She gave a dry laugh. “Best advice you ever gave me, Dad. Meet us on the old Aspen View trail. Five bucks says I’ll beat you there.”
His eyes flickered. “I’ll take that bet, girl.”
With that, she pushed off and didn’t look back. Her entire world had narrowed to one reason to ski: Copper.
The slope fell away like a white wall. Trees dotted the incline, their limbs black and sharp as claws…their wells deep and deadly.
But it was probably the trees and rocks that saved Copper, who stood like a small chestnut speck at the bottom where the old trail passed. All alone and scared to death.
Not for long, buddy. Here I come.
Nicole shoved off.
The first rush nearly stole her breath. Gravity yanked her forward, skis biting the snow with a scrape that rattled up herbones. Her legs wobbled. Terror clawed at her throat, screaming at her to fall, to slow, to stop.
Eyes ahead. Where you look is where you go.
Her father’s voice snapped clean and steady in her head while her gaze shifted from the next ten feet in front of her to the horse she’d loved for ten years.
She leaned into the first turn, tipping her weight to her downhill ski. The edge carved, powder spraying her shin. Her poles rattled against the snow. She arced back the other way, then again, each S-turn a personal victory.
A tree lunged into her path, sudden and unexpected.
Pizza wedge. Toes in. Slow it down.
She forced her skis inward, edges biting deep. Her speed dropped. She righted herself, lungs searing, eyes watering, the tree behind her now, then another.
She turned, slowed, curved and let her skis eat the snow, her thighs and chest burning as she attacked every inch.
And then she heard Copper’s neigh grow more desperate, loud enough to cut through any thoughts. Her head snapped up. His dark eyes locked onto hers, ears pitched forward, body trembling but still. Like he’d been waiting for her all this time.
This wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about the fall nineteen years ago, or the tree well, or the promise she’d made to herself to never put skis on again. This was about Copper.
Nicole bent lower, feeling the air slice against her goggles, her breath hot in the frozen mask. She tipped into another turn, smoother this time, feeling like the mountain obeyed her.
Yes.Yes! Her skis carved like they remembered. Her body found rhythm.
She heard her father’s old encouragement echo through her head:Flow with it. Trust the edges. The mountain isn’t against you. It’s under you.
The fear dissolved into exhilaration. Wind rushed against her, sharp and wild. Powder flew in glittering arcs. The rhythm pulsed through her muscles: edge, carve, release. Edge, carve, release.
Copper’s ears pricked higher. He neighed again, a sound full of recognition and hope.
“I’m coming, boy!” Nicole shouted, her own voice breaking into laughter.
A final sweep, a graceful whoosh, and she skidded to a stop in a spray of snow, right in front of him.
She dropped her poles and flung herself forward, arms wrapping around his thick neck. He trembled beneath her touch, warm breath gusting against her cheek.
“Oh, Copper. My boy.” Her words cracked into a sob. She pulled out a sticky peppermint, fingers shaking, and he nibbled it from her palm, crunching with a snort.
She pressed her forehead to his mane. “We did it. You and me. We conquered our fears.”
The walk to Aspen View trail felt endless, with Nicole’s skis heavy under one arm, poles dragging, the other arm draped around Copper’s neck.
She coaxed him step by step, murmuring encouragement. “Steady, boy. Just a little farther. We’ve got this.”
When they turned the last bend to the old trail, she heard the rumble of the UTV and felt her frozen lips lift into a smile.
