind. She’d surely be asleep by now so it would be safe to check in on her without being caught. Maybe that would ease the knot in his chest.

      He wandered down the hall, stepped into her doorway and froze. The bed was empty. Her sheet and light blanket were crumpled into a ball at the foot of her bed.

      Fighting the panic gnawing at his gut, Quinn strode to the nurses’ station.

      “I still think it’s a mistake,” a middle-age nurse said to a young blond nurse.

      The blond nurse handed a piece of paper to her counterpart. “Maybe scheduling meant 11:45 a.m. not p.m.”

      “Excuse me,” Quinn