She felt the change in his mood. “He was a good man.”
“He was a lousy businessman. He was trapped in a life he didn’t want, and instead of dealing with it he let a lot of people down. Hurt them.”
“Does your mom ever talk about it?”
“Never. She’s nothing but loyal. She loved him, faults and all.”
“Isn’t that what love really is? Loving someone as they are. If you want someone to be different, how can that be love?” Brenna watched as a bird swooped between the branches, showering snow across the forest floor.
They were alone in this wintery wilderness, wrapped by the cold and the endless white, with only the breathtaking beauty of the forest for company.
“Without Jackson, she would have lost her home. So would Grams and Gramps. Sometimes it’s hard not to let the bad memories overtake the good.” His rough confession, his unusual admission of inner struggle, made Brenna catch her breath.
Why was it that whenever he hurt, she hurt, too?
It was his pain, and yet it felt like hers.
It had been the same after his accident. The same after his father had died.
Whatever he felt, she felt, as if they were connected by an invisible wire that transmitted his emotions straight into her with no filter
.
“I always think of your father when I’m skiing in the glades.” She chose her words carefully, hoping to heal not hurt. “We skied here so often. I can still hear his voice telling me to look at the gap between the trees, not the trees themselves.”
“I think of him here, too.”
Breaking her own rule, she put her hand on his arm. “There was so much good. He was fun. Adventurous, and he encouraged you to be adventurous. There wasn’t a single day when he wasn’t proud of you, when he didn’t encourage you. He was a skilled outdoorsman, and he saw those same skills in you. It was your dad who taught me to ski, and he was brilliant.”
“His idea of teaching was to stand at the top of a vertical slope and say ‘follow me.’”
“Exactly. My parents never let me do anything remotely risky. He encouraged you to pursue your dreams.”
“And he pursued his own. A little too enthusiastically.” He drew breath. “I don’t usually talk about this. I guess because you knew him—”
“I loved him,” Brenna said simply, and Tyler turned his head.
His blue eyes fixed on hers, and she caught her breath because what they shared in that moment was intimate and deeply personal.
“And he loved you. He thought you were the coolest girl on the slopes.”
“I envied you so much because you had a dad who really understood your passion. Shared it.” Shaken by the strength of her feelings, she let go of his arm. “I tried to talk to my mother about it. I tried to explain how it felt to surf down soft powdery snow while the sun turns the forest and mountains from snowy-white to burned-orange. I tried to explain how when I’m skiing, all my problems vanish, how I can’t think of anything else but my skis and the mountain, how it clears my head and makes my heart feel free.”
“She didn’t understand?”
“She delivered a lecture on how education would be my ticket out of this place.” She’d never understood that Brenna would have been happy to ski the mountains around Snow Crystal for the rest of her life. That she hadn’t wanted that ticket. “Everything I ever wanted is right here, and she never understood that.”
His gaze was fixed on her face. “What is it you want?”
“The mountains. This life.” Tyler O’Neil.
Careful not to reveal that part, she dipped her head and poked her ski pole in the deep snow. “I guess I’m lucky. Most people don’t get this close to living their dream. But I envied you that day. I imagined you going back and sitting round your kitchen table telling everyone about it. I bet Elizabeth made you hot chocolate.”
“Probably. I’m guessing you didn’t get hot chocolate?”
“I got a lecture on being responsible and how easy it was to sabotage a life by making bad choices.”
He gave her a slow, wicked smile. “And let me guess, I was one of those bad choices she was warning you about.”