Had Father always been so weak? Or had he become that way after Mother had left him? Because wasn’t that what had happened?—she’d finally had her fill of Father’s gambling and decided to leave him to his own fate. Maybe she’d been waiting for an excuse to go, and the failed wedding had provided her one.
Whatever the case, Mother had packed her bags and never once looked back, never once talked of returning, and never once mentioned their father. It was as if she’d wanted to put him out of their lives totally and completely. Perhaps she’d thought shehad. She probably hadn’t told Father where they were or what they were doing.
He’d been cut from their lives until Violet had sent him the telegram letting him know about Mother’s death.
Violet released another breath, a white cloud filling the air in front of her. She shouldn’t have contacted him. If she’d had any sense about her, she would have realized Mother had taken them far away from Father to protect them. But she’d been too trusting, too gullible, too easily swayed by Father’s promise to take care of them, and instead of staying away, she’d walked right back into his chaotic life and gotten tangled in his mess.
Running away to this cabin was their last option to try to break free from him.
“I’ll pay the Nobles back,” she whispered. “I vow it.” Someday, when she had her own interior designing business, she might have enough income to cover the expenses. Until then, she could only add the stealing to the list of transgressions she’d committed against Sterling and his family.
She slowed her skis and searched among the pine trees across the frozen creek. The blanket of snow on the branches was pristine, as fresh and untouched as it had been the few other times she’d been here.
Where was the cabin? Had she taken a wrong path at some point? She’d thought she knew the general route into Devil’s Glen. But what if she’d been overconfident?
“There!” came Hyacinth’s breathy call from behind her. “I see a cabin.”
Violet peered in the direction of her sister’s outstretched mittened hand. The woodland ahead blocked the view, but tucked away in a sheltered nook, the log structure was a welcome sight.
“That’s it.” Violet pushed forward again, relief giving her a burst of energy. She was a city girl and didn’t know much aboutsurviving in a cabin away from civilization. But they were also young and resourceful. They’d do just fine. At least, she prayed they would.
As she reached the embankment that led to the creek, she lifted her pole and pointed her skis down. She leaned forward and let the slick snow carry her faster. With the cold air slapping at her cheeks, she almost smiled at the memories of skiing with Sterling, how he’d stayed right beside her, watching over her and teaching her so patiently. The times skiing together had always been enjoyable. Because of the skiing? Or because she’d been with him?
The bottom of the hill came too quickly, and she turned her skis sideways to stop as Sterling had taught her. But in the next instant, her ski hit something buried beneath the snow. While one ski twisted the way she’d planned, the other went the opposite direction.
The shift happened too fast to stop, and a sharp pain ricocheted through her ankle, as if her foot were being wrenched from her body. Her leg buckled beneath her, unable to bear her weight. Even though she tried to hold herself up with her ski pole, she found herself tumbling down and tossing her bag aside.
The fall only bent her ankle all the more, and she cried out, grabbing her foot, trying to unbuckle her boot from the ski and free herself from the agonizing position.
“What’s wrong, Vi?” Cheeks flushed from the cold, Hyacinth came to a halt beside her, her eyes wide and filled with concern.
Violet couldn’t speak past the pain and clawed at her boot, needing to free her foot.
In the next instant, Hyacinth was bending down and helping her, obviously seeing the problem. She worked calmly and methodically, loosening the buckles. As she shifted the boot off the ski, the burning shot through Violet’s ankle again.
“Careful.” Violet grasped the area and tried to draw in a breath. “It’s hurt. Badly.”
Hyacinth gentled her touch, lifting Violet’s foot more carefully. “Does it feel broken?”
“I don’t know how to tell.”
Hyacinth brushed her fingers lightly along Violet’s stocking and then across her boot. “It’s swelling already.”
Violet’s whole leg was beginning to throb, and she felt suddenly weak, almost sick to her stomach.
Her sister glanced in the direction of the cabin, still at least two hundred feet away, across the creek and surrounded by trees. “We need to get to the cabin and take your boot off.”
Hyacinth unbuckled the other ski, then Violet tried to push up while Hyacinth assisted her. As Violet finally stood on one leg with Hyacinth bracing her up, the dizziness and pain were almost too much to bear.
“I can’t move.” Violet couldn’t imagine even standing on her foot, much less walking the rest of the distance. As deep as the snow was, she’d never make it by favoring her good leg, not even if Hyacinth helped bear her weight.
Hyacinth peered around. She’d discarded her hood, probably from the exertion of their trip. Her dark hair was in a single braid like Violet’s, and strands had come loose, brushing her cheeks. At the moment, she’d never looked more beautiful. And innocent.
A surge of protectiveness swelled within Violet again. Father was a monster for even thinking about giving Hyacinth over to men who would pay to hold her, manhandle her, and lust over her.
Hyacinth cocked her head at the low branches of a nearby spruce. “I’ll break off a limb or two. You can get on like a sled, and I’ll pull you the distance to the cabin.”
Would that work? They had to give it a try.
