The man seated beside Seth leaned closer. “She’s terrific,” he said quietly.
Seth smiled. “Yes. I think so, too.”
“`I’ll come back to you, Janie,’ Akela said. `Every autumn, when the tundra turns to flame, listen for the whisper of the wind at the first new moon and you’ll hear my song as I journey here, to spend winter beside you.’“
Another communal sigh rose from the children. Wendy’s soft voice and wonderful story held them enthralled. Seth saw how their faces glowed with excitement. Wendy’s eyes held that same bright light. She was happier than he’d ever seen her, except in the days they’d skied together….
And in his arms last night.
For a little while this morning, after they’d made love, he’d held her against him and let himself believe that everything was going to be all right. Then she’d sighed and stirred against him.
“I missed you so much,” she’d whispered. “All these years… If you only knew how many times I wanted to fly home and go into your arms…”
“But you didn’t.”
“I couldn’t.” She’d lifted her head a little and looked into his eyes. “There’s so much you don’t know, that I haven’t told you about—about my fall and what it did to me.”
“You don’t have to explain, sweetheart,” he’d said softly. “I was too hurt to think things through back then, but I understand now. You must have felt as if you’d lost everything that made you who you were.”
She’d nodded, and her hair had feathered like silk against his shoulder.
“Yes. I’d never imagined myself as anybody but Wendy Monroe, champion skier.”
The words had hurt his heart. She must have sensed it because she’d added, in the very next breath, that the only other Wendy Monroe who’d ever existed was the one who loved him.
“And I lay in that hospital bed,” she’d said, so softly he’d had to strain to hear her, “and listened to what the doctors told me, and realized that I’d failed both Wendy Monroes, the one the whole town had sent off with posters that said, Go for the Gold…and the one who wanted to build a life with you.”
Hearing that had baffled him. How could she have thought the town would be disappointed in her? More important, how could she have thought her injuries would make a difference to him? She should have known he’d never stop loving her. All he had ever wanted was to love her and make her happy, to marry her so they could fill their lives with laughter and kids.
He’d told her all of that as he’d held her this morning, but instead of the smile he’d hoped for, Wendy’s face had closed up.
“It’s getting late,” she’d said. “I won’t get to Twin Oaks on time if we don’t get started.”
That was when he’d known that everything wasn’t going to have the fairy-tale ending he’d foolishly hoped for. He didn’t have her back. He probably never would, but he wouldn’t think about that. Last night would have to be enough.
Now, watching her as she spun a magical tale for the children, he knew he was kidding himself. A lifetime of Wendy would never be enough. He had to get through to her, make her see that they belonged together.
The children leaned forward, listening to the last words of the story. Wendy fell silent; the kids were silent, too, and then everyone in the room burst into applause. Seth waited as the children and their parents rushed up to thank Wendy and tell her how much they’d loved the story. When they finally left, he rose and went toward her.
“You were wonderful,” he said. He took her face in his hands, lifted it to his and brushed his mouth over hers. “Now I want you all to myself. No B and B, no guests, nothing but you and me and a day full of surprises.”
“More surprises?” She laughed. “Will I like them as much as your house?”
He slipped his jacket on, then helped her into hers. “Tonight’s, definitely. This afternoon’s…well, keep an open mind, okay?”
Her eyebrows rose. “This sounds serious.”
Her tone was teasing. His wasn’t.
“It is serious,” he said. “Trust me, okay? No matter what?”
She said she would, but he could see the confusion growing on her face as they drove north. Well, he’d felt just as uncertain when he’d made these plans early this morning. She’d fallen asleep in his arms. When her breathing was slow and even, he’d slipped from the bed and gone down to the den.
First, he’d checked his answering machine. Just as he’d hoped, Pommier had left a message. He was heading back to Cooper’s Corner. Could they meet tonight, at Twin Oaks? Seth reached him on his cell phone and cut right to the bottom line.
“Remember what I said about coming straight out if I wanted to ask you to see Wendy Monroe, Doc? Well, I’m asking. I know you’ve sworn off taking on new patients, and I know I’m presuming on our relationship—”
Pommier interrupted him and said, gently, that he’d been waiting for Seth’s call.
“You were?”
“Aunt Agatha’s always right,” Rod said.
Seth had hung up, chuckling. Then he’d made a call to Larry Cohen, who was in the volunteer program with him at Ski Wee. Would it be okay to stop by later and bring someone with him? Someone who might find the program interesting?
“Absolutely,” Larry had said, sounding pleased.
At least somebody was looking forward to this, Seth had thought, and decided not to consider the possible consequences of either phone call. Instead, he’d busied himself by making breakfast.
He looked at Wendy, sitting beside him in the cab of his truck. One thing was certain. When he introduced her to Pommier, she’d be delirious with joy.
But when she saw where he was taking her now…
He was running one hell of a risk. For all he knew, what he was doing might ruin any chance they had at a permanent relationship, assuming they had a chance at all. But he didn’t have any choice. He loved Wendy. He had to do this.
Seth tightened his hands on the steering wheel.
Gina had been reduced to wringing her hands about her daughter. Howard was still trying to relive his life through her. Who was there to open her eyes to the truth, to who she really was, except him?
Wendy thought she knew all her options but he was willing to bet that she didn’t. Not deep inside, where it counted.
He had to make her see that there were many ways to be a winner in life.
A sign flashed by. Seth’s stomach did a slow roll. Just another few minutes, he thought, and put on his turn signal.
“Almost there,” he said lightly.
“Almost where?” Suspicion put an edge on the words. “Seth? I want to know where we’re going.”
He’d taken a back route, counting on the fact that the crossover road that would lead them to their destination was new enough that she wouldn’t figure things out until the last minute. Now he had to tell her the truth.
“To Jiminy,” he said, and braced himself for the explosion.
Wendy didn’t disappoint him. She swung toward him, her face white with shock.
“Are you crazy? We are not going to Jiminy!”
“We’re expected.”
“Expected? By whom?”
“I’m a volunteer at Ski Wee. I spoke to a friend this morning and told him we’d be dropping by.”
“Why would you tell him that? Ski Wee hasn’t a thing to do with me!”
“It has to do with kids,” Seth said calmly, “and with skiing. And it seems to me that you like both.”
“I hate skiing.”
Her voice was low and trembling. He wasn’t sure if it was with anger or pain. He suspected it was both, and he was almost afraid to look at her, because if there were tears in her eyes, it would be the end of him. Was he doing the right thing? He had to believe he was. Someone had to make her see that she was as whole as she’d ever been, that her life had not ended the day she fell in Norway, but had only gone in a different direction.
“Is that why you want to go through an expe
rimental operation that’s risky as hell? So you can do something you hate?”
“So I can compete. There’s a difference, Seth. Don’t twist my words!”
“If the only reason you want to ski is to chase after medals, you might as well give up before you start.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean, Dr. Freud?”
“When we met, you didn’t only ski to compete. You skied because you loved it, because it was part of you.”
“Past tense. Was part of me.”
“It still is, even if you’re determined to deny it.”
Wendy glared at him. How could he know what she felt? Her doctors had thought they did, too. One of her therapists had even brought a man who ran a program for handicapped skiers to meet her. Handicapped skiers? The phrase, she’d told him coldly, was an oxymoron.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed,” the man answered calmly, “but I’m an amputee.”
Wendy had barely glanced at the empty sleeve that hung from his jacket.
“What I noticed,” she’d replied with brutal candor, “is that you’re a cripple, the same as me.”
She’d instructed the therapist to work with her body and forget about playing games with her head. After that, no one had tried to talk to her about skiing.
Seth knew even less about how she felt than the therapist. He was convinced she’d devoted her life to winning and that she thought less of herself now that she couldn’t compete.
But that wasn’t all of it. What would he say once he knew the truth?
Wendy turned her face toward the side window and stared blindly at the forest flashing by. What a mistake she’d made, letting herself fall in love with Seth all over again. She hadn’t intended for it to happen, but when he’d kissed her outside the Purple Panda, he’d made her remember what love could be like. She’d wanted to taste it again, if only for a little while.
What she’d told him about there being two Wendys was true. One had competed for medals; one had planned a future as a wife and mother. Neither had survived the accident. Now Dr. Pommier’s new technique offered hope that she might bring one of them to life again.
She had to take the chance or die trying.
Tears blinded her. She looked away from the trees and out the windshield…
And saw Jiminy Peak straight ahead, rising from the trees.
For a moment, she felt nothing. It was only a mountain and not a terribly high one at that. Jiminy was nothing but a steep hill compared with some of the places she’d skied in the West and in Europe, but it was where she’d learned to fly down a mountainside, feeling as if she could take wing and soar.
Something seemed to tear free deep inside her. Seth was right. She belonged in a place like this, where mountain peaks pierced the sky, where the snow was deep and all you heard was the sound of the wind and the whoosh of your skis.
Seth pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine. She felt his eyes on her, but she was riveted to the sight of the slopes and lifts ahead, and to a time when she’d felt truly alive.
He got out of the truck and came around to her side. He opened her door and looked at her, his face pale beneath its year-round tan. Tension narrowed his eyes.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. She knew that the next move had to be hers. Slowly, she stepped from the truck. Tears welled in her eyes. She bowed her head and tried to blink them away before Seth noticed, but she wasn’t quick enough.
“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was rough with misery. “Baby, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I should never have—”
Wendy lifted her head. He could hardly believe what he saw. Yes, tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her eyes were glowing. Her smile was radiant.
“Wendy?”
She laughed. Or maybe she cried. All that mattered was that she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, and he was sure that his Wendy had come home.
* * *
LARRY COHEN WAS a great guy. He had a nice sense of humor and an easy way with the kids, who gathered around him on their skis, some of them so wrapped in parkas and pants that Wendy figured they’d never be able to get up if—when—they fell.
But they did get up, and laughed, and tried all the harder. At first, there were six kids and Larry. By noon, there were a dozen tyro skiers having fun with Seth and Larry.
Wendy stood around and watched. Then she offered a little help. By the time Seth suggested she put on skis and really get into things, she didn’t even hesitate. How else could she encourage the kids to try to do a snowplow, or sometimes just try and stand up?
How else could she really remember how much she loved this sport?
And when Ski Wee classes ended, what could she do but ride the lift with Seth, stand at the top of the Left Bank run, flash him a thumbs-up when he grinned at her, and then fly down the mountain?
In late afternoon, Seth said he was exhausted. Wendy doubted it. He looked wonderful, his cheeks ruddy from the cold, his eyes bright, his smile stretching across his face. She knew the truth—that he was concerned about her. Her leg did ache, yes, but it was a wonderful ache, the kind she hadn’t had and couldn’t get from therapy workouts, no matter how strenuous. She felt alive in a way she’d all but forgotten. Last night, making love with Seth; today, skiing with him…
Could life actually be like this? So filled with joy that you felt as if you might burst?
“Me, too,” she said. “Let’s call it a day.”
She sat as close to Seth as the bucket seats would permit all during the ride back to Cooper’s Corner. When he started to apologize for taking her to Jiminy without asking, she stopped him.
“You’re right,” she said. “You did a terrible thing…but I’m happy you did. I guess I’d blanked out how it feels to ski and how much I love it.” She lifted his hand from the wheel and pressed it to her cheek. “Thank you.”
“We can try a tougher trail next time, if you like.”
“If I like?” She grinned at him. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
Seth smiled back at her. It was wonderful, seeing her like this.
“You’re happy,” he said softly, “aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes. Very.” She took a deep breath. “Seth? I’ve been a coward.”
“No, babe, you haven’t. I understand why you didn’t want to ski. Anybody would have felt—”
“I’m not talking about skiing. I’m talking about…about how I turned away from you. How I sent you away when you came to Norway to be with me after the accident.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me, sweetheart.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. You’re entitled to know the reasons.”
“I already do.” Seth wound his fingers through hers and placed their linked hands on the gearshift. “The accident devastated you. If I hadn’t been so self-centered, I’d have figured that out right away.”
“It did, but that isn’t—”
“Babe.” They’d reached the town. Seth pulled into the driveway at Twin Oaks and parked next to the car Wendy had left there the night before. He shut off the engine and turned to her. “You want to talk about things? Fine. But let me go first, okay? I have something to tell you.”
Wendy smiled. “Not another surprise?”
“Yeah. Another surprise.” Seth cleared his throat. He took her other hand and held both tightly. “Why did you come back to Cooper’s Corner?”
“What do you mean?”
“What did you come back for, Wendy? What do you want that I—hell, let’s be blunt—that I tried to convince you not to want?”
“The operation?”
“Yes, sweetheart. The operation. Specifically, a chance to meet Rod Pommier and convince him to accept you as a patient.”
Wendy sighed. “I’m close to giving up hope. My father thought he’d be able to get me a few minutes of Dr. Pommier’s time, but—”
“I can do it for you.”
She stared at him. It wasn’t a joke; Seth’s expression was
completely serious.
“You? I don’t understand. How could you connect me with Dr. Pommier?”
Seth hesitated. His news was going to make her happy. He just wished it was doing the same thing for him.
“I know him,” he said, after a minute.
“You know…” Wendy looked puzzled. “You mean, you’ve seen him on the slopes?”
“I mean we’re friends. Well, more or less. We’re not pals or—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Rod is—”
“Rod?” Wendy blinked. ”Rod?”
There was a note in her voice he didn’t quite understand. An edge. A hint of anger.
“Uh-huh. See, he bought a cabin. An old ski chalet up on—”
“Rod did,” she said coldly.
Seth frowned. Things weren’t going exactly as he’d anticipated. There was definitely an edge to her words and a look in her eyes he didn’t like.
“Yeah. And I’m doing the renovations for him.”
“Since when?”
“Since he bought it. I don’t know, maybe ten days, two weeks ago.”
Wendy jerked her hands from his. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been going crazy waiting for a chance to meet this man, and all the time you’ve been working on his cabin?”
“Well, yes.”
“I suppose you have coffee with him, too, and discuss the work as it progresses.”
The edge to her voice took on the sharpness of a paper cut. Oh, yeah. Something was definitely wrong here. Seth reached for her hands again but she pulled away and sat rigid, her spine tight against the door.
“He’s been out of town, babe. Your father must have told you that.”
“My father isn’t on a first-name basis with the doctor, Seth.”
Let that go, he told himself. Just let it go.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that I talked to him this morning.” She didn’t answer and he plunged on to fill the silence. “I called him on his cell phone.”
“You called him on his cell phone,” she repeated, so coldly that he almost shuddered. Slowly, the light began to dawn. She was upset because he hadn’t told her sooner.
Reunited with the Billionaire Page 20