Craving Her Ex-Army Doc. Amy Ruttan

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Craving Her Ex-Army Doc - Amy Ruttan


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stare was icy cold and she put her hands on those curvy hips. Hips he’d thought about touching himself. “Excuse me?”

      Luke groaned. He wasn’t going to get in an argument with her. “You need snow pants. If you fall out there and your pants get wet there’s no way we’re turning around so you can change. I’m here to teach you survival skills. If you were out there on your own, there would be no option to change. You’d freeze to death.”

      Sarah still looked as if she were going to skewer him alive. “Fine. I’ll find some snow pants, but, really, stereotyping me, that was so not cool.”

      “If the shoe fits.”

      She cocked her eyebrows and smirked. “Oh, really? Didn’t we have this argument in the summer? I seem to recall bits and pieces of it …”

      He groaned. “Fine. You’re right. I did accuse you of stereotyping me. I apologize, but, really, put on some snow pants before we lose the light.”

      “Fine and, for your information, not all of us ‘rich girls’ ski. Some of us prefer yachts and sailing.” She winked and then disappeared into her office again.

      Luke rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh to himself. He still admired her spunk.

      When she came out of her office again, she was properly attired.

      “Good, now let’s get down to the ski shack and get geared up. I’m going to take you up the first of the four main trails at this resort.”

      Sarah fell into step behind him; the only sound was the swishing of the nylon fabric rubbing together as they walked down the hall and outside. Luke tried not to laugh, because just under that sound was some muttering. And maybe some bad words, but he couldn’t quite tell.

      “I feel like a marshmallow,” she mumbled. “Do I look like one?”

      “Yes. You do, but it will keep you warm.” He helped open the door to outside. “Ms. Marshmallow.”

      With a huff Sarah pushed past him out into the snow. “You’re a bit of a jerk. Has anyone ever told you that?”

      “Several people.”

      There was a twinkle to her eye and she smiled slightly. “Good.”

      “Well, now that’s all settled. Let’s get the skis on and head out.” He led the way to the ski shack, which was closed up. It would open on more regular hours when the resort had its official grand opening on Valentine’s Day. Right now, Luke had full run of it and of all the equipment.

      It was one of the perks he liked about working for Silas Draven. He wasn’t a huge fan of skiing, but cross-country skiing on the mountain trails was the only way to access some of the remote residents of Crater Lake. His horse just couldn’t handle the deep snow that collected on the side of the mountain in the winter.

      And he would never put his horse in the way of a possible avalanche.

      He glanced over to the southern peak, to the forest that was thick, before it disappeared into the alpine zone of the mountain. Old Nestor lived up in that dense forest.

      Nestor was a hermit. He liked to live off the grid and away from everyone else. Luke admired him and went to check on him often. Nestor was the one who’d taught him many things about surviving on the mountain, since Nestor had been living up on the mountain for as long as Luke could remember and before that.

      Only, Nestor was getting old and in the winter the cold bothered him something fierce. So Luke was thankful for access to skis and snowshoes. It made checking on Nestor that much easier.

      He unlocked the door and headed over to the rack.

      “Oh, cool! Snowshoes,” Sarah remarked. “I’ve always wanted to try them.”

      “Really?” he asked, surprised.

      She nodded. “Anything to make walking on snow easier.”

      “Snowshoeing is just as much work as skiing. Skis can move you faster.”

      “Yeah, but cross-country skis don’t go uphill. You said you wanted me to learn how to access trails and stuff. Shouldn’t I be snowshoeing?”

       She’s got a point. Skiing will only get you so far.

      “You’re right,” Luke admitted. “Okay. We’ll add snowshoes to our pack.”

      “Pack?”

      Luke picked up the large rucksack that he’d stuffed full of emergency and survival gear. The pack was probably half the size of Sarah and when he held it up to her, her eyes widened and her mouth opened for a moment in surprise.

      Then she shrugged. “Sure. That’s reasonable. Just out of curiosity, though, what’s in it?”

      “Don’t you know?”

      She glared at him. “Really?”

      “You should know.”

      “I don’t. I’ve never lived near a mountain. I’m from Manhattan.”

      Luke shook his head. “Hey, I was trying not to stereotype you.”

      “I ought to slug you.”

      He laughed at that. He couldn’t help himself; it was easy to tease her. He was enjoying the banter. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

      She crossed her arms. “Fine or I could start talking about mountain men.”

      “What do you know about mountain men?” he asked.

      Sarah shook her head. “Tell me what’s in the bag.”

      Luke knelt down and unzipped it. “This is a standard pack to help you survive in a winter climate on the mountain.”

      “So I’ll only need to carry around this stuff in the winter?”

      “No,” Luke said. “Some things can be left behind, but if you’re working up near the Alpine zone or higher, you’d be surprised how cold it can get even in the heat of summer.”

      “Okay, so always be prepared for snow?”

      He nodded. “Yep. So in this pack you have your essentials like first-aid kit. The only thing I haven’t packed in here is a change of clothes for you so I just packed some of my old clothes. If worse comes to worst you can always wear those.”

      Her cheeks reddened slightly, as if she was blushing, but Luke could’ve been wrong. It could’ve been the wind.

      She cleared her throat. “Go on.”

      “Canteen for water.”

      “What about melting snow?”

      Luke cocked an eyebrow. “You’re going to need something to carry it in. I also have a pot, ice pick, rope, matches, GPS, topographical map of the area, one day’s worth of rations, sleeping bag and an axe.”

      “It’s like you’re camping.”

      “If you get lost out there, yeah, you’ll be ‘camping’ until help arrives.” Then he held out something he was sure she’d never seen before. “This is one of the most important things.”

      “A compass?”

      “Close. It’s an altimeter.”

      “A what?” she asked.

      “It’s a barometric altimeter. It measures changes in atmosphere. The higher you go, the lower the pressure is. If your GPS or compass isn’t working, this can be used along with the map to determine where you are. I’ll show you how to use it.”

      “Good, because seriously my eyes were glazing over there for a second.” She laughed nervously and he handed her the altimeter to look at. “Though, really, won’t you know if you’re at the top of the mountain? How can you get lost if you’re up there?”


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