“I panicked. I struggled. That makes it worse, you know? You wriggle deeper. You try to scream, which is bad. And then you realize whatever breath is in your lungs will most likely be the last one you ever take.”
His eyes shuttered as he took her hand. “How long?”
“Not very, but it felt like a year until Dad got to me. He says it was seconds. It seemed like forever. He dug and dug, found my face, cleared my mouth, flipped me, and I came up like a fish. Everyone was on me, shouting, so grateful, and I was…done. With skiing, not life.” She looked down at her hands. “I couldn’t get back on skis. Not that season. Not the next. And then it became a fact about me, like my brown eyes and dark hair. Nicole doesn’t ski.”
“Therapy?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “My parents talked about it but I just…no. I didn’t want to ski, but I didn’t need counseling. Well, maybe I did, but I never had it.”
“Tree wells are no joke,” he said, full authority in that statement. “They’re monsters that look like pillows. I’ve pulled probably seven people out. I’ve seen someone…” He just shook his head and she knew exactly what he was going to say.
He’d seen someone die. Because it happened, just not to Nicole.
“I’m really glad you came back out,” Cameron said finally. “Because the world wouldn’t be as nice a place without you.”
She smiled at the compliment, turning to him, wanting to be deeply honest, but not really understanding why.
“You know why I skied last week?” she asked. “I made a deal with my dad when I went to see him in Vermont over Thanksgiving weekend. If he’d come back and run our sleigh rides, I’d ski with him again. He did—and reunited with my mom—which was kind of my secret dream.”
“It worked,” he said. “And you skied.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I put on skis and fell on my backside twice—which I expected but it’s okay. I did it and my dad was happy.”
“And you went again with Bri, right?”
She nodded. “I thought maybe I’d do better without Flying Jack. But I just wiped out.”
“Would you go again?” he asked, his voice just gentle enough make her heart do silly things.
She didn’t answer right away, but held his beautiful blue gaze.
“I did a back-country run a week ago,” she said. “After my horse went down a slope at our lodge and I needed to get him.”
He drew back, impressed. “You did? And you have a horse?”
She nodded. “It was a breakthrough, though. A big one.”
“Enough that you’d go to Deer Valley with me tomorrow?”
She nodded slowly, not committing but clearly on her way.
“You can’t be much safer than with a patrol,” he added, as if she needed a push. “I know the very most gentle runs at DV, I know how to pace a beginner, and I…” He smiled. “I’d really like to ski with you, Nicole.”
Realizing that they were still holding gloved hands, she squeezed his fingers. “You know what, Cameron? I will go with you. If you promise to take care of me.”
“I promise.” He looked right into her eyes and she melted like all this snow in the sun. “We can go down—” He frowned and fished out his phone, mumbling an apology as he looked at the screen. “I gotta take this. Hang on.”
He stood, biting off his glove to tap the phone and put it to his ear, stepping a few feet away. “What’s up?”
She looked ahead, not wanting to eavesdrop.
But he stayed close enough that she could catch the unmistakable lilt of a woman’s voice on the other end.
Cameron’s voice dropped, almost a murmur. She caught fragments and a sense of concern. “…yeah, I know…soon…” and then, more clearly, “…I’d better come back, just to be safe. No, no, it’s fine.”
He returned a minute later, stuffing the phone into his pocket. His easy grin was gone, replaced by tension. “I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
Nicole blinked. “Oh. Is everything okay?”
