Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 2: 5 Romantic Sporting Novellas

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Ruby? Are you all right?”

  Ruby looked up. Alice, their shop girl, was tying on her full-length apron.

  “I’m fine, Alice, thank you for asking.”

  Alice knotted her apron strings. “I guess the new doctor is here.”

  “You guessed right.”

  “Do you think we should postpone inventory for a few days?”

  Ruby peeked around the corner and frowned. “I think we might have to.”

  Alice came closer. “Have you met him?”

  “I have. He asked me to help out in the office.”

  “That’s wonderful! You’ve always been so good at it. I’m going to go ask Nona about inventory. Arthur will be in soon, maybe he and I could get started on it, at least.” A pretty pink blush colored Alice’s cheeks. She had a terrible crush on the gangly young man. Ruby was sure Alice’s affection was reciprocated, but both young people were too shy to act on their feelings.

  “That’s a good idea, Alice.” Ruby patted the girl’s shoulder. “I need to get some coffee upstairs for the doctor.”

  Ruby set about making a pot of coffee on the store’s small stove. While it percolated, she told her grandmother she would be helping Dr. Kelly upstairs.

  “Really?” Nona arched a brow. “He may be smarter than I gave him credit for.”

  Ruby laughed. “Nona!”

  “Well, he certainly seemed a bit slow when he came down this morning.”

  “I think he was overwhelmed. It was rather intimidating.” Ruby came to his defense without thinking, surprising herself.

  “Probably. The next day or so will test his mettle. I suppose if he sticks around we’ll have ourselves a new doctor.” Nona reached under the counter and pulled out a package. “Take this up with you.”

  Ruby accepted the parcel. “What is it?”

  “Wool socks. Long-handles. A good coat. The boy is woefully unprepared.”

  Ruby thought of his fine leather shoes. “Yes, he is.”

  Nona squeezed her shoulder. “It’s good you’ll be helping him. You can show him around, give him some advice.”

  5

  After the fifth appointment, Ruby found herself impressed by Dr. Kelly’s medical knowledge and the kind way he treated each patient. Doc Eby had been notoriously gruff. Warren—she’d started thinking of him by his given name, though she referred to him only as Dr. Kelly—was gentle with each patient, paying careful attention to their complaints, and asking each one if they had any questions about their diagnosis or his prescribed treatment plan.

  She opened the door to the next appointment and frowned. It wasn’t Mrs. Greaves, as she’d expected. It was two of Robbie’s friends, supporting her brother between them, his arms draped over their shoulders. Robbie’s face was contorted with pain. Horror washed over her.

  The trio shuffled in and deposited Robbie on the exam table.

  “Robbie! What happened?”

  Warren stepped over, drying his hands on a clean towel. “What do we have here?”

  Ruby put a protective hand on Robbie’s shoulder. “This is my younger brother, Robbie.”

  Robbie cleared his throat. “It’s Robert, Robert St. John.”

  Ruby thought she saw a smile flicker over Warren’s face, replaced almost instantly by what she’d come to recognize as his “doctor-face.”

  “Is it your ankle?”

  Robbie shook his head. “Knee.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Jumping.”

  Ruby loosed Robbie’s gaiter on the leg he indicated and pulled up the leg of his trousers.

  “Jumping?” Warren asked, examining the swollen knee and surrounding tissues.

  “Ski jumping.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  Ruby took a step back. There was no missing the disapproving chill in Warren’s tone. That, combined with the horror of Robbie injuring himself so close to the Winter Carnival competition, made her feel weak. She hated feeling weak.

  Robbie cleared his throat again. His voice was still changing. It crackled and squeaked, especially when he was nervous, as he was now. “I missed my landing. Twisted my knee.”

  Warren palpated the knee and surrounding areas with gentle, knowing fingers. “I think your skiing days might be over for a while. This kind of injury requires complete rest and elevation for at least a week to ten days, maybe more. After that, you’ll need to keep it immobilized and use crutches for a few more weeks.”

  Robbie moaned and his shoulders slumped. “Ah, Doc. Are you sure?”

  Ruby stepped forward. “Yes, he’s sure.” She would not risk her brother’s future for the sake of a season.

  Robbie frowned. “My team needs me, Ruby.”

  “Then they’ll have to find a replacement.” She glared at the two boys who’d brought Robbie in, wishing she could blame them for her brother’s injury, but knowing she couldn’t.

  “You could be my replacement, Ruby.” Robbie said. “You’re a better jumper than me anyway.”

  Warren swiveled and stared at her, reminding her of the way he’d reacted the night before. Horror? Disgust? She stiffened.

  “You know that won’t work, Robbie.”

  Robbie wasn’t giving up. “You could at least be a glider girl! You could tandem jump with Allen. He’s almost as good as you are.”

  Ruby shuddered. Glider girls jumped in tandem with a male partner, as though that would reduce the impact on the body or the danger of the jump. Personally, she thought it more dangerous than jumping alone. “Robbie, be quiet. Right now.”

  Warren faced Robbie, deliberately putting Ruby out of view. “Robert, you will be going home, propping this knee up in bed on pillows, keeping ice on it, and reading a book. Or several books.” Still ignoring Ruby, Warren crossed to a cabinet and opened the doors. He pulled out a pair of crutches. When he turned, he speared her with his gaze.

  “Miss Ruby, do you need to see your brother home?” His tone was cool, and she felt instantly defensive, a condition she found annoying.

  “His friends can take him home.” She pointed to the boys, who were more or less cowering. “Tell Nona you’re taking the mare from the lean-to and the wagon from the livery. Get him to Pappy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” They muttered in unison. Robbie got the crutches under his arms with Warren’s help, and the boys shuffled out.

  “Carry him down the stairs,” she called after them.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She closed the door behind them and whirled on Warren.

  “Listen, I know you’re new to all of this, but skiing is a way of life around here. Almost everyone skis, at least a little, because sometimes it’s the only way to get where you need to go. You’re going to see a lot of skiing-related injuries, because it’s a sport, and it’s very physical, but please keep your prejudices to yourself.”

  A mask dropped over his features. “I don’t approve of such reckless and dangerous antics.”

  “Skiing or ski jumping? If it’s skiing you disapprove of, you’re going to have a hard time around here.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the dark locks. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. I can see that skiing, as a method of transportation is a necessary evil in a place with so much snow, but ski jumping? You see where it got your brother. And for women? You… you could be damaging your… female… yourself.”

  Ruby crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. “Did you read that somewhere?”

  He choked, cleared his throat, much the way Robbie had done, and she had to hide a smile. “There have been several studies…”

  She flicked her fingers in dismissal, and an idea struck her. “Have you ever skied, Dr. Kelly?”

  “Obviously not, Miss St. John.” He’d been calling her Ruby most of the day, and the switch back to a formal address was not lost on her.

  “Then I suggest you come with me to ski this weekend. You can ski, and watch the jumping practice. It will give you a better idea wha
t you’re dealing with. From a medical perspective.”

  Oh, what was she doing? The more time she spent with him the more appealing he seemed, except for this ridiculous prejudice about skiing and ski jumping. And now she’d invited him into her world, into her place of freedom and joy. She opened her mouth to rescind the invitation, but a knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

  “I’ll consider it,” Warren said. Her eyes widened. She jerked the door open for Mrs. Greaves, one of Doc Eby’s regulars.

  “Please, come in, Mrs. Greaves. Thank you for waiting,” Ruby said, taking the elderly woman’s arm and ushering her into the office.

  Ruby felt flustered all through Mrs. Greaves uneventful check-up, and even after the portly old lady toddled back out the door. When she would have slipped out for lunch, Warren suggested ordering a boxed lunch from the café. They ate together at the desk, neither bringing up their earlier discussion.

  He asked her about church, and she gave him the available options.

  When she crossed the last name off the list of scheduled appointments and told him she was leaving, he spoke again.

  “When, and where, shall I meet you for this skiing lesson and demonstration?”

  She looked up from the ledger, astonished. His expression was blank.

  “You don’t have to…”

  “No, I do. I’ve judged something without knowledge. That’s not fair.”

  Her heart warmed irresponsibly. “Meet me at Howelson Hill at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll be practicing.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  She remembered the package Nona had handed her and retrieved it from where she had left it near the door.

  “My grandmother sent these up for you. You’ll need them for tomorrow.”

  He took the package, and their fingertips brushed. Ruby willed away the rush of excitement.

  “Please tell your grandmother thank you, and add the cost to my account.”

  Ruby laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s already created you a tab. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Miss Ruby.”

  “Good night, Doctor.”

  “Please, outside of office hours, call me Warren.”

  She nodded, feeling a hot flush rise to her cheeks, and closed the door behind her.

  She had a difficult time reading him. He was oddly old-fashioned in some ways, and yet his medical skills were quite progressive, and despite his knee-jerk reaction, he seemed to possess an open mind.

  She trotted downstairs, sidestepping the loose tread and feeling strangely lighthearted.

  Alice met her near the door. She was dust-smeared and had dark circles under her eyes. Arthur was right behind her, equally grimy, his ginger hair tufted in clumps on his head.

  “How did it go?” Alice draped her heavy apron over a hook. Arthur followed suit.

  “Fine. How about you two?”

  “We completed the inventory in the basement,” Arthur said. Alice concealed a yawn behind her hand. “I’m going to walk Miss Alice home now.” He picked up Alice’s coat and held it out for her. She smiled at him and shrugged her arms into the sleeves.

  “Good night, then.” Ruby waved at the couple as they left, pleased. Good. Maybe the two of them would figure out they were perfect for each other while they worked on inventory. Like Nona and Pappy, and like her own parents, from what she remembered.

  Would she ever find that certain someone? She put on her coat, added scarf, hat, mittens, and grabbed her ski poles. She’d had plenty of offers, but no one made her heart sing. That was what she was waiting for. She’d watched her grandparents for years. They weren’t just each other’s “better halves,” they were two wholes that formed something entirely better than either one alone. That was what Ruby wanted. Not someone to complete her, not just a husband to “help,” but a relationship that made them both more than what they could be alone.

  She’d sent Trudy home with Robbie, and as the weather had held, Nona had left in their Model T Ford. Ruby hoped she was as independent as her grandmother in another forty or fifty years.

  Outside the store, she set off toward home on her skis, relishing the scent of snow and the brisk cold on her face. Riding in a car was fine. Riding a horse was fine. But neither could compete with ski riding, as some called it.

  She desperately wanted to win the prize money for Robbie’s sake, but even if there were never another competition, Ruby would still ski. It was her escape, her joy, and her time with God.

  6

  Warren tugged his new knit cap further over his ears. It was barely past dawn, and the cold was ungodly. The snow squeaked under his new boots with every step as he tromped through town on his way to Howelson Hill.

  The level of human activity at this hour on such a frigid morning came as a shock. A dozen or so people had skied past him, headed in the same direction he was going. Three or four others had trooped by going back toward downtown, their long, wooden skis balanced over their shoulders. He assumed they’d just finished their outing.

  When he reached the ski hill, there were even more people milling around. Some were on skis, some stood at the base of the jump, off to one side. He searched the spectators for Ruby. When he didn’t see her anywhere, he mingled with the group at the bottom of the jump, looked up and inhaled sharply.

  The jump course looked to be close to two hundred yards long with a steep pitch, more than forty-five degrees, definitely. It looked, Warren thought, like an invitation for disaster. And then he saw her, in her unmistakable green sweater, perched at the top of the jump. He wanted to cry out, to tell her to stop, but before he could open his mouth she plummeted down the steep slope at unfathomable speeds, crouched low over her skis.

  He choked on a breath when her skis left the platform and she launched into the air, extending her body like an arrow, straight and strong, over the skis. And then she began to drop. He prayed, frantic, garbled pleas for help, and she dropped. He closed his eyes, unable to witness what was coming.

  There was no crunch of bone, no shriek of agony. She just landed, like a dragonfly hovering over the smooth surface of a summer lake, and skidded to a stop. The spectators cheered.

  Warren doubled over and put his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths to restore blood to his brain. When the wave of dizziness passed, he stood up. She found him a few minutes later. Her cheeks were flushed, from cold or excitement, he couldn’t tell.

  “That was amazing,” he mumbled. How could he put what he’d just seen into words? Beautiful. Awe-inspiring. Terrifying.

  “Thank you. It was a good jump. Nothing record-setting, but a good jump, anyway.”

  “What does a bad jump look like?”

  She chuckled. “If it was a bad jump, I wouldn’t be standing here. Are you ready to try on a pair of skis?”

  He glanced back at the jump course with an involuntary shudder. “I don’t have to do that, do I?”

  She laughed, a rippling sound that vibrated all the way to his bone marrow. “Of course not. Your skis will probably never leave the ground, but you’ll be able to get to places you would otherwise never reach.” She looked up at him, aquamarine eyes twinkling under a gray knit cap. “It could come in handy.”

  Feeling suddenly as if he’d flown through the air himself, he grinned at her. “All right. Lead the way.”

  She bent over to unbuckle her skis, then tossed the six-foot lengths over her shoulder and jerked her head toward a nearby log structure.

  “Let’s get you some equipment.”

  He strode after her, still feeling the rush of excitement from watching her jump. Or was it from hearing her laugh?

  Inside the cabin, she introduced him to a blond giant of a man named Lars. Lars eyed Warren up and down, rummaged through a pile of skis, and produced a matched pair. He passed them over the counter to Warren, and then looked to Ruby.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said. Warren flinched.

  “
I can pay.”

  She paused. “That’s not the issue. It’s about who is going to be responsible for you on the slopes.”

  He stiffened. “I’m quite capable of being responsible for myself, thank you.”

  “I’m sure you are. It’s a standard question, though.” She turned her back on him.

  “Lars, I need to order wax. Klister and Dunzinger. Do you want to go in with me on an order?”

  Warren blinked at the strange words.

  “Ya. I could use some, too. Might keep some to sell here, too.”

  “That’s a good idea. Let me know how many tins of each to order,” she said. Turning, she looked at Warren and gestured toward the skis Lars had placed on the counter for him. “Grab those and come on.”

  He did as she instructed. Outside, she dropped her skis to the ground.

  “What are you ordering wax for?” He asked.

  “For my skis, of course. We wax the bottoms so they’ll move faster over the snow. The different kinds are for different temperatures.” She jerked a thumb at his skis. “Put them down, like mine,” she instructed.

  He did as he was told. She guided him through strapping on the skis. “Now, follow my lead.”

  He tried. He did. But try as he might, the rhythm she demonstrated escaped him. He bumbled along behind her, feeling awkward and out of sorts. He finally made two gliding strides, then lost his balance and toppled to one side, landing heavily on his hip. She stopped a few feet away and adjusted her mittens.

  “It’s OK, no one gets it on the first try,” she said. Her words didn’t make him feel better. He struggled to his feet.

  “Maybe he should try snowshoes. They’re much more practical.”

  Warren looked up in response to the unfamiliar voice and nearly lost his balance again. The girl who’d spoken stood several yards away. Her feet were strapped into broad, webbed snowshoes. She wore a drab skirt that reached almost to her ankles, and her hair, caught in a braid, dangled halfway to her waist. But her mouth was taut, and her eyes sharp, as she looked at Ruby.

  “He’s fine, Millie,” Ruby muttered.

  The newcomer tromped closer to him.

  “You must be the new doctor. Welcome to Steamboat. I’m Millie Logan. My father owns the Logan Hotel.”