When the Snow Falls

by Fern Michaels

  I had even wanted the same hotel room from our last visit, but it was already booked. This room, however, is almost identical to the one Mark and I had shared, with a few changes to the decor. Though I’m sure even the suite we stayed in has undergone a few changes in the five years that have passed. I know I’m torturing myself by having chosen the same hotel where we stayed, but I feel less guilty because Dr. Pierpont was the one to suggest this trip as part of my therapy.

  Before I came back to Austria, I wondered if I would see Mark’s ghost here. He didn’t disappoint me and had shown up a few times as I revisited the places we’d been to together when I first came to Innsbruck.

  I rub my left hand with my right, and my heart stops for a moment when I realize my ring finger is bare. But then I remember I left my engagement ring back home in Newport, and relief washes over me that I haven’t lost it. Dr. Pierpont’s first exercise for me before taking the trip to Austria had been to leave my ring behind. Before leaving for the airport, I had begun to walk out of my apartment when I realized I was still wearing it. I had almost left it on and figured Dr. Pierpont would never know. But for some reason, I decided to take it off and leave it in the key dish in my foyer.

  I still called Mark my boyfriend. We had only been engaged for a few days before he was killed. I’d barely had enough time to get used to the idea of having a fiancé, and then he was taken from me. Back home, everyone wasted no time in referring to Mark as my fiancé, even though he was gone. Part of me almost wished he had never proposed. It just made the possibility of what future we could have had and its loss all the more painful.

  Sighing, I shake my head. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I still haven’t had breakfast. I head into the bathroom to take a shower and force myself to go back into the world of the living.

  Chapter 9

  I’m eating breakfast at a local café, pretending to read a German newspaper. Ridiculous, I know, since I have no clue what it says. Instead of reading the news headlines, I’m contemplating leaving Innsbruck and abandoning Dr. Pierpont’s crazy experiment of having me come here to get closure. God, I hate that word. As if anyone who’s lost a loved one could ever fully get closure. Anyway, this has become a daily routine of mine—debating whether I should just get on the next plane. It would be easy. Staying here and reliving my memories of my first trip with Mark is what’s been difficult.

  “Good morning. How are you?”

  I look up. There’s something familiar about this man, but I can’t place where I’ve seen him before.

  “Good morning. I’m well, thank you.” I give a shy smile and then glance down at my paper, hoping he’ll get the hint that I don’t want to be disturbed.

  “It’s Bianca, isn’t it?”

  I look up, surprise registering on my face.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. Have we met before?”

  He extends his hand. “Jack Gruner. I’m the manager at the Innsbruck Chalet. I checked you in when you arrived.”

  So that’s where I had seen him.

  “I’m sorry. Now I remember.”

  “Have you been enjoying yourself?”

  “It’s been fine.” I avert my gaze and play with my teaspoon.

  “I take it you’re in Austria to spend the Christmas holidays here?”

  “Partly.”

  Jack is about to ask me another question, but I interrupt him before he can do so.

  “I’m sorry.” I glance at my watch. “I need to get going. I’m meeting my boyfriend in Old Town.”

  For some reason Jack frowns, but then nods and says, “Of course. It was nice to meet you—well, again, at least.” He laughs.

  “It was nice to meet you too. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you right away.”

  Jack holds up his hand. “No worries. I’m sure I’ll see you at the hotel. Have a nice day.”

  “Thank you. You too.”

  Jack walks over to the bar, where he takes a seat and gives his order to a waitress.

  Without bothering to ask my own waitress for the check, I take a bunch of euros out of my wallet, more than what my breakfast probably cost, and leave them on the table. As I quickly make my way out of the café, Jack turns and waves to me. I wave back but don’t meet his gaze.

  Once outside, I can feel my pulse racing, and it takes some time until it returns to normal. Walking slowly back to the hotel, I deeply inhale the fresh mountain air. The temperature is the highest today that it’s been since I first arrived in Austria. I’m still dressed in all my layers, yet the crisp air is making me feel lighter somehow. I let my mind empty of all thoughts except for the pristine natural beauty before me. Austria truly is gorgeous and one of my favorite places in the world—even if it reminds me of Mark.

  My thoughts return to Jack Gruner. For some reason, meeting him rattled me. I could tell he was going to ask if he could join me if I didn’t quickly make up my excuse of meeting my boyfriend. And then I couldn’t get out of the café soon enough. What really bothered me was how he frowned when I mentioned my boyfriend. Perhaps he was disappointed to learn I’m not single? Or maybe he could tell I was lying? Suddenly, I remember that he checked me in when I first arrived, so he knows I’m staying at the hotel alone. My face burns at the possibility that Jack realized I’d lied. But just because I didn’t check in with my boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t have one. I could be having a long-distance relationship with someone who lives here in Austria. Yes, that’s it! But again, I remember Jack’s frown and know he must’ve been thinking that no one else checked into the hotel with me. The likelihood that he thinks I have a boyfriend living here in Austria is slim. I feel like such an idiot.

  Now I regret not bringing my engagement ring. If I was wearing it, I wouldn’t have to make up these silly lies about my imaginary boyfriend to Jack or any other men who might express an interest in talking to me. Shrugging my shoulders, I tell myself it doesn’t matter what Jack thinks of me. I’ll never see him again after this trip. Besides, I didn’t come here to have fun and socialize. I just want to keep to myself on this trip, alone with my memories of Mark—or with his ghost, when he decides to pay me a visit.

  Chapter 10

  I decided to wake up earlier today and go for a hike through one of the trails that are near my hotel. Hiking has always calmed me. Back home, when I can’t get to a hiking trail, I go for very long walks, especially when I’m feeling stressed.

  I’m about a quarter of a mile on the trail when, seemingly out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind kicks up. Though I’m dressed warmly, a chill runs down my body that I can’t seem to shake.

  “Hey! Think you can beat me this time?”

  I turn around. Mark’s ghost is standing a few feet behind me, holding up a snowball to me in challenge.

  I shake my head and continue walking up the mountain. But Mark appears in front of me, blocking my path.

  “What’s the matter? Think you won’t be able to beat me again?”

  Part of me doesn’t want to deal with Mark right now. But just like when he was alive, I can’t resist his devilish smile.

  “What makes you so sure you beat me the last time we had a snowball fight here?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, a smirk on my face.

  Instead of responding, Mark throws the snowball he’s holding at me.

  “Hey! No fair! We didn’t call start yet!” I yell at Mark, but he’s disappeared.

  Thinking he’s vanished, I see a flash of his gray jacket, the same jacket he’d been wearing the day he was killed, darting behind one of the trees. Every time Mark’s ghost appears to me, he’s wearing the same clothes he wore the day he died.

  Looking around to see if anyone else is coming up the mountain, I take off at a run, yelling, “I’m coming!”

  Mark dodges in and out of the trees so fast. I can’t help thinking he has the advantage since he must just float through the air. Isn’t that, after all, what ghosts do? But he appears to be very much alive, as handsome as he ever was and full of
life and energy, just the way I remember him.

  “Gotcha!” I squeal excitedly after hitting him with my third snowball.

  “It’s not over yet!” Mark yells.

  I hide behind a tree, waiting to get a glimpse of him before I strike with my next snowball. But suddenly, I feel myself fall forward. When I look up, Mark is on top of me, pelting my coat with snowball after snowball. I laugh. I can’t help but note that I can’t feel his weight on me. If only I could touch him. Though I’ve tried the other times he’s visited me and know it’s not possible, I can’t resist trying to wrap my arms around him in a hug this time. He notices and smiles but doesn’t say anything. We then lie side by side in the snow, staring into each other’s eyes.

  “You know you’ll always have me, Bianca.”

  “Stop, Mark. Please.”

  “It’s true, though. No one can ever take away from you what we had. I’ll always have been a part of your life and a part of you. You can still be happy without me.”

  “I’m happy when you visit me, Mark.”

  “Not always. You were pretty mad at me this morning.”

  “I’m sorry. I was just hurt when you told me I had to let you go.”

  “I know.”

  “Can we just have a good time for now? No more heavy talk?”

  “Okay.”

  I get up and start running. “Chase me if you can!”

  As I run higher up the trail and through the maze of trees, I realize this is why I haven’t gotten on the next flight back home. While it’s been painful reliving the memories I had with Mark when I first came to Austria, it’s also felt like time has stood still, especially when his ghost appears to me here. And now having this snowball fight and chase reminds me of our first day in Innsbruck together. It’s too intoxicating to give up.

  I stop, just in time to duck a snowball Mark has thrown in my direction.

  “Hey! I thought we were just going to chase each other. No more snowball fights!”

  I’m laughing and out of breath, but I still take off after him, throwing as many snowballs as I can. But none of them manage to hit Mark. He disappears behind a row of trees to my left.

  But before I can find him, he shows up again behind me and says, “You’ve got company.”

  He nods in the direction of two teenage boys who are staring at me. Their faces say it all. Of course they think I’m crazy, having a snowball fight with myself. Naturally, Mark is gone, and I can’t help feeling angry with the teens for cutting my time with him short. Doing my best to ignore the boys’ stares, I make my way back down the mountain. Soon, my thoughts drift to my family back home in Newport.

  My mother phoned this morning. Amazingly, it’s only the second time we’ve spoken while I’ve been in Innsbruck. My father has probably stopped her from calling me more often, telling her not to worry about me and to give me space. I had called Mom after I landed to let her know I’d arrived safely. Of course, she’d been concerned about my coming here alone, but Dad and my brothers had convinced her I’d be fine. I think they realized how important it was for me to take this trip.

  My family had been devastated when Mark died. In the year we’d been dating, my parents had grown very fond of him. And, of course, my brothers had been such good friends with him. While they had loved him, they also wanted me to move on. Though it’s been five years since the accident, my brothers and parents know better than to broach the subject with me anymore. The few times they tried in the past always ended with me yelling at them.

  Dr. Pierpont told me it’s natural for my family to want me to be happy and move forward, but she also told me I needed to do it on my own terms and when I’m ready. At least she makes me feel normal—or as normal as someone who’s been mourning her fiancé for five years and seeing his ghost can feel.

  I’m about halfway down the mountain when I hear a soft whimpering to my right. Then I notice a trail of paw prints in the snow that end by a tree. Walking over to the tree, the whimpering gets louder. A beagle sits on the other side of the tree, licking frantically at its paw.

  “Hey, little guy. What happened to you?”

  The dog looks excited to see me and stands up, limping toward me. His left hind foot is bleeding. I glance around, hoping to see the beagle’s owner, but no one is in sight.

  I carefully try to lift his foot to inspect it closer, but he yelps and pulls it back. Accustomed to the animals at the vet clinic reacting the same way, I know I need to distract him with a treat to get nearer to that foot to make sure he’s not seriously injured.

  I take off my scarf and tie it around the beagle’s foot; not too tightly, because I don’t want to cause him any more pain than he’s already in. And if something is embedded in his foot, I don’t want to risk pushing it deeper. If there is a foreign object in his foot, once I get it out, I can apply more pressure to stop the bleeding. Picking the dog up, I make my way back to the hotel. I’m sure they’ll have a first aid kit I can use.

  Before going into the hotel lobby, I go to the lodge and buy some beef jerky. Back outside, I give the beagle a piece of the jerky. While he’s happily chewing on it, I remove the scarf from his foot and take another look at it. This time he doesn’t pull back when I lift it up. I see what the cause of the bleeding is. A nail is wedged into his foot. I’m going to have to get it out before it gets infected.

  Wrapping the scarf back around the beagle’s foot, I give him another piece of jerky before scooping him up once more into my arms and heading toward the hotel lobby. A pretty strawberry blonde greets me.

  “Hello, Miss Simone. How are you today?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Though the desk attendant remembers my name and I’ve seen her several times during my stay here, I have no idea what her name is. I glance at her name badge.

  “Beatrice, I found this dog on one of the trails. It looks like he stepped on a nail and hurt his foot. Is it possible you’ve seen this dog before and know who his owner is?”

  Beatrice takes a closer look and says, “I thought that was Chauncey, but I couldn’t fathom why he would be with you. I thought it was another dog that happened to look like him. Chauncey, what trouble have you gotten yourself into now? And where’s your collar?” Beatrice leans over and scratches Chauncey on the head.

  Relieved, I say, “So you do recognize him?”

  “Of course. That’s Jack’s dog.”

  “Jack? The hotel manager?”

  “Yes. That’s the only Jack we have working here.”

  “Is he at work today?”

  “He’s off, but I’ll phone him and let him know you have his dog.”

  “Thank you. That would be great. I’m so glad we know who the dog belongs to. I take it from what you said that Chauncey is known for getting into scrapes.”

  “Yes. Chauncey is quite feisty. But we still love him, don’t we?” Beatrice plants a kiss on Chauncey’s nose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Simone, I’ll place that call to Jack.”

  I wait for Beatrice to make the call. I hope Jack is home; I’d rather wait to get permission from him before I treat Chauncey’s foot.

  Beatrice hangs up. “He said he’ll be right over. He didn’t even notice that Chauncey was missing. But after I told him you’d found him, he noticed the back door of his house was open. If you’d like, you can leave Chauncey here with me and I’ll hand him over to Jack once he arrives.”

  “Thank you, but I want to treat Chauncey’s injury. I’m a vet tech and could do it. I’d feel better knowing he’s going to be all right, so I’ll just wait for Jack.”

  “Chauncey’s gotten a hold of your heartstrings already, I see.” Beatrice smiles.

  I walk over to the couch in the lobby and take a seat.

  About twenty minutes later, I’m standing behind one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the hotel lobby, looking for any sign of Jack. Chauncey seems to be getting restless too, so I’m hoping the view outside might distract him a bit. Suddenly, Jack�
�s outline comes into view. But I can’t be seeing right. It looks like he’s dragging a sled.

  But then, as Jack gets closer to the hotel, I see the sled isn’t empty. A boy of about nine or ten is in it. Jack stops pulling the sled and squats down beside the boy, saying something to him before running back toward the parking lot. The boy’s face is etched with worry lines. But he remains seated in the sled. Jack comes back into view, running and pushing a wheelchair. Once he reaches the boy in the sled, he lifts him and places him in the wheelchair. He pushes the wheelchair through the hotel entrance doors. Is the boy Jack’s son? Was I so arrogant and self-absorbed to think that Jack had an interest in me when he’s probably married?

  Suddenly, I feel embarrassed as I remember how I had abruptly parted from Jack in the café that morning, and how I had lied about meeting my boyfriend. Just like those boys on the mountain who witnessed me laughing to myself and throwing snowballs at no one, Jack must think I’m absolutely crazy.

  I quickly sit down on the couch before Jack can see I was staring at him through the window. Once he spots me, he points me out to the boy, who then takes control of pushing his own chair as he quickly makes his way over to my side.

  “Chauncey! How could you go out without me?”

  Chauncey lowers his eyes, barely meeting the boy’s gaze.

  “Bianca. Thank God you found him. I can’t believe I didn’t notice he was gone.” Jack gestures to the boy, “Bianca, this is my son, Christopher.” Turning to his son, he says, “Christopher, Bianca is a guest at the hotel. We’re very lucky she found Chauncey.”

  Christopher shakes my hand and says, “Thank you so much for finding my dog.”

  I’m touched by the boy’s good manners.

  “You’re welcome, Christopher.”

  “Come here, Chauncey.” Christopher leans over in his chair, reaching for Chauncey. I hand him over to Christopher, who plops him onto his lap and wheels the dog around the lobby as he continues to lecture him. But Chauncey is now looking directly into Christopher’s face, as if he’s saying he’s sorry. The sight is at once amusing and endearing.