Page 74

As they neared the start of the slope, Sam stopped and rolled out the waterproof sheet onto the soft snow. “Have a seat.”

Maya climbed onto it and he joined her. Gazing upward, she saw a perfect view of the moon and stars above the valley. The familiarity of the scene clicked into place, and she sucked in her breath. “This is the view in Arran’s painting.” The one she had secretly stashed in her room and that she still didn’t know whether to keep or to give to Sam. She glanced over and he was smiling.

“That’s right.”

Holding his gaze, a large smile spread over her face. “I love it.”

Sam moved his gloved hand over to hers, covering it, and they both looked up again.

“It’s spectacular,” Maya whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly might break the spell of the place.

“Try this.” He lay down on the sheet, patting the space next to him, and Maya followed suit.

The velvety black sky domed above them, dotted with specks of silver and gold, the moon hanging full as the centerpiece.

Sam took her hand again, and she sighed. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

His voice was low and smooth. “You’re welcome.”

They lay there for a few moments, Maya taking in the patterns of light and feeling like the weight was drifting from her into the heavens. The warm sensation of Sam’s emotional rescue, along with the memory of his physical protection from the avalanche, made her feel as if she were wrapped in a comforting cocoon.

Finally, Sam spoke. “You aren’t selfish, Maya.”

Her breath caught, and she hesitated for a moment. Then she shifted a little closer to him on the sheet, sensing him doing the same, until their sides were touching and their entwined hands rested on where their thighs were in contact. “But Hana says that Dad worked hard to create this path of self-sufficiency for us. So that we wouldn’t have to struggle. And that I’m flaunting it in his face.” She swallowed. “It’s not fair for me to consider dumping all of that.”

Sam was silent for a second. “You want to dump accountancy?”

He seemed surprised to hear it. Maya turned her head so she could look at him, and he matched her posture, meeting her eyes. She nodded, her woolly hat rustling on the plastic sheeting and cutting into the silence. “It’s crossed my mind, since I started working at the resort. But I can’t do it.”

Sam turned his body to face her. “You’ve never thought that accountancy was for you, have you?”

His eyes seemed to draw her in. She could swear he had magnets in there. “No.”

“What do you want to do instead?”

Maya opened her mouth, still afraid to voice it. Sam shuffled a little closer, as if closing the gap between them would make it easier for her to get the words out.

“I want to stay on at the resort,” she said quietly.

Something shifted in his gaze, and he lifted his other hand to brush her hair from her face. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You can be self-sufficient and be a ski instructor. Plus, you can be happy. You aren’t doing any harm by wanting that, Maya. And you shouldn’t feel guilty about it.”

Looking into his eyes, she could believe anything he said. That’s what got me into trouble before. She glanced away. “I wish I could make them see that.”

He smiled. “We’ll think of something.”

Maya nodded, enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling of Sam insinuating they were a team. “Anyway. Enough about me and my nonsense. What’s going down with you?” She paused. “Out of the general dumping ground yet?”

He let out a short laugh. “I think the general dumping ground is where I always am, whether or not I sleep in my own room.”

She squeezed his hand and he reciprocated. “Want to talk about it?” She fell silent, expecting him to say no.

“Yeah. I do. I feel like it’s driving me crazy.”

She held on to his hand tightly.

Sam sighed. “We argued because I think she’s been going through my phone. Even deleting my messages.”

Deleting his messages . . . She shot him a frown.