Sleigh Bells in the Snow

by Sarah Morgan

“You heard Brett—I feast on difficult. Except right now I’d rather be feasting on this. Élise is a fabulous chef.” Kayla focused on the food on her plate, wondering why being close to him made her nervous. “I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow I’m giving you a ski lesson. You will have sweated off the calories by lunchtime. So you don’t see your folks during the holidays?”

  He wasn’t going to let it drop.

  Kayla put her fork down, leaving her food untouched. “What was it you said today in the forest? Something about preferring it straight? I’m going to give it to you straight, Jackson. This may come as a shock given that your home seems to be a sanctuary for decorations and a breeding colony for gingerbread Santas, but not everyone is addicted to Christmas. Some of us don’t like the holidays too much. In fact—” she hesitated and then decided it was time to be honest “—I hate it. It’s my least favorite time of year. I was willing to work over Christmas because it seemed like the perfect escape. Does that answer your question?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT DIDN’T BEGIN to answer his question, but that was probably because he had a bunch of them.

  “You came here to escape Christmas?”

  “I thought it might be easier.” She picked up her knife and fork and sliced through the lamb. “I thought I had more chance of avoiding festivities here than I did there. You promised me a secluded log cabin. It sounded appealing.”

  “And then you found out my family makes a big fuss of Christmas.”

  “Mmm.” She chewed. “That came as a bit of a shock, but I’m over it now.”

  “Why do you hate this time of year?”

  “It’s frustrating trying to get anything done. Publications run on a skeleton staff, opportunities for coverage go down, people in the office walk round wearing ridiculous bits of tinsel in their hair—”

  “That tells me why Christmas is inconvenient. It doesn’t tell me why you hate it.”

  A few seconds passed.

  “It just isn’t a happy time of year for me.” She said it quietly and he felt something tug inside him.

  In the flickering candlelight he could see the thickness of her lashes and the smooth curve of her cheek. In her black dress, she looked younger. More vulnerable. Less like the killer PR expert and more like a woman. And he knew, deep in his gut, that there was some much deeper, darker reason for her dislike of Christmas than the inconvenience of the holiday season.

  He remembered how pale she’d looked decorating the Christmas tree. She’d seemed as fragile as the frosted silver decoration she’d held in her hand.

  “I’ll try to make sure you’re not subjected to too much Christmas during your stay.”

  “Oh—” she smiled, back to being her detached, professional self “—it’s really not that much of a big deal.”

  It was obviously a huge deal. He heard it in her voice and saw it in the way she held herself.

  “So let me give you some tips about skiing tomorrow—” He steered the conversation in a different direction, entertained her with stories about skiing exploits when he and his brothers were growing up and saw the tension gradually ease out of her shoulders.

  By the time they reached dessert—a delicate trio of French patisseries that would have shattered anyone’s resolution to forgo dessert—she was even laughing.

  And she was still laughing as he drove her back to her cabin, regaling her with stories about Tyler.

  “Seriously? He did that? It’s a wonder he wasn’t killed.” Smiling, she pushed open the gate. She’d pulled on her snow boots in his car, and she walked confidently now, but he noticed that when he took her hand she didn’t pull away.

  The moon sent a ripple of silvery light over the snow-covered trees and she stood for a moment and breathed.

  “It is beautiful here. Like being in our own world. The land of Snow Crystal.”

  “Occupied by aliens,” he said drily, and she laughed.

  “Occupied by brave fighters who refuse to be defeated by the big bad economy.”

  The smile stayed on her face all the way to the cabin. It stayed in place until she glanced into her glass-fronted living room and saw the enormous Christmas tree twinkling with lights and silver stars.

  “Oh.” Her tone was flat. “Who put that there?”

  Jackson held his breath to prevent himself venting every swearword in his vocabulary.

  “I’m guessing it was Alice.”

  “Your eighty-year-old grandmother dragged a six-foot tree through the forest? That’s impressive.”

  “I heard her talking this afternoon when she came back from her shopping trip. She thought you were upset because you weren’t home for Christmas.” And his mother had tried to talk her out of it, he remembered. Somehow, his mother had known Kayla wouldn’t want one. “She must have had Tyler help her or something. Hell, Kayla, I can—”

  “No.” She turned, her smile as fake as the spray snow they used on the windows of the village store. “She was being thoughtful and I don’t want to offend her. I’ve done more than enough of that. It’s fine. It’s just a tree.”

  But he could see it was so much more than a tree. It was a reminder of a time of year she hated, and it had killed their brief moment of camaraderie.

  The laughter, the humor, the connection—it had all gone. She’d pulled herself back, like a turtle retreating inside the protection of its shell.

  “Kayla, if you don’t like Christmas then you don’t want to be walking around that damn thing each time you go to the kitchen. I can—”

  “I’ll just tune it out.” She was already walking up the steps, pulling away from him physically and mentally. “I won’t even notice it’s there when I’m working.”

  Jackson wanted to ask how the hell she planned on tuning out something that was almost the size of the Empire State Building, but she had the door open and was giving him that fixed, formal smile she’d perfected. “Thank you for a lovely evening. I’ll get to work on that proposal.”

  * * *

  “JESS?” TYLER THUMPED his fist on the door and wondered whether this whole parenting thing would have been easier if he’d had Jess living with him all her life. At least he would have had more practice. “Open this goddamn door right now or I swear to God I’ll break it down and I’ll be patching up the wood with those skis of yours.”

  That threat received the same lack of response as the others he’d thrown at her.

  Ash and Luna whined as they watched him from the top of the stairs.

  “What?” He glared at the dogs. “If you know something, for fuck’s sake tell me.”

  He’d started patient. Then patience had given way to manipulation. Turned out he wasn’t above bribery—hell, he’d tried everything from promises of hot chocolate to new skis, but he still couldn’t get the girl to open the door.

  She’d been locked in there all afternoon, since he’d arrived back from guiding that group of powder hounds. He’d nipped out for an hour to cut down and deliver the tree to Jackson’s woman from New York on his grandmother’s instructions, and when he’d arrived back Jess had still been in her room.

  Tyler planted his hand on the door frame and cursed. “Jess? If something is wrong, just give it to me straight. I can read the weather, I can read the snow, but I sure as hell haven’t ever been able to read a woman’s mind, so cut me some slack, will you?”

  Still no answer.

  Irritation mingled in with unease.

  There was no sound from inside the room. Nothing.

  In his experience a quiet woman was a dangerous woman.

  Turning the air blue and trying not to think how much extra work this move was going to cost him, Tyler raised his leg and kicked the door hard with his boot.

  It flew open and Ash barked loudly, bounding forward to investigate the source of the drama.

  The room was empty except for a pile of scrapbooks on the bed.

  Wasn’t she too old for scrapbooks?
r />   He flipped one open and saw a picture of himself standing on the podium receiving a medal.

  “Shit.” He sank onto the bed and carried on turning the pages until he realized that what he was looking at was basically a chronicle of his life.

  Jess had kept a record of his entire skiing career. And there, in the front of the book, were two words written in a childish scrawl.

  My dad.

  His throat felt scratchy and raw.

  He’d thought she didn’t want to be here. He’d thought Janet had poisoned her against him, but the contents of those scrapbooks said otherwise.

  He was about to close it when he saw the photograph of the baby.

  And he saw something else.

  Jess O’Neil.

  Not Carpenter. O’Neil.

  Unease turned to panic. “Jess? Where are you, sweetheart?” Closing the scrapbooks, he glanced around him, searching for clues. He yanked open doors, wondering if she were hiding. “If this is some sort of game, I’m not close to laughing so just—” He shivered as cold air brushed his skin and saw what he hadn’t immediately seen when he’d walked into the room.

  The window was open.

  And Jess was gone.

  * * *

  KAYLA LAY CURLED up on the shelf, staring into the forest, watching the snow glisten in the light of the moon. She decided if there was anything lonelier than being on your own at Christmas, it was being on your own while surrounded by a big happy family.

  For the O’Neils, it was clearly the highlight of the year. A time to get together and celebrate being a family.

  Unable to sleep, she dragged on the luxurious robe that had been left for her use and went downstairs.

  There, staring at her, was the enormous fir tree.

  “If I thought I could lift you, I’d throw you back where you came from,” she muttered, turning her back on it and opening her laptop.

  At least her plan for Snow Crystal was coming together nicely. She’d even managed to speak to Brett and outline her ideas.

  And she’d closed the door on Jackson, instead of inviting him in. It had taken willpower she didn’t know she possessed, but somehow she’d maintained distance.

  And she’d carry on maintaining that distance. She’d—

  A hammering on the door made her jump and she turned to find Jackson standing by the door, gesturing for her to open up.

  Her heart accelerated.

  She knew he wasn’t a guy who was used to hearing no, but she hadn’t expected him to show up here hours after she’d already wished him good-night.

  Wishing she were dressed, she walked to the door, but one look at his face told her this wasn’t a social call.

  “Jess is missing.” His expression was grim and serious. “Climbed out of her bedroom window. Didn’t leave a note. No clues. Her phone is still on her bed. Tyler is losing his mind. It’s fifteen-below out there and she’s just a kid. We’re gathering together a group to look for her.”

  “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”

  She did it in two and was back by the door stamping her feet into her boots while Jackson finished up a conversation with someone called Josh.

  “Yeah, right—” Still on the phone, he passed Kayla gloves and a hat and walked to the door. “We’ll do that. And if we see anything, we’ll call you. I don’t want my mother involved yet. Or Walter. His heart isn’t good. And don’t let anyone contact Janet Carpenter, either. No way does she get to do more damage to my brother.” He hung up and Kayla followed him through the door.

  “Who was that?”

  “Josh. He’s chief of police and a member of the mountain rescue team. He’s going to put the team on alert, but I’m hoping we won’t need them.”

  “Could she have gone home?”

  “To Chicago? Not at this time of night.” He drove fast down the snow-covered track and pulled up outside a house that overlooked the lake.

  The kitchen was full of people, most of whom she didn’t recognize, and Brenna and Tyler were in midargument.

  “So because I’m trying to be a responsible parent this is somehow all my fault?” White-faced, Tyler paced the kitchen while Brenna spread her hands in exasperation.

  “All I’m saying is that you don’t listen to what she wants. You just say no, Tyler. You’re making it too easy for her to rebel against you.”

  “I’m doing my fucking best!” Tyler rounded on her. “She wanted to throw herself off the top of a vertical cliff. You think I should have said yes to that?”

  “You did it.”

  “I skied anything with a gradient, including old Mitch Sommerville’s garage roof. I loved skiing. Speed. It had nothing to do with teenage rebellion.”

  “This isn’t helping.” Jackson strode between the two of them. “We need to work out what might have been going on in Jess’s head.”

  “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying to work that out for the past twelve years, and I’ve gotten nowhere.” Beside himself with worry, Tyler tugged on his jacket. “I’m done with standing around talking. I prefer action.”

  Jackson caught his shoulder. “Not without a plan.”

  “My plan,” Tyler said grimly, “is to find my daughter. Finally she’s back living with me, and I intend to keep it that way. The rest of you can stand around talking about teenage rebellion if that’s how you want to spend the time.”

  It must have been so hard for him, Kayla thought, trying to bond with a young girl he only saw sporadically. But there was no doubting how much he cared.

  As far as she was concerned, that was the most important quality in a parent.

  “Maybe it isn’t rebellion.” She hadn’t intended to speak. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it against her rib cage. “Maybe she’s pushing you. Testing you.”

  Tyler looked at her, noticing her for the first time. “What are you talking about? You don’t even know Jess. You met her for about ten seconds the other night.”

  He was right, of course. She didn’t know Jess. Kayla wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but it was too late because Jackson was frowning at her.

  “Testing what? What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” Kayla backed off. “You’re right. I don’t know Jess.”

  “Why do you think she could have been testing him, Kayla?”

  Everyone was staring at her. Even Tyler, his gaze so fierce it was as if he suspected she’d taken Jess and buried her body.

  Kayla licked her lips. “I’m just thinking that maybe this thing with her mother has shaken her up. Maybe she’s looking for proof that you love her.”

  Silence spread across the room.

  Tyler swore fluently. “You think I don’t love her? Have you any idea how hard I fought to have my daughter living with me?”

  Kayla tensed. “I wasn’t suggesting—”

  “It sure sounded as if—”

  “That’s enough.” Jackson’s tone was hard. “There’s logic in what Kayla says. Think about it, Tyler. Janet calls up and tells you she can’t handle Jess anymore, and suddenly the kid is coming to live with you. No warning. Nothing. Your life is turned upside down.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my life!”

  “Put yourself in Jess’s shoes and think how that must have made her feel.”

  Kayla stood, frozen in silence. She had a pretty good idea how it had made Jess feel.

  She’d felt it all herself.

  Tension rippled across Tyler’s wide, powerful shoulders. “I want her here. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m not even pretending I’m any good at it—we’re both still finding our way, but that doesn’t mean I’m not glad she’s here.”

  “Have you told her that?” Kayla’s mouth was so dry she could hardly form the words. “Because maybe she needs to hear it.”

  “That’s good advice,” Brenna murmured. “Maybe Jess is worried you don’t want her here. That she’s cramping your style. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “So what does th
at mean? You think she’s run away?” Tyler’s face was white with worry. “I’ve never once said I don’t want her here. If that’s what’s in her head then it was put there by someone else.”

  Kayla wondered if that “someone else” was Jess’s mother. She wondered whether Jess had overheard something. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened to a child torn between two parents.

  Why does she have to stay with us at Christmas? Can’t she go to her father?

  She tried to push back the memories, reminding herself this wasn’t about her. It was about Jess.

  “We can deal with that part later.” Taking control, Jackson strode to the door. “Let’s start by searching the resort. Ask people if they’ve seen her. Brenna—you and Tyler take the trail by the cabins. Kayla and I will go to the far side of the lake.”

  Brenna reached for her keys. “Have you checked whether her skis have gone?”

  Tyler threw her a look. “It’s dark, Einstein.”

  “Not everywhere. The bowl is illuminated.” Jackson stopped dead. “So is Devil’s Gully.”

  Tyler’s face lost the last of its color and Kayla glanced between them.

  “What’s the significance of Devil’s Gully?” She’d heard Jackson mention it, but wanted to know why they all looked so worried.

  “It’s a double diamond black. A thousand feet of vertical drop, sections of it have a forty-degree pitch. About the same angle as the ramp of an Olympic ski jump.” Brenna zipped her jacket to the neck. “Runs right under the chairlift. You want to make a fool of yourself with an audience, you’re going to pick that one.”

  Tyler ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Or if you want to ski something challenging once it’s dark. She asked me if we could do it together.”

  Brenna looked at him. “And?”

  Tyler was white-faced. “I said no.”

  * * *

  JESS STOOD ON the top of Devil’s Gully staring at the reflection of lights on the snow.

  It was steep. And it looked worse with the dark all around and no people. There were still people skiing on the easier runs that led to the village, but this run was hard-core. Punishingly difficult. She remembered Gramps and her father talking about it.