Chapter 13

13

JACE

J ace’s heart was a thunderous presence in his chest as he pulled off the icy road, gravel crunching beneath the tires of his Range Rover. His gaze locked onto the sleek, black SUV that had no business marring the rustic charm of his closed-for-renovation lodge's snow-dusted driveway. Despite the chill biting through his flannel shirt, a flicker of annoyance warmed his blood. The corporate vultures had arrived—uninvited.

For weeks, Jace had evaded their persistent advances with the skill of a seasoned navigator charting treacherous waters. Letters had been left unopened and marked ‘return to sender,’ emails ignored, calls met with the silence of the mountain air. Yet here they were, as unwelcome as frostbite on a clear winter’s day.

He climbed out of the Range Rover, slamming the door behind him, his boots sinking slightly into the fresh powder that blanketed the ground. The driver of the intruding vehicle, an immaculate figure in a tailored suit, stepped out to open the rear door, but Jace was quicker. Striding forward with purpose, he pressed his hand against the door and forced it shut before anyone could emerge from the cocoon of luxury.

"Move along," he commanded, voice laced with the kind of authority that resonated with the wild around them. "I'm not interested, and you’re trespassing." Eyes mirroring the pines surrounding the property bore into the driver with an intensity that left no room for argument. "And I have my grandaddy’s shotgun to back that up." He didn’t, but neither the driver nor the SUV’s occupants had any way of knowing that.

The implicit threat hung between them, a reminder of the stakes at play. This land wasn’t just soil and timber—it was the keeper of his heart’s solace, the battleground of his defiance against a past that had seen him in the midst of a jungle in a battle to save his commander’s life to the cacophony of a busy Michelin starred restaurant and now to a small peaceful village in Vermont. With a scowl etched upon his rugged features, Jace turned his back on the interloper, the weight of the lodge keys in his pocket a comforting reminder of the fight he had won—and the battles yet to come.

Jace's boots crunched on the fresh layer of snow as he strode towards the lodge, his breath visible in the frigid air. He had faced down more than blizzards and broken pipes in his time here; the lodge was a testament to his grit, a sanctuary built with sweat and dreams. Selling was not an option, not even when the bank manager, with furrowed brow and pitying eyes, had urged him to let go. The denial of the loan stung less than the insinuation that he couldn't make it. But Jace knew resilience like the back of his calloused hands; he had other plans, hidden cards up his sleeve—a group of investors who weren't afraid of a gamble and whose deep pockets were lined with the promise of future prosperity.

As he was ready to cross the threshold into his sanctuary, the shrill ring of his cell phone cut through the silence like a storm siren. He hesitated, hand hovering over the lodge keys, the metallic jingle a stark contrast to the urgency in the vibration against his thigh.

"Jace Winterborne," he answered, voice steady despite the sudden thrum of adrenaline that coursed through his veins.

"Jace, it's Hank from down at the hardware store. We've got a group of hikers caught in the snowstorm up on the ridge. The mayor thought you might be able to help."

Without a second thought, the lodge and its warmth, the incessant pressure from the bank, and the prowling corporate wolves at his door all faded into the backdrop of his mind. Duty and an innate desire to protect roared to the forefront.

"Count me in," Jace said firmly, already moving towards his Range Rover, urgency lending speed to his stride.

As he passed by the SUV, the driver, still recoiling from their earlier encounter, glanced up, an uncertain question in his eyes. Jace could feel the man's gaze following him, but the impending peril of the hikers overshadowed any concern for the intruder's bewilderment.

"Get off my land, and if I were you, I’d get into town and find a place to stay.” He looked up at the sky. “I’m not sure you’re going to have time to get back to any nearby city before this storm hits." Jace’s tone brooked no argument.

The driver blinked, startled, as Jace shoved the door of the passenger compartment closed again with a resolute thud. Not breaking pace, he gripped the handle of the driver's doors, yanking it open to push the driver inside, leaning in close enough for his breath to fog the glass.

"Next time you come back, you better have an invitation," he growled, the timber of his voice low and menacing. The driver nodded, wide-eyed, and Jace slammed the door shut, the finality of the act reinforcing his resolve.

With a swift turn, Jace headed to his Range Rover, the cold biting at his skin, reminding him of the harshness awaiting on the mountain. But there was no room for hesitation; his heart pumped fiercely, driven by the knowledge that every second mattered when lives hung precariously in nature's unforgiving grasp.

As he drove toward the trailhead, the image of Felicity's gentle eyes flickered in his mind, her soft smile a stark contrast to the unyielding ice and fury he was about to face. But he pushed the thought aside, focusing solely on what lay ahead: rescue, safety, survival—all that mattered now was those who might have already been injured and stranded on the mountain.

Jace's Range Rover rumbled up to the trailhead, its headlights piercing the thickening veil of snow that swirled in the beam like a flurry of ghostly moths. He killed the engine and stepped out into the maelstrom, the cold gnawing at his flesh with a ferocity that made the lodge's absent warmth a cruel memory. He spotted a group of townspeople already setting up a makeshift temporary camp for searchers, and hopefully the hikers, to get out of the weather. It would allow the paramedics who were already pulling up a place to triage.

The wind howled like a pack of spectral wolves, each gust sharp as fangs, raking across Jace's exposed skin. He cinched his jacket tighter around his muscular frame, the snowflakes clinging to the dark stubble on his jaw. He swapped out his normal knit hat for a balaclava ski mask, tucking the bottom into the neck of his down vest, zipping it closed, and leaving only his eyes exposed. He pulled out a pair of ski goggles, a headlamp and thermal gloves, donning them all before heading towards the waiting group of volunteers.

He plunged into the drifts, boots sinking into the cold white abyss that stretched before him. Other searchers, mere shadows in the blizzard's fury, trudged alongside, their breath crystallizing in the frigid air. They moved as one, a silent pact between them, their determination as palpable as the ice that formed on anything it could.

With every step, Jace's thoughts skated back to Felicity—her curls bouncing with each laugh, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose as she buried herself in another book. Was she looking out her window now and witnessing the storm's wrath, her heart tightening with worry for him?

Despite the biting cold, a warmth spread through Jace's chest, an ember of connection that tethered him to Felicity even amidst the tempest. He imagined her wrapped in one of her oversized sweaters, biting her lip in concern. It was a thought both comforting and unsettling, a distraction he could ill afford yet clung to desperately—a beacon in the storm.

"Keep moving," he muttered to himself, his voice lost to the wind. The searchers' headlamps bobbed in the darkness, beacons of hope in the perilous night. Jace pushed forward, every muscle taut with effort, his mind racing with strategies and contingencies.

He would find those hikers. He would bring them safely home. And then, only then, would he allow himself to sink into the thought of Felicity's arms—perhaps the only thing more daunting than the mountain he now faced.

Jace's breath came out in ragged plumes as he and the others finally stumbled upon the hikers' makeshift shelter, a crumpled tent nearly buried under the weight of fresh snow. The relief that washed over him was fierce, electrifying his weary limbs. The hikers had been mere shadows against the blizzard's canvas, but now they were tangible, alive, their eyes wide with gratitude.

"Everyone okay?" Jace barked, his voice authoritative yet laced with concern as he knelt beside them. A chorus of exhausted affirmations met his ears, but it was the unexpected sound of a whimper that drew his attention downward. Tucked within the folds of a thermal blanket was a tiny, shivering miniature dachshund, its helpless state tugging at something primal within him.

"Damn," he muttered, a smile breaking across his wind-chapped lips. "You brought the whole family."

With care that belied his rugged exterior, Jace scooped up the little dog, tucked it into his jacket and cradled it close to his chest. He could feel its heartbeat against his own, a sign of survival that resonated deep within his soul. As the search team herded the hikers back toward safety, Jace followed, his newfound friend wiggling happily as it got warmed up. It wasn't just about the lodge or the land; it was about protecting, nurturing, giving everything he had to those in need—human or otherwise.

The return to town felt like emerging from another world. The snowstorm had ceased its fury down on the flat, leaving behind a hushed reverence as if the mountains themselves were paying homage to their triumph. Jace and the rest of those who’d gone to rescue the hikers stepped into the embrace of the community, a hero's welcome warming him more than any fire could as he handed off the dachshund to the town’s vet. But it was the sight of Felicity, standing on the periphery, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, that sent a jolt through him far more potent than the cold ever did.

"Jace!" Her voice cracked with emotion as she rushed forward, her arms enfolding him with a strength that belied her soft, curvy frame. The touch of her body against his, even through layers of winter gear, sparked an ache for intimacy that caught him off guard.

"Felicity," he whispered, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of her head. Her breath danced across his skin, a tantalizing promise of warmth and comfort. "I'm all right."

"Thank goodness," she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "I was so worried... I—I couldn't stand the thought of...” Her words faltered, lost in the tide of emotions that swirled between them.

"Shh, it's over now," Jace reassured her, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, reveling in the softness of her skin. "We found them—all of them, safe and sound."

Felicity's eyes drifted to the cooing bundle being taken away by the vet. "Even the dachshund? Someone said they’d taken their little dog with them?" she asked, a gentle laugh bubbling through the remnants of fear.

"That little guy has more tenacity than most people I know. Cute little sucker," Jace joked, allowing the lightness of the moment to chase away the shadow of danger that had loomed so large.

"I keep telling you, you’re my hero, and now a lot of other people will think the same," she said, looking up at him with an admiration that filled him with a heady mix of pride and passion.

"As long as I’m your hero, I’ll be happy," Jace murmured, his voice softening. In that moment, surrounded by the quiet respect and gratitude of his fellow townsfolk and the woman whose concern had seen him through the storm, Jace Winterborne realized he had found something more powerful than he had ever imagined.

At the edge of the crowd, Jace spotted the same SUV that he’d chased away from the lodge. It sat like a dark predator waiting to pounce.