The Problem Child (Emerson Pass Historicals 4) - Page 32

“We have to trust that Theo will do what God put him here to do. Find the answers to questions. He’ll figure out what’s wrong with her. I truly believe it to be so.”

“Addie told me I should jump,” Cym said. “She said it was for all the girls who couldn’t or wouldn’t.”

“She’s right. You know that.”

“Do I?”

“You do,” I said.

We sat for a moment, listening to the crackle of the fire. The aroma of coffee wafted up from the pot and mingled with the woodsmoke. “What do you think your purpose is?” Cymbeline asked.

“Encouraging you to be as bold as you want to be?” I asked it as a question even though I knew there was no answer.

She nudged my ribs with an elbow. “For your sake, I hope that’s not true.”

I drew in a deep breath, taking in the sweet smell of her hair. “If it were, I’d be satisfied. To be by your side while you conquer the world would be more than enough for me. I’m a simple man, Cym. For better or worse, my dreams will be forever wrapped up in yours. That is, if you’ll allow them to be.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“True enough,” I said.

“When I woke today, you’re the person I wanted to talk to most. Isn’t that strange?”

I smiled to myself. Not strange. Glorious.

After our talk,Cymbeline seemed somewhat rejuvenated and suggested we head out to the slopes as soon as the snowplow had come through. I agreed, eager to distract her.

A little after nine, Cymbeline and I stood on the patio of the lodge, taking in the beauty of the freshly fallen snow. When Flynn had first built the resort area, he’d put three ski runs down the middle of the mountain. Last year, inspired by the games in France, he’d added the ski jump, which consisted of the run itself along with the wooden platform. Steps from the bottom of the mountain led up to the starting area, whereas the other runs had pulley ropes.

Flynn came out, greeting us with a friendly wave. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

“We came to ski,” Cymbeline said. “You might be able to keep me from the competition but not the mountain itself.”

“We’re not officially open, you know,” Flynn said. “But I have no intention of keeping my sister from the slopes.”

“Why aren’t you open?” Cymbeline frowned at her brother. “The snow’s perfect.”

“We plan on opening the runs tomorrow. Phillip wanted to give the pulley machinery a good check before people came.”

“You don’t mind if we try out the run?” I asked.

“Be my guests. Let me know what you think of the spectator stands we made.” Flynn gestured toward the wooden platforms perched on either side of the jumping slope.

“Do you really think people will come?” Cymbeline asked.

“That’s what we’re hoping for,” Flynn said. “I’ve put advertisements in all the major papers across the country.”

“Where will people stay?” Cymbeline asked. “The lodge can’t accommodate big crowds.”

“They’ll stay in Denver or Louisville and come up for the event,” Flynn said. “It’s going to be great business for Emerson Pass. Papa will be pleased.”

“He’s already pleased with you,” Cymbeline said.

“I wonder sometimes,” Flynn said.

I studied my friend for a moment. Was that what all this was about? Trying to please his father?

“I don’t know why you think you have all this to prove,” Cymbeline said.

Flynn tugged on her hat. “Are you still mad at me?”

Cymbeline shrugged as if she’d forgotten all about their argument. “Doesn’t matter. As long as I can ski all winter then I don’t really care.”

“The mountain is yours.” Flynn squinted up at the sky. “I’m going out to see Addie later this morning. Papa came by earlier. He and Mama didn’t sleep much last night. He didn’t look too good.”

“None of us slept much.” Cymbeline’s voice wobbled.

“Theo will cure her,” Flynn said. “I’m not worried.”

“I am, but things always go your way, so maybe I should take your cavalier attitude.” Cymbeline looked down at her boots.

“I refuse to go down the worry hole. It does no one any good.” Flynn scratched his neck, obviously irritated. “Enjoy your morning. I should go.”

He disappeared into the dining room, where staff were setting up tables for this evening’s dinner.

“Let’s go,” Cym said. “I don’t want to think about him today.”

“Lead the way.”

The snow was as soft as powder today. Carrying our skis on our shoulders, we started up the steep steps to the platform from which she would begin her speedy descent to the jumping-off point. Built into the side of the mountain, the wooden structure jutted out a good twenty meters before a steep drop-off.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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