by Sarah Morgan
“I can’t imagine how they built this road through the mountains.”
“It was a compromise between the engineers and the environmentalists. It’s one of the main routes through the Rocky Mountains. That’s the Colorado River right there.”
It was spectacular.
She gazed out of the window at the soaring walls of the canyon. There was something soothing about being in a warm car, looking out at the snowy mountains outside. Her life felt distant, too far away to be more than a niggle of anxiety. For once she had no responsibility, no one relying on her judgment. Jordan was a good driver, confident, not flashy. Not that she had any intention of telling him that. She had a feeling he was a man who already had the true measure of his worth.
“Does this road ever get blocked in winter?”
“It can have its tricky moments. There’s a rest area up ahead at Grizzly Creek. We’ll stop there for a short time. Are you hungry?”
She discovered that she was.
After a hastily eaten snack she headed down to the water with him, her hands wrapped around the drink he’d bought her. The air was fresh and cold, the mountains rising straight up from the river. Snow clung to boulders and the water bubbled past patches of ice.
“I bet that water is cold.”
“Icy.” He stood, legs spread, hands thrust into his pockets. “Dan and I used to spend our summers rafting on this river. Further downriver you have the Shoshone rapids—Tombstone, The Wall and Maneater.”
“Funny, none of those names are tempting me to ask you to take me white-water rafting. I can’t think why.”
“Come back in the summer and I’ll take you. I think you’d enjoy it.”
“What makes you think that? Do I look sporty?”
“No, you look tense. And clinging to the side of a raft while you’re being thrown around in wild water surrounded by breathtaking scenery is a good way of making you forget everything except the moment.”
“I’m going to have to take your word for it.”
“You’re missing out on a real adrenaline rush. It’s pretty thrilling.”
She took a sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread from the cup to her fingers. London, with its gray skies and rain, seemed like a long way away. For the first time in a while she felt half-human. “Thanks but I think I’d prefer to get my thrills elsewhere.”
He finished his coffee. “You shouldn’t be afraid of adventure.”
“Who says I’m afraid?”
“You’ve been grilling me about Dan, which means you’re the type who researches everything in detail before you commit to something. You don’t trust your instincts.”
“I don’t have instincts where Dan is concerned. I’ve never met him.”
“Precisely.” He dropped his cup in the trash can. “But you’re assuming he has a past he needs to hide. And you’re not even the one who is marrying him. Are you always this cautious?”
“I’m not cautious.”
“No? When did you last do something that scared you?”
Seeing Dr. Braithwaite had scared her, and lately she’d been scared every time she’d arrived at work. “We should probably get going. My family will be expecting me.”
He studied her for a moment. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
They headed back to the car, and negotiated the next section of road in silence.
They reached a town called Glenwood Springs, and he followed the signs for Aspen.
Katie must have fallen asleep because when she woke they were driving down a snow-covered drive toward a brightly lit building.
“That’s pretty.”
“Welcome to Snowfall Lodge.”
“This is it?” She gazed at the sloping roof outlined by tiny lights. There was a deck and what appeared to be a Christmas tree in every window. Her spirits lifted for the first time in weeks. Even she should be able to heal in a place like this. “It’s charming.”
“It’s a cool place. But you’re not staying here. You’re staying in one of the tree houses in the forest.”
It was like being shown paradise and then being told your ticket wasn’t valid for that stop.
Lately her emotions had been all over the place, but even she was taken aback by the depths of her disappointment.
She didn’t want to stay in a tree house in the forest. She wanted to stay in this luxurious place, with its twinkling lights and fairy-tale aura. Snowfall Lodge was so far from her everyday life it seemed like nirvana. She wanted to be wrapped by its welcoming warmth and cocooned by the flickering fire she could see through the glass doors. But apparently that wasn’t on the agenda.
Goodbye spa. Goodbye massage and thermal pool. Goodbye any hope of recovery.
“A tree house.” It was a struggle to keep her tone light. “With the spiders. Yay. Very Hitchcock.”
“It’s not so bad once you’re up there, although I admit pulling yourself up on the rope can be a challenge. How are your muscles, Doctor?”
She didn’t have muscles. “You pull yourself up on a rope?”
“How else would you get into the tree? And don’t worry about spiders. They’re big, but they’re not poisonous. Most people find the worst thing is the motion sickness, but you’re a doctor so I’m sure you have all the medication you need for that.”
“Motion sickness?”
“The place is built in a tree. When it’s windy, the branches sway and the house sways with it.” He focused on the road, his lights picking up the mounds of snow piled along the edge. “Some people strap themselves to the bed so they don’t fall out in the night. Same principle as turbulence on an airplane.”
Katie had been sick on the plane when they’d encountered turbulence. She hadn’t been able to use the swing in the park when she was a child. She wanted to tell him to turn around. She didn’t want to do this. She couldn’t do this.
“Are you sure there aren’t any vacant rooms in Snowfall Lodge?”
“They reserved this place specially for you.”
Karma. They must have sensed that she was here to disrupt the wedding rather than celebrate it.
And Jordan wasn’t showing her a morsel of sympathy.
“Look, I really don’t think I can—”
“We’re here.” He pulled up and flashed his headlights. “There. Look up.”
She lifted her gaze slowly, reluctantly, braced for the worst. Thanks to him she’d pictured a rickety structure, lashed together by cobwebs and possibly with a haggard old crone in the doorway to greet her.
The reality was so far from the picture he’d painted that it was a moment before she could speak.
The tree house wasn’t built into branches, although the design was such that at first glance it appeared to be. It was perched on a slope, surrounded by tall trees, their branches bowing under the weight of snow. A two-story hideaway nestled into the trees as if it had grown there along with the forest.
A beautiful wooden staircase wound up to the front door. “No rope.” She saw his faint smile and felt stupid. “I hate you.”
“I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.”
“But I did, so why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Because you were wound so tight I thought you could do with a laugh.”
“Do you see me laughing?”
He gave her a long look. “No, which is a shame, because I’m willing to bet you look cute when you laugh.”
Something shifted inside her. Something that made her feel more uncomfortable than she already was. “Just so you know, I really am thinking of killing you.”
“But then you’d spend Christmas behind bars, and this place is more comfortable,” he said easily. “More hedonism than horror, don’t you think? The tree houses are some of the most sought-after places to stay around here. Most of us normal mortals couldn’t ever afford
to stay in one.”
“I’m definitely going to have to kill you.” She hesitated. “Do the tree houses sway when it’s windy?”
“They’re rock solid. I can guarantee that, because I helped build them.”
“You?” She dragged her gaze from Snowfall Lodge to his profile. “I thought you were a tree surgeon?”
“I also work with wood.”
“So I am sleeping twenty feet above the ground, in something you built. If I fall, I’m going to sue you.” But the sense of relief was overwhelming. The place was idyllic. Like her own private corner of the forest. Lights shone from the tree house, lending a warm glow to the wood. A large Christmas tree was visible through one of the windows and snow had settled on the railing around the deck.
Her tension levels, permanently stuck in the red zone for months, finally eased. That tiny adjustment to her equilibrium gave her hope. If she couldn’t relax and unwind here in this enchanting, almost otherworldly place, she wouldn’t be able to unwind anywhere. It felt a million miles from the crowded streets of London and her small cramped house. A million miles from her real life.
Jordan gestured to a winding path, illuminated by lights strung through the trees. “We have to walk from here. There’s a bridge over the creek and it can be icy. You’ll need to be careful.”
Deep snow smothered the contours of the surroundings. Katie decided that the world seemed a better place when it was covered in snow. Softer. Fewer hard edges.
“I’ll be fine.” She saw her sister appear in the window and waved.
Was Rosie mad with her because she’d asked if they could share for the first few nights? She’d used Christmas as the excuse—Christmas is our time together—but the truth was that she wanted time alone with her sister so she could try to understand what had triggered this wildly impulsive decision. And if Rosie and Dan really were getting married (heaven help all of them), a few nights apart wouldn’t kill them, would it?
Having reasoned her guilt back into submission, she stepped out of the car and felt the cold seep through her clothing. She’d always hated winter, but now she realized that what she hated was winter in London and those long dreary days that cloaked everyone in gloom. Rain that soaked through shoes and turned a girl from dressed up to drowned rat. This was different. Here, the air was dry and crisp, and above her a million stars studded the clear night sky. This was winter as she’d always imagined it should be. Not dark, damp and dispiriting, but light and bright and crisp.
She breathed in, savoring the delicious smells. A hint of wood smoke. Fir trees. It made her think of those Christmases when she was young, when she and her mother had taken Rosie to choose a tree. They’d argued about the size and then trudged home with it and dressed its lush, spiky branches with decorations stored from year to year in a special box. Her mother had treasured each one. There was a star Katie had made in school the year Rosie was born. A wonky angel Rosie had made in the hospital the Christmas she’d had a bad asthma attack. Then there were the weird and wonderful decorations her father brought home from his travels. A jeweled camel that sparkled under the lights, handblown glass ornaments picked up from a bazaar in Cairo.
There would be no star this year. No tree dressed with memories.
Katie blinked. It wasn’t like her to get emotional. Any minute now she’d be crying on his shoulder. She could imagine what he’d make of that. “Thanks for the ride, Jordan.”
“Are you going to forgive me for teasing you?”
“Maybe next century.”
“Good to know you have a sense of humor.” He retrieved her suitcase. “I’ll carry this up for you.”
“I’ve already proved I can carry my own suitcase, and given that I don’t have to climb a rope with it,” she sent him a look designed to wither, “I can manage.” Truthfully she wasn’t looking forward to carrying the case because she was still nurturing her bad shoulder, but she had another perfectly good free hand and she’d rather dislocate both shoulders than ask for help from him.
“The bridge might be icy. They clear it every day, but sometimes it’s—”
“Don’t tell me. There’s a troll in the water that might leap out and eat me. I’ll handle it.” A flood of light illuminated her surroundings and she glanced up and saw Rosie framed by the doorway. Her sister was wearing a warm cable-knit sweater, a pair of skinny jeans and thick socks. Katie felt a rush of love so powerful it took her breath away. Whenever she saw Rosie after a stretch of time, she remembered her as a toddler. Affectionate. Trusting. “Thanks, Jordan. See you at the wedding.”
She wasn’t sorry to leave him behind. She’d felt a wider range of emotion trapped in a car with him for five hours than she had in the past five months. She hoped they wouldn’t be spending much time together.
“I’ll help you over the bridge.”
Katie felt her temper snap. “Because I’m a woman? Because you think my DNA makes me less capable of walking than you? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class from the best medical school in London. I average twenty thousand steps a day, on a quiet day, and I’ve managed to stay upright for all of them.”
“I believe you, but that doesn’t mean you have the right—”
“The right what? I can assure you I have everything I need.” She hauled her suitcase over the snow and realized right away that this wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be. For a start, the surface wasn’t smooth. The path had obviously been cleared earlier but another layer of snow had fallen since then and it was slick and icy. Still, at least the creek was frozen so if she fell in she wasn’t going to drown.
As she hauled her case, she started to sweat. And she still had to carry it up those charming, but frighteningly twisty stairs to the front door. To make it worse Jordan was watching, which meant that if she fell her pride would be broken along with her bones.
Why didn’t the man leave?
When she reached the bridge she felt her feet start to slither and grabbed for the handrail, but it was buried under a pile of snow. Her legs went from under her and she was wondering if Jordan was the type to say I told you so, when strong arms grabbed her and held her firmly.
“I was trying to tell you that you didn’t have the right footwear. You’re mad at me, I get it, but take my help now and be mad at me later.” Jordan’s voice was in her ear, deep and steady. It should have made her feel safe, but somehow it didn’t. She’d never needed anyone before and she didn’t want to need anyone now, not even to help negotiate an icy slope. She needed some evidence that she was still the same person she’d always been. Competent. Independent.
“I slipped on purpose, to give you a chance to rescue me and then feel good about yourself.” It was because she was locked against hard muscle that she felt him laugh.
“I knew there was a sense of humor buried in there somewhere. And you’re right, of course. I can’t sleep at night unless I’ve rescued at least ten trees and five maidens in distress during the course of my working day.”
There was something about his solid strength that was annoyingly comforting. “Do I seem in distress to you?”
“Yes, although I doubt that had much to do with the ice and I know you won’t thank me for noticing.” His voice softened. “Let go of the suitcase and put your arms around my neck, Katie.” The way he said her name sent tingles up and down her spine.
“I will not be putting my arms round your neck now, or at any other time, unless it’s to strangle you.”
“In that case—” He let her go. Immediately her feet slithered. She grabbed at the front of his coat.
“Damn.”
His eyes gleamed. “You know, it’s all right to accept a little help from someone once in a while.”
The occupational health doctor had said the same thing. “I do not need help.”
“You have romantic intentions?”
“Exc
use me?”
“There has to be a reason you’re locked on to the front of my coat. If it’s not because you need help, then it must be because you’re about to kiss me. Or maybe you’re waiting for me to kiss you.”
“I’m not the waiting type, Mr. Tree-Doctor. If I wanted to kiss you, I’d have already kissed you.” What would he do if she did? And why was she having thoughts like that? Desperation, maybe. It had been almost six months since she’d kissed a man, and the attraction had been nowhere near as powerful as it was between herself and Jordan. “I need a solid object to grab on to, that’s all.” She gasped as he swept her up and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you the help you won’t ask for. My duty as best man is to look after the groom. If the bride’s sister breaks both her legs, that’s going to hold up the wedding. Also, I don’t want my best friend threatened with a lawsuit.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.” But still he didn’t put her down.
As she thumped his back with her fists, she could hear her sister laughing.
To heap on the humiliation, he carried her case in his free hand with no visible effort.
“This is uncomfortable. You’re going to rupture my spleen.”
He ignored her and carried on walking, his boots crunching through the surface of the snow.
“There you go.” He lowered her gently to the ground. “Bones in one piece, spleen intact, temper and smart mouth also thriving.”
They were at the bottom of the curving staircase that led up to the deck.
“There is nothing wrong with my mouth, thank you.”
He looked at her for a long moment and the corners of his mouth flickered into a smile. “Finally, something we agree on.”
She was so taken aback she was mute.
His smile widened and he picked up her case and vanished up the stairs as if it weighed nothing.
She heard him laugh and murmur a few words to Rosie, and then he was standing in front of her again.
Before she could move, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Admit it, Doctor. I rock your world.”