“You can pick it up next week in the pass office,” she said as she cut the nylon tie that attached his ski pass to his jacket. “That is, if this is your first offense. Second offense means you’re done for the season.”
“That’s not fair!” the boy wailed. Up ahead, his brother was giving Scott grief. Lily skied up to join her boss.
“I got the brother’s pass,” she said.
“You people are going to hear from our dad,” the older brother said. He was red-faced, frost forming on the nascent moustache above his thin upper lip.
“He’s welcome to give me a call,” Scott said. “I’ll tell him how you were trespassing in closed terrain and endangering yourown life and the lives of others.” He pocketed the boy’s pass. “Now ski down and go home.”
They watched the two boys head down the run. Scott looked at the rocks above the run. “We need to go up there and restring the ropes.”
“Easier to ski over from Daisy Chain,” she said, naming the run that led above and behind them.
“Then let’s do it.”
They spent the next hour restringing the ropes, closing a narrow section of a run where the snow had melted off to expose rock, and redirecting skier traffic away from a lift that was temporarily closed due to a malfunction. Working with Scott wasn’t as bad as Lily had feared. He didn’t try to tell her how to do her job, and he was pleasant with the public. When two girls skied up to them, he stopped what he was doing and gave them his full attention. “Do you have any trading cards?” one, who looked to be about eight and wore a helmet with bunny ears, asked.
“Of the dogs,” her friend with a bright purple helmet asked.
“Here you go.” Scott offered cards featuring Hunter at the wheel of a snowmobile.
The girls squealed in delight, and squealed again when Lily passed over cards featuring Shelby’s photo. “Where are the dogs?” purple helmet asked.
“They’re resting up,” Scott said. “Running around in the snow wears them out.”
“Give them kisses for me,” rabbit ears said. She hugged the cards to her chest. “I just love dogs.”
“So do I,” Scott said, his grin almost as big as the girls’.
Seeing him like this stunned Lily. “Who knew you were such a softy,” she teased.
His smile faded. “Yeah, well, I only wish the rest of our job was as easy as interacting with kids.” He checked his watch.“I’ve got a meeting I need to get to. You should check back in at the ski patrol hut.”
“See you later,” she said, and skied away. But she stopped at the top to look back at him—a tall, graceful figure gliding down the slope. Working with him this morning hadn’t been so bad. He was good at his job, and good with people. If only he could see her as an ally, not an imposition.
Chapter Two
The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity, from marking hazards to tending to injured skiers. By four o’clock, all the lifts on the mountain shut down. Scott and Lily released the dogs from the kennels and closed the patrol shack for the night, switching off lights and the heater and locking the door. At four forty-five, they began their sweep of the runs, making sure everyone was cleared off the mountain before dark.
Lily and Shelby skied May Day, a long, wide run that ran for over a mile, all the way to the base area. This was her favorite time of day, when they had the snow all to themselves. Shelby, rested up and full of puppy energy, ran ahead of Lily, legs stretched out, puffs of snow flying up around her at each landing. Occasionally she stopped and rolled in the snow, the picture of pure joy.
Lily made long, sweeping turns, checking both sides of the run for any skiers or snowboarders who might have fallen or simply stopped to rest. Across the mountain, all the lift chairs hung empty and still, and lights began to bathe the ski village at the base in a golden glow, in anticipation of growing dusk.
Back at the base, she stowed her gear in her locker and fed Shelby her supper. A national pet food supplier donated a diet designed for active dogs to the ski patrol, so whenever they were working, meals were covered. While Shelby ate, Lily swapped her uniform for leggings and a tunic sweater. Then she grabbed her day pack and parka and headed for the shuttle stop. At herapartment, she transferred Shelby and her belongings to her car and set out again.
Fifteen minutes later, Lily was at the gate to the Endicotts’ property. She lowered her car window and leaned out to press the intercom button. “Hi, it’s Lily Alton,” she said.
“Jackson’s waiting for you,” a gruff but not unfriendly voice said. Mike Swanson was Denny Endicott’s right-hand man. The title on his business cards said senior analyst, but after Jackson’s mother passed away when the boy was three, Mike had taken over as a kind of household manager/chief adviser to the busy executive. The two had apparently known each other since college. He was actually the person who had hired Lily to be Jackson’s nanny six years ago.
The gate swung open, and Lily guided the Subaru up the winding drive and parked in a slot to the left of the garage. Shelby bounded out after Lily and ran to the open back door, where Mike waited. He was only a couple of inches taller than Lily’s own five foot six, but he had the muscular build of a wrestler and the round face and bald head of a cherub. He bent to pet the dog, then looked up at Lily. “Denny said he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to meet you. He’s entertaining some important clients.”
“You aren’t going with him?” she asked. Mike played a big role in the operation of Endicott Industries, also.
“I have a meeting of my own tonight.”
The door from the kitchen to the rest of the house burst open and Jackson rushed in. “Shelby!” he cried, and dropped to his knees to embrace the dog.
Shelby, tail wagging exuberantly, licked Jackson’s face while the boy giggled wildly.
