“My spirit was almost exorcised by a sweeping avalanche. I’m still having nightmares. I may never sleep again.”
“Me either,” I muttered as a burst of wind carried with it the scent of mint and berries. She walked a few steps closer to the lift, and I squeezed her shoulders. “It’ll be fine. You can’t run away from the mountain just because you had a bad fall.”
Sage scoffed as she allowed me to guide her onto a moving chair. “Don’t use your ski nerd wisdom on me. I’m in your rickety excuse for an escalator, aren’t I? People are not meant to dangle over the treetops by a wire. If I die, put that on my tombstone. Tell the world my story.”
The chair lifted off the ground, and she yelped. I buried a smile and lowered the safety bar.
We climbed the first few minutes in silence, Sage holding onto the side of the lift with a death grip. Every time the chair bounced, her features grew paler. I leaned forward to adjust my position.
“Don’t move!” Sage’s fingers dug into my knee.
“You’re safe, Bennett,” I said, covering her hand with mine. “Nothing bad will happen. Trust me. Now, come here.” I raised my arm along the back of the chair, opening a space in the crook of my shoulder.
She seemed to calculate my offer, the wind speed, and whether the slightest movement might send us crashing to the ground. Finally, she nodded and inched into my side. Her muscles relaxed one by one as I draped my arm around her. A tiny sigh escaped her lips, and I tightened my hold, the air thinning in my chest. The best plan of my life had my emotions frayed and ready to snap.
“Better?” I asked, my chin resting near the top of her head. Wisps of her hair tickled my nose.
“Ask me again when I’m on the ground.” She snuggled closer, tucking her gloved hands against my chest. “What’s in the bag?”
“A surprise.”
“You’re very vague and mysterious. Being a villain has changed you.”
I smiled into her hair. “Nah. I’m still the same.” My voice dipped, filling with rust. “Some things haven’t changed at all.”
“That’s what scares me,” she whispered so quietly I wasn’t sure she meant for me to hear.
The lift rumbled to the top of the slope and I waved to the lift attendant as we disembarked.
“We’re going down the same way, right?” Sage asked, craning her neck toward the chairs revolving back down the mountain.
“Oh, now you want to ride the lift,” I teased. I snaked an arm around her middle and led her away from the main group of ski trails.
“Only because it’s efficient. Not because it was enjoyable.”
Her eyes glinted with humor. At least her fear was gone. I’d have to settle for lukewarm compliments until I could get the real thing. We walked a little further, detouring through a lightly wooded area. The snow crunched under our boots, untouched by others. It was quiet. Peaceful. No interruptions.
“Where are you taking me? Seriously, if you pull out a blindfold, I’m not taking another step.” Sage balled her fists on her hips as I bent to pull back a giant fir branch.
“Then you’ll miss the view.”
I heard her sharp inhale as the landscape came into focus. Giant snow-capped peaks shimmered in the distance. The sky was a crisp blue, and a heavy fog blanketed the lower slopes, revealing the tips of pine trees. It was a view you could stare at for hours. Never changing. Always steadfast.
No matter how far away you run, it would still be here waiting to welcome you back.
“There’s not even a cloud in the sky,” Sage murmured, tilting her head to allow the sunlight to catch her face.
“Come with me. I want to show you something else.” I guided Sage toward an enclosed outlook nearly hidden by the trees. The building was narrow, consisting of a platform behind a wall of giant windows. It was neglected with a few holes in the roof and had no electricity, but it was built on a sturdy foundation.
The door creaked open as we entered, and Sage wandered toward the expanse of windows. I removed a key from the zippered pocket in my bag and unlocked a closet containing an emergency kit, blankets, and a battery-powered heater.
Dragging out the blankets and the heater, I turned the battery on and placed it on the floor. “We won’t have beach weather with this thing, but it will take the chill off.”
“Darn. So much for the bikini I have on under this winter gear.” Sage removed her gloves and sat cross-legged while I handed her a thermos.
“Suddenly, I regret not taking you to the Polar Bear Plunge.”
She laughed softly and unscrewed the cap on the thermos. Her eyes drifted to half-mast as she breathed in the steam. “Peppermint hot chocolate. An underrated flavor, but it's my favorite.”
