The Millionaire's Miracle

by Cathleen Galitz

  In sickness and in health.

  Until death do us part…

  As the plane bounced through another air pocket, a collective groan filled the cabin. Gillian sought strength in Bryce’s calm demeanor and steady gaze. Those eyes had seen their fair share of dreams both fulfilled and shattered without losing their shine.

  “Hold on,” Bryce said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her tightly against his chest.

  Gillian felt the strong beating of his heart against hers as they hit the runway.

  Hard.

  As the sound of brakes roared in her ears, she squeezed her eyes shut. The first thing she saw when she finally opened them was an amused expression on Bryce’s face as the plane rolled to a safe, anticlimactic stop.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  Gillian hadn’t seen such tenderness in his features for a long, long time. It was her undoing. Tears welled up in her eyes as she somehow managed a squeaky “fine” in response.

  Fine. Except that being with you scares me more than the thought of hitting the ground at two hundred miles per hour….

  Gillian told herself that it was ridiculous to get sucked back into any fantasy that involved reviving a dead relationship. A little turbulence shouldn’t make her forget that not only were they divorced but that Bryce was engaged to another woman. One she assumed could give him even more children than the healthy little boy whom he already adored.

  As the captain announced their safe arrival, Gillian struggled to regain a sense of composure. In the seat in front of her a young mother was busily reassuring her four-year-old that everything was all right. She wiped away the tears rolling down the girl’s chubby little cheeks and gathered her into her arms.

  Gillian’s own arms ached at the sight.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, honey,” the woman promised. “We’re safe and sound on the ground now, and Daddy’s waiting to take us home.”

  The toddler took solace in the thumb she stuck into her mouth and studied Gillian solemnly over her mother’s shoulder. That she would have been a wonderful mother herself was of little consequence in the flickering shadows of dead dreams. Stepping off the plane into a subzero blast of air did nothing to lift the sense of depression that settled into Gillian’s heart. Against the imposing background of the Tetons, the wind whistling through the valley was bitter and merciless. The dark bank of clouds building up in the distance predicted even colder weather to come.

  In the short walk from the plane to the terminal, she felt the sting of the cold against her exposed face. She wasn’t looking forward to traveling in such frigid weather. Making her way inside the airport, she welcomed the miracle of central heat. Since neither Bryce nor she had brought along more than carry-on baggage, there was little to do but wait for a taxi to take them to Sid’s Outpost, where an old friend would outfit them with snowmobiles and all the latest gossip.

  They’d barely pulled out of the airport before Bryce was on the phone to Vi. It wasn’t so much his conversation as the loving tone with which he conveyed the routine details that made Gillian wish she could crawl out of the back of the taxi.

  “I miss you, too,” he said a moment later. “I’ll call as soon as we get to the ranch so you don’t worry.”

  Gillian heard him chuckle deeply.

  “Robbie said that? What did the teacher say?”

  He paused for her reply and then laughed again.

  “Would you mind putting him on the phone? I’d really like to talk to him.”

  The loving expression on Bryce’s face left little doubt that he had truly bonded to the boy. Gillian’s stomach roiled as she pictured the two of them together doing all the things a father and son should. All the things he would never get to do with Bonnie.

  “Hey, slugger, how’re you doing? Your mom tells me you’ve been helping her wrap presents. I’m going to do my best to get back in time for Christmas. You stay off Santa’s naughty list, and I’ll be home before you know it. I’m also going to try to get a couple of tickets for that Nuggets game in Denver that we’ve been talking about.”

  Bryce probably would have chatted longer had the cell service in the mountains not been so spotty. Before saying his final goodbye, he told Robbie to “take good care of your mother. It’s important to look out for those you love—no matter how old you are.”

  Gillian bristled at the implied censure she imagined to be directed at her.

  “You have no right to judge me,” she said as he put his phone away. “I don’t need you to make me feel any guiltier than I already do.”

  “Who said I was judging you?” Bryce asked.

  “Right!” she intoned sarcastically. Gillian didn’t buy his innocent act for an instant.

  Although the heater in the taxi was on full blast, it did little but push the cold air to the back of the vehicle. There was certainly no chance of it thawing the chill building up between the two passengers who would rather look out their respective windows than risk speaking to each other again. Gillian blew on her hands and rubbed a hole in the frost-covered window. An eagle flew across her line of sight. Farther down the road a bullet hole added unnecessary punctuation to a No Hunting sign posted on a buckboard fence.

  Such familiar sights brought back memories of the times she’d spent riding the range with her father. He was the one who instilled in her an abiding love of nature. As miles passed without a word being spoken, they neared the town of Kelly, a community so small it barely warranted a dot on the map.

  Bryce was the first to break the silence. “When we get to the ranch, do you think we could pretend this isn’t as painful as it really is—if only for your father’s sake?”

  “Only if you can stop trying to make me feel like such a terrible daughter every chance you get.”

  “That’s your conscience talking, not me.”

  It wasn’t because Gillian found that nasty dig unworthy of a reply that she clamped her mouth shut and refused to dignify it with a response. But rather because, deep down inside, she suspected he was right.

  Five

  Some things never changed.

  Gillian counted herself lucky that Sid Meridan was one of them. His grizzled features and rough manner were as famous around these parts as the bottomless cup of coffee featured on his limited menu. A person could spend hours catching up over one of those white cups feeling right at home. An unlikely looking Good Samaritan, Sid had been a fixture in Kelly for as long as Gillian could remember. His Outpost was a restaurant, gas station, snowmobile rental and sales office and community gathering hole.

  Years ago he’d sold Gillian’s father one of the first Kitty Cats ever made and had taught her how to drive the child-size snowmobile. He’d also been there to pull her out of a ditch when she’d had her first car accident. At seventeen she’d swerved to avoid a moose that had lumbered out of the woods in front of her one snowy evening. Sid had placed the call to her father and had assured him that his youngest daughter was safe and sound. He’d also been a pall-bearer at her mother’s funeral.

  “How the hell have you been?” Sid asked, pumping their hands simultaneously.

  A wide smile revealed that he’d lost yet another tooth. Soon they were exchanging pleasantries about Gillian’s father, the anticipated length of their stay, snow conditions and the weather forecast, as well as the perplexing state of the world in general.

  “I’ve got two machines serviced and ready to go for you,” he told them. “John’s made arrangements to pay for whatever you need in the way of clothing, helmets and boots so go ahead and pick out whatever suits your fancy.”

  “I hope your sisters don’t take your father’s generosity as another sign the old man’s lost his mind,” Bryce said.

  Gillian struggled to maintain a polite smile if only for Sid’s sake. A headache had settled in behind her right eye, and the thought of airing personal business in public didn’t do much to lessen it. Swallowing the acrimonious response on the tip of her
tongue, she headed for the nearest rack of snowmobiling attire. While she sorted through various styles and sizes, Bryce wandered over to look at the latest sled gleaming on the showroom floor. He’d always had a weakness for fast machines whether they were cars, jet skis or snowmobiles. With all the gadgets and the creature comforts available, combined with 185 horsepower, the model that captured his attention sported an eye-popping sales tag.

  “SPP included,” Sid said with a knowing wink.

  Bryce chuckled at the local reference to the “small penis package” designed for egomaniacs who had more money than brains.

  “In the old days, this baby’d be sitting here a good long time before anybody’d be willing to pay the sticker price,” Sid explained. “Now I have trouble keeping ’em in stock.”

  While Gillian slipped into a changing booth to try on her bibs and matching coat, Sid filled Bryce in on the monumental changes affecting the valley.

  “Traditional working ranches are selling for millions and being repackaged as ‘ranchettes.’”

  He gave the word as much respect as the wad of chew rolling around in his mouth. “I’ve heard rumblings that some big-time developer’s been speculating about dividing up Moon Cussers, as well.”

  A muscle in Bryce’s jaw vibrated. “Do you think John knows anything about it?”

  “Doubt it.”

  The name of his ex-father-in-law’s ranch evoked images of pirates rather than cowboys since, in days of old, the term was associated with scoundrels living near the New England coast who deliberately hung false lights out so that captains would mistake them for beacons and run their ships aground, allowing the brigands to pillage the disabled vessels. They cursed the moon because its glow would reveal their scheme to crews of passing ships.

  A curious transplant from Maine, John’s great-grandfather established himself as a respected cattle baron only after getting his start in the business by rustling mavericks from other herds. He, too, was rumored to swear at the moon on nights when there were no clouds to hide his activities from law-abiding cattlemen. Of course, none of this had ever been proven beyond local lore.

  After indulging in a steaming cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll so huge it spilled over the edges of their respective plates, Gillian and Bryce set out for the ranch dressed more like a couple of explorers ready to conquer the North Pole than modern-day voyagers. Eighteen miles wasn’t that long a distance, but Gillian knew such a venture could easily take thirty minutes to two hours depending on conditions. Sometimes inclement weather made the trip altogether impossible.

  It had been a long time since she’d been on a snowmobile, and she enjoyed the feeling of being out in the wide-open spaces again. Her sisters could barely contain their contempt for such an inconvenient mode of transportation, but she enjoyed the sense of freedom that only a snowmobile could provide. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a feeling of power at her fingertips.

  Bryce flew past her in a blur, stirring her competitive spirit. She pulled the throttle to the handle bar and held on tight. An instant later she was arching a rainbow of snow in his direction as she shot by him. Waggling the rear end of her snowmobile, she deliberately taunted him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of his machine edging up beside her.

  Fat chance! she thought to herself.

  Gillian veered off the groomed trail toward the archway marking the edge of her father’s property. Since the ranch abutted one of the largest elk refuges in North America, only an outsider might consider it odd that the arch itself was made of interlocking antlers. Unmarred by a single human track, the snow was a pristine blanket of white. She and Bryce crisscrossed open meadows, played cat and mouse with each other and reveled in a vast playground where there was nothing to catch the wind but an open heart.

  A coyote ventured out from a nearby copse of bare aspens to chase a snowshoe hare that would have been impossible to see in its winter coat had it not been moving. Gillian turned her machine to dissect their path, purposely cutting the predator off from its prey. With a startled yip the coyote scurried in the other direction as she brought her sled to a halt.

  “That was for Mr. Floppers,” she said, recalling a morning many years ago when she’d awakened to the sight of an eagle feasting on her pet bunny outside her bedroom window.

  Gillian’s chest tightened at the sight of Bryce climbing the side of the mountain with determination written on his face. He looked tiny against the distant timber line. And uncharacteristically vulnerable.

  At the top of his ascent, the snow began to give way like sugar. Any amusement Gillian might feel about his need to show off for her was overshadowed by the thought of him rolling that big machine down the mountainside. She shut off her own snowmobile and removed her helmet. When Bryce pulled up next to her a little while later covered in a layer of fine powder, Gillian couldn’t help but feel relief that he was still in one piece.

  He took his helmet off to reveal eyes the same color as the sky overhead. They were shining with exhilaration. Gillian squinted against the waning light. Bryce looked exactly like the young man she’d fallen in love with years ago.

  “You’ve got something in your eye,” he said, pulling off a glove and reaching out to remove a fat snowflake from the tip of her eyelashes.

  When he trailed his index finger down the side of her face, Gillian’s corresponding shiver went far beyond anything that the cold could induce.

  “We’d better get going. I don’t like the looks of those clouds in the distance,” she said, replacing her helmet on her head.

  The ominous rumbling they heard had nothing to do with the clouds, however. Such bitter cold weather didn’t breed thunderstorms in the dead of winter. Only when the windshield on Gillian’s snowmobile started vibrating did she grasp the precariousness of their situation.

  “Avalanche!” Bryce screamed.

  Directly above them a huge cornice broke loose from the cliff face. Careening down the mountainside in what looked like slow motion, the oncoming snow-slide appeared as harmless as a snowball. Gillian knew better. As it gained speed, that little snowball could very well bring the entire mountain down upon them in less than a couple of minutes.

  “Follow me!” Bryce yelled, pointing his machine in the opposite direction and giving it everything it had.

  Wrapping her hand around the throttle, Gillian leaned forward as if to urge her machine onto the frozen lake that stretched in front of them. She didn’t dare look back as boulders disappeared behind her and trees snapped in two as they vanished beneath a rolling wave of snow that churned up anything that got in its way. It was all she could do to keep ahead of the thunder. The roar drowned out the warning crack of ice beneath her sled. Roosterlike tails of water fanned out behind her runners. In less than five minutes she and Bryce managed to cross the half-frozen lake, which they should have never been on in the first place.

  Once safely on the other side and away from imminent danger, Bryce slid to a stop in front of her.

  “Gillian!” he cried.

  Dropping his helmet into the snow, he attempted to run to her. In three and a half feet of fresh powder that was no easy feat. Sinking to his chest, he crawled toward Gillian on his belly.

  The thin line separating love and hate dissolved in a blur of snowy landscape and tears as Gillian pulled off her own helmet, then dropped into the snow and reached out for Bryce. Their fingertips touched, and a moment later they were holding on to each other as tightly as if fate might make yet another attempt to snatch one from the other.

  “Are you okay?” Bryce asked.

  His words echoed in the deafening silence and lodged in the empty place inside Gillian’s heart. She could only reassure him with a nod. It would be a while before words would come.

  Anticipation thrummed through her entire being as Bryce lowered his face toward hers. An instant later his lips claimed hers with a ferocity that would have been frightening under any other circumstance. She responde
d in kind, deepening the kiss by slipping her tongue into the warmth of a sensual mouth that remembered every inch of her body. Closing her eyes, she willingly granted him access to her very soul.

  Oblivious to snowflakes falling around them, they devoured one another. A primitive sound emanating from somewhere deep in Bryce’s core evoked in her a mewling response that was nearly drowned out by the hammering of her heart. Gillian filled her lungs with the all too familiar scent of his cologne, which she had never been able to forget, no matter how hard she tried.

  All of the things that she’d wanted to say to him but had never been able to put into words seemed magically conveyed in the power of that single devastating kiss.

  Pulling away from her, Bryce cleared his throat. “I—I don’t know why I did that. Um, what do you say we get you home before anything else can go wrong?” he asked with a strained smile.

  Home!

  Gillian liked the sound of that word. Her residence might be hundreds of miles away, but her real home lay somewhere beyond the next hill.

  The question was which one?

  As much as she hated to admit that she’d become disoriented by Bryce’s kiss, the truth was Gillian had no idea where they were. Any sign of the groomed trail had been completely wiped out by the avalanche, effectively and indefinitely cutting them off from the rest of the world. Even if by some miracle they managed to find their way to the ranch, being near Bryce was every bit as frightening to Gillian as the avalanche itself.

  Six

  The look on Gillian’s face must have told Bryce everything he needed to know about her unraveling state of mind.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised. “We just got turned around trying to outrun the avalanche. All we have to do is skirt the edge of the lake and keep on going until we make our way back to where the trail used to be. The ranch should only be a couple of miles away from there.”

  Gillian donned a brave smile. He was right of course. They just needed to stay together and keep their wits about them.