CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I think it would be best if we went low profile,” Gavin stated, finishing his second helping of slightly burned chicken potpie. As if the passion that had exploded between them less than an hour before had been forgotten.
“Low profile?” Melanie repeated, unable to touch her food.
“If Michaels is really serious about making us the lead story in his next issue, we should diffuse it.”
“By not being together?” Why did it hurt so much?
As if noticing her pain, he reached across the table and wrapped warm fingers around her palm. His thumb slowly rubbed the back of her hand. “I just don’t want the focus of attention shifted from the lodge to us.” He offered her a patient smile. “It’s only for a little while, ’til the lodge gets on its feet. And believe me,” he added with a devilish twinkle in his eyes, “it’ll be as hard on me as it is on you.”
“You think so?”
“I know it.” With a sigh, he scraped his chair back and reached for his coat. “I’ve got to get back, but I’ll see you at the resort, right. Rich says you’ve got some pictures on consignment in the ski shop?”
“That’s right.”
“And you’ll be there for the grand opening?”
She nodded, though her throat was tight as she walked with him to the back door. “You bet.”
“Bring your ski gear. Maybe we could take a few runs together.”
“You’ll be too busy.”
“Then come up sometime before.” He reached for the handle of the door.
“I thought we were going low profile,” she teased, though she didn’t feel much like joking.
“We will. I doubt if Michaels will catch us on Devil’s Ridge or West Canyon.” He smiled as he mentioned two of the toughest runs on the mountain.
“It’s a date,” she said as he drew her outside and swept her into his arms. His lips caressed hers in a kiss that was full of promise and pain.
When he lifted his head again, he groaned. “We’ve got to do something about this,” he whispered, his voice rough as he rested his chin against her crown and held her close. Wrapped in the smell and feel of him, she hated to let go.
When at last he released her, she stood on the porch and watched as he ran across the yard and climbed into his truck. With a roar the engine caught, and as the pickup backed out of the drive, the beams of his headlights flashed against the old barn and the trunks of the trees in the backyard. As the light receded, she noticed the huge ponderosa with the gash in its bark, the ugly cut her father had made when he’d first learned she was pregnant all those years ago.
She closed her eyes for a second and wondered where she and Gavin would go from here. Would the future be bright and filled with happiness, or black with the loss of a love that was never meant to be?
“Don’t even think about it,” she told herself as she walked back into the house.
* * *
“I’ve got good news,” Dr. Hodges said as he switched on the light and illuminated an X-ray of Gavin’s leg.
“I could use some.” Gavin eyed the X-ray but couldn’t make head nor tail of it. He hadn’t seen Melanie in days, and was irritable. The lodge was opening the day after tomorrow, and he was up to his eyeballs in preparations. But he really didn’t give a damn. He just wanted to be with her.
“The fracture’s healed.” Hodges studied the X-ray again, narrowing his eyes, looking for some sign of the flaw that had sidelined Gavin.
Gavin felt a slow smile spread across his face as he thought about the season ahead. “I can race again.”
“Well,” Hodges said, his lips protruding thoughtfully, “there’s no physical reason why you can’t, at least not in your ankle. But if I were you, I’d give it a year before I raced competitively again.”
“So you’re releasing me?”
Hodges smiled a boyish grin. “For the time being. But if you have any pain—any at all—I want you back here, pronto.”
“You got it.” Gavin stood and shook Hodges’s hand. He felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from his shoulders and he wanted to celebrate. With Melanie. This afternoon . . .
* * *
Melanie was miserable. The past few days without Gavin she’d been cranky and upset and her stomach had been queasy. “All because of one man,” she chided herself stepped out of her studio and walked into the kitchen.
“About time you finished in there.”
Melanie nearly Jumped out of her skin. Gavin was there, half-kneeling, scratching Sassafras behind his ears.
“How’d you get in?” she asked, drinking in the sight of him. Dressed in gray slacks and a pullover sweater, his skin tanned and his hair unruly, he was as handsome as ever. He glanced up at her and her heart turned over.
“Breach in security. The front door was unlocked. I heard you in there and I didn’t want to bother you.” He straightened and his eyes sparkled. “Come on, get your gear.”
“My gear?” she repeated as his arms surrounded her.
“We’re going skiing.”
“Now? But I have work—”
“Who has time for that? We’re celebrating!” Wrapping strong arms around her waist, he spun her off the floor.
“Wait. Your leg!” she cried, though it was her stomach that lurched.
“That’s what we’re celebrating,” he said, dropping her back to her feet and planting a kiss against her forehead. “I’m invincible again.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
He winked. “The doctor’s released me. Given me the okay to race again!”
She felt her face drain of color. “This season?”
“As soon as I can pull it off. I’m rusty, of course, and older than most of the guys on the circuit. It’ll take some intense training, but I can work out at the lodge. And once Ridge Lodge is up and running, Rich and the manager can handle the rest.”
So he was leaving, again. All her private hopes disintegrated. Her father was right. Gavin’s first love was and would always be the thrill of downhill racing.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes suddenly serious.
“I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a smile that felt as fake as a three-dollar bill. “Just let me get my things.” Wriggling out of his embrace, she ran out of the kitchen and upstairs. Her head was pounding, and when she looked in the mirror she noticed that her face had turned ashen. “Great, Melanie—you’re a real trooper,” she chided, changing into a black turtleneck and her new jumpsuit, a purple and sea-green one-piece that she’d found in a local shop before she’d quit working for the Tribune.
She found her skis, poles and boots and packed a small bag for her goggles, gloves, sunglasses and an extra set of clothes. Then, before she went back downstairs, she splashed water on her face and fought a sudden attack of nausea.
“Hang in there,” she said angrily, furious with herself for overreacting to the news that he was leaving. A little blush and lipstick helped, and when she hurried downstairs, she’d pushed all thoughts of life without Gavin from her mind. They still had a little time together, and she was determined to make the best of it.
They drove to the lodge, and while Gavin changed, Melanie waited for him outside. The sky was blue and clear, and other skiers tackled the runs, gliding gracefully down the slopes or, in the case of the less experienced skiers, grappled with their balance as they snowplowed on the gradual hills.
Melanie smiled as she heard the crunch of boots behind her. Turning, she expected to find Gavin but was disappointed. Jim Doel was walking toward her, and his face was firm and set.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said.
Nervously, she replied, “Gavin and I decided to ski together before the crowd hits this weekend.”
Jim frowned. “Look, I don’t see any reason to beat around the bush.”
Melanie braced herself.
“A lot of things have happened between your family and mine, and Lord knows if I could change things I would. I’m the reason you grew up without a mother and I’ve lived with that for eighteen years. I’ve also lived with the fact that I wasn’t much of a father to Gavin, but he made it on his own. Became one of the best skiers in the whole damned country.”
“You should be proud,” Melanie said icily.
“Of some things. All I’m saying is that I’m sorry for the accident. If I could’ve traded places with your ma, I would’ve.”
“If you’re expecting me to forgive you—”
“Nope. What I expect is for you to leave Gavin alone. You’ve messed with his mind enough.” He raised faded eyes to hers. “He’s got a second chance, you know. Most people don’t get another one. And he loves racing.”
“I know.”
“So let him go.”
She inched her chin up a fraction. “Why would I take away something he loves so much? I’m not going to stop him from racing.”
He didn’t look as if he believed her, but she didn’t care. She had something else she had to get off her chest. And, though a part of her longed to blame him for the tragedy, she knew it was unfair. He’d paid for it with every day of his life. “As for my mother’s death, it was a long time ago,” she said, offering a slight smile. “I hope you can put it in the past where it belongs. I have.”
His jaw worked.
“And, though I doubt you and I will ever be close, regardless of how we feel about Gavin, I’d like for us to try to be fair with each other.”
His lips compressed. “All I want from you is a promise that you won’t interfere in his life.”
“How Gavin lives his life is Gavin’s business.”
“Glad you see things my way.”
“But I do care about him very much.”
“Then do what’s best for him.” With that, he strode toward the machine shed, and Melanie let out her breath slowly. She watched as Jim disappeared inside the shed, then she headed toward the lift. She wondered if she and Jim Doel could ever be comfortable around each other. Probably not.
Frowning, she adjusted her bindings and practiced skiing on the flat area behind the lodge.
“Hey! Let’s go!” Gavin, already on skis, was making his way to the Daredevil lift. Wearing a royal blue jacket and black ski pants, he planted his poles and she followed. Her heart soared at the sight of him, and she shoved his father from her thoughts. Today she was going to enjoy being with the man she loved.
The lift carried them over snow-covered runs, thick stands of pine and a frozen creek. Gavin rested one arm over the back of the chair, and they laughed and talked as they were swept up the mountainside.
Cool air brushed her cheeks and caught in her hair. Gavin touched her cheek and she smiled, happy to be alone with him. At the top of the lift, they slid down the ramp.
“Follow me,” Gavin urged, his voice excited, and Melanie only hoped she could keep up with him.
Melanie’s ski legs were better than she remembered, and she flew down the mountainside, snow spraying, hair whipping in the wind. Gavin, far ahead of her now, skied effortlessly. His movements were sure and strong, and as he glided from one plateau to the next, he waited for her.
At one plateau, she didn’t stop to catch her breath but flew past him, her laughter trailing in her wake. Gavin gave chase and breezed past her along a narrow trail that sliced through the trees.
Exhilaration pushed her onward, and the wind rushed against her face, stinging her eyes and tangling her hair. She rounded a bend and found Gavin stopped dead in his tracks, flagging her down.
“Giving up?” she quipped as she dug in her skis and stopped near him. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“No, I just thought you could use a rest.” To her amazement, he pressed hard on his bindings, releasing his skis from his boots.
“Me?” she mocked, still gulping breaths of fresh air. “I could do this for hours! You’re just wimping out on me.”
“Psh. Don’t kid yourself.” He glanced up, and his smile slashed his tanned skin. “Well,” he drawled, “I did have an ulterior motive.”
“And what’s that?”
“I wanted to get you alone up here.”
For the first time she realized that they had skied away from the major runs and that the lifts were far in the distance. The area was secluded, trees surrounding the trail and the frozen creek that peeked from beneath drifts of snow.
Gavin reached down and unfastened her bindings as well.
A thrill raced up Melanie’s spine. “And what did you plan to do with me?”
“Just this,” he said, taking her into his arms and pressing ice-cold lips to hers. They tumbled together in the snow and laughed as the icy powder tickled their noses and caught in their hair.
“Someone could come along at any minute,” she protested.
“Let them.” He kissed her again, and his lips warmed hers, heating her blood, easing the chill from her body.
Melanie’s heart knocked loudly, her pulse leaped and she wished she could stay here forever, locked in his arms, the pristine stillness of the snow-covered forest surrounding them.
When he reluctantly drew back, his gold-colored eyes gleamed and he smiled at her as if they’d been lovers for years, as if all the pain and twisted truths of the past had never existed. “I love you, Melanie,” he said, and tears tickled the corners of her eyes. She could hardly believe her ears. Gavin loved her? If only she could believe it was true.
“Well?” he asked.
“You know I love you, Gavin. I hate to admit it, but I probably always have.”
He laughed. “What’re we going to do about that?”
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly.
“Well, I do.” He kissed her again and, pulling her against him, lay with her in the snow. Warmth invaded her body, and she closed her eyes, remembering how much she’d loved him. That love seemed to pale compared to the emotions that tore at her now.
Shouts and hoots interrupted the stillness, and Gavin, with a groan, struggled to his feet. He pulled her upright just as two teenagers swished past them, spraying snow and hollering loudly.
“Come on,” Gavin said, eying the retreating figures. “Let’s get in a couple more runs before I lose control completely.”
“Or I do,” Melanie thought aloud, stepping into her skis.
They spent the rest of the afternoon on the mountain, laughing and talking.
Finally, after dark, Gavin drove her home. He lingered on the doorstep, holding her close and pressing urgent lips to hers.
“You could stay,” she offered, surprised at her sudden boldness.
“I have to be at the lodge.”
“Tonight?”
“I should be.”
She grinned up at him. “What would it take to change your mind?” she asked coyly, her fingers crawling up his chest
He grabbed her hands. “Don’t get me excited.”
“Why not?”
He kissed her again, harder this time, his lips sealing over hers, trapping the breath in her lungs. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes had darkened. “Oh, the hell with it! Since when was I responsible?”
Lifting her off her feet, he carried her inside, slammed and locked the door with one hand and hauled her upstairs, where he dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed.
A second later he was beside her, kissing her and removing their clothes, anxious to love her. And Melanie didn’t stop him. Sighing, she wound her arms around his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his head to hers.
Tonight, she thought. I’ll just think about tonight.
She woke early the next morning. It was still dark outside, but Gavin was staring down at her, his hand moving slowly against the smooth texture of her shoulder. She could see his face in the half-light from the moon sifting through the window.
“I’ve got to go,” he whispered.
“Already?” She clung to him, his body warm as it molded to hers.
“No choice. The grand opening is tomorrow.”
“At least let me make you breakfast.”
He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t,” she said crankily, unhappy he was leaving her, “but I want to.”
“Sure you do.” He laughed as she climbed out of bed and, slipping into her bathrobe, struggled with the belt.
Downstairs, she started the coffee, opened the back door for Sassafras, then decided to get the paper. Donning a ski jacket over her robe, she hurried to the mailbox, grabbed the paper with near-frozen fingers and returned to the warmth of the kitchen.
She tossed the paper onto the table and returned the coat to the rack, then set about making waffles and sausage, suppressing a yawn and listening to the sound of water running as Gavin showered.
How right this all felt, she thought dreamily, wondering what it would be like to be married to him.
Within minutes Gavin hurried downstairs, his hair combed and wet, his expression positively devilish. “Well, aren’t you the domestic one,” he joked, wrapping strong arms around her waist and standing behind her.
“Watch it,” she warned, lifting her spatula. “I’m armed.”
He laughed, his breath stirring her hair. “I’m shaking in my boots.”
“Sit,” she ordered good-naturedly, pointing with the spatula to the table. “You’re the one who had to get up at this ridiculous hour.”
He did as he was told, and as Melanie plucked the first waffle from the iron, Gavin snapped open the paper. Melanie placed the waffle and a couple of sizzling sausage links onto a plate, turned and set the plate on the table. As she did, Gavin’s hand grabbed her wrist.
She giggled, thinking he was still playing, but when she caught his glance, she realized that something was horribly wrong. His eyes were hard, his nostrils flared and his mouth a grim, hard line.
“What—what’s wrong?”
“Everything!”
“I don’t understand.”
Confused, she looked down at the table, then stood frozen, reading the headlines of the front page of the Tribune: GAVIN DOEL RETURNS TO TAYLOR’S CROSSING FOR LONG LOST LOVE.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“It just gets better and better,” he said, his lips tight.
Swallowing hard, she read the article, written by Jan, which detailed their romance and the feud between the two families. There was a picture of her and Gavin at the lodge, obviously young and in love, and a picture of Jim Doel, the man who went to jail for negligently killing Melanie’s mother.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered, reading on and feeling sick to her stomach. There was nothing written about the baby, just Melanie’s quick change of heart and short marriage to Neil Brooks.
“It could be worse,” he muttered, “and it probably will be.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that Michaels isn’t about to let up. Each week he’s going to find something to dredge up. Again and again.”
“The baby?” she whispered.
“Eventually.”
She sank into the nearest chair and told herself to be strong, that there was nothing more to worry about. She reached for Gavin’s hand, but he stood slowly and impaled her with angry eyes.
“I think I’d better leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got things to do.” His face darkened with determination. “And I can’t be sure that some reporter or hotshot photographer isn’t camped outside your back door.” There wasn’t the least spark of friendliness—or love—in his eyes. His expression was murderous.
“You—you think I was a part of this?” she whispered, disbelieving.
His jaw clamped together. “I don’t know, Melanie. Were you?”
“Are you serious? You know I wouldn’t do anything . . .” But she could see it in his eyes—all the past lies and accusations surfacing again. Her world tilted, and her fantasy shattered. “You’re right, you’d better leave,” she said, standing on legs that shook and threatened to buckle.
He hesitated just a moment as a glimmer of love glinted in his eyes, but he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house, letting the door bang behind him.
“And good riddance!” she said, tossing his uneaten breakfast into the trash before she collapsed and slid down the cabinets to the floor. Tears flooded her eyes, and she tried to fight them back.
Pounding an impotent fist against the cabinets, she hiccupped and sobbed, and then her stomach, already on edge, rumbled nauseously. She scrambled to her feet, dashed to the bathroom and promptly threw up.
When she was finished, she sluiced cold water on her face and looked at her white-faced reflection in the mirror. You’ve really got it bad, she thought sadly. She hadn’t wretched in years. The last time had been—
Time stopped. The world spun crazily.
With numbing disbelief Melanie realized that the last time she’d been so ill had been eight years ago, when she’d been pregnant with Gavin’s child.