Almost a Family

He dragged his gaze from hers and put on a cocky grin. “Since you made us dump, you get to haul her up the hill.”

“Me?” Molly’s lips thinned in indignation. “You’re the one who tipped us, you creep.”

“Maybe. But if you’d done a better job of steering, I wouldn’t have had to save your necks at all.”

She blustered as he blithely he picked up the sled, dumped the excess snow off of it and slapped it back down before walking away.

“You’re going to pay for that,” she warned.

He heard the hiss of them following behind and laughed. “Whatever, Mol. You don’t scare me.”

At the top of the hill, he needled her further. “Why don’t you and Sara go alone this time? I think my extra weight made us go farther. That way you won’t be near the trees.”

“Yeah, just me and Aunt Molly!” came the cheer from the sled. Sara clapped her hands.

Molly smiled up at him, baring her teeth. “Chicken.”

Gamely she sat, and he noticed she could actually tuck her boots right into the curve of the toboggan. He’d forgotten how small her feet were. He remembered them now, delicately arched and always with painted nails. Her eyes gleamed up at him from Kim’s black and grey suit. “Coward,” she whispered, taunting, while he grinned back at her like a fool.

He wasn’t opposed to taking a little teasing either. In fact, in teasing each other, he felt closer to her than he had since she’d arrived. “Be careful who you’re calling a coward,” he warned with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“We’ll see.”

“Need a push?”

“Go for it.”

He put all his weight into pushing them, skidding in his boots and tripping, landing on his belly in the snow as Sara and Molly hurtled down the hill.

He watched, half laughing at him

self, half at them when they hit a dip, got some air and tumbled over and over in the snow, finally landing in a brilliant pouf of white, unmoving.

His heart hit his throat as his face froze. Oh God. They weren’t moving. “Mol?” he shouted, leaping to his feet. “Sara?”

As that single second of panic passed, he realized a tumble like that couldn’t cause any real damage. Heading down the hill, he heard a giggle and a quick shhh and knew they were up to something. Stealthily he bent, scooped up a mitt of snow and molded it in his glove. You’re going to pay for that, she’d warned, and he couldn’t help the feral smile that curved his lips. If it was a fight she was spoiling for, she’d get it.

“Ambush!” went up the cry. Molly sprang to life, leaping from her position, hurling a snowball and hitting him square in the chest. “I’m not tugging her up there this time, Elliot! Coward!”

Sara’s laughter bubbled over the thin, cold air as he laughed freely. “That all you got, Shaeffer?” He took aim and let his own fly. Then ran over the snow, boots squeaking, to catch her around the waist, preventing her next throw. Instead she twisted, crushing the snowball and squishing it squarely in his face, rubbing it in and giving him a washing.

Quicker than he thought possible, he grabbed her wrist, hooked a boot behind her foot and tripped her, pushing her into the snow and landing on top of her heaving chest. He sat up, straddling her, and stared down into her face which had gone utterly blank with surprise.

“Don’t…” she warned him, her words a shaky stutter in the cold afternoon.

His voice was soft, deadly. “Don’t what? Don’t wash your face? Don’t start what you can’t finish, Molly m’girl.” His lips were teasing, his eyes flashing fun as he raised a snow-filled hand menacingly.

Her eyes changed from shock to fear. Not of his strength, of that he was sure. But because she was realizing, as he did, that she still mattered. Discovering there was still so much between them, and he was torn between knowing this should be the end and the increasing realization that it felt like a beginning. It wasn’t what he’d wanted and she’d made it clear it wasn’t what she wanted either. But there it was, and he had no idea what to do with it.

He let the snow in his hand flutter back to the ground as his smile faded. He was used to being in control of situations and knowing this one was rapidly getting out of hand only added to his confusion. It was far easier to be angry at her.

“That was a stupid, childish trick, and you know it.” His voice was silk lined with steel. “That sled popped up in the air and I saw Sara fall out first. She’s so small… For a moment, my heart stopped.”

“It was only a joke,” she answered, her voice small and childish in response to his criticism, her jaw jutting out defensively. Sara grabbed the rope to the toboggan and tried to turn it over to clean it off.

He clapped a black glove to his forehead in exasperation. “What am I going to do with you, Molly?”

She didn’t answer but stared up at him with wide eyes. He became acutely aware of the intimacy of their position as he sat squarely on her hips.