Lie, Lie Again(85)

Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked the universe for a sign. Three skiers whizzed by, causing her eyes to spring open. They were swishing along the hill, their bodies nimble, making it look easy. Fun, even. She looked down and noticed for the first time that the run swelled upward at the end, and beyond that was the small hill packed with tiny skiers that meant the bottom was near! A natural stop and then the end. Was that the sign she’d been hoping for?

Whatever the case, she couldn’t stay here all day. Pressing her chapped lips together, she pushed off and headed straight down. Wind whooshed in her face as she gathered speed. The trees were no longer individual entities but a blur of white and green. A sickening mix of fear and excitement coursed through her veins as she neared the upward slope.

“Slow down!” someone shouted as she sped past.

She startled and pressed hard into a snowplow as the rickety fence at the edge of the run seemed to race toward her. But her legs were nearly in a split position, and she couldn’t slow herself. There was no time to think. She forced herself to topple to the side and fall onto the snow. But the momentum dragged her toward the fence. The world around her was a blur of white. I’m not dying on this mountain! It was a fleeting thought, but it reassured her as she crashed into the fence, tumbling as though she were attempting a somersault.

And then the heart-stopping roller-coaster ride slammed to an abrupt halt.

As she lay in the snow, her mind worked fast, as though it’d been taken over by a trained medic.

Feeling in arms?

Check.

Legs?

Check.

Helmet?

In place.

Skis?

Gone.

She rolled to a sitting position. Her neck ached, and she pressed a gloved hand to it. It was then that she noticed the blood. The sticky red smeared across her glove and marred the pristine snow with garish drops.

A tall skier dressed in black slowed to a stop near her. He pulled up his goggles and looked down at her. “Are you okay? That was quite a fall.”

She pulled off her gloves and swiped a hand beneath her eyes. “I think so, but I must’ve cut my neck when I landed.”

He peered at her skin, amazingly stable on his narrow skis. “We’ve gotta get you down the mountain.” As if she were a pop-up attraction at an amusement park, two kids breezed to a stop next to her, followed by a woman in bright blue, who swished down to where Riki’s skis had landed. The children gathered Riki’s poles. “My family,” the man said. “I’m Brady, by the way.” He reached down to hoist her up by the arm.

“I’m Riki. Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem. Are you skiing with your family? Some friends?”

“Yeah, but they got ahead of me.”

He nodded and turned to his wife, who had lined Riki’s skis up next to her. “Thanks, hon. I’ll help her down. Why don’t you take the kids and start with lunch? I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

“Sure.” She looked to Riki and pulled a package of tissues from her jacket pocket. “Take these to press against your cut—at least for now. They’ll have bandages down at the lodge. Or I can alert ski patrol if you’d rather. I have an app on my phone for them.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather just go now. Getting hauled down by ski patrol would be mortifying.” She pressed the tissue to her neck and was surprised at how it immediately clung to the moisture. Please let it be wet snow, not blood, she thought as she zipped her jacket up to her chin—where it should’ve been all along. When she’d put it on that morning, it had rubbed uncomfortably, so she’d only zipped it to her neck. Brady held her arm while she clicked back into her skis and put on her gloves.

“It’s not a long way down now, but we’re going to take this slow, okay? Follow my trail. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Shifting her goggles into place, she kept her eyes on the black-clad figure in front of her. His path was easy to follow. With each turn he made, he watched to make sure Riki was doing okay.

“Good!” he called. “You’ve got this!”

What a nice man. They came to a slow, uneventful stop near the lodge. “I’m worried about that cut. You’re going to need to get it looked at. Can you reach one of your friends?”

“I’ll call now. Thanks for all your help.”

“Sure thing. And take an easier run next time, okay?” He smiled in the comforting way that seemed unique to dads.

“Yeah. I will.”

He patted her on the back. “Take care, Riki.”

She jabbed the ends of her poles into the snow and fumbled with the zipper of her jacket pocket to get her phone, but it was futile with her gloves on. Using her teeth, she ripped off the glove and slipped out her phone, careful not to drop it in the snow. She dialed Chris and pressed the phone to her ear. But the words she heard made her heart sink.

It’s Chris. You know what to do.

She hit “End” and moved to take off her skis. As she walked into the lodge, people’s curious eyes followed her, but she ignored them. And who knows? Maybe she was only imagining it. For all she knew, the cut had bled only a little, and there was nothing to see. But the sticky warmth on her neck told her otherwise. After returning the rental skis and boots—she had no interest in using them again—she padded in her thick, damp socks to the locker room. If only Chris would walk in and take her back to the condo where they could sit in front of the fireplace. Ha! She collected her Uggs and purse from the locker. Before sliding on her warm boots, she removed her socks and rolled them into a ball, stuffing them in her purse along with her gloves. It was time to check the damage.