“There should be a stop on this lift before it gets all the way to the top,” Oliver said. “A little snow bank that we can get off at. I can show you some of the techniques my coach taught me. If you’re still up for it.”
David looked around. He didn’t see Katy anywhere and assumed that she was preoccupied with one of the suitors David still actively disliked. It was a beautiful day, too beautiful to spend waiting around. Really, Oliver wasn’t terrible company. And maybe this was the fastest way to learn to ski and impress Katy.
“Okay,” David replied. “Let’s go.”
They skied down to the place where the lifts turned to head up the mountain, and David followed Oliver’s lead, bending at the knees and allowing one of the unstopping metal chairs to scoop him up and carry him up and away.
Gently swaying back and forth, his legs dangling in space, David found himself enjoying the view from the lift. Northern Lorria was mountainous, and every mountain was blanketed with bright white snow. From so high up, he could see vast expanses of untouched wilderness, thick with Christmassy pines, and he felt peaceful and content looking over everything. But as the lift continued up the mountain, he started to worry.
“Shouldn’t we be getting off soon?” he asked Oliver, noticing that the mountain grew steeper the higher they climbed.
“Er, yes,” Oliver replied. “But I’m not seeing a midway drop-off.”
David looked straight down. It was a long fall to the mountain below, and his stomach clenched. They were getting quite high now.
“That’s all right,” Oliver said. “We can ride the lift back down the mountain.”
“Okay,” David said. At least he wouldn’t be thrust into a situation that he couldn’t handle. But as the lift reached the top, a mechanical grinding suddenly struck fear into him. And, by the look of it, Oliver, too.
“Uh-oh,” Oliver said. The lift slowly ground to a halt just as they reached the top of the mountain.
David looked up at the suspended track. It wasn’t moving at all anymore. What if it had broken down? So much for that ski lift maintenance Katy talked about!
“Don’t worry,” Oliver said, thrusting himself down a couple of feet to the snowy ground. “I’ll ski down and get some help. You stay here.”
But David dropped off the lift. Oliver looked at him in shock.
“I really don’t recommend that. I saw moguls—those are the ski bumps you go over—in a few bits going down. Not to mention how steep this track is. It’s too advanced. Just wait here, and we’ll either get the lift going again or someone can bring a snowmobile up for you.”
David pictured the scenarios. What if fixing the lift wasn’t an easy task? He couldn’t bear the thought of having to be rescued in front of Katy, her parents, and the suitors vying for her affections. How embarrassing! No, he had to get himself down. How hard could it be? He knew pizza to slow down and French fries to speed up. And maybe it would be the surest way to learn. A trial-by-fire situation.
“I don’t know,” David said. “I think it’ll be all right. Katy said the conditions are good for wipe-outs. And how many could I have on a straight run down the mountain?”
Oliver cocked an eyebrow. “A lot. Are you sure? I can stay with you and try to help, but I really think you should just wait here and let me get someone.”
But David had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to start out this competition in last place. And think how impressed Katy would be when she saw him skiing down the mountain unassisted, a natural!
David pointed his skis toward the bottom of the mountain, making sure to keep them pointed so he wouldn’t go too fast.
“We’ve got this, mate,” he said confidently. Then he straightened his skis for speed. “French fries!”
37
Katy
“You’re quite the skier,” Victor said, his deep voice heavy with his romantic French accent.
Well, it would’ve been romantic, if Katy had been interested. Instead, all she could think about was her brief but fun time on the bunny run with David. She needed to hurry and get back to him. Besides, the lift was down again. So now she wouldn’t get side-tracked by any other suitors who needed an escort. Like she was going to fall for that tired line again.
“Thank you, Victor,” Katy replied. She skied to a stop, turning her skis to the side and spraying a dusting of fresh powder. “This is the mouth of that trail I was telling you about. It’s the best double black run we have.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be available to accompany me, would you?” Victor asked, stopping beside Katy and looking at her, his eyes intense.
Katy had to admit: Victor was quite handsome. He was sultry and severe in a way that Katy might have found irresistible if she wasn’t so preoccupied. She’d taken him up on the ski lift, scooting away every time he tried to get closer, and they had made their way about a quarter of the way down the slope and over the worst of the moguls. Now they were standing beneath the still ski lift, staring at a small pathway through the tree line that Katy knew well. It was a notoriously difficult run, filled with zigs and zags, drops and bumps, only a narrow breadth from the trees all the way down. They’d nicknamed it “the gauntlet.” It was her favorite trail.
But David was still waiting for her, and Katy knew she’d been gone too long already. Victor had seen to that. He was a master at drawing out moments, letting seconds tick by before responding to questions, moving slowly to keep Katy there longer. And all the while standing very close to Katy. Much too close for her comfort. He was tall, raven-haired, and steely-eyed, and, more than a few times, she caught herself feeling nervous in a way that she wasn’t used to. She felt like an actress in a cheesy soap opera, paired up with the half-villainous heartthrob. But despite what her parents had hoped for, Katy wasn’t quite so easy to seduce. And her heart was somewhere else.
“I really should get back, Victor. It would be rude to keep my friend waiting.”
“So he is only a friend?” Victor asked, moving too close to Katy once again. She took a side-step back with her skis.
How was she supposed to answer that? It felt like a trick question. Victor had probably sensed that Katy saw David as more than a friend, and now he was betting on the fact that she would get tangled up in the semantics, since Katy and David were clearly not together—unless they were hiding something. Oh, he’s good.
But how to respond? She didn’t want to lie and say she and David were more than friends when they weren’t. Besides, she still wasn’t even sure that David wanted that from her, although she had her suspicions. On the other hand, she couldn’t claim that they were just friends either, could she? After everything they’d been through, and with the deep longing that Katy felt toward him? If she said that, it’d only encourage Victor to try harder.
Ugh. Well, you have to say something!
Katy opened her mouth, still trying to form her thoughts, when the familiar whizzing sound of a skier hit her ears. She looked over in relief to see Cassie.
“Hey!” Cassie said brightly. Then, looking at Victor, she added in a more formal tone, “Count Victor of Burgundy.”
“Just Victor,” he replied with a small bow.
Cassie smiled and turned back to Katy. “Sucks about the lift. Glad I got up here before it went down.”
“Yeah, my parents just need to replace the whole thing by now. It’s probably twenty years old. But I bet they’ve already called the maintenance team out to work on it.”
Cassie nodded. “Yeah, it usually comes back up pretty quickly. So how did things go with David? He must’ve been a fast learner.”
“Well, he’s learning, let’s put it that way,” Katy replied with a wink. “I left him on the bunny run to show Victor the gauntlet. I’m leaving now to go back there.” And thank you for the unintentional rescue!
Cassie furrowed her brow. “But I saw David going up the lift.”
“Maybe he got tired of waiting and decided to check out the view,” Victor offered, se
izing an opportunity. “In which case, you’re now available to accompany me.”
Katy gave Cassie a look, out of Victor’s line of sight, that communicated her annoyance. Victor might have been sexy and intense, but he definitely wasn’t as stimulating as he thought he was.
“Maybe he’s right. David might have wanted to see the view,” Cassie replied, trying to suppress a giggle at Katy’s predicament. “But, I mean, I saw him not too long before the lift stopped. So he could’ve gotten stuck.”
Katy’s stomach flipped. Getting stuck on a ski lift was no joke. At certain points along the trail, a fall back down to the ground might be fatal. And inexperienced skiers were at the most risk of taking an unnecessary jump, since they tended to think that the snow would offer a gentle landing.
Cassie must’ve noticed the sudden fear in her friend’s eyes. “Don’t worry! He wasn’t alone. The Duke of Esserby was with him.”
“Duke Oliver?” Katy asked, confused. That didn’t make sense. What would Oliver and David have been doing together on the lift? “Well, regardless, we need to get back up the mountain to help them. Either they’re stuck on the lift, or they’re stuck at the top of the mountain.”
“Maybe they’re skiing down?” Cassie asked.
Katy looked up the mountain, but a bend in the slope, lined by trees, kept her from seeing all the way to the top. “No way David could make it. I’m going to get back down to the snowmobile to go find them.” She looked at Cassie. “Can you go make sure the maintenance team was called?”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry! I bet they’re fine,” Cassie said.
Katy had already pushed off and was hurtling at breakneck speed down the mountain, flying over the moguls with ease. Surely David knew better than to try to ski down. And hopefully Oliver had told him as much! The slope from the top of the mountain might’ve been wide, but it wasn’t meant for beginners. One wrong move or bad wipe-out could send a person careening off the east side of the mountain, through a thin tree line, and down hundreds of feet.
Surely he wouldn’t try anything so stupid! He’s a Harvard student, for goodness’ sake!
Still, as inexperienced with men as she was, Katy knew that they tended to do dumb things when they felt the need to impress each other. So she skied even faster down the mountain, pushing herself as fast as she could, hoping she’d make it back up in time.
When she reached the bunny run, Katy tore her skis from her boots and leapt onto the snowmobile. Despite what Cassie had seen, she’d hoped maybe David would still be right there, like he’d said he would be, but when she didn’t see him her heart began to beat even faster.
The snowmobile roared to life underneath her, and Katy gunned it forward and up the mountain. It wasn’t easy work to get the heavy machine up some of the steeper and bumpier portions of the long run, and the journey went slower than she would’ve liked. As Katy struggled, she tried not to imagine sweet, possibly stupid David hitting a mogul too fast and flying through the trees and off the mountain.
Her fears echoed over and over in her head, every scenario more desperate, until, halfway up the mountain, she spotted him, not skiing, but sitting immobile on the run. For a moment her heart jumped, wondering how badly hurt he could be—but as she neared him, she could see that, though he was covered in snow and looking abashed, David was very much alive. And Oliver was with him—along with Victor, who’d made it here already.
Katy braked the snowmobile hard and turned to David angrily. “David! What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t, but don’t worry. We’ve already established this,” he said. His skis were off, one of them broken entirely in half, and he looked up at Katy through snowy hair and offered her a humble, apologetic grin.
At that Katy couldn’t help but smile back, feeling her anger melt away at the realization that he was safe and sound. Though probably incredibly embarrassed—which served him right, in this case.
“It’s my fault, really,” Oliver offered, sitting beside David on the powdery snow. “I thought we might find an intermediate tower before we got all the way to the top. And then I wasn’t counting on the lift going out of commission.”
“Well, you should’ve made him stay at the top and come down to get assistance, then,” Katy said indignantly, turning on Oliver. If the duke was actually an advanced skier, he should’ve known better.
“He tried,” David said. “I’m the moron here. Not Oliver. He was kind enough to try to keep me from wiping out a hundred times. He failed, but at least he tried.” David gave another small grin, and Oliver laughed good-naturedly.
How could someone so smart act so dumb?
“Well, now that you’re here, Katerina, we should be all right,” Victor said. He offered a hand to David and pulled him up. Oliver deftly stood on his own, keeping his skis on.
“I’m sorry about the ski,” David added, looking down at his broken equipment. “If it’s any consolation, it got me almost as well as I got it.”
“I don’t care about that,” she replied. “I’m just happy that you’re okay.”
Victor and Oliver offered David assistance to the snowmobile, and David wearily pulled himself onto it. Katy situated herself in front of him and turned the vehicle back on before turning to the count and the duke.
“Thank you both for your help,” she said. She dipped her head in a little bow, and Victor and Oliver returned the gesture. Then she hit the accelerator and sped away.
The ride was too loud for any conversation to take place, and Katy felt that David might’ve needed some time to catch his breath anyway. She knew from personal experience how tiring getting down the mountain was, even for a great skier, so David must’ve been positively exhausted. His tall frame drooped behind her, leaning into her back. He didn’t speak until the snowmobile slowed at the bottom of the slope, but just his closeness, the heat radiating from his torso pressed against her back, wordlessly ignited something primal inside of Katy. He certainly is sexy, even if he can act dumb.
“Perhaps I trusted your training too much,” he finally said, his voice furtive, but laughing.
Katy cast a venomous look over her shoulder.
“I’m kidding!” David quickly replied. “Really, I’m sorry about that rescue mission.”
“Are you hurt at all?” Katy asked. A broken ski sometimes meant broken bones, or at least sprains and contusions.
“Nothing but my pride,” David replied lightheartedly.
Katy looked back at him with a little grin. “Serves you right.”
He chuckled. “Can’t argue with that.”
Katy stopped the snowmobile beside the bunny run and got off. David looked after her, a puzzled look on his face. But Katy had plans—plans to make up for the lost time that Victor’s boldness and David’s lapse in judgment had caused.
Plans to enjoy some alone time, finally.
“More lessons?” he asked.
“Why? You’re already a pro, remember?” she rebutted, not bothering to look over her shoulder. She heard the pleasant peal of David’s laughter behind her.
“Then what are you doing?” David called after her.
Katy turned to face him. “Going for a walk in the woods! Coming? Or are you still nursing that wounded pride?”
David grinned and hopped off the snowmobile to follow her.
She kept moving, toward the tree line, with David jogging to catch up. At the base of the mountain, the woods were deeper and on more even ground than along the ski trails, which made for a serene and leisurely stroll.
Katy rediscovered the old footpaths with a wave of nostalgia; they were the same meandering trails she’d walked a hundred times before, protected from the deepest snow by the thick woods. She stepped between snow-heavy conifers, David beside her, and felt herself relax. Almost immediately, David exhaled contentedly behind her, and the sound made her smile to herself. The sun reflected off the snow on the tree boughs, making the woods look like they were glittering.
�
�This is unbelievable,” David said. His eyes were wide in admiration.
Katy was happier than she’d expected she would be that David enjoyed the sights as much as she did. She often walked the woods alone, even without Cassie, since no one else at the palace seemed to feel the same call to wildness that Katy did. Even as a little girl, her favorite part of the winter home hadn’t been its elaborate taxidermy, its ski runs, or even its magnificent library (although that had been a close second); no, her favorite part had always been the snowy, lonely woods.
They walked farther away from the cleared area beside the bunny run, deeper into the woods. The thick blanket of snow created the same fantastical, muffled atmosphere that had always filled Katy with whimsy. She listened to the silence of the woods, overlaid by their rhythmic breathing and the crunch of their footsteps in the snow.
“It’s beautiful,” David murmured.
Katy looked at him, now standing beside her. Behind him, a white songbird flitted about the pine branches, pecking at pinecones.
“I thought you’d like it,” she replied.
It occurred to Katy that she had always been alone in these woods as a child. They’d been her retreat, her reprieve from the rigidity of palace life—a life she hadn’t always felt like she fit into. But she had never minded being alone here before.
Or, at least, she thought she hadn’t. But now, with David here . . . well, it felt like he was meant to be there with her.
They continued walking, quietly enjoying the sights and the company.
“That Oliver isn’t a bad guy,” David said after a while, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “Not marriage material, but not a bad guy.”
Katy stopped and turned to face David. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
David guffawed. “Jealous of what? Money? Fame? A kingdom? Not for me.” He winked at Katy.
A Love that Endures Page 34
