Space (Laws of Physics #2)(38)

Upon spotting Mona, who was now standing, her long shirt falling to her thighs, he grinned that grin again and slowly swaggered toward her. I glanced at Leo and found him glaring at me.

On the one hand, I understood his dilemma. Charlie was a good friend, they’d been through a lot together, and Charlie always had his back. On the other hand, just because setting Charlie straight was inconvenient and might be uncomfortable, Leo owed it to Mona, not just because she was his sister, but because it was the right thing to do.

Not thinking about the instinct too much, I crossed to where Mona was standing, not missing how Allyn was glaring at me. This wasn’t a surprise. She’d been sending me unfriendly looks since the second day they’d arrived.

Mona’s head lifted, her eyes connecting with mine just as I said, “Thanks for letting me share your sled. I’m sure Charlie won’t mind using Jenny’s.”

Mona started, her lashes fluttering, her eyes wide, and she nodded. “No—no problem.”

Giving her a flat smile, I nodded, sparing a glance for Allyn. She was still giving me a dirty look.

Sucking in a deep breath, I turned to face Charlie, who was now scowling at me.

Great.





“What’s this for?” Charlie, who was still sending me annoyed side-eyes—which I ignored, he’d get over it—tugged on the rope Mona had just finished threading through the pulley on the top of the hill.

The other pulley had been set in its place at the bottom of the hill. They both hung from sturdy, six-foot poles.

“It’s a pulley system. You attach your sled to the rope here, using the hooks welded to the sleds. And then you can pull the rope to send them back up to the top of the hill.” She pointed out two metal hooks that had been added unobtrusively to the underside of the five sleds. Apparently, she hadn’t just made one of the sleds. She’d made them all.

The hooks were encased in a small tube of the same metal and were retractable. Since the sleds were on ski rails and the platform sat off the ground, the hooks and their tubes wouldn’t interfere with sliding down the hill. The tubes also kept the hooks from inadvertently catching a person or their clothes. The design was smart.

“Huh. Smart.” Charlie grinned at her. “So you don’t have to carry the sled back up the hill.”

“Nice.” Nicole said, inspecting her sled.

We were at the crest of a hill overlooking the house, the slope and length were just the right for sledding. Not too steep where going ass over ankles was a concern, not too long where walking back up the hill would make repeated rides not worth the effort.

Mona started back down the hill, stomping her feet as she went and bending over every so often to pack down the snow.

“What are you doing?” Jenny asked. “Do you need help?”

“Making snow stairs, for people to climb instead of struggling with the slope. Even without having to carry the sled back up, as you experienced on the way up here, it can be difficult.”

I watched her work for a moment, knowing I’d be down there to help her whether she liked it or not. But first . . . I turned to glance at the pulley system she’d set up. Reaching for the rope, I tugged, hard. The poles holding the pulley and rope were extremely sturdy. They didn’t budge.

“Why do you need the stairs?” I asked. “Couldn’t you use the rope to pull yourself up?”

I felt unfriendly eyes on me, so I looked around. Sure enough, Allyn was watching me through near slits, arms crossed, her mouth pinched.

Glancing at the sky briefly, I decided to ignore her, too.

Keeping her focus on the snow, Mona sighed. “Well, not really. Because if you pull on the up rope, the other side—the down rope—moves in the pulley and you’d end up staying where you are.”

“Yeah. True. But if you held on to both ropes, both sides, neither would move. And you could pull yourself up the hill, which would be easier, less energy, and faster than either taking snow stairs or climbing.”

Mona glanced up and our eyes met. As I’d come to expect, my next breath was difficult.

I wonder when that’s going to stop.

She just looked. Her face blank as she seemed to consider me. Everyone else glanced between us.

“And,” I added as another option occurred to me, “if you didn’t want to use both ropes like that, you could use the pulley. Someone could stand up here and pull people up using the ‘down’ side of the rope, while the other person holds onto the ‘up’ rope.”

Mona inhaled slowly, straightening fully, her eyes still holding mine, a glimmer of something behind them. The barest of smiles curved her lips. I countered the compulsion to return her smile by scowling, needing a defensive barrier against the admiring look in her eyes and the faint—but no less impactful—curve of her lips.

She nodded. “You’re right. Those are both better options—smarter, simpler options, less time-consuming—than the snow stairs.” Dusting the white flakes from her hands, she walked back to where we stood. Specifically, she walked back to where I stood, holding the sled we would share. “We should do one or both of those.”

The others agreed and made their way to the set-off point in the center of the hill, lining up to take turns. Jenny made some joke about snow in the pants that had Connie and Nicole jogging ahead.