“Maybe you’ll have the most fun you’ve ever had.” His voice soft, he dragged his thumb slowly over her mouth. “And maybe you’ll want to do it again and again.”
Her heart raced away faster than a downhill skier going for gold.
She tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore him. “I’m too old to learn to ski.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
His mouth flickered at the corners. “Your age is not getting in the way.” He pulled on his gloves. “The only thing getting in the way is your mind.”
“There is nothing wrong with my mind. I like my mind.”
“I like your mind, too. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like it to shut up once in a while. Now follow me and turn when I turn. That way you won’t gain too much speed.”
She watched him with a mixture of frustration and fascination thinking that, with the exception of Walter, she’d never met anyone more stubborn. Or maybe Jackson wasn’t stubborn. Maybe he just knew what he wanted.
She shivered. Was that her?
He was right about one thing. Her mind did get in the way. It made her pick the safe route. But was that so wrong? Was it wrong to protect yourself...or sensible?
As he moved to one side, sure and confident on his skis, she had her first proper view of the slope.
“Oh, God, that’s steep! Now I understand why you were giving me the talk about facing my
fear.” Terrified, she dug her poles and skis into the slope. “The only way I’m going down that is in an ambulance.”
“There is no way to get an ambulance up here.” He was laughing. “If you fall and you’re injured, you’ll be pulled down on a toboggan by the ski patrol. It’s not the most comfortable of rides.”
“Thank you for the motivational speech.” The slope fell away beneath her, the smooth groomed surface of the snow sparkling in the bright winter sunshine. The contrast of snowy mountains against blue sky would have taken her breath away if she hadn’t already been holding it in sheer terror.
Far below, through the veil of trees, she could see the village nestling in the valley and to the right the lake and the Snow Crystal cabins. “It’s comforting to know that if I fall I might just land straight in my bed.”
Maddeningly relaxed, he slid away from her. “Ski, Kayla.”
“Ski, Kayla,” she muttered under her breath. “Can I climb back up to the top? I’ll sacrifice my nails if that’s what it takes to get me back up to the lift.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Trust your skis. And me.”
He had no idea what he was asking.
“I’m not big on trust.”
But he was.
He was a man who trusted family bonds to hold. She’d only ever seen them snap. “We’re incompatible.”
“Ski, Kayla, or I’ll carry you down, and that will make you dizzy.”
She was already dizzy, but she let the skis glide, tentatively at first, heard a soft rushing sound and felt the cold air on her cheeks. Her stomach knotted in terror and then she saw him turn, still watching her over his shoulder. She faltered, postponing the moment when she’d have to commit to going straight down the fall line. And then she saw a little girl no more than four years old careering down the mountain with her daddy and remembered what Jackson had said about her mind being the only thing getting in her way.
Holding her breath, she turned, ignoring the instinct that told her she was committing suicide. For a split second her speed increased, and she forced herself to concentrate, forced herself to remember what he’d told her about her weight and the edges of her skis and then she was turning and traversing the slope behind him.
Turn, glide, turn, glide—they went down the mountain, gradually increasing speed, and fear turned to enjoyment and then exhilaration. All worries left her mind as she focused.
There was a sense of peace that came from being out in the mountains, surrounded by people having fun. Her own smile stayed on her face right up until the moment she realized Jackson had stopped and she was going to crash into him.
He caught her easily, stopped her from plowing into the snow heaped at the side of the mountain restaurant, but her ski flew off and they both ended up in a tangled heap.