Page 33 of A Bear Ski Instructor Christmas

He sat leaning against a tree, one hand clutching the side of his head. Next to him were his skis. Rachel’s felt her stomach plummet. The wooden skis had been snapped in halves. Some blood covered trickled down the side of Michael’s face.

“You’re injured!” she exclaimed.

He looked like he might pass out, but he flashed her a smirk. “I’ll live, princess. Nothing a bath and some rest can’t fix. Too bad they don’t have painkillers in Melinor, though…”

“What were youthinking?” Rachel was torn between giving him a well-deserved slap across the face and crying into his shoulder. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You could’ve—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes twinkled. “This isn’t like Lee Canyon. I didn’t even wear the Santa suit.”

Something about him was different. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

He winced as he straightened. “I couldn’t sleep, so I hopped on my skis and…well, I was out for a while. Opened my eyes only minutes ago. Help me up, will you?”

Rachel had a good mind to tell him to stay put while she went to get help, but she doubted he would listen to her anyway, so she obliged, grunting as she pulled him to his feet. She staggeredbut quickly regained her balance. His hair was covered with snow on one side and blood on the other. The bleeding didn’t look too serious, but a concussion was no laughing matter.

“You’ll need attending to once we get back to Melinor,” she told him.

He grinned. “Let’s hope Elena agrees to tend to my injury after I turned her down.” When her eyes widened, he explained. “She came to me some nights ago.”

“Oh.” A question that she hadn’t realized had been burning inside her suddenly burst out. “Is that why you didn’t say—?”

“No, that was different,” he assured her. “I do love you, Rachel.”

She blinked at him. “You…you do?” Was he being serious?

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that last night.” He chuckled, then winced again. “I’m sure it must have been weird for you.”

“Oh, it was super awkward.” Her cheeks burned. “Just thinking about it makes me wish the ground would swallow me up.”

“Well…” He took a step toward her, sticking out a hand. “Maybe we could start over. I’m Michael. Michael Malone.”

What was he getting at? She shook his hand. “Rachel Reeves.”

His grin widened. “Rolls right off the tongue.”

He shot her a wink, and alarm bells went off in her head.

Wait, what?

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I could…I could say the same about yours.”

He pulled her close, and she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him for all she was worth. She felt his arms slide around her waist. It wasn’t until she heard him grunt in pain that she returned to her senses. By the time they pulled apart, tears were streaming down her face.

“H-how?” she stammered.

He shrugged. “I guess taking a hit to the head was all I needed to get my memory back. I blacked out, and by the time I opened my eyes, it was all back.” He tapped his head, then winced again. “I remember everything.”

She allowed a smidgen of doubt to creep in. “Are you sure?”

In response, he simply reached for her, his fingers touching her neckpiece. “That was supposed to be a skiing woman,” he said. “I gave it to you years ago.”

Rachel wanted to melt into the snow. He was back. He reallywasback! More tears streamed down the sides of her face. Michael cupped her cheeks in his hands, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice solemn. “For disappearing all those years ago and leaving you to deal with my absence. For forgetting you. For…everything. I honestly can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.”

It was hell, that’s for sure. But it’s all over now.

She sniffled, smiling at him, wanting to kiss him again. “None of that was your fault, Michael. It’s this stupid mountain. You didn’t ask to be brought here or to lose your memory.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded slowly. “Still, I’d like to make up for lost time.”

She laughed. “Well, neither of us is leaving this mountain anytime soon. I’d say we have all the time we want. What do you have in mind?”

“I could give you more of those skiing lessons I promised.”

She glanced at the broken skis behind him. “I’ll pass. Why don’t we get back to the village first? It’s Christmas.” The fact seemed to register in her mind as if for the very first time today.

“It is,” he said.

Rachel beamed at him. Then he stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again on the lips. “Merry Christmas, Michael.”