The Ranch truck pulled into the parking area. “There heis.” Clementine waved. “There’s your skier.” Mr. Lumber reversed the horse trailer and then got out to help us unload Nutmeg. Jack was a good choice. He was young and strong, and a Rapidian. The passenger door of the truck opened, but instead of a scruffy lumberjack with a beard, a clean-shaven Nick hopped out, ski boots slung over his shoulder.
“No.” I backed up. “Not him.” I grabbed Clementine’s arm to steady myself.
“He’s an athlete, Evie. I called him this morning and told him you need a good partner. It took some convincing, but he agreed. And, he’s cute.” She winked. Clementine didn’t know our history, or have any idea about the bad blood between us.
Could this work? No. I shook my head, and then said it out loud again, “No.”
“Evie.” Nick pulled me aside. “Let me do this for you. Clementine thinks that with your riding, anyone could win this contest. According to her, all I have to do is just ‘not let go.’”
“It’s ridiculous,” I shook my arm free from his grip. “Don’t you have to be somewhere? Like anywhere but here?”
“Evie. I—”
I didn’t let Nick finish, I had to get away. Faces and colors blurred as I rushed through the crowd. The garment bag draped over my shoulder fluttered as I ran away from him.
“Evie.” He followed me to the inn’s front steps. I stopped and turned to face him.
“Nick.” I hissed through my teeth. “You lied to me.”
“I did.” His voice was soft and he seemed to be studying my boots. “I was an idiot, until I met you.”
“You fixed the game. What kind of a person does that?”
“A shitty one.” His voice trembled. “But, Evie. I changed my mind. I didn’t throw anything. I wanted to win. You have to believe me.”
It reminded me of the speech Brad had given me when hetold me he didn’t sleep with Tamara. Out of the corner of my eye, the inn’s door opened. Someone was walking toward us—the conversation had to end, and quickly. “I don’t, Nick. I don’t believe you.”
“Evie, it’s true.” It was Charlotte standing on the stairs above us. “Sorry for interrupting. I was just here making brunch reservations.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “Evie, Nick confessed to everything to Logan. Coalman was corrupt and he dragged him into this mess. Luckily, this young man woke up to what was important and changed his mind. He donated the ten thousand dollars to the Everyone Plays in Chance Rapids charity. Logan believes that he played his best yesterday, and I do too.”
“What about New York?” Even if he hadn’t thrown the game, he was still planning on bailing on me.
“I’ve decided to stay here and finish the season, and see where that takes me.”
“Why?” My vision was starting to blur.
Charlotte excused herself, leaving Nick and I on the steps to the inn.
“When I was on the ice, all I wanted was to see you in the stands. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I’ve never had a home. But here, with you and Rocky…” His voice faded but then regained its strength. “Out there on the ice with the Bobcats, I was on the home team, and I felt—at home. I’m falling in love with Chance Rapids, and…” This time his voice completely trailed off.
“Oh, Nick.” I fell into him. The garment bag dropped to the ground as his lips met mine. A horse and skier flew past, but we were oblivious to anything but each other. When we pulled apart, we both had tears in our eyes. “How about we go win this race? Clementine says it’s easy,” I said.
He picked up the garment bag. “It’s got to be easier than Wolverine Way.”
Our naïve confidenceworked in our favor. After changing into Clementine’s western outfit, Nick got into his ski boots, and we made our way to the starting line with Nutmeg.
“Are you ready?”
“Absolutely not.” He grinned. “Let’s do it.” He pulled his gloves on and grabbed the rope. “Don’t worry, Evie. I’ll never let go.”
I patted Nutmeg’s neck. “Are you ready, girl?”
The announcer called our team to the start line. I hadn’t raced barrels in years, but all of the training was deeply ingrained in my body. The crowd disappeared and the only thing ahead of me was the course, and the only thing beneath me, the horse. I clicked my tongue and shouted as Nutmeg took off.
My job was to ride, Nick’s was to hold on. And that’s what we did. I didn’t look back, my eyes were trained on the finish line. Snow flew from Nutmeg’s hooves, and the fringes of my jacket flapped as we galloped down the course. My hands held the reins loosely; it was a straight shot, and Nutmeg was the perfect horse for the job.
I waited a few extra seconds after crossing the finish line to ease up. That’s when I let myself look back.
“You’re still there!” I hopped out of the saddle onto the ground.
