Snowbound in Montana (5 page)

Eliza took an extra minute to finish her coffee, then was heading to the washroom when she heard Kevin shout, “But I want to go!”

“You’re too little. Mom and I will stay back with you. Anna, you go ahead with your friends.” As soon as the father said this, his teenaged daughter took off at a run.

“Thanks, Dad! See you later, Mom!”

“Not fair!” Kevin stared after his sister, then punched his fist in the air.

“It wouldn’t be fun with all this snow anyway,” his mother said. “Come on Kevin. Let’s go back to the room and get a book to read.”

“A book? Why can’t we go sledding?”

“Maybe later…”

Eliza didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. She had to get a move on or she’d hold up the group.

*

It was hard
work skiing in all the fresh powder, but Eliza loved it. Once more, she’d started out at the back of the pack, but within an hour she advanced to the front with Marshall. He’d shown her how to pole more effectively and it was really helping. Every now and then he went back to check on the others. Then, he’d return to ski with her for a bit.

“You’re such a natural. It’s hard to believe you’ve only been skiing for two years.”

“Too bad I didn’t start earlier. I might have been able to train for the Olympics, like you.”

“No doubt.”

She laughed. “Seriously, though, how did you get started on the Olympic track?”

“I can thank my aunt for that. I lived with her and her husband in Denver for three years. They were avid skiers, up in Aspen every weekend in the winter. They enrolled me in a learn-to-ski program that included some Nordic as well as downhill. It didn’t take long for me to figure out which of the two I preferred.”

“Were you still living with them when you were injured?”

“No. That happened in Utah, and I was with a foster family by then, arranged by my ski coach. They kept in touch with me after my accident, but by the time I came out of the hospital, I was eighteen and able to live on my own.”

“And the accident? How did it happen?”

“I was blindsided by a skier, coming down a track that merged with the one I was on. I had the right of way, but it didn’t matter. My legs still broke, and I ended up in a coma that lasted forty-eight hours. The legs healed, but it was the brain trauma that finished my career.”

“That sounds scary.”

“Yeah. It was. I had trouble concentrating for a long time after that. I had to go to speech therapy, as well.”

Using his ski pole, Marshall pointed to a clearing up ahead. “Hard to tell now, but we’re on the ridge. Usually an amazing view over there.”

But today, all they saw was grey fog and snow.

An hour later, they stopped for lunch, at another spot Marshall assured them typically had an incredible view over the valley. It was so cold, they ate quickly, no one said much. Soon they were back on the trail.

And the snow kept coming.

Despite being part of a large group, the snow was so heavy now, that Eliza could hear nothing but the sound of her skis crunching against the track, her breath loud and labored in her ears. The pine trees were snow-shrouded ghosts, pressing in from either side. She couldn’t see more than three feet in front of her. Every forward glide was an exercise in trust, as she had no idea where she was going.

She had to admit she felt relieved when she finally caught a glimpse of the lodge’s red door.

Eliza left her skis and boots in the drying room, along with her soggy jacket, mitts and hat. Her cheeks tingled as they met with the warm air from the fire. When she rubbed her nose, she discovered it was totally numb. And so were her toes.

The afternoon tea made all the effort of the ski worthwhile. There were oatmeal scones, huckleberry preserves, and clotted cream. Bowls of steaming hot vegetable soup, and warm brie served with toasted walnuts and rosemary flatbread. Best of all was the layered chocolate cake for dessert, with brandied cherries and whipped cream.

And the Earl Grey tea went perfectly with all of the above.

“I feel like I’m in heaven,” Eliza confessed. Marshall had taken the seat across from her, and she had to admit she was glad. So far, she hadn’t had much success breaking the ice with the other people in the group. Besides, Marshall was proving to be more interesting than she’d expected.

She asked him questions about his years on the ski team, and then about the injury and what it had been like to have his dreams taken away so abruptly like that.

“Honestly, I wasn’t in any shape to care. Not for a long time.”

It made her heart ache to see the sadness in his eyes. “How long were you in hospital?”

“Two months. Then two years of rehab after that. Luckily, I had insurance with the team.”

Which implied his family would not have had the medical coverage to deal with it. “Your parents must have been terribly worried about you.”

Marshall, up until now so open and frank with her, glanced down at the table. “I’m sure Mom was, but she was living across the country, remarried with a new family. And my father was working in the oilfields in South America. He still is.”

“But—they must have visited you.”

“Mom did a few times. But she had a young family who needed her. And obviously, it would have been a really long trip for my Dad.”

Her questions were making him uncomfortable, so she stopped. But her curiosity was anything but sated. Her parents weren’t the warm and mushy type. But she knew, if she was in a serious accident the way Marshall had been, they would be there. They just would.

“What about your family? Why aren’t you spending your holidays with them?”

She’d figured he would ask that question eventually. And it was fair, especially since he’d been so candid with her. “My parents live in California, as do my sister and brothers and their families. We’ve never made a big deal about Christmas. Mom always preferred to spend the money and time on travelling and avoid the fuss.”

“So where are they this year?”

“Maui.”

“With this crazy weather, you probably wish you’d gone with them.”

She didn’t even have to think about that. “No. I’m good with this.”

“I hope you still feel that way when you hear the announcements I’m about to make.” He stood up and asked if he could have everyone’s attention for a few minutes.

“Just a few things I need to let you know about. First, the roads were in no shape for the cleaning crew to get out here this morning. You’ll have to make your own beds today. Hopefully, you’ve been hanging your towels to dry and can reuse them, but if you need fresh ones, talk to me and I’ll find you something.”

“I guess we can handle that,” Buck Brackett said. “But what’s the deal with the cleaning crew? Haven’t the plows been out clearing the roads?”

“The county’s having a hard enough time keeping the main roads open right now,” Marshall explained. “They probably won’t get to our access road until the snow stops.”

“But—Griff has a plow, doesn’t he? I’ve seen him using it to clear the area around the lodge.”

“Yes. But it’s not big enough to clear fifteen miles of access road. I’m afraid we just have to wait this one out, Buck.” Marshall held up his hand. “And one more thing. You may have noticed the Wi-Fi is down.”

“I was just going to ask you about that,” said Alec Ritchie. “We haven’t been able to check our emails all morning.”

“I’m guessing at least one of the local cell phone towers is down. Probably both.”

A general moan went around the room then. Apparently the guests could deal with the loss of the housekeepers a lot better than the lack of Wi-Fi.

“This is the price we pay for being out in such pristine wilderness,” Marshall added. “I suggest you chill and enjoy the freedom of being unplugged for a few days.”

“A few days?” Alec’s voice verged on panic.

“Since tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, it’s unlikely the Internet will be back up until after the holidays. Sorry, folks, but there’s nothing I, or anyone else, can do about that. Mother Nature is the boss out here.”

Eliza carried her dirty dishes to the kitchen, where she found the cook, Griff’s wife Betsy, struggling to keep up. “I hear you’re short-handed.”

“We sure are.” Betsy looked frazzled. Several strands of grey hair had escaped her bun, and the apron tied around her portly frame looked far from fresh. “But don’t you worry about that. We’ll get by.”

“How about I load the dishwasher for you?”

“No need for that, Miss.”

But Eliza could see that clearly that there was. Betsy was worn out from putting on a tea for fourteen people, and in another three hours she was expected to serve dinner to the same crew. “I manage a bed and breakfast. I know a thing or two about these things.”

“Do you? Well.” Betsy looked tempted to accept her offer. Then she shook her head. “But you’re a paying guest. It wouldn’t be right—”

“In normal situations, that’s true. But in an emergency, we all have to pull together.” Only after she’d said the words, did the meaning really penetrate. Up until then, she hadn’t worried too much about the blizzard. But as Marshall had said, they really were alone in the wilderness out here.

*

At five o’clock,
Marshall was on his way outside, to go skating with Kevin, when he noticed Eliza emerge from the kitchen. He’d thought she must be up in her room, taking a nap, like a lot of the other guests.

“Everything okay?”

“I was just helping Betsy with a few things.” She glanced from his feet, to where Kevin was waiting impatiently by the back door. “Are you guys going skating?”

“Yes,” Kevin said, sounding impatient.

“I wish I could join you. But I didn’t pack any skates.”

“Not a problem. There’s a stash of them in the drying room. You’ll probably find something in your size. Want us to wait?” Marshall asked.

Poor Kevin looked like he was going to cry.

“You go ahead. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Marshall would have preferred to wait for her. But that wasn’t fair to Kevin. The poor kid had been climbing the walls all day. Apparently, his parents had claimed it was too cold to go sledding earlier in the day. And now, they were engrossed in a riveting game of Scrabble by the fireplace.

So instead of offering to help Eliza with her skates, he gave her a headlamp. “Sun is down now and it’ll soon be dark. Wear this over your toque so you can see where you’re going. There are some lights down at the skating pond, so once you get there you’ll be okay.”

The wind tried to whip the door out of his grasp when Marshall opened it. He grabbed the collar of Kevin’s coat with one hand, then took a couple of hockey sticks that were leaning against the outdoor wall. He already had a puck in his jacket pocket. “Stay close to me, okay?”

Kevin nodded, and remained right by his side as they walked the path to the skating pond. Griff had just finished clearing off the ice and gave them a wave as he drove the tractor off to commence plowing somewhere else.

Marshall handed Kevin one of the sticks, then dropped the puck down on the ice. Kevin had obviously skated before and he took a quick lap around the pond, bringing the puck alongside of him at the same time. Soon they were passing back and forth, which thrilled the little boy.

In the dusk, the pine trees around them were just dark shadows, like a wall surrounding the pond. A few swirls of pink and light blue trailed after the departed sun, but mostly the clouds were shades of gray and black. The snow continued to fall, but thanks to the forest they were somewhat protected from the winds.

A minute later, Marshall saw a faint light emerge from the lodge and begin moving in their direction. Eliza. He couldn’t help feeling glad as she progressed toward them. It was a foolish thing, letting himself enjoy her company so much. But he couldn’t help being impressed with her. Her skill at cross-country skiing. Her thoughtfulness in helping Betsy in the kitchen. And now this, making time to skate with a little boy when she could have been indulging in a nap or a nice soak in the tub before dinner.

As she drew nearer, the overhead lights picked up the red of her jacket, then the gold of her hair. “I brought you a stick,” he said, skating toward her and holding out the extra one.