The Christmas Swap

by Melody Carlson

  “Because I’m tired,” Emma said.

  “I’m not only tired, I’m achy and sore,” Harris confessed. “But Gillian’s making me go.”

  “Yeah, well, I feel sorry for leaving Grant here alone,” Emma protested.

  “He’s not alone,” Harris declared. “His parents are in there watching an old movie.”

  “I think it’s very thoughtful that Emma wants to keep my poor brother company.” Gillian used a sweet tone. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Especially since he got hurt trying to help her.”

  “I bet he’s asleep by now. He just took a pain pill.” Harris grabbed Emma’s hand. “Come on, Em, we won’t stay late. Just come and show us where this hot spot is located.”

  “She already told us.” Gillian’s tone turned impatient. “Let’s just go, Harris. Time’s a-wasting.”

  “Not without Emma.” Harris opened the car door. “Come on, Emma, get in. No excuses. This is your vacation too.”

  “Well, if Emma comes, maybe we should make West join us too,” Gillian said with arched brows. “That way she’ll have someone to dance with.”

  “But West is probably tired too,” Emma protested. “Why don’t we just—”

  “I’m not tired,” he said quickly. “Just let me put this away and I’ll be right back.” Before anyone could protest, West stashed his provisions, then returned. “How about if I drive?” he offered.

  “No,” Gillian said sharply. “I’m driving the Prius. You and Emma ride in back.”

  “My legs are too long for the back seat,” West told her. “How about Emma and I take the Jeep and just meet you there?”

  “Great plan!” Gillian gladly agreed.

  As West drove back to the club, he asked Emma more about her music. “I’ve been wishing I could hear you do some music. Have you recorded anything?”

  “No. I have a friend with a small studio. He keeps encouraging me to do an indie album—you know, to have something to sell at gigs—but I just can’t afford it. Not yet.”

  “Yeah, it’s not cheap to produce a decent indie. But I wish you had one, Emma. I’d love to hear you.”

  “I was tempted to bring my guitar up here, but Mr. Landers said to travel light.”

  “I can loan you a guitar.”

  “Really? You play guitar?”

  He admitted that he played not only the guitar but a few other instruments as well. Still, he didn’t say anything about songwriting. He liked that she still believed he was an impoverished caretaker. Going incognito allowed him to get acquainted with Emma on a level playing field. He didn’t want her to be so impressed by his music career that she no longer wanted to tell him about her own. Or worse yet—although he couldn’t imagine Emma acting this way—what if she tried to use him to launch her career? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened.

  When they went into Bullwinkle’s, Gillian was dragging Harris out to the dance floor. It wasn’t long before West and Emma went out there too. Then after just one dance, Harris insisted they switch partners. Gillian looked irritated, but at least she didn’t throw a full-blown fit over her new partner. West tried to treat her politely and couldn’t deny she was a decent dancer, but when the song ended, he left her on the floor, heading straight for Emma. And so it went. He’d barely finish a dance with Emma before Harris would jump in and whisk her away—and West would get stuck with the Ice Princess again.

  Finally, the band took a break, and while Emma visited the ladies’ room and Harris went to refresh their drinks, West was seated at a table with Gillian, trying to think of a way to excuse himself. At least she was more interested in her phone than him. When the band’s lead guitarist came over to introduce himself, shaking hands like they were old friends, West welcomed the distraction. “You guys are putting out some good music,” he told the musician.

  “Thanks, man, that means a lot coming from you.”

  “Oh, yeah.” West instantly realized his mistake. This guy knew who he was. “Well, thanks for providing us with some extra good dance tunes tonight. Looking forward to some more. Your band’s got a great beat.” He spoke quickly as he stood, thinking he’d make a getaway before his cover was completely blown. Fortunately, Gillian was still glued to her phone.

  “You still work with Gunner Price?” the guy asked with too much interest.

  West mumbled an affirmative, hoping Gillian was still oblivious.

  “Your songs are the best, TW. I write a little too, but nothing like your stuff. It’s an honor to meet you. I heard you lived in Breckenridge, but I never dreamed I’d actually meet you in person.”

  “Yeah, well, I sort of need to go, uh, to check on something.” West patted the guy on the back, then hurried away. Hopefully Gillian, distracted by her phone, had missed all that. But when the music started up again, and Harris and Emma weren’t back, Gillian found West. Grabbing him by the hand, she grinned as she tugged him out to the dance floor with her. The Ice Princess had figured him out—he knew it.

  Naturally, Harris used this opportunity to snag another dance with Emma. When Gillian refused to let West go for the next number, Harris got another dance with Emma. And another. Finally, West was fed up. The Ice Princess was a good dancer—and much friendlier than before—but he wanted to be with Emma.

  “I need a break,” he told Gillian. As they returned to their table, he didn’t see Emma or Harris, not on the dance floor . . . or anywhere.

  “Where’d they go—have you seen them?” he asked Gillian.

  “Oh, Emma texted me a while ago. She’s driving Harris home.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I told her to just get the keys from my bag and use the Prius.”

  “But why?” he demanded. “Why did Emma need to drive him home?”

  “Because Harris got a bad charley horse in his leg and could barely walk, let alone dance. It was probably from that treacherous slope you took him down today.” She shook a finger at him with a sly smile. “Harris claims you tried to kill him.”

  “That’s not exactly what happened.” West was trying to wrap his head around this. Emma took Harris home and now he was stuck here with the Ice Princess?

  “I’m sorry, West, I should’ve mentioned it to you earlier. But we were having such a good time dancing.” Her expression held a saccharine sweetness. “Who would guess that a caretaker has so many hidden talents?”

  “Hidden talents?” He was trying to think of a way to put this evening to an end.

  Her blue eyes twinkled. “Expert skier, expert dancer . . . makes me wonder what else you do expertly . . .”

  “I’m a pretty good driver,” he said wryly. “I can drive us home.”

  She stuck out her lower lip. “So you don’t want to dance with me anymore? Just because Emma and Harris are gone?”

  “It’s late, Gillian. And I know you weren’t too eager to dance with me—”

  “Oh, that’s just my little act. You should ask Emma about it. I always play hard to get around guys who interest me.”

  “Really?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why would I interest you?”

  “Because you’re so interesting.” She laughed. “And after hearing everyone bragging about what a great ski instructor you are, I’m wondering if you’d have the patience to teach someone as uncoordinated as me. I’m afraid I have two left feet.”

  “For two left feet, you’re pretty good out there on the dance floor.”

  “Well, thank you.” She beamed at him. “So there might be hope for me to learn to ski?”

  “I’m sure there’s hope. There’s always hope. I’ve seen guys without legs ripping down a run.”

  She giggled. “So that’s a yes—you will teach me to ski?”

  “I, uh, I didn’t say that.” He glumly shook his head. “I know what you’re doing, Gillian. And it’s not working.”

  “What in the world do you mean?” She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. He almost expected her to flutter her eyelashes but was
glad she didn’t.

  “You know who I am.” He stared intently at her.

  “Sure. You’re West, the multitalented caretaker of the house we’re staying in.”

  “Right.” He knew she was playing him. She had to be. “Well, just so you know it, Gillian, I don’t like to play games.”

  “I totally understand. And I apologize for treating you so badly before. The truth is you hurt my feelings the first time we met. You have to admit you were a bit rude. For that reason, I wanted to punish you. But I am sorry about that. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I realize that there’s a lot more to you than I thought. The others were right.” She sighed. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  He shrugged. “Sure, I forgive you. But like I said, I’m not into games. Besides that, I’m tired. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home.”

  “I don’t mind at all. Especially if we need to get up early tomorrow. You know, for my first ski lesson.”

  He didn’t respond to this because he didn’t want to hear her pleading or coaxing, but he had no intention of playing ski instructor to the Ice Princess tomorrow—or ever. Despite her innocent claims, he felt fairly certain she’d figured out his true identity. That had to be the only reason she was no longer treating him like something slimy stuck to the bottom of her fur-lined boots.

  thirteen

  Emma couldn’t understand the change that had come over her normally snooty friend, but it seemed that Gillian had suddenly decided West was just great. “He’s even going to teach me to ski tomorrow,” she proclaimed from the foot of Emma’s bed.

  “That’s nice,” Emma said groggily. “But if you don’t mind, it’s pretty late, and I’m sleepy.”

  “Well, we just got home. And I was so excited I had to talk to someone. I wanted you to know that I was totally wrong about West. West . . . isn’t that a cool name?”

  “Uh-huh.” Emma yawned, leaning back into the pillows and wishing Gil would take the hint and go to bed.

  “And we had so much fun dancing tonight. He’s a good dancer. I get the feeling he’s really into me, Emma. I just wanted to make sure you understood about that. You know, in case it was a problem for you. But you did assure me—just this afternoon—that your only interest in him was as a ski instructor, right?”

  “Uh, yeah, right.” Emma wanted to take her words back but knew it was pointless to dissuade Gillian from whatever it was she was trying to do. If Gil was determined to win West’s attentions, let her. Emma felt pretty sure that a grounded guy like West would have little interest.

  “Okay then.” Gillian stood. “Good night, sweetie pie. Sorry to keep you up so late.” She turned off the light and slipped out the door. But now Emma was wide awake—wondering if that conversation had been real or just a weird dream. Was Gillian seriously interested in pursuing a relationship with West—the caretaker? It made absolutely no sense.

  Emma got out of bed and went over to look out at the snow-covered mountains, where a three-quarter moon illuminated them in an incredibly beautiful way. How would she feel if Gillian had fallen for West? And why wouldn’t she? Emma certainly had fallen for him.

  But had she really? Emma felt so confused. What was going on here? She ran this strange scenario round and round in her head, but she could not figure it out. Maybe Gillian was playing some sort of game with Emma, trying to get her to confess to having feelings for the caretaker so that Gillian could set her straight. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities when it came to Gillian. Still, it made no sense.

  After a restless night, Emma eventually fell asleep—and didn’t wake up until nine-thirty. She hurried to dress then went downstairs to talk to Gillian. Somehow she had to get to the bottom of last night’s very strange conversation, which she felt sure must’ve just been a bizarre dream. But Gillian wasn’t in her room. So Emma went down to the main floor where Grant was having coffee in the kitchen.

  “Where’s Gil?” Emma asked him.

  “Brace yourself. My ski bunny sister got up early to go skiing.” Grant shook his head in disbelief. “At least that’s what Mom said. I still can’t quite believe it.”

  “Seriously—skiing?” Emma blinked.

  “Yeah, and listen to this if you really want to blow your mind. She went skiing with West—aka the caretaker.”

  “Wow, that’s definitely weird.” Emma slowly filled a coffee cup. So it wasn’t a dream. Gillian had flip-flopped on the social status of their caretaker.

  “You’re telling me. Remember the lecture Gil gave us yesterday. What do you think happened to her? A head injury? Alien abduction and brainwashing?”

  “Well, if Gil wants to learn to ski, she couldn’t ask for a better teacher.” Emma tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Maybe so, but it’s still bizarre.”

  “What’s bizarre?” Harris came into the kitchen, reaching for a coffee mug.

  “Well, it’s bizarre that it looks like you’re barely able to walk, old man.” Grant laughed. “West sure took it out of you yesterday.”

  “I’ll be okay.” Harris stood straighter. “Just need to do some stretching and a little more time in the hot tub.”

  “But you’re not skiing today?” Emma asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I am.” He filled his coffee cup.

  “How about you?” Emma pointed to Grant. “I know you’re not skiing, but what are you up to?” She still felt a bit guilty for his broken arm.

  “I’d kinda like to spook around town.” He lowered his voice. “Mom and Dad are heading out to do some Christmas shopping, which reminded me I don’t have anything for—”

  “Hey, Gillian explicitly said no gifts since we were supposed to pack light for this trip.” Emma felt worried now—what if Christmas turned into a great big gift exchange? Mrs. Landers could be pretty extravagant sometimes.

  “Yeah, that’s what Dad told us, but you know how Mom always changes the rules. Anyway, I want to get a few things.” He held up his cast-enclosed arm. “But I can’t drive with this stupid thing.”

  “Want me to take you to town?” she asked halfheartedly.

  His eyes lit up. “Would you mind?”

  “Nah. Might be fun.” She finished her coffee, setting the mug in the sink.

  “Mind if I come too?” Harris asked hopefully.

  “I thought you were going skiing.” Grant frowned at him.

  “Well, I still might go . . . later.” Harris glanced at Emma. “Maybe you and I could ski this afternoon after we take our disabled buddy Christmas shopping.”

  Grant growled, holding up his cast like he planned to bean Harris, but Emma stepped between them. “Now, if you boys can’t get along, no one will go shopping today,” she teased in a maternal tone. “If I’m driving you, let’s get going. I’d like to get in at least a couple hours of skiing this afternoon.”

  “Me too,” Harris agreed. “How about if we finish up shopping in time to grab some lunch at the lodge? Then we’ll be set to ski.”

  “What about me—what am I supposed to do then?” Grant asked.

  “Maybe it’s your turn to be the snow bunny today,” Emma teased. “You can sit in the lodge looking all sweet and cute with your broken arm, sipping hot cocoa.”

  His eyes lit up. “Hey, I like that.”

  “So let’s get this show on the road.” Emma set her coffee mug in the sink. “Because I really do want to get in some skiing.” Even more than she wanted to ski, she wanted to see Gillian and West with her own eyes. Then maybe she’d be able to make sense of this crazy new development.

  West still didn’t know how it had happened, how the Ice Princess had maneuvered to get him to give her ski lessons first thing this morning, but here they were on the bunny slope. “I thought you said Emma was going to join us,” he told her after several runs, where she’d proved herself to be more coordinated than her brother.

  “Well, I thought that was the plan.” Gillian beamed at him as they boarded the ch
airlift again. “I’m sure that she and Harris were coming, but I haven’t seen them anywhere. Have you?”

  “No, but I know Emma was determined to get up here today. I can’t understand why she’s not—”

  “Maybe she changed her mind. You know, it’s a woman’s prerogative.” She laughed. “I do it all the time.”

  “But Emma said how much she loves skiing, and I was going to give her more lessons.”

  “Well, you are definitely a good ski instructor.” She patted his shoulder.

  “Maybe we should text them.” West pulled out his phone.

  “Let’s do this run first.” She pointed ahead. “It’s almost time to get off.”

  “No problem.” To prove this, he tucked his poles under his arm, texting Emma as he skied off.

  “Oh, West.” Gillian giggled. “You’re such a show-off. If I tried that, I’d land on my face.”

  “Yeah, I don’t recommend texting and skiing for anyone, particularly beginners.” He continued to ski into position without the use of his poles. “But I’m being careful. My biggest concern here is having a novice skier plow into me.”

  “You mean like me?” She jutted out her lower lip.

  “You’re actually catching on pretty well. Let’s see how you do on this run and then try to catch up with Emma and Harris.” He tipped his head to her. “Okay, you go first.”

  “I’ll try to remember everything you told me.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “You really are a great ski instructor, West.”

  “You mean for a caretaker?” he taunted. “Or a ski bum?”

  “Oh, West, I thought you’d forgiven me for my pettiness.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay, Gillian.” He pointed to an open spot on the slope. “Your turn. Do your stuff and remember what I told you.” He watched as she started down then checked his phone to discover Emma had already texted him back. Her response was a curt shopping in town. Nothing more. Almost as if she were giving him some sort of hint. But why? She’d seemed so friendly last night. He pocketed his phone and, keeping a safe distance from the beginners, zipped straight down the gentle slope, spraying snow as he reached Gillian at the bottom.