“I wish that you would.” He said it simply and directly and she felt a shiver run through her body. How could she say she didn’t love him? She was telling him things she had never told anyone, not even Jason. It was just so easy to talk to Sam, to tell him about her life and her hurts. No, she could never deny to herself that she loved him—she did very much—although she had known him less than a week. Only this was a no-win situation. Hadn’t she seen her mother hurt? Surely she had learned something from her mother’s experience.
“Did you get to see your father often?” He was probing now, seeking information that might reconcile their situations.
“Yes, on almost every weekend. Our time together was limited. He still told me stories and sent me postcards but I gradually saw the change in him. It was like the spark had gone out of him. And I began to hate the traveling he did and the cards he sent me.” She stared at the near-empty dining room. “It was terrible, Sam. I started to realize that if he had a job like the other fathers in my neighborhood—well, then I would have had a father too. But I also knew that to force him to take a job nearer home would only cage him and I didn’t want that, either. I loved him too much to ask him to do that.” She touched his hand. “I don’t want that to happen to me again, Sam. I don’t want to be lonely in my adult life too. Can you understand?”
He slumped in his chair for a few moments and then sat up again. “What makes you think we’d have the same kind of marriage? It doesn’t have to be that way, you know.”
“Are you asking me to give up my career?”
“No, but with your job and mine, the weekends that we spend together and the vacations, too, will only be better for us. We’ll have emails and texts and phone calls once, twice, or more a day. We’d constantly be in touch. We’ll appreciate each other more. Your mother didn’t have a job—that’s why she was so lonely. We’d handle our lives differently.”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head and folded her hands in front of her. “That would last for only a few years—two or three at the most—and then what? No, Sam, I meant it. It just wouldn’t work with us.”
“Would it work with your . . . ?” He let the sentence be unfinished but she knew he meant Jason and she replied quietly.
“Yes.”
“He’s steady?”
“Very.”
“And he’s always there?”
“Always.”
As he wrinkled his brow, it seemed to her that he was trying to fit into place all the pieces of a difficult puzzle. “But, Katie, the most important ingredient in any relationship is love.”
“There are all kinds of love and sometimes even more is needed in a marriage.” She was on the defensive. His questions were ones she had asked herself these past nights and she had no answers yet. She had to prove to Sam, and to herself, that Jason was the man she should marry.
“Name some other things. What else is important?”
“Mutual respect, for one.” Suddenly her voice was louder.
“I certainly respect you! And I assume the feeling is mutual.” How she wished he would laugh or smile. But he was so serious—so very serious.
“Jason and I are good friends.”
“I’m your friend too, Katie.”
She closed her eyes, wishing that she didn’t have to continue, wishing that it was a year from now and that this episode was in the past. But when she opened them she saw Sam staring at her, waiting for her to speak.
“I know you are, Sam, but Jason and I go back a long way. We have the same ideals and values.”
“Don’t I have the same values too? Don’t I want the same things as you? Don’t I want to love you for the rest of your life, Katie-Katie? And to make you happy, to make us both happy?”
She took a deep breath, hoping to still the panic rising within her. This isn’t fair! she wanted to cry out. A woman shouldn’t have to choose between two good men. It should all be clear-cut. There shouldn’t be these problems, these trials.
“Come away with me,” Sam said.
“Just like that, Sam?” The absurdity of the suggestion made her laugh. “I have so much to clear up. I could never walk away from my life.”
“Clear it up and then come away with me.” She shook her head. Her heart seemed to be breaking as she saw his dark eyes focus on her, taking in everything she said and did, so that he seemed to absorb her mind and thoughts.
“I can’t. That’s what’s different about us, Sam. I’m practical. Very practical.”
“And I’m . . . ?” From the way he said it, she knew he saw himself as someone who was spontaneous, someone who would try all possible ways to succeed in love, life, and his profession. “And I’m . . . ?” he asked again so that she wanted to answer him that she had never met anyone quite like him before. That he was someone who would never give up fighting for what he wanted.
She tried to form and speak the words that could put her thoughts in order but her emotions overcame her practicality and she was finally content to think the words that assembled much too quickly in her consciousness. You’re wonderful, she wanted to cry out. You’re what I’ve always wanted. You’re the person I have dreamed about all my life. The Prince Charming in all the fairy tales I ever read. The hero who comes riding on a horse to rescue me. You’re all those things I’ve dreamed about and you’re all those things that I want and all those things I don’t want. Oh, Sam! If I could, I would tell you that I love you with all my heart. And that I want to run away with you and live any kind of existence with you. But I can’t. I can’t afford to get hurt. I have to be practical. I think of all those things we could do, but all the things we couldn’t do outweigh them.
These were the things she wanted to tell him but was unable to say. Instead, she shook her head.
“You’re different from me, Sam. Let’s leave it at that,” she said and then felt another wave of indecision so that her hands began to tremble and a violent shudder hit the bottom of her stomach. She took a deep breath to calm herself and waited until the shaking had passed through her body.
“Sam, please…” she said quietly, almost pleadingly. “Let’s not do this to each other. Let’s talk about it some other time, when we’ve thought about it some more.”
He picked up her hand once again and caressed it. “We don’t have that much time, Katie. We just don’t have that much time. And I’m afraid I’m going to lose you if we don’t talk.”
She looked outside at the snowflakes swirling near the windows. “Please, Sam,” she said, “please . . . let’s talk tomorrow.” She stood up and glanced at her watch and then at the deserted room. “The waiters…” she said, indicating two men in the doorway. “They want to close the room.”
He stood up, too, and took her arm. “I didn’t mean to press you so hard, Katie.” His arm surrounded her waist and he drew her close to him as they walked slowly toward the steps to the rooms on the upper floor. “You’re exhausted and so am I. Maybe tomorrow will bring us some answers.”
“Yes.” He was right; already he could read her mind. She was very tired and wanted to sleep, to close her eyes and force unwelcome but wonderful thoughts away from her.
He stopped on the landing of the second floor and put his hands on the sides of her face so that they stared at each other. She wanted to turn away because to look at him would bewilder her even more. She wasn’t falling in love with Sam. She was in love with him; she already had fallen in love with him. And the more she was with him, the more she wanted to stay near him and to hold him.
“Promise me, Katie, that you’ll think about everything—us… you… Jason. And that you’ll have an open mind about everything.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead and when she didn’t respond, he moved his head nearer and kissed her lips lovingly. “Promise,” he said, and kissed her again.
She put her arms around him and held him tight, wanting to hold him forever. “I promise, Sam.”
“That’s all that I ask.”
Inside her ro
om, she stood for a few minutes at the door, leaning against it for support, and then, tired, she sat down on the edge of the bed and rocked slowly back and forth, thinking that life had seemed so simple only last week. And now…
Later, after a distant clock tolled three times, she managed to fall asleep. All night, Sam and his words and his questions kept drifting in and out of her dreams.
Chapter Eight
When they met for breakfast she could tell that he had slept as fitfully as she. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and some of their gleam was missing. She turned away, not wanting to see the hurt she was causing him, and she looked at the other people in the room, hoping to find a way to avoid talking about themselves.
“There are a lot of new vacationers,” she said, motioning toward the line waiting to be seated for breakfast. “I guess they heard about the snowfall last night.”
“Which means that the slopes are going to be crowded.” He salted his eggs. “Why don’t we go over to Devil’s Mist? Not too many beginners on that one.” He took a sip of coffee.
“No, it’s not for me.” Katie’s throat tightened. She had successfully avoided that ski trail before, and no one—not even Sam—would make her change her mind.
“You’re afraid of it, aren’t you, Katie?” It was one of his direct-on-target statements and she said nothing. He buttered a piece of toast while she tried to decide whether to admit the truth. “You keep avoiding it. That’s not the way to conquer it.” He smiled and she had the feeling that he was talking about their relationship. “You have to just get up there, go straight to the top, and then come on down the best way you know how, one ski at a time.” He ate the bread. “You’re a good skier, so what’s the problem?”
“I don’t like Devil’s Mist,” she said finally. “I never have.”
“Why?” Sam cocked his head.
“It’s just that it’s difficult, more difficult than Magic Mountain.”
“It’s not for beginners. That’s what’s so good about it. It takes more skill and more daring. Some things you have to work for, Katie. Some things aren’t easy.”
She wiped her lips with her napkin. Was he purposely saying things that could be taken two ways? “I just don’t like that run,” she said.
“You’re avoiding it, Katie. Just like. . . .” He stopped in midsentence, yet she knew what he was going to say. He was going to talk about her avoiding the ski run just as she was avoiding their love. She took a sip of coffee. Well, why not? Why not try to ski the mountain again? Maybe it wasn’t so frightening anymore. Maybe it was all in her mind. She’d try it one more time and if she still felt uncomfortable when she got to the top, then she’d come down any way she wanted to, no matter what anyone said.
She tapped her spoon against her coffee cup, oblivious to the ringing sound of the pottery. She’d conquer one thing at a time, and maybe if this battle was won, she could think about the other, more personal one, and come to some conclusions. Maybe she’d get back some of her confidence and be able to make some new choices.
She looked at Sam and tried to laugh. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll try it.” His eyes flashed briefly, the way they did when they first met. “We’ll go there after breakfast, before I lose my nerve. After all, it’s only my life.”
Sam frowned “Sounds like foreshadowing,” he said.
She turned her head so that he couldn’t see the confirmation in her eyes. It was the second time that he had linked the mastery of the mountain to the events of the week. But then again, maybe he was right, maybe Devil’s Mist had something to do with her life and the way she handled it.
She stood up. “I’ll get my skis.”
He had called it perfectly. Magic Mountain was crowded with novices who had heard last night’s weather forecast. It was natural, then, for the accomplished skiers to seek out other runs and Devil’s Mist was the only really good one in the immediate area.
It seemed much higher and larger than she remembered it from two seasons ago, and she understood why so many people wanted to ski it. It was the challenge of it. The thrill of it. Devil’s Mist was tricky and fast and it was a way of extending the excitement of the sport. Well, perhaps today she would conquer her old nemesis. She tightened her boots and positioned the poles on her arm. Okay, she thought. Possibly today I’ll do it. Maybe Sam will be my inspiration.
He was waiting for her to join him, and she saw that there were only three or four other people on the lifts. “Okay, Katie,” he said, adjusting his goggles. “Let’s get on with it. It’s a perfect day for it.” He looked around. “Not even a line.” He took her arm and propelled her into a chair so that her feet and poles dangled high over the ground and she could get an overview of the vista below her.
“Wait until you get up there.” He climbed onto the adjoining seat as he pointed up to the top. “I guarantee you the best run of the week. Be warned, Katie—you’re in for the ride of your life.”
Katie looked down at the countryside as the lift moved slowly up the mountain. Sam was right—again. She had a moment’s panic but it subsided and she became enmeshed in the beauty of the surroundings as the lift skimmed the tops of the tall evergreens below. The panorama suddenly seemed extraordinarily serene and quiet, and as she approached the top of the mountain, all manner of sounds—shouts, laughter, and voices—were first hushed and then completely stilled. Her eyes and ears captured the scene and framed it much like a still life painted by a folk artist. Off in the distance the main Crest building now seemed frozen in time, its only sign of life the curls of black smoke streaming from its chimneys. In front of the stone-and-wood inn and on either side of it, bright splotches of color punctuated the white and gray landscape as vacationers in vivid skiwear loitered and walked in the snow.
Katie marveled at the sight. Why hadn’t she ever looked at the valley like this before? Was it because Sam was here beside her, because he was her guide and was now making her see commonplace things in a different light? Maybe that was the reason, she thought as her fear of the mountain vanished and she concentrated on the landscape beneath her.
“Was I right? Didn’t I tell you it was magnificent?” Sam shouted so that she could hear him above the wind. “Who would believe that the calendar says it’s spring?”
Spring? Katie’s stomach clenched. Jason had said that it was really spring in Maryland, that it was warm and that the forsythia bushes and crocuses had already begun to blossom. She looked below her at the snow-capped shrubs and trees, and tried to imagine what it was like back home in Maryland. Warm already, spring weather, and soon it would be April and June and then August, the month when she and Jason would marry. August! They had tentatively set the date for that month because then they would have time for a two-week honeymoon before classes began again in mid-September. She wrinkled her brow as she thought of summer and what it held for her.
“Hey, Katie-Katie!”
Hearing Sam’s voice, she turned and saw him laughing and motioning off to the distance. “Katie, my love,” he shouted, “you’ve been away again.” He spread his arms to encompass the entire view. “Look at it. Remember it. We should have taken a camera with us.”
How could she ever forget this moment? It would be impossible. She would always treasure it. No matter what happened throughout her life, it was something she couldn’t and wouldn’t ever forget. She would always remember this place and time…and especially Sam. If only she had met him earlier. She swallowed hard, hoping to rid herself of the pain that seemed to be crushing her heart.
“New tracks to be made, Katie!” Sam yelled as the lift came to a lurching halt. “Come on.” He guided her to the back of the mountain. “This is the best run. It’s the one that takes your breath away. Literally.” He laughed. “This is the one you have to try. It’s exciting and dangerous and conquerable.” She shivered as he described it. “And how you can stay at Cedar Crest and never attempt this run, I can’t imagine.”
As he grinned at her, she forced herse
lf to smile. One more thing to know and love and like about him—his enthusiasm, his zest for life even when he was troubled.
She stood poised at the top of the peak, looking down at the scene he indicated, and she caught her breath at its magnificence. She had never been on this far side of Devil’s Mist and she pushed her poles into the snow in order to stay absolutely still and look at it in its entire splendor. From where she stood, it was a long, steep run to the base of the mountain, and it was punctuated by large stands of firs and cedars. The trees stood tall and formidable in their places, giving shelter and protection in snowstorms, but quietly warning bewitched skiers to stay clear of their domain.
The terrain was tricky and deceptive and to a novice it would look like a fairly straight run. But the experienced skier would recognize that scattered over the mountainside, in addition to the trees, were large formations of rock. Half hidden by the deep snow, they jutted up from the earth and shimmered and glinted in the cold sunlight.
She blinked her eyes and adjusted her sunglasses to compensate for the extraordinary brightness. The absolute whiteness of the snow and the gleaming, brilliant crystals over the entire mountain had become yet another photograph in her mind. There were so many memories to take back with her, so many bittersweet memories to recall through the years.
“Well, what do you think?” Sam touched her elbow. “Ready to try it?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, Sam. I’m just looking at it. Wondering.” She blew into the frigid air and saw puffs of vapor in front of her face.
“Don’t wonder, Katie. Do it. I’ll go down first if you want me to and I’ll stop halfway and wait for you.”
She shook her head again. “I need a few more minutes.”
“Katie, some days you just have to go ahead and do it!” Sam’s voice was gentle yet urgent. “Sometimes, you just have to go ahead and do something without thinking of all the consequences. You have to jump in and participate. You can’t stand back and wait, Katie, because sometimes. . .” His voice grew fainter so that she had to strain to hear him. “Because sometimes you lose everything if you hesitate too long.”
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