Trails Merge

by Rachel Spangler

  “Then you underestimated me, Campbell Carson,” Parker replied, her eyes still shining with the pure joy of her accomplishment.

  Parker’s words, combined with the contact between their bodies, caused a heat to spread through Campbell that she hadn’t experienced in a long time and hadn’t been sure she would ever feel again. Holding Parker had ignited something unexpected and slightly scary. It was more than the incidental contact they had toyed with until that point. This connection was purposeful and powerful. It was too good, too familiar, and too dangerous. The last time she felt like this she had opened herself to pain and devastation. She quickly broke the contact between them and said seriously, “You’re right. I did underestimate you, but it won’t happen again.”

  *

  “That’s perfect,” Campbell shouted as Parker followed her down the beginners’ slope. “Make a full C with your turn, then finish it out all the way across the hill.”

  Parker easily made the turn, following exactly in the tracks Campbell had just made. Her skis were almost completely parallel, and she appeared perfectly balanced. It had been only a week since their first lesson, and already Parker had begun to show the form of an intermediate skier. They had moved from the bunny trail to the full-length beginner slope, and both of them were making the most of the opportunity to spend longer periods of time skiing and less time on the slow-moving carpet lift.

  Campbell worked every day covering and grooming the slopes in preparation for the resort’s season opening, and Parker seemed equally occupied, but they both made time to meet for nearly two hours every evening, and they stopped only when Campbell forced Parker to take a break. She was borderline obsessive when she set her mind to something, and she needed frequent reminders that she was just out there to have fun. Otherwise she could slip into an intensity that rivaled that of Olympic athletes. Campbell had never seen anyone like Parker, whose determination impressed her and whose single-mindedness bothered her somewhat. Parker’s intense focus was, however, appealing, and at times when she let her guard down and simply enjoyed herself, she embodied beauty and grace. During those times she was so striking that Campbell’s breath caught.

  “That was great. See? You don’t have to fight your skis. Just flatten them out and be patient. They’ll find the right line.”

  “I thought you said these things don’t have a mind of their own,” Parker called back.

  “Touché.” Campbell laughed. “Think you can handle a little more speed?”

  “Bring it on.”

  Without another word they turned downhill, this time cutting their turns closer together and hitting the last little steep with some speed. They glided smoothly over the freshly groomed snow, cutting back and forth across the slopes in an elegant S-shaped pattern. Campbell felt like a teenager again. She was happy, relaxed, and even thrilled to share the slopes with Parker coming up quickly behind her. In that moment she was exactly where she wanted to be. She cut through the first natural snow of the year, about half an inch that had fallen the night before. She was showboating, but she couldn’t restrain herself from swooshing to an abrupt stop, kicking up a wave of snow with the tails of her skis.

  Parker stopped gracefully at her side, a full-fledged smile on her face. “I’m starting to see what you enjoy about this.” She held her arms out. “It all fits in perfect harmony. The mountain, the snow, the trees swaying in the wind, and when you’re on the powder, it’s like you’re riding right along with it.”

  Campbell caught her breath. She had almost seen something click inside Parker, as if Parker was seeing her surroundings for the first time. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”

  Parker seemed caught off guard by the abrupt change of subject. “I really haven’t thought about it. I don’t think I’ll go back to Chicago, since that’ll be two days before we open. I was planning to take the day off, though.”

  “Would you like to spend the day with me and my family?” Campbell asked without even thinking. “We do a whole big meal with all the trimmings, and then we spend the afternoon on the slopes. It’s a time for us to have the resort to ourselves, just the family, before we all get too busy.”

  “Actually, I’d rather sleep in. I’m just not into the whole family thing. It’s a little stifling for my tastes. Maybe I’ll come by for some skiing later, if I get bored.”

  Parker’s words sounded so much like Lynn’s that Campbell felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She had to work hard to hide the flash of pain that surged through her.

  *

  Parker eyed the controls of the lift carefully. She knew how to turn it on. She’d seen Campbell do it many times over the past week. She also knew she probably shouldn’t touch it. It was the evening before Thanksgiving, and Campbell was late for their lesson. Time was closing in on Parker. The resort would open the day after tomorrow, and she had been invited to ski with the Carsons before that. Her reputation was on the line. Losing her credibility in Chicago had shaken her to the core. She was at Bear Run to pull herself back together, and the last thing she needed was to make a fool of herself. Campbell had taught her so much since their lessons began, but Parker wasn’t satisfied with just being passable. She wanted to come across as competent. Anything less would be a failure.

  She glanced at her watch one more time. Campbell was fifteen minutes late. “Oh, screw it,” she muttered, and began to flip switches on the lift’s power terminal. She held her breath as the machine creaked to life. Parker was almost positive she had it running correctly before she allowed one of the chairs to whisk her up the mountain. She spent the ride reviewing everything Campbell had told her lately—“Relax, go with the flow, just enjoy yourself.” Campbell wasn’t giving her much technical instruction anymore. Most of her directions focused on attitude and demeanor, and it was a little disconcerting how well she was able to read Parker’s moods.

  She exited the chair at the top of the mountain and examined the trail below her, which seemed more daunting without Campbell by her side. She really didn’t need Campbell there anymore, but she enjoyed her company. She was witty and always managed to crack a joke at the right time. She didn’t shrink at Parker’s nasty temper, and she could hold her own in an argument if she needed to, though thankfully they had been arguing less. Campbell was gorgeous all the time, but especially when she smiled, and she had been smiling at Parker a lot more lately. No matter how many times it happened, Parker was never quite prepared for the way her stomach tightened. She wished she could have the reassurance of that heart-stopping smile right now instead of just the vast expanse of trail before her.

  Shaking her head, she pushed off lightly. Right now she needed to focus on skiing, not Campbell. Her skis glided over the top of the snow, which was running faster than usual. She turned in a wide arc to control her speed, just like she’d been taught, but her edges didn’t dig in nearly as deep as she had hoped. Immediately she looked up for Campbell’s reassurances or direction. The move had become so second nature that she’d momentarily forgotten Campbell wasn’t there. Slowly she pulled herself together and completed the turn before she started into another one in the opposite direction. She followed this shaky pattern all the way to the bottom of the slope and was silently congratulating herself on not falling when Campbell rushed out of the little wooden terminal that housed the lift controls.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Campbell shouted, her crystal blue eyes filled with fury.

  “I—I was, Jesus, I was just skiing,” Parker stammered, completely taken off guard by the outburst.

  “Alone?” Campbell closed the distance separating them so they were only a breath apart. “Did you start that lift?”

  “Yes.” Parker was thrown off by both Campbell’s anger and her close proximity, and her body temperature began to rise.

  “What’s wrong with you? That’s a half a million dollars’ worth of machinery, and you just flip switches and press buttons like it’s some kind of toy? What made
you think you had the right to touch the lift controls without so much as asking for a lesson in how to use them?”

  “You were late, and I needed some more practice, so I—”

  “So you what? You felt entitled to it? You thought the rules didn’t apply to you?”

  “Oh, come on, Campbell.” Parker had had enough and gave in to her own emotions. “It’s not rocket science. Grease monkeys and college dropouts run these things all season.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? That because you have a degree you’re somehow better or more qualified than the rest of our staff?”

  “No.” Now Campbell was putting words into her mouth. “I just meant that it wasn’t as complicated as you’re making it out to be. I didn’t break anything, did I? Nothing exploded. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Campbell took Parker’s face in her hands and pulled her in so that their noses were almost touching, and her entire body tightened with anticipation. “You were the only one out here. You could have been hurt. You could have been killed messing around with something you don’t understand because you’re too self-centered to wait a few minutes.”

  Campbell’s eyes were no longer filled with aggravation. They were pleading with her, seeming to search for any sign of understanding, and Parker melted into them. Her emotions were so raw there was no room for rational thought. The intensity in Campbell’s embrace overwhelmed her senses. A lustful haze blurred her vision, and the dull roar of her own blood rushed through her ears.

  Campbell didn’t appear to be faring any better. Her breath was coming in quick, shallow bursts that brushed warm against Parker’s skin, and her fingers trembled where they now grazed the edges of Parker’s jaw and cheeks. Campbell closed her eyes and neared almost imperceptibly, her lips laying the barest of touches against Parker’s so rapidly that if not for the heat that had passed between them, Parker would have wondered if they had actually kissed.

  “I’m sorry,” Campbell said, stepping back, her stunning blue eyes beginning to clear and focus. “I don’t know what I was doing.”

  “Please don’t apologize,” Parker whispered, unable to speak louder. Campbell seemed about to cry, or faint, or run away. In the end she chose the latter.

  “We’re done for the day. If you want to ski any more, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Campbell stated flatly, and then she was gone.

  As the shock and excitement of the encounter wore off, Parker watched her leave, feeling cold, empty, and confused.

  Chapter Eight

  Campbell sat on the back steps of her parents’ house, fastening the buckles on her ski boots. It was a Carson tradition to ski the mountain as a family before the resort opened to the public. She’d missed the experience last year, like so many other things. She’d planned to be here, but Lynn had wanted to stay in Madison and spend the holiday with her colleagues. She shook her head at the memory, just like all the other times she’d passed on the things she cared about because she’d cared about Lynn more.

  It wasn’t entirely Lynn’s fault. Campbell had worked hard to try and make her own dreams Lynn’s too, but her ex had never misled her about what she did or didn’t want in life. She didn’t want to be part of a family, she resented sharing any of Campbell’s attention, and nothing Campbell could have done would ever change that. It was her own fault for continuing to try. She wasn’t angry, but she was sad when she recalled the years they had shared.

  The back door opened and her father approached. His slight limp reminded her that he probably wouldn’t be skiing with them today, and she knew that bothered him. He was still good-looking, in spite of his gray-streaked hair and the creases around his eyes, but he seemed so much older now that Campbell had spent some time away from him. He was nearing retirement age, but Campbell doubted he’d ever quit working. He loved his family and the mountain too much and was resisting Parker’s new ideas because he didn’t want to let go of any part of the business he had spent his entire life building. He fiercely protected everything he loved and was leery of anything or anyone who tried to change it. Campbell loved him dearly, but she also longed for the time when he would entrust some of that responsibility to her. She loved this mountain too and wanted people to see it as much more than a simple winter playground.

  “Sammy and I are going down to start the lift. Why don’t you take the boys out in a few minutes? Your mother and Janelle will be there as soon as the kids wake up from their nap.”

  Campbell stood up and stomped her boots to make sure they were fastened snugly. “Sounds good.”

  Instead of heading back inside, Greg regarded her thoughtfully, then hugged her. “Have I told you lately how happy I am that you’re home?”

  Campbell smiled. “Thanks Dad. I’m happy to be here.”

  Greg seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but then thought better of it. “Good, that’s all that matters.” Campbell knew he wasn’t a man of many words, but he cared about her deeply. This was what she’d returned home for, the type of connection she’d missed with Lynn. Greg placed a kiss on her forehead before he released her. “I’ll let the boys know you’re ready.”

  The door had barely shut behind her father when Emery’s boys came out in full ski gear. Parker was behind them, pulling on her gloves. Campbell was surprised to see her. After the way things had gone the day before she hadn’t expected Parker to show up. The memories of their last heated encounter flooded over her and she flushed. She’d almost kissed Parker, but she didn’t know why. One minute she’d been so angry she’d wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. But when she touched the smooth skin of Parker’s face and fell into those deep brown eyes, all those emotions that had burned inside her had fused into something primal, something raw, and the expression of it twisted until her lips were brushing Parker’s. It wasn’t a kiss, not really, but it came so close to one that she couldn’t mistake where it had been headed. Since then, Campbell had alternately been embarrassed over what Parker must think of her (though she had made no move to pull away), angry at herself for letting her emotions boil over, and aroused at the pull between Parker’s body and her own.

  When Campbell finally willed herself to make eye contact with Parker, she returned her gaze with a weak smile. Parker was obviously nervous, and Campbell wasn’t sure if Parker was reacting to her or to the fact that she was about to hit the slopes with the entire family. She had become a solid skier in under two weeks, due to her determination and the hours she’d spent practicing every night, but today was the first day she’d skied in front of anyone other than Campbell. That had to be weighing on her mind.

  The four of them walked to the slope just a few yards from the back porch and clicked into their skis. The boys were off a second later. The joy of the first run of the year was entirely too much for them to wait for Parker and Campbell.

  “How are you feeling about this?” Campbell asked. She wanted to put her arm around Parker’s shoulder to offer some sense of comfort, but she simply didn’t trust her body.

  Parker took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I guess I’m ready.”

  “It’s just like we practiced.”

  “Except your whole family and my boss will be watching. I don’t want to embarrass us both.” Parker tried to chuckle, but Campbell saw through her attempt.

  “You won’t embarrass either of us, and my family members aren’t judgmental. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody,” she said softly. During their time together she had learned to recognize Parker’s bravado as a defense mechanism. “They already like you, or you wouldn’t be here today.”

  “They didn’t invite me. You did,” Parker answered jokingly, then a little more softly added, “Does that mean you like me?”

  Campbell felt an unexpected blush rise in her cheeks as she tried not to overthink the question. “Yes, I do,” she said. The memory of their near kiss reminded her just how much she liked Parker, but that wasn’t what Parker needed fr
om her right now. She cleared her throat self-consciously. “And I think you ski beautifully, or I wouldn’t have you out here right now.”

  Parker shook her head, but she smiled, too. “I guess it’s too late to turn back now.” Then she pushed off and headed downhill toward the bottom of the lift with Campbell close behind.

  The twins were already on the lift when they arrived, so Campbell and Parker slid into place as the next chair swung around. The nearness sent Campbell’s body temperature through the roof again. She was sure Parker would see right through her attempts to focus on anything and everything neutral. “You coming up?” she called to Sammy.

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “He won’t expect to go tearing down any black diamond runs, will he?” Parker asked.

  “Yeah, probably.” Campbell chuckled, thinking of Sammy’s daredevil streak. “But not right away. He’ll work his way up there as the afternoon wears on. I’d be more worried about the boys trying to go over the drop-off the first time out.”

  “Can they do that?” Parker sounded horrified at the idea.

  “Not yet. It’s not open, but they will before Christmas.”

  “How many of the trails will be open for the public tomorrow?”

  “We’re at almost sixty percent, so about fifteen or sixteen, which is good for this early in the year.”

  “Does that mean we’ll have a good season?”

  Campbell shrugged as they prepared to unload. “You can never know for sure, but the temperatures have been steady and we’re getting a little natural snow already. Those are both good signs.”

  They stood as their skis slid across the gentle grade of the snow-covered lift exit. Leaning slightly forward, they let their momentum carry them over to where the twins stood adjusting their boots and pole straps. Campbell didn’t even have to ask them where they wanted to go because she knew the answer. They were obviously planning a path that cut from a green slope to a more challenging blue one. Any avid skier would want to take this path back to the bottom of the lift, but she could sense Parker’s uncertainty, and just as Sammy slid to a stop next to them, she decided to offer a more moderate route.