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Treacherous Slopes

Page 8

by Terri Reed


  “A new Thai restaurant that I haven’t tried yet took over the space where Fischer’s Bakery used to be,” she said, pointing out the window.

  “Too bad about the bakery. They had the best bear claws around,” Nick remarked, remembering back to when he and Cody would ride their bikes into town and stop in to say hi to Irving Fischer. He’d always give them a free carton of chocolate milk to go with their pastries. “What happened to Mr. Fischer?”

  “He retired and moved to Florida,” Julie said. “He said the winters were getting to his bones.”

  “I can’t imagine a nicer place to retire to than Bend,” Nick stated. “The winters here are mild compared to the winters in Lake Placid or Deer Park, Utah.”

  “I’ve never been to either,” she said. She leaned forward to give Ted directions, leading them out of downtown toward the resort area a few miles outside of town. Sitting back, she said, “The whole community has embraced going green. Everyone’s going organic and using local growers and solar power so they leave as little a carbon footprint as possible.”

  “There are places all across the country going green,” Nick said. “The push to recycle and conserve resources is a good thing.”

  “I volunteer with the Upper Deschutes River Council helping to care for the Deschutes River. Once a year in June we have a cleanup day. It’s actually a fun time as the community comes together to pick up trash and pull noxious weeds.”

  “Cody and I loved to white-water raft down the Deschutes. Do they still allow that?”

  “Sure do,” Julie said. “You should come home in the summer and go rafting.”

  He held her gaze and found himself drifting into the clear blue of her eyes. “If my training schedule allows time.” He could easily make time, but coming home was painful with memories of Cody everywhere he looked.

  “I’d like to hear about your training regime.”

  “It’s rigorous and demanding, but I love every second of it.” And with his bruised arm keeping him off the slopes, he’d better hit a gym soon. He didn’t want to lose his edge.

  “Loving what you do is important.”

  “And you love being in front of the camera,” he said. “You’re very natural at it.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t start out that way. I was a nervous mess the first few times I practiced, but Bob was patient and helped me.”

  Nick had no doubt Bob enjoyed helping Julie. The guy was at least ten years older than her and probably liked having a younger woman looking up to him. “Are you and Bob...”

  “What?” She blinked at him. “Oh, no. We’re friends. He’s a good guy, though.”

  Recalling the way Bob had looked at her and acted all protective of her, Nick doubted the guy wanted to remain in the friend category. He didn’t blame him. Julie was a great gal with a keen sense of humor and easy to get along with. She would be the type of girl he’d want to keep close if he was in a place in his life to have a relationship.

  Well, except for her chosen profession. Or soon-to-be profession, he amended. He had no doubt she’d do well anchoring a segment on the televised lifestyle magazine Northwest Edition. She was engaging when she asked questions, making him feel as though they were friends chatting as they’d been doing in the car, instead of an interview. He was impressed with her.

  However, he couldn’t let his guard down around her. He couldn’t control what she chose to say in front of the camera. And he was finding himself unable to control his emotions for her.

  At some point she’d put her career ahead of his feelings. She would ask how he felt when Cody died, just as the reporters who’d camped outside the funeral had asked. Just like the reporters who crowded around him after every competition did. It didn’t matter if he won or lost or placed, the reporters always reverted to the rumors surrounding Cody’s death. The inane question of how he felt scraped across his nerves.

  But it didn’t matter how many times he corrected each and every newshound who stuck a microphone in his face demanding to know if Cody had been under the influence when he took that last jump, they didn’t believe him. The smug, you-can’t-fool-me look that seemed to be a universal expression among reporters made Nick’s hands clench.

  His chest expanded with the force of his inhale. He slowly let it out, hoping to curb the simmering anger that wanted to bubble up.

  No, he couldn’t forget that Julie’s promotion rested on how well she could exploit his family’s tragedy.

  SEVEN

  A guard sat in the gatehouse at the entrance to the subdivision where Julie’s stepfather, Marshal, lived. Floodlights illuminated a beautiful waterfall feature next to the tall metal gate and high brick wall that surrounded the neighborhood. Impressed with the setup, Nick turned to Julie. “You weren’t kidding when you said gated community. Someone would have to have rappelling gear to climb that wall.”

  “Security’s a big deal for a lot of these people,” she replied as she jumped out of the backseat. She went in to the guardhouse to talk to the guy. She returned a few moments later with passes for them. “That’s Steve, and he gave me passes for all of you. That way you can get in and out when you need to. I told him to expect Gordon soon.”

  The guard opened the big black gate. They drove through and proceeded through the neighborhood. Marshal’s house was on a back lot with the backyard butting up against a golf course.

  Away from the lights of town, the sky seemed darker and the stars more brilliant. The air smelled of pine and freshness, like the first snow of the season when he and Cody were kids. They’d wake early, gear up and make first tracks. The memories made Nick’s heart ache. He wished he could bottle up the scent and take it with him as a keepsake of happier times.

  The front of Marshal’s home was made of rock and cedar. He couldn’t see how big the place was in the dark, but he had the distinct impression it was sprawling. Julie unlocked the eight-foot-tall front door and led the way inside. Low lights from wall sconces gleamed on the entryway’s cherrywood floors.

  “Come in.” She walked into the house, leaving him and Ted to trail behind.

  “Where’s your stepdad?” Nick asked. The house appeared closed up for the night. Though there were no lamps turned on in the main part of the house, light coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows dominating the back wall lent enough illumination that he could tell the kitchen and living room were combined in a lodge-style great room. The soaring ceiling gave a sense of spacious luxury as he passed through the living room and followed Julie down a hall. She hit the light switch, turning on overhead canned lights, creating a soft yellow glow.

  “He’s at a festival event tonight, schmoozing.”

  “Schmoozing?”

  “Yes. He’s in real estate. It’s good business to network. You never know when someone will decide to put a piece of property up for sale. We probably won’t see him until Monday morning. He’ll come in very late and leave before the sun’s even up.”

  “Even on a Sunday?”

  “Weekends are the busiest days in his business.” She opened the door on the right. “Ted, this is the closest room to the front door, as you requested.”

  “Thank you, Julie.” Ted moved past her to inspect the bedroom. Nick caught a glimpse of a bed covered in a light brown comforter.

  “Nick, you’ll be across the hall,” she said, moving to open the door. “Do you think Lee and Frank will mind sharing a room?”

  Nick snorted. “They’ll be stoked to sleep on a real mattress after spending most of the season in the motor home.”

  She smiled. “Good. I’ll put them and Gordon in the other wing with Marshal. Each of the rooms has an en-suite bathroom.”

  “Where’s your room?”

  Even in the dim light of the hall, he saw the blush working its way up her neck. She pointed to the last door at the end of the corridor. “That’s my room when I stay here.”

  A knock at the front door had her brushing past him. He moved to follow her as Ted stepped in fr
ont of them. “Let me.”

  Julie halted. Nick bumped into her back, his hand reflexively curving around her waist for balance.

  Ted strode away to answer the door.

  Nick’s hand lingered. “Sorry about that.”

  She turned to face him. “No worries.”

  The light overhead hit her hair, making the strands shine. He noticed the cute sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. His gaze landed on her parted lips, and his breathing hitched as longing tugged at him. Slowly he raised his gaze to meet hers. Awareness shimmered in the air like an electric current. The urge to pull her close gripped him in a tight vise.

  Voices coming from the entryway shattered the moment.

  Nick stepped back.

  Shaken by the strong allure of attraction, he ran a hand through his hair.

  Julie’s top teeth tugged at her bottom lip as uncertainty clouded her eyes.

  “You’d better show the guys to their rooms.”

  She nodded and quickly retreated, disappearing toward the front of the house.

  Slowly he followed, chiding himself for the momentary lapse in judgment. The last thing he needed to do was muddle the situation with Julie by giving in to his attraction to her. He had no intentions of finding himself in a romance. He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. Especially not with the beautiful Julie, because she had the power to hurt him, to hurt his family. He had to stay cautious and keep an emotional barrier between them.

  He hung back as Julie showed first Gordon to his room and then Frank and Lee to the room they would share. Two double beds were decked out in matching gray checked comforters. A plasma television and gaming system hung on the wall opposite the bed. The room looked like a teenage boy’s room.

  Frank dropped his duffel bag at the foot of the closest double bed. “Same old, same old. Stuck with you again.”

  Lee set his bag on the double bed closest to the window. “Dude, don’t be a jerk. It beats a hotel.”

  “Yeah, but we have to share while the star gets his own room.”

  “Our day will come,” Lee said quietly.

  Frank snorted. “Yeah, maybe sooner rather than later.”

  Nick frowned. Where was this resentment coming from? He stepped into the doorway next to Julie. He met her curious gaze and shrugged. “Frank, buddy, I’ll share with Lee. You take the single room.”

  Frank jerked around to face Nick. For a moment he looked tempted, then he shook his head. “Naw, man. That’s okay. Besides, Nick, you need your beauty sleep.”

  “There’s a pullout couch in the study if you’d prefer, Frank,” Julie offered.

  He waved her off. “I’m good. I’ve got earplugs.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lee groused.

  “You snore, dude,” Frank stated, then looked to Nick for confirmation. “Right?”

  Nick grinned. “Like a freight train.”

  Lee grabbed his chest and staggered back in mock pain. “You wound me.”

  Nick snorted. “Frank, you’re a drama queen.”

  “Takes one to know one,” he shot back with a grin.

  Lee laughed. “I’m surrounded by divas.”

  “Hey, you’d better watch it,” Frank grumbled and flopped back on the bed. “Ooh, nice and firm.” He sat up and looked at Julie. “In all seriousness, thank you for hosting us.”

  Julie inclined her head. “You’re welcome. And good night.”

  She walked back to the kitchen.

  Nick followed. Ted closed his phone and walked into the living room to inspect the sliding glass door.

  Nick noted the well-appointed kitchen and expensive granite. “This is a nice place. Big for only your stepdad to live here.”

  “Marshal has family from his first marriage,” she explained. “His eldest son has two teenage boys who share that room when they visit.”

  “Where do they live?” Nick asked as they headed back toward Nick’s room. Ted stayed a few paces behind them.

  “Canada. His ex-wife moved there after their divorce. When Marshal married my mom, she insisted they have enough room for his other kids and their families during holidays. They’ve only come for a few visits that I’m aware of.”

  “That’s too bad,” Nick said. “It must be hard on Marshal.”

  Julie picked at her thumbnail for a moment, then tilted her head. “Yes. I think it is. He goes up there occasionally to see his grandkids.”

  “Do you get along with your stepsiblings?”

  She leaned against the door frame while Ted disappeared into his room.

  “I’ve only seen them a handful of times,” she said. “They were much older than me when my mom married Marshal. And they weren’t happy that he was remarrying.”

  “That must have been hard on you.”

  “I was used to being alone, so whether they wanted to see me or not didn’t really make much difference.”

  “What happened to your father?”

  She pushed away from the door frame and walked into the bedroom, flipping on the light. “He was killed in action in Desert Storm.”

  Sympathy curled a fist in Nick’s gut as he joined her in the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t know him. I was only three when he died.” She moved to the window and closed the curtains.

  The room was large with light brown, plush-looking carpet and walls that matched. A queen-size sleigh bed covered in muted blues and reds sat opposite a forty-inch plasma screen. An armoire stood in the corner beside a tall window covered by a patterned curtain matching the bedcoverings.

  “Nice digs,” he said as he set his duffel on the floor in front of the cedar chest at the foot of the bed.

  She lingered by the door, looking as if she had something she wanted to say.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked.

  “I was hoping you’d change your mind about coming to church with me in the morning.”

  He inhaled as he turned the question over in his mind. He had contemplated attending, but that was before it was clear whoever wanted him dead had followed him home. Now he wasn’t sure it would be safe. For himself and especially for everyone else. He was sure God would understand if he missed the service. He exhaled. “No. I’m not going.”

  Disappointment flickered in her eyes.

  Compelled to reassure her he hadn’t abandoned his faith, he added, “I’d like to, but it wouldn’t be safe. I need to lie low.”

  “Right. It’s too bad, though. I’m sure everyone would like to see you. Your parents usually attend.”

  Longing welled up. He missed his parents, but wasn’t sure of the reception he’d receive. It was good to know Mom still went to church. “I’ll see them on Thursday. It will be the one-year anniversary of Cody’s death.” His heart contracted painfully in his chest. Guilt ate at him.

  Compassion softened her expression. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s a memorial service at the church. You’re welcome to come.”

  “Thank you. Your parents will be grateful to have you there. It will mean a lot to them.”

  Emptiness settled in the pit of his stomach. “I’m not so sure.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Why do you say that?”

  He swallowed as the need to talk bubbled up. But could he trust her not to use his pain to further her career? “I’m punchy. Don’t listen to a word I say.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you think your parents wouldn’t be happy to see you?”

  Scrubbing a hand over his face, he took a seat on the chest at the foot of the bed. “Off the record?”

  For a moment she was still and quiet, then she heaved a sigh and nodded. “Yes. Off the record.”

  He forced the words out. “Because I’m responsible for Cody’s death.”

  Her arms fell to her side. She looked him hard in the eyes. “So you’re saying you gave your brother drugs?”

  “What?” Outrage at the suggestion choke
d him. He figured it was only a matter of time before she brought that up.

  “Nick, you know as well as I do the top trending theory for Cody’s death is drug usage. Witnesses claimed to have seen him taking something suspicious and acting as if he was under the influence.”

  “The internet is wrong. The witnesses are wrong. The autopsy showed no evidence of illegal drugs. He was exhausted, not high. We both were. We’d been training hard and competing even harder.” Guilt tugged the truth from him. “I shouldn’t have let him take that last jump. If I had stopped him, he’d be here.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  Memories of that day rushed in, making his chest twist with pain. “I’d been working on a new trick, pushing the limit and doing okay. My landings needed work, but I was physically wiped. That had been happening a lot lately. After my last jump, I decided to call it quits for the day. But Cody wouldn’t.” Nick met her gaze. “He tried to do the same trick. It was out of his reach.”

  She winced. “He crashed.”

  Nick swallowed back the bile rising up at the memory. “He didn’t make a full rotation and came down on his head. Broke—” Nick’s voice caught. He had to clear his throat before he could continue. “Broke his neck. The doctors said he died instantly.”

  Julie moved to sit beside him. Taking his hand, she said, “Cody’s death was not your fault. He chose to try something risky. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

  “But I do. If I hadn’t been showing off by doing the trick, then he wouldn’t have felt like he needed to try it. Cody had grown increasingly cocky as the day wore on. A sign the fatigue was affecting him. He was always trying to one-up me.”

  He shook his head with self-loathing. “If I had made him stop...”

  “That’s a lot of ifs,” she said.

  “Yeah, if only I had done something different.”

  “But Nick, life doesn’t work that way.”

  He blew out a breath. “No, it doesn’t.” His fingers curled around hers. “I don’t understand why he had to die.” He turned to stare at her as the words he’d held in for so long came tumbling out. “Why did God let him die?”

 

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