Trails Merge

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Trails Merge Page 13

by Rachel Spangler


  Parker knew that Campbell was gone. Even in her sleep she’d felt the shift of their bodies separating, and the emptiness that she’d awoken with was tempered by relief at not having to face the woman who’d held her all night. She wasn’t ready to see in her in the soft light of morning. The myriad feelings that washed over her every time she recalled the feel of Campbell’s body lightly pressed against hers were too much to let herself dwell on, so she decided to put some distance between herself and the memory.

  She smelled coffee the minute she opened the bedroom door and instinctively headed toward it. In the kitchen Sammy sat on a stool watching an infomercial for a product that promised to make food in half the time, even though it came out slightly deformed. He smiled when she approached. “Good morning, Parker. How do you take your coffee?”

  “Hi, Sammy.” She returned his smile, which was nearly as contagious as his sister’s. “One cream, one sugar.”

  He offered his stool to Parker before hurrying around to the kitchen. “Cam said you had a little scare last night. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better now, thanks to Campbell.” She said the words before she realized their double meaning.

  If Sammy noticed the blush rise in Parker’s face, he didn’t show it. “Good to hear. She went to have your car dug out, but she should be home before too long.” He set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, then hesitated as though he wanted to say more but was unsure whether he should. “I’m biased, but you know she’s pretty special, right?”

  Parker stopped, her mug poised in midair. The question was serious, and the fact that Sammy had asked it carried a lot of weight. “Sammy, you are biased,” she smiled, “but anyone who’s been around Campbell for more than a few minutes can tell she’s special. I may not know her like you do, but I realize she’s one of a kind.”

  “Good.” He nodded, seeming relieved at her answer, and added more nervously, “Then I’ll save us both the awkwardness of asking what your intentions are with her.”

  “Sammy, I don’t know what you think happened last night…” Even as Parker began the denial, she felt herself leaning back into the comfort of Campbell’s arms and hoped her face wasn’t her giving away.

  “I know,” Sammy said. “Campbell told me it was completely innocent, but I like you, and I love her, so I thought you should know that if anything ever were to happen somewhere down the line, you should know that she’s been hurt pretty badly.”

  “Lynn?”

  “Yes. And that’s all I’m going to say. She’d hate for me to be the one to tell you about it. Just be careful, okay? I’ll have your head if you hurt my sister.” Sammy shuffled his feet, visibly uncomfortable with the topic and probably jittery about having threatened her. He ran his hand through his sandy brown hair in a gesture with an uncanny resemblance to his sister when she was nervous.

  Parker opened her mouth, but the sound of the front door opening stopped her. What had Sammy hesitated to tell her about Lynn?

  “Good morning,” Campbell said as she rounded the corner, windblown and flushed from the cold.

  “Good morning.” Campbell was stunning enough before last night, but now Parker wondered if she would ever be able to see her again without remembering what it felt like to be held by her. She almost wished she had made more of the contact between them and slid her hands over her finely muscled torso, run her fingers through those golden locks, maybe even finished that kiss they’d never quite gotten to last week.

  “Dad and I got your car pulled out of the snowbank. It’s outside,” Campbell said calmly, giving no indication that she was rattled by the time they’d spent in each other’s arms. Was Parker reading too much into it? “It’s not too bad—pretty dirty and the paint roughed up a little, but no dents or engine trouble that I could tell.”

  “Thank you so much, Campbell. You’re a lifesaver.”

  Campbell blushed. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad I was there for you.”

  “Me, too,” Parker said seriously, and she meant it. In only a few hours, she had experienced relief, security, comfort, arousal, and emptiness, all tied to Campbell. Campbell was deeply wounded from her past with Lynn, but Sammy was right. She was special. Steady, dependable, and so giving of herself, she was also a strong, sexy woman, and that combination was enough to send both Parker’s mind and body in directions she wasn’t sure either of them could control.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Parker looked up from the paperwork she was scanning before the staff meeting started and flashed a full-fledged smile. She wore khakis and a black sweater, and a single ruby hung from a delicate silver chain around her neck. Her long dark hair was pulled back loosely, revealing simple, elegant earrings to match her necklace. She gave the impression of being poised yet approachable, the epitome of class. A twinge of arousal hit Campbell again when she thought about last night, and in a brief moment of panic, she heard the familiar refrain. What could a woman like that possibly see in someone like you?

  Then Parker spoke and wiped away that sliver of doubt. “Campbell, you’re just the person I’ve been waiting for.”

  Campbell was sure that everyone in the room could sense her inordinate pleasure. “Why? Did you find another snowbank?”

  Parker laughed and shoved her gently. They rarely shared playful physical contact, but it seemed natural now. “No, I just haven’t been skiing in over two weeks.”

  “Well, there’s a ski hill right outside your office.” Campbell settled into their comfortable banter.

  “So I’ve been told,” Parker said. “I’ve also heard that I can’t really market it effectively unless I experience it.”

  “That does make sense.”

  “I just can’t seem to tear myself away from all my paperwork and business meetings, and since Christmas is only two week away I’m only getting busier.”

  Campbell nodded, repressing a grin. “Perhaps you haven’t had the right motivation.”

  Parker played along. “And what do you suggest?”

  “Maybe you need to have one of those business meetings out on the slopes.”

  “Well,” Parker pretended to mull the idea over, “I really should review some of the details for the ski instruction, just to make sure everyone’s on the same page for our big upcoming conference.”

  “I could probably pencil you in for a three o’clock appointment. We could run through some of your concerns between my lessons.” Campbell felt a surge of joy at the thought of being back on the slopes with Parker. Any excuse to see her would be wonderful, but skiing together seemed perfect.

  “That sounds great.” Parker wrote down the time in her date book. “Where should I meet you?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. Just head out onto the mountain. I’ll find you.”

  “Great,” Sammy interjected. “Now that’s settled, what else do you need from the rest of us?”

  A hint of color rose in Parker’s face, and Campbell realized everyone had just overheard their flirting. Flirting? Is that what that was? Surely not. She must be imagining things. Their relationship had definitely taken on a new tone, but she reasoned that waking up in each other’s arms, no matter how inadvertently, would do that to a friendship. Still, their banter had been friendly, nothing more, or so she tried to convince herself. It had been a long time since she’d flirted with anyone, and even if she decided to start now, remembering that Parker was way out of her league was enough to kill that mood.

  Parker flipped through her notes, a move Campbell thought was probably more a habit than a necessity. “I’m sure no one needs to be told how busy next month will be, but we’re right on track for the big events of New Year’s Eve and the Blow-Off Bash. We’re at over ninety percent occupancy for both, and I’ve arranged the same DJ for New Year’s Eve and the last night of the conference.”

  “Do you think they could DJ the employee Christmas party, too?” Irene asked.

  “I didn’t know we were having one.”


  “Every year we throw a little get-together a few days before the Christmas rush gets out of hand,” Janelle explained. “It’s a way for us to all hang out, have some fun, and meet the new staff.”

  Greg chuckled. “Some of us enjoy getting out of the office to have fun once in a while.”

  “Gotcha.” Parker nodded as she took down the information, choosing to ignore the dig from Greg. “What’s the date? I’ll call the DJ.”

  “What about the Thursday before Christmas?” Emery said, without even glancing at his calendar. “That’s before the rush begins, and it gives us plenty of time to recover before New Year’s Eve.”

  “Sounds good,” Parker said. “Anything else I can help with?”

  “I’ve got the food covered.” Janelle ticked through her own mental checklist for the upcoming events. “We’ll just do snacks for the Christmas party to keep it casual. New Year’s Eve will be simple but a little classier, with some hors d’oeuvres and champagne for the midnight toast. The conference will have something different each night, but we’ve already bought enough alcohol to keep a small fleet of sailors plied with liquor for a week.”

  “And all the reservations are set. We’ll just need to stay on our toes as far as special requests go,” Emery confirmed.

  Campbell sat back and watched the dynamics of the room. Parker was obviously running the show, as was to be expected since she was the point person on both the New Year’s Eve Party and Blow-Off Bash. She seemed at ease with the free-flowing style of the group and had adapted a much more casual approach since her first meeting almost two months earlier. She still hadn’t overcome her addiction to her day planner, but she appeared much more comfortable with the back-and-forth, conversational style in which business was done at Bear Run.

  Campbell would like to see Parker as part of the family, but she would never fit in here. She was too independent, too goal-oriented, and still too uptight. Besides, the continuing clash between her father and Parker was making everyone uncomfortable. Campbell once again remembered how miserable she would make herself if she even considered the possibility that someone like Parker might want to be with someone like her. Hadn’t her five-year-long mistake with Lynn taught her anything? She needed to forget about women like Lynn and Parker and focus on the ski business and life with her family. She would make a great old-maid cousin, and eventually an outstanding old-maid aunt to Sammy’s kids. That was the life she had chosen.

  People began shuffling to their feet, a clear sign that Campbell had missed the end of the meeting. “So I’ll see you at three?” she asked Parker as she slipped on her coat.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Parker confirmed with another megawatt smile.

  Try as she might, Campbell couldn’t focus on the fact that falling for Parker was a sure-fire way to get hurt again. Every time she looked into those stunning brown eyes, she fell a little farther out of her comfort zone. Rather than try to find her voice through the faint flutter in her chest, she simply nodded and tried to exit gracefully, but she didn’t miss the look her parents shared as she left. She couldn’t read their expression as easily as usual. It might have been curiosity, amusement, or apprehension, and at that moment all three were justified.

  *

  Parker was giddy at the thought of hitting the slopes with Campbell, though she tried to pretend she was excited about the skiing rather than the company. She stopped by the ski-rental booth and picked up her gear, then headed for the base of the mountain. It was a weekday, so the crowd was thin, most of the skiers either local college students or those who had likely taken off work early to beat the after-school rush.

  As she clicked her boots into her skis, she admitted Campbell had been right. That click was quickly becoming one of her favorite sounds. She used her poles to push herself to the lift, and in a matter of seconds she was whisked up the mountain. Despite the slightly gray condition of the sky, the snow was smooth and pure white, interrupted only by the evergreen of the pine trees that served as natural barriers between various trails.

  She scanned the slopes, searching for Campbell, which she did every time she glanced out her office windows. She spotted several red jackets, the color that the ski instructors favored, but she couldn’t make out much beyond that. Instead, she focused on the impending dismount from the lift, executing the once-treacherous move with ease.

  She wondered whether she should wait there and catch Campbell exiting the lift, but then she remembered Campbell’s promise to find her. That prospect, coupled with the allure of the slopes, was too hard to resist, so she started down the familiar green trail she’d skied with the Carsons on Thanksgiving.

  Beginning her descent, she swiveled her skis from French fries to pizza a couple of times to make sure she still had a feel for the terrain. She made a mental note to tighten her right boot when she got a chance and then began to practice some turns. It felt so wonderful to be out on the mountain with the cold air invigorating her and the gentle slope pushing her to go faster. Energy surged through her, giving her a rush as she cut smoothly from one side to the other, flowing with her surroundings.

  Parker didn’t feel rusty at all, but in tune with her body and energized by the freedom of being out from behind her desk. She wanted to push harder and began to understand how Campbell and Sammy could take off at dangerous speeds around hairpin turns. Without much thought she leaned left and pointed the tips of her skis toward an intermediate slope that intersected several of the mountain’s main thoroughfares in a path toward the main lodge. Her speed increased noticeably with the steeper grade and more firmly packed surface, but she stayed in control, measuring each turn carefully and reacting almost instinctively to the little dips and rises of the trail. She flew past beautiful scenery, virtually untouched except for the occasional signs marking the intersection of another trail or pointing to various lifts and landmarks. Her body moved naturally, her toned muscles flexing and retracting with each pull of the mountain. Skiing could become an addiction, with the runners’ high she already felt.

  Suddenly another skier flashed into her field of vision, his path set to collide with hers as he hurtled down the mountain on a slope running above hers. She barely had time to react or consciously register the fact that skiers downhill were supposed to have the right of way. But the other skier didn’t appear to see her, judging by his full-throttle approach. She made an instinctual decision, out of fear and inexperience, and threw her skis into the sideway position she’d seen Campbell and the other Carsons use to instantly halt their forward progress. However, instead of skillfully throwing a wave of snow and stopping gracefully, she managed only to plant her feet, leaving one ski behind as she hurtled forward.

  Her shoulder hit the snow first, immediately followed by the rest of her body. The impact knocked both of her poles from her grip, and the momentum kept her rolling, limbs flopping like a rag doll’s. Her vision blurred from the rapid movement, and her mind was too jumbled to focus on any action other than tucking into a ball. She rolled for what seemed like an eternity until slowly she came to rest in a small rise of snow at the edge of the trail.

  As she lay there panting, she began to take inventory of her extremities, first wiggling each finger, then each toe to make sure everything functioned without pain. Once convinced all of her body parts were still attached properly, she sat up and surveyed her surroundings. She was off to the side of the trail, resting in the softer snow that the groomer hadn’t packed solid. One ski and pole were lying near her, but she couldn’t see the others. Then Campbell appeared, carrying her missing equipment.

  She could have been a classic advertisement for a mountain adventure. Her ski clothes, which would have appeared bulky and awkward on most people, were like a second skin on her. Her hair peeked out from under her cap, and her ski goggles did little to dim the sparkling blue of her eyes.

  “Ah, my knight in shining ski clothes,” Parker said when Campbell stopped next to her. She was at once embarrassed and reliev
ed.

  Campbell chuckled. “So I take it you’re okay?”

  Parker rose clumsily to her feet and trudged through the snow and back onto the trail. “Yeah, my pride is a little injured, but everything else seems to be working.”

  “Sometimes pride is harder to mend than a broken bone,” Campbell said softly. Parker wondered which of them the statement was directed to. Perhaps it rang true for them both.

  “But that wreck wasn’t entirely your fault. This ski popped off too easily,” Campbell continued. “Why are you still using beginner skis when you’re obviously set on tackling blue slopes?”

  “I just go to the rental counter and grab one in my size. I didn’t know there was a difference.”

  Campbell smiled and shook her head. “Skis tuned for beginners pop right off when you do more advanced moves like you tried back there. They help avoid injuries but don’t exactly win you any style points.”

  “I wasn’t trying to win any style points,” Parker said seriously. “I was trying to not get hit.”

  “Well, let’s make another run, and maybe we can manage to not get hit with style.”

  Parker shook her head. “I’m not trying that again anytime soon.”

  “Sure you are. We’ll just take it at an even speed and stay more alert. When these trails merge, you have to take some extra care. You never know who you might run into,” Campbell said with a wink.

  Did she just wink at me? Parker couldn’t hide a smile as she clicked back into her skis and followed Campbell down the rest of the trail. How did Campbell make anything seem possible? She was good-looking, good-natured, and good to have around. She was just all-around good. Parker wasn’t sure she would survive another fall like she’d just taken, but with Campbell in the lead, she would take the risk. But only on the slopes.

 

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