DARCY

I felt my cell phone vibrate deep in my pocket and a streak of panic ran through me. I calmly stood, left the dinner table and went out onto the porch. Cort must have thought I was heading for wood and followed. I hit the 'answer' button and looked into his eyes.

"Hello?" I heard the crackling of a bad signal but it was clearly Bud's voice.

"Sweetheart. We got him. He's alive."

I almost collapsed, thank God for Cort's strong arms. "Jesus! Is he alright?"

"It's bad baby." More static. "Helicopter's coming up, taking him to Burlington . . . crackle, crackle . . . get Riles and meet us at the hospital there."

"Yes," I was rushing into the house, all eyes on me.

"Darcy," Bud said clear as a bell.

"Yeah?"

"Sweetheart. Careful. Roads are icy."

"Yes, Bud. See you soon."

BUD

It was something to see. Fucking amazing. I watched the paramedics carefully lift John out of the hole. A hole that could have only been dug by the bear. I could see the claw marks along the edges of it. John looked like fucking hell. His left leg was shattered, made me sick to see. I mean, bloody, the bone sticking right out of his ripped pants. He was unconscious. Pale. His face swollen and bloody. They put him on a body board. As they worked on him, I leaned close, listened.

"Even smells like it," one guy grunted as he strapped John's head tight against the board.

"Fucking thing must have been lying on top of him. Look at this." The other guy pointed and we all leaned over them. "Not one patch of frost bite." He looked up at us. "That mother fucking bear saved this man's life."

I turned to the dead animal. Sophie was lying on its paw, whining, looking up at me with that goofy look she has, like I should apologize for something. "Come here, pooch." No go, she crawled closer to the damn bear, buried her face in its pelt. Better him than me.

But I picked up the dog and tucked her inside my coat as the helicopter hovered. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't going to land. Couldn't. The terrain was too steep. I watched them drop a harness then connect it to the body board. Seemed like it took forever for them to get John up into the craft. Then it looked like they were having trouble getting the board inside. The helicopter wavered for a moment. My heart almost stopped. But finally they rose and took off.

The team gathered the gear. Mike walked over to the bear and just stood there.

"What?" I asked.

"This bear is legend around here. Been on that property Biebe bought since before I was born. Look at him." He crouched down, actually pet the smelly thing, ran his hand over its graying snout. "Old as hell. Should have been dead years ago." He stood and turned to me. "Thank God for John he wasn't, heh?"

"What are you gonna do with it?" I have no fucking clue why I asked that. But something about the situation reminded me of a fallen partner, a dead cop I once knew. One who'd saved my buddy's life. He too was big as a bear.

"Wildlife control will take care of it. We'll drag it down and leave it for them." He grunted, pulling his hat down over his ears. "Unless you think I should have them take it to the Inn."

I just shrugged. "Maybe," I pulled on my gloves, heaved the pooch higher in my arms. "Yeah, take it there."

RILEY

I woke with a start. Sudden. A feeling of relief soaring through my veins and shot out of the bedroom door just as Max and Darce were coming in.

Darcy wrapped her arms around me. "Get your coat, Riles. John's waiting for us at the hospital." Max drove Bud's rental and I sat up front, giving him directions. Darcy was leaning over the seat, her hand on my shoulder, grasping my fingers. We were halfway to Burlington when I finally got the nerve to turn to her and ask.

"How is he?"

Her eyes went blank then she swallowed hard. "Hon, Bud says it's bad. But he's alive. He's alive."

All I remember about the rest of the ride was Max's warm hand, reaching over once and squeezing my knee in reassurance.

It took fucking forever to get any information at the hospital. We stood in the emergency room, repeatedly explaining that we were there for the avalanche victim. That I am his wife. That we were told he was being life-flighted from Mount Mansfield. The poor young woman at the desk just looked at us, her expression blank, apologizing that she had no idea who we were talking about. I turned to Darcy.

"Are we at the right hospital?"

"Jesus, Bud just said to meet him at the hospital in Burlington." She turned to the girl. "Can you call the other hospitals? Please!"

By this time the girl was shaking, ready to cry. Max was holding me vertical, without his strong arms I'd have surely dropped with fear. She ran from the desk and returned with another woman. We went through the whole story again, Darcy and I babbling over each other, a virtual explosion of overlapping hysterical voices. But this time Max stepped forward and explained in his strongest General voice. This woman was older, far more experienced and very kind.

"Are you speaking of Mr. Biebe?" She asked guardedly.

"I'm Mrs. Biebe. Where is he? Please." I gasped back tears.

She walked around the counter and calmly led me to a seat. "Mrs. Biebe. It took a while for them to get him off the mountain. His ETA is within the next few moments. Please be patient. The reports are that he's stable, but that's all we know until we see him. Would you like some coffee?"

I nodded then turned to watch the door.

The next few minutes, my ass. We waited forever! I paced, Darcy wrung her hands and Max kept trying to get the coffee out of my hands, calmly explaining that it was the last thing I needed. Completely frustrated, I fished the cigarettes Mike had left for me out of my pocket and stomped out the emergency room door. Standing outside, freezing without a coat, I heard the distinctive sound of the coming helicopter. My heart leapt. John!

It took an eternity for the damn thing to land. And another forever for them to get the body board out. They were moving carefully. As they lay it on the gurney, suddenly everything moved at breakneck speed. They sped past me and I wrenched my body to look down at John. It wasn't him! I didn't recognize the face. It was swollen, covered with blood. The man's hair was bloody, soaked, slicked back and there was an ice bag over half the face. My heart dropped and I leaned against the wall.

Maybe that was one of the other trapped men? Again I stared at the helicopter door. That's when I saw Bud climb out. I ran into the hospital, suddenly distinguishing the ache in my heart, the pull, buried beneath my terror like poor John had been deep in the snow. Jesus fucking Christ. That mangled man was John!

They let me stand in the corner while four doctors worked on him. Now this took very little time. Before I could even formulate a question, they were wheeling him past me. I reached out my hand to the first arm I could catch.

"Please! Tell me what's going on."

The doctor was kind; he took me aside and asked me if I was alone. I shook my head. He led me to the waiting room to gather Darcy, Bud and Max, then took us up in an elevator. There, we were settled in a quiet waiting room. He sat calmly and spoke, watching my eyes, occasionally turning to the others as he explained.

"Riley," he said, and I blinked, realizing for the first time that I knew this man. He's an orthopedic surgeon. Doctor Forsythe. We'd met several times in town. His wife was also an innkeeper and part of the Stowe Innkeepers Association. "John's bad, but it could have been much worse. The reason it took so long to get him here, is that we had x-rays done at the med facility in Ski Patrol. Oh, don't worry, he's stable. It's a precaution that often makes it far more efficient upon arrival here." He shifted in his seat, leaned closer.

"His spine is fine, but there are three broken ribs. A hair crack in his hip. A punctured lung."

I must have looked like I was going to jump out of my skin. Spine? Lung? Hip? My mind was spinning. He took my hand in his.

"The hip and lung will heal, Riley. He will recover well. The prognosis is good. We're prepping him for surgery right now. The left leg is my real concern. It's shattered. We're going to have to reconstruct it. This will be the hard part for John."

I swallowed and he continued.

"We'll put a plate in there and pins. But with proper therapy, he's going to be fine. Do you have any questions?"

I know there should have been a thousand questions I could have asked. Should have been concerned with. But only one came out of my mouth. "Can I see him?"

The doctor smiled and stood. "Sure, but he's still unconscious, won't even know you're there. And just for a moment. We'll be ready to take him in soon. Okay?"

I nodded, turned to my Family for reassurance then followed Dr. Forsythe down the hall.

I swear I actually heard my heart crack in two. John was almost completely unrecognizable. His beautiful face bruised but cleaned. Swollen. His eyelids, huge purple lumps. He was under a sheet, one arm strapped down and an intravenous drip already in place. I took his cold hand in mine, kissed it then wiped away the tears that had fallen on his bruised knuckles. Then I softly kissed his lips. "I'm here, baby. I love you John."

The nurse sighed, apologized. "I'm sorry. You'll have to leave now."

I walked aimlessly, unable to remember the way back to the waiting area. My mind was numb, going into some sort of paralysis. In order to focus, I had to touch something; the wall, my hair, anything that would hold me to the earth. To the here and now. I concentrated on the last words John said to me. You gonna be okay, Baby? The sensation of his last kiss, still tingling on my lips. And the feel of his arms, warm and strong around me under the wool blanket.

That's when I completely lost it. The realization that I could have been saying goodbye to his dead body, instead of looking at his breathing but battered face, swept through me like the last storm. Cold. Frightening. I leaned against the wall, began to slide down. But before I hit the floor, I heard a voice. One of the most comforting voices I know. Bud.

"Gotcha!"

***

I hate fainting. Hate the hung over feeling when you wake up, that fuzzy warped-out sensation. I came to quickly, still tight in Bud's arms. I groaned.

"S'okay, baby. Here ya go." He settled me easily on the soft armchair then knelt at my feet. Darcy handed me a glass of water and I tried to blink away the cotton in my head.

"Jesus!" I cried. "He looks like he's been hit by a bus." Choking back a sob, I slowly spun the cup in my hands and finally focused on Bud's blue-green eyes.

"Yeah, Riles. But they're saying he looks worse than he is."

"Oh Bud!" I threw my arms around his neck, suddenly aware of everything he'd done. "Thank you! Thank you for finding him, for going up there and trying." The skin under his five o'clock shadow was still chilled.

"Hey, Riles. I ain't the hero here. Your ugly pooch found him, not me."

"Where is Sophie?" I sniffled and tried to smile.

"The Sheriff took her to the Inn. She's in good hands." His hand pushed my hair back. "Ya know Riles, you look like hell. Why don't you lie down on that couch for a while?"

This time, I thought I should. I tried to stand but couldn't. That's when I noticed the circle of concerned faces crowding the room. Bud and Darcy, our dearest friends. Maximus. Reagan, still wearing a ski patrol jacket. Lachlan, Andy, Terry, Colin. My heart thumped.

"You're all here?"

Several kisses followed. Colin lifted me from the chair and lay me on the couch. "Sleep, darlin'. We'll wake ya if there's any news."

Lach replaced him at my side and held my hand till I drifted off.

JOHN

I was riding the snowmobile, soaring over clouds, looking down at the Inn, at Riley. She was pacing, crying. Man, I should have thought about how hard this would be on her. Now, it's over. I'm probably dead.

Can't feel a damn thing. Fuck. Shouldn't there be some kind of pain when you die? Can't even feel myself breathe. Is my heart pumping? Can't hear either. This is frustrating. What do I remember?

I remember making love under that blue wool blanket. The same blanket we made love under so many times I can't even count them. Can I count? Who's asking me to count? Backwards? Are ya fucking nuts? I probably can't even count forward right now. What would I want to count for anyway? What does it matter?

Remember. Remember. What do I remember? The call. The cold. The snow. Digging that skier out. Man, was he grateful. Cried like a fucking girl. Damn idiot. Bet he'll never ski the North face again, ay? I want to laugh. Damn. I'll miss laughing.

What else do I remember? Thunder. Hitting something. Flying though the air and . . . aw fuck! The damn mountain of snow coming at me. All I could see was Riley's face. What the fuck? I don't want to die that way. God sakes! Something a little more dignified. Please. Damn.

Anything else? Yeah. I remember being hot. Really hot. Yeah, that's right. And thinking it was a sure sign my number had come up. I was fucking suffocating. Then there seemed to be air. But I couldn't fill my lungs. Another sure sign.

Remember? Hell. The rest couldn't be memory. But I heard Riles tell me she loved me. That was nice. Now what? Dammit! Now what?

I remember. Something else. Really important. A voice. Not Riley. A man's voice. Who the hell was talking to me? Ah, I know.

Ah. Yes. I remember it all now.

I'm not dead. But I have a feeling I'm gonna wish I was. At least for a while, ay.

RILEY

I was awake, but too tired to open my eyes. I listened to the soft conversations in the waiting room. Amazing, isn't it? I could actually identify every single Brother's voice. Rationally, they should all be the same, right? I mean, the same man created every one of the men in that room. But when he was finished with them, when they came to this world, they all became their own person. Even more distinct than when they started, formed and molded by their experiences and relationships. Every one of them worth knowing, worthy of love so great it kept all our hearts going.

And they gave it back a hundredfold. The pull was different with each one. I knew without a doubt, that dear Lachlan was still so near. Still holding my hand, his thumb drawing a tender circle over my limp fingers. I could feel Maximus, sitting somewhere near my head, knew it was him, even though he wasn't talking. And John. He was not far either. On an operating table. I hurt for him. My body aching. My left leg throbbing.

"How long is this gonna take?" Colin asked quietly.

"A while, sweetie. If that leg is as bad as Bud described, we're looking at another few hours, at least." Reagan answered in a whisper.

"Will he skate again?"

There wasn't a response to that one. I felt a tear push at the corners of my eyes.

Terry cleared his throat. "He's alive, mate. And he'll walk. That alone is a fuckin' miracle. Two days under the snow."

"Well," Bud said softly. "I think they should consider moving to a fucking warmer climate."

There was a general chuckle. "More hot tea, Sweetheart?" Darcy teased.

"I ain't kidding. I thought I was gonna freeze to death up there."

"Thin blood," Andy grunted then chuckled. "Know the fuckin' feeling. Haven't been warm since I got here in November."

I heard Colin stand, walk. Was he pacing? "What happens now? They start construction in less than a month. We gotta get a plan together, mates. Can't be leavin' them to figure it out themselves."

Several grunts followed. "Let's get him out of the hospital first. Then we'll make a schedule. Riles said they have great contractors and engineers. All we need to do is make sure one of us is there to watch over things." Reagan, always the practical thinker.

"I'm here," Andy sighed. "Maybe Cort and East can come for a week each. I'm gonna have my hands full overseeing the kitchen construction and equipment installation."

Another grunt of agreement. "We'll figure it all out." Darcy whispered. "Let's just see how today goes first."

"Baby, it's already tomorrow," Bud said with an exhausted groan. "Come here, rest on my shoulder. You're fucking beat."

I smiled, envisioning Darcy cuddling on his lap, her head tucked under his chin, her knees curled on his.

"Good girl," he whispered.

"Well, time to report." Terry grunted. "Any special messages for the ladies waiting at the Inn?"

"I'll join ya. Need a fag." Colin said. And I felt them both leave. Felt their hearts drift down the hall, down the elevator, and outside into the cold. I wished I had the energy to join them. I really wanted a cigarette. But I really wanted to just lay there, my eyes closed, my hand in Lachlan's.

Just before I was about to drift off again, Max spoke. "Brother Bud. May I ask a question?"

"Yeah?"

"Exactly how did you find him?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then I heard shuffling as they both left the room. At first I felt an electric charge of alarm run through my body. But then I relaxed, deciding that it didn't matter. All the mattered was that John was found. Lach's hand ran softly over my back. "Shh, sleep Riley. Shh." Within minutes I was deep in slumber.

BUD

What the fuck? What was Max asking me? Did he suspect something I hadn't thought about?

"What do you wanna know?" Yeah, yeah. I know it was an attack, but the fucking General don't scare me. Besides, I was tired, cold. Concerned for John. Not in the mood for a fucking interrogation, that's for sure.

He leaned close, spoke quietly. "More than forty hours buried in the snow. Broken, bleeding. No food, no water. Sub-zero temperatures at night. Brother, we both know that he should be dead. How has this happened? Was a bear involved?"

Man, I stepped back. Hate that hocus pocus shit. It was just too damn spooky. How the fuck did he know?

Max nodded then sighed. "I have been suspecting such for most of the day. Tell me how you found him?"

I huffed and shook my head. But I told him. Told him about the dead bear. About the hole it dug, how the paramedics suspect it had been laying over John. How they said it saved his life. Then he asked the question I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to admit I did.

"Where is the bear now, Brother?" His eyes were intense.

I cleared my throat. Looked around. Spoke without looking at him. Sure he'd fucking laugh in my face. "At the Inn."

His hand squeezed my shoulder. "Good. That is good." It was all he said before going back to the waiting room.

RILEY

I woke to the sensation of a new pull, a different set of hands holding mine. Cold hands. Opening my eyes, I watched his face slowly come into focus, smiled.

"Oi, Baby Sister," Hando said softly. "Ya know ya fuckin' snore." And he grinned.

I sat up and moved into his embrace. "I didn't know you were here. You're so cold." I shivered and he pulled his big black coat opened, wrapping me in the warmth beneath.

"Been here the whole time. At the mountain. Been waitin' outside since he got here. Hate fuckin' hospitals," he spoke quietly, soft in my ear.

Yes, Hando hated hospitals, and crowds and cold weather. But he overcame all of that to be there, to sit with me. To show his concern for John. And I loved him for it. "How's Mere?"

"Your mate's good. At the Inn. Talking their ears off."

I smiled. I love to listen to Mere talk. It's always interesting. Suddenly I turned to Reagan. "What time is it?"

"Four."

Four in the morning? Shit, I should have been able to guess that by the way they all looked. Sitting up like zombies, clutching foam coffee cups, eyes glassy and red. I slid out of Hando's embrace and stood carefully, his hand out in support.

"Ya okay?"

"Yeah, I just need the restroom. I'll be right back."

I walked to the nurse's station and asked if there was any news. She must have heard that question a thousand times since she came on duty. She sighed, shook her head then went back to her charts. In the restroom I looked at the pale woman in the mirror with horror. I didn't have my purse with me. Not even a lipstick. I splashed cold water on my face, rubbed my eyes and groaned.

"I got just what you need." It was Darcy, walking in the door. "And it's not coffee. It's no better for you but . . ." She opened her purse and pulled out a bag of chocolates. Darcy to the rescue! I grinned, unwrapped a few Hershey kisses and gulped them down, feeling the sugar rush almost immediately.

"Got cigarettes?" I asked pensively, wondering what John had threatened her with if she gave me a smoke.

"Sure do. S'go." She tossed my coat to me, pulled hers on and we slunk down the hall toward the elevator. One more inquiry at the nurse's station and we were heading for the great outdoors.

We stood in a corner, protected from the blustery wind and soft, puffy snowflakes blowing in lovely swirls, sparkling in the glowing lamp posts. I lit, took a drag and groaned. "Jesus I've missed cigarettes."

She chuckled and blew smoke. "You're doing good, Riles. Real good."

I laughed. "Sure! Let's see. I've lied to you, cried constantly, refused to eat, tried to stay awake for what, three days now. Passed out. Yeah, I'm doing real good."

She watched her cigarette glow, tucked her other hand deep in her pocket. "I don't think I could have done any better. You stayed strong. You lied so that we wouldn't worry. Then you called when you needed us. That takes strength. You didn't eat because you couldn't. Hell my stomach was in knots. I can imagine how yours has been. And you got some sleep."

"That's only because I knew you were here. Jesus, Darce. They're all here."

"Of course we are." She shivered, pulled her collar up. "Cort and Iz are at the Inn with Dee, Mere, Nat and Monica. I think Cort's chopped half your forest by now. And the ladies are cleaning everything that can't run from them. Probably gave Sophie a bath too. She's slow, they must have caught her."

I laughed. Then I heard her gasp. "What?" I reached out, held her arm.

"Fuck, Riles. What if something happened to Bud? Jesus!"

I took her in my arms, held her tight. She was shaking, and not from the cold. My God, she must have been beside herself through the entire search.

"I mean, I worry all the time. He's always in dangerous situations but this was different. Bad Ass was way out of his element." She pushed tears away. Huffed herself back into control then laughed. "I'm gonna crystalize in this damn cold. Let's get inside."

I put out my cigarette and we went back upstairs arm in arm.

***

I'd just gotten out of my coat when Dr. Forsythe walked in, pulling off his green fabric scull cap with a smile. We all stood.

"A standing ovation?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Went very well. Clean breaks. But we still had to do a lot of work on it."

I thumped down in to a chair. "Are there pins?"

He nodded. "And a plate. Good construction, if I say so myself. Rebuilt, just like your Inn's going to be." He sat on the coffee table, pushing magazines aside and looking at me. "John came through it beautifully. He's in good shape, strong. In recovery. He'll be there for several hours, so," he glanced around the room, then deep into my eyes. "This is the time when I tell you to go home, get some sleep and get prettied up. You don't want to look worse than he does when he sees you, do you?"

"Like that's possible," I joked through a haze of happy tears.

"Go home, Riley."

I didn't move.

He sighed. "Now is the time to get your rest." He shook his head. "And now is when you refuse, heh?"

"I'll sleep here. Just till he wakes up."

He turned to the crowded room. Everyone shrugged. "Someone bring her some fresh clothes. She can shower in the locker room. I'll get some blankets." Turning a scowl to me, he grunted. "Not like you'll get much sleep here. This room will be hopping in a few hours. But you do what you want." He reached out, ran a soft palm down my cheek. "He's going to be fine, Riley."

He stood and walked to the door. We all clapped and cheered quietly. Doctor Forsythe turned and bowed like a rock star after his best performance and left with a chuckle.

It was determined that everyone but Bud and Darcy would take hotel rooms in town. Lach chose to stay with me, curl up on the other couch. Bud was heading back to the Inn and our guest room with his very tired Sweetheart. Then Cort would shuttle the women back to Burlington to be with their men.

"We'll all meet here around noon," Terry said. "You call if you need us, love?"

"Of course." Lots of hugs all around.

Then Lachlan pulled me onto the couch and cuddled me close. I melted into his arms. His strength. The pure love of his deep friendship and caring.

"Everything will be apples, Riles," he whispered.

Not till I see John's eyes open, I thought. Not till I hear his voice. I looked up, surprised to see Max standing at the doorway. He hadn't spoken all night, sitting alone, apart, silent.

"Dear One, I would like a word with you."

"I'll just . . . ah . . . go smoke," Lach said quietly and left us alone.

Maximus sat across from me, leaned forward, elbows on knees and sighed a deep painful groan. "Riley," he said softly. "Your prayers were answered. John was not alone up there. Spirit was with him, Dear One."

"Spirit?" I blinked, my heart thumping wild. Oh God! Did he mean what I thought he meant?

Max nodded. "The animal had dug him out and lay over him, keeping him warm and alive. Your shapeshifter. The old man who becomes a bear. Your bear who becomes a man." He squeezed his eyes closed, then moved closer, sitting beside me. "When the men neared, the bear rose to alert them to John's exact position. They misunderstood."

My hand flew to my heart.

"It was a clean death, Riley. One shot."

Jesus, and I thought there were no more tears inside of me. I thought it was over. Grandpa Luke. Dead. Grandpa Luke. The reason John was alive.

Max rolled his neck, rubbed his tired eyes. "Brother Bud had the bear taken to the Inn. But we must decide what is to be done. Where we will bury him, how we will honor him."

I nodded. "I can't think. Can I decide tomorrow? After I talk to John?"

Maximus nodded. "I am sorry, Dear One."

"Me too," I shook my head sadly. "Me too."