Mistletoe in Maine (6 page)

“Looks like,” Paul said.

“Wow, they’re good!”

“When you’re a kid, you don’t worry about the danger,” Beth chimed in.

“Danger?”

Beth adjusted her grip on her poles. “Normal stuff. There are always a few accidents every year. Some are worse than others.”

“Thanks, Beth,” Paul said tightly.

Carol’s eyes widened as they approached the top of the slope. She obviously wasn’t prepared for the fact that she had to ski out of her chair.

“You mean, just like
that
?” she asked with a gasp, surveying the others ahead of them easily dismounting and skiing downhill. Her gaze trailed the empty lift chairs in horror, noting the seats had dropped out of them and dangled freely during their descent to release collected snow. “You’re kidding me, right?” Carol asked in a panic. She turned to Paul and then to Beth. “Please tell me that you’re kidding me?”

“Take it nice and easy,” Paul said, slipping out ahead of her and then pulling off to the side at the top of a steep precipice.

Since she was frozen in place, Beth gave her a little shove. “Take care with your exit!”

Suddenly, Carol’s whole life flashed before her, and it was all coated in white. “Oh! Whoa!” She yelped as Beth whizzed past her in a puff of powder, and her skis took on a mind of their own. Carol held on to the sidebar of the chairlift for dear life, not wanting to let go. But the beast was dragging her along, threatening to pull her straight off a cliff!

“Carol!” Paul called. “Look out!”

She pivoted in time to see the next seat full of passengers swinging toward her, its skiers preparing to dismount. “Arghh!” she cried, skis scrambling beneath her. Paul darted toward her as Beth halted quickly and turned their way.

“Let go!” he shouted, seconds before she was dragged off the edge.

Then, with a thunk, Carol’s back hit the ice, and she slid under a small brown shack.
Tell me I did not just do that
, she thought, staring up at the slats of the ski-patrol hut.

Paul raced to the building and peered underneath. “Are you all right?” he asked with a worried frown.

Beth’s blue-eyed gaze studied her with concern a few seconds later. “What happened?”

Carol covered her face with her hands, believing this scored as one of her most mortifying moments. “I’ll live,” she said, inchworming her way out into the open.

Paul sent Beth down ahead to check on the kids while he stayed at the top of the slope with Carol. The ski-patrol guy had just checked her out, and she appeared to be okay, merely frightened by her unnerving experience.

“I’m really sorry that happened,” Paul said as the other man resumed his post. “Nothing like that has ever—”

“It’s okay,” Carol said, stopping him. “It wasn’t really your fault.”

He heaved a breath. “I don’t know… Maybe it was. If I’d truly understood how unsteady you were—”

“Wait a minute!” Her eyes flashed. “I’m not unsteady!”

“On the slopes, I meant.”

“I think I can handle those too.” She drew a deep breath. “It’s just that before, I wasn’t ready.” Carol was so embarrassed by all the trouble she’d caused, she couldn’t have things getting worse. The best thing to do would be to forge right ahead with the rest of this day, as if this horrifying episode had never happened.

“Maybe I should go back to the hut and have him arrange a transport down.”

Carol straightened herself on her skis. “I wouldn’t hear of it.”

He stared at her, clearly perplexed.

“I just got off to a false start. That’s all. Now I’m ready.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Sure I’m sure.” She beamed at him with what she hoped was a bright, confident smile. The truth was, Carol was tired of people telling her what she couldn’t do. Jim had thought it was ridiculous she was taking her kids skiing in Maine, had he? Well, she could show him and his little beach bunny too. Not only that, she could show herself! After all, how hard could it be? She edged toward the top of the steep slope and looked down, praying she wouldn’t faint from the altitude.

“How high up are we?” she asked as little lights darted before her eyes.

“I’m calling for backup.”

“Oh no, you don’t!” she said. And then quite decisively, she thought, she took off. Suddenly, she was going—really going—so much faster than she ever could have imagined.
“Oh my Gawd!”
she wailed in terror as bright flashes of white tore past her along with dark patches of trees and tiny spots she took to be other people.

“Carol!” Paul called, chasing after her. “Hoe plow!”

Hoe plow?
She had no clue what that was, but it sounded dirty. How dare Paul think of pole dancing right now when his guest’s life—
her life—
was on the line!

He skied up beside her, somehow magically in control of his own rapid descent. “Snow plow, Carol! Push your heels out sideways!”

Snow plow!
Of course, she knew all along what he’d meant. She did it at once, and it seemed to work too. At least a tad in slowing her down. But wait! What was that? Paul had somehow gotten past her and was now directly in front of her. What on earth was he doing? He slowed himself further, but she couldn’t break her speed any more than she already had.

“Coming through!” she cried with a wail, beelining straight for his back. The next thing she knew, she’d slammed into his broad, solid frame with a
thwunk
and dropped her poles. He reached back to steady her against him with one arm as he continued to stabilize their descent with the other.

“Just hang on to me!” he ordered as wind, snow and nature swirled about them.

Carol looked down to find her skis had nestled inside both of his and that they were now somehow locked together.

“Don’t look now,” he shouted. “Here comes a mogul!”

“
What?
”

“Hold tight!” he commanded, seconds before they went airborne.

Carol shrieked as her skis left the slope and dangled in midair. In a flash, they were down again and careening toward the base of the hill, her arms laced firmly around him as her heart beat wildly.

Once they were clearly out of harm’s way and slowing to a halt at the bottom, he called over his shoulder with a grin. “Having fun yet?”

“Uh-huh,” she said lamely, exhilarated yet depleted at once. “Just don’t make me do that again.”

He gave a hearty laugh, then dragged them to stop, where the crowd that had gathered burst into applause. “Sorry folks,” he told them, holding up a pole. “No encores today!”

Chapter Six

Paul brought Carol a mug of coffee as she sat wrapped in a blanket by the fire. “I can’t believe it,” she said, still a tad ashen. “I was flying! Up in the air, like a bird!”

Beth settled herself in a nearby chair and studied Carol sympathetically. “Some people take longer to get the hang of it than others.”

Paul sat beside Carol on the sofa. “It was an adventure,” he said with a grin. “Frankly, the best one I’ve had…in a long time.”

“Really?” Carol asked with surprise.

She looked so sweet bundled up that way, Paul had to fight the urge to reach out and hug her. But that would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it? Hugging one of the guests? Even if it had been an unexpected treat being linked together on the slopes, there was no indication Carol would be eager to repeat it. And just because it had felt like heaven having her arms around him, that didn’t mean he longed for her to do it again. Besides, she’d been in a fit of panic, desperation, and he’d merely been her appointed protector. There clearly had been nothing romantic about their exchange. Not that Paul was courting romance at the moment. Far from it. Beth eyed him in an odd sort of way that made him wonder if she’d guessed what he’d been thinking.

Velma entered, dressed for outdoors. “Did you kids have fun on the slopes?” she asked as Zach trailed her in a heavy down parka and boots.

“Mom only went down once,” Ashley proclaimed, arriving from the kitchen with her cocoa.

Will joined the group with his own steaming mug. “But it was once to remember.”

Zach and Velma exchanged puzzled glances.

“Where are you two headed?” Paul asked his mom.

“We thought we’d go into town,” Zach offered.

Velma smiled brightly. “Rent a couple of snowmobiles.”

“Sounds great,” Beth said.

“The lake is really ripe for riding,” Paul agreed.

“You two have fun!” Carol called after them.

The next few days passed with more fun, yet less harrowing, family adventures. Carol and her kids explored the small town, taking in its quaint shops and eateries, and they’d even gone ice skating—and built a snowman or two. Little by little, they’d all become more acquainted with the others, especially Paul. He was always around with a helpful tidbit or the offer of some small comfort. He was a kind and considerate man, the sort Carol could find herself getting used to. He was exceedingly competent too, and appeared to have a really good relationship with Daniel. Carol’s heart felt heavy from wishing her son could have that sort of relationship with his own dad. Sadly, she realized that was unlikely to happen. Particularly if Jim continued on his course of mostly looking after himself.

She rapped lightly at Will’s door, deciding to check on him before dinner. Ashley had been happily engaged in a game of checkers with Velma by the fire, but her boy had been holed up in his room all afternoon. Despite all the fun family times they’d shared, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time in there. Then again, perhaps that was par for the course, given that he was a teenager.

Will told her to come in, and she entered to find him leaning against the fox headboard, cell phone in hand. He appeared to be texting once again.

“You’re on that thing all day long.”

“Everybody my age does it, Mom.” He cocked his head sideways. “It’s not like it’s something dirty.”

His phone buzzed again, and he checked it.

“That’s what I mean,” she went on. “It’s constant.”

“I was out of touch all morning,” he said. “There’s catching up to do.”

“With whom?”

He shrugged and tucked away the phone, which buzzed anyway. “Why do you care who I talk to?”

“Because I’m your mother,” she said firmly. “And I care about you.” She sat beside him, then added more softly. “That’s what a good parent does, Will.”

He looked pensive a moment, gloomy. “You mean, like Dad?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

Carol’s heart sank. “Oh, Will. I’m so sorry about your dad. Really I am. You don’t know how much I wish—”

“It’s not your fault.” He hung his head. “I know he always missed your birthday too.”

Tears caught in throat, but she willed her way past them to speak. “How do you know that?”

He looked up, pain streaking his eyes. “Ashley’s not old enough to remember, but I am.”

“It’s all right,” she said resolutely. “
I’m
an adult, I can take it, but you—”

He stopped her by touching her arm. “No, Mom. It’s not all right. Can’t you see? The way that Dad treated all of us wasn’t right at all. It doesn’t have to be that way. Not all guys are like that.”

Carol studied him, holding in her tears. Who was this young man on the scene, and who had taken away her little boy? “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“I’m growing up. I see things.”

“Oh? What do you see?”

He studied her for a beat. “I think Mr. Love likes you.”

She inhaled in shock. “Me? What makes you say that?”

“Come on, Mom.” His lips creased in a subtle smile. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“How’s that?”

 “I guess it’s a lot like the way I look at Amanda.”

“
Amanda?
”

Will’s cell buzzed in his pocket, and Carol finally made the connection. No wonder Will was sneaking peeks at his phone all the time. The boy had a girlfriend!

“She’s nice, Mom. Really. Don’t freak too much about it, okay? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, right. That’s what I thought,” she said. But then she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t suppose you have a picture?”

Downstairs in the foyer, Daniel approached Paul, who was doing paperwork at the front desk. On the front porch beyond them, wild winds raked the front of the house. It was Christmas Eve, and they were in for yet another storm. “Yes, son?” Paul said, setting his stack of bill receipts aside.

“Weather’s picking up out there,” Daniel said, peering through the front-door window.

“That it is,” Paul said, studying his son, who seemed to be acting slightly suspicious, though Paul couldn’t fathom why.

“So bad, in fact, that the roads might be bad driving later.”

“Which is why it’s good everyone we know has four-wheel drive.”

“Yeah, but Amy’s car is older. Not so great on the ice.”

“Amy?” Paul narrowed his eyes, wondering where this topic was going. “Just what are you getting at, Daniel?”

“Just that, with the weather being dicey and all…” The boy cleared his throat, then squared his shoulders a bit. “I was thinking it might be best if Amy slept over.”

Paul raised a hand and mimicked cleaning out his ear. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you right.”

“It will be after ten by the time we clean up dinner.”

Daniel rarely pressed him, so maybe he wasn’t prepared for the pushback. “Well then, maybe this year we can handle it without her.”

Daniel sighed, his face sagging. “I wasn’t even suggesting she stay in my room.”

“Let’s hope not.”

“Please, Dad. I want to spend some time on Christmas Eve with my best girl. If she has to drive home after we clean up dinner, we’ll get almost no time together at all. Besides, it really will be dangerous.” He pressed his palms together with a pleading look. “Her mom already said yes.”

“Her what?” Paul sputtered. He sure didn’t like the sound of this, Amy staying over upstairs. Then again, they did have an extra room, and Paul would never forgive himself if something happened to her on her way home. The truth was, Amy had become as much a part of things in their Christmas Eve tradition as their revolving door of colorful guests was. She’d become a fixture here, with her bright and cheery face and happy disposition. She was a nice girl, bright too. Paul could have picked many a worse girlfriend for his son, and he’d frankly come to care for her as well. In some ways, during these rough few years, she’d been the closest thing he’d had to a daughter.