Free Warm Winter Love by Constance Walker Page A

tapped her spoon against her coffee cup, oblivious to the ringing sound of the pottery. She’d conquer one thing at a time, and maybe if this battle was won, she could think about the other, more personal one, and come to some conclusions. Maybe she’d get back some of her confidence and be able to make some new choices.
    She looked at Sam and tried to laugh. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll try it.” His eyes flashed briefly, the way they did when they first met. “We’ll go there after breakfast, before I lose my nerve. After all, it’s only my life.”
    Sam frowned “Sounds like foreshadowing,” he said.
    She turned her head so that he couldn’t see the confirmation in her eyes. It was the second time that he had linked the mastery of the mountain to the events of the week. But then again, maybe he was right, maybe Devil’s Mist had something to do with her life and the way she handled it.
    She stood up. “I’ll get my skis.”
    He had called it perfectly. Magic Mountain was crowded with novices who had heard last night’s weather forecast. It was natural, then, for the accomplished skiers to seek out other runs and Devil’s Mist was the only really good one in the immediate area.
    It seemed much higher and larger than she remembered it from two seasons ago, and she understood why so many people wanted to ski it. It was the challenge of it. The thrill of it. Devil’s Mist was tricky and fast and it was a way of extending the excitement of the sport. Well, perhaps today she would conquer her old nemesis. She tightened her boots and positioned the poles on her arm. Okay, she thought. Possibly today I’ll do it. Maybe Sam will be my inspiration.
    He was waiting for her to join him, and she saw that there were only three or four other people on the lifts. “Okay, Katie,” he said, adjusting his goggles. “Let’s get on with it. It’s a perfect day for it.” He looked around. “Not even a line.” He took her arm and propelled her into a chair so that her feet and poles dangled high over the ground and she could get an overview of the vista below her.
    “Wait until you get up there.” He climbed onto the adjoining seat as he pointed up to the top. “I guarantee you the best run of the week. Be warned, Katie—you’re in for the ride of your life.”
    Katie looked down at the countryside as the lift moved slowly up the mountain. Sam was right—again. She had a moment’s panic but it subsided and she became enmeshed in the beauty of the surroundings as the lift skimmed the tops of the tall evergreens below. The panorama suddenly seemed extraordinarily serene and quiet, and as she approached the top of the mountain, all manner of sounds—shouts, laughter, and voices—were first hushed and then completely stilled. Her eyes and ears captured the scene and framed it much like a still life painted by a folk artist. Off in the distance the main Crest building now seemed frozen in time, its only sign of life the curls of black smoke streaming from its chimneys. In front of the stone-and-wood inn and on either side of it, bright splotches of color punctuated the white and gray landscape as vacationers in vivid skiwear loitered and walked in the snow.
    Katie marveled at the sight. Why hadn’t she ever looked at the valley like this before? Was it because Sam was here beside her, because he was her guide and was now making her see commonplace things in a different light? Maybe that was the reason, she thought as her fear of the mountain vanished and she concentrated on the landscape beneath her.
    “Was I right? Didn’t I tell you it was magnificent?” Sam shouted so that she could hear him above the wind. “Who would believe that the calendar says it’s spring?”
    Spring? Katie’s stomach clenched. Jason had said that it was really spring in Maryland, that it was warm and that the forsythia bushes and crocuses had already begun to blossom. She looked below her at the snow-capped shrubs and trees, and