Kitabı oxu: «A Mom for Christmas»

Chapter 1

Aidan Wilde scanned the snowy slope, alert for skiers in trouble. Below the ridge, Whistler Mountain glowed silvery-blue in the fading light on this December afternoon. Every mogul, every half-submerged outcropping of granite was as familiar to Aidan as the swooshing of his skis through the crisp snow.

The eerie quality of the shadowed cliff face called forth memories of Charmaine. The place she’d fallen from was higher, in the permanently closed area near the peak, but as Aidan made his descent thoughts of his late wife skirted the edge of his mind. Six years on he could still see the look of surprise and horror in her eyes as she went over the precipice.

Lights winked on along the chairlift above him, dispelling the shadows and bringing his mind back to the present. Charmaine was gone. He’d failed her then and he could do nothing for her now, except take care of their daughter, Emily, who’d been a tiny baby when her mother had died. Keeping Emily safe, watching her grow up healthy and strong, was all that mattered.

A sudden gust of wind whipped the tops of the snowdrifts into a flurry of white. Aidan increased his speed, looking forward to picking up Emily from her grandmother’s and going home to their log house on the shores of Alta Lake. He and Emily would eat beef stew slow-cooked in the Crock-Pot then sit in front of the fire and read fairy tales of beautiful princesses living in remote towers. With no one to disturb their tranquil happiness they could wear their happy faces and pretend all was right with the world.

Outside the alpine patrol hut Aidan removed his skis and put them into the ski rack. Stamping snow from his boots, he clumped inside the bump room where the men and women of the ski patrol congregated. Several patrollers were seated at wooden tables playing cards. Others, like his partner Frederik, had come in from patrol and were removing their outerwear at wooden benches around the room’s perimeter.

“You are first on the mountain in the morning and last off in the evening,” Frederik commented good-naturedly in his precise Swiss-German accent. With his shaved head and once-broken nose he could be intimidating to those who didn’t know his gentle side.

Aidan shrugged out of the red-and-gray ski patrol jacket with the white cross on the back. “Just doing my job.”

Truth was, he lived and breathed Whistler Mountain. He’d grown up in its protective shadow and as a man viewed the world from its soaring peak, first as a downhill racer and now in the ski patrol. If not for the grounding influence of Emily he might spend all his time up here.

“Aidan!” Rich Waller strode across the room, black Gore-Tex pants rustling. His thermal undershirt clung to a well-developed torso and his thinning blond hair was stuck to his scalp with perspiration. “Christy’s looking for the incident report on the tourist with the broken leg you transported off the mountain this morning. Did you forget to log the information?”

Aidan glanced through the glass wall separating the bump room from the dispatcher’s office. Christy, seeing him look her way, tucked a long blond strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Aidan lifted a hand in greeting and turned back to Rich. “I didn’t forget. I just got busy.”

“Oh, okay.” Rich shrugged. “I was in the dispatch office when the call came in so I started it for you.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Aidan said.

“I don’t mind. No trouble at all.” Rich smiled and walked off toward the coffee machine.

“Rich can be too helpful,” Frederik said in a dry undertone.

Aidan sank onto the bench beside Frederik, pulled off his ski boots and wriggled his cramped toes in their thick wool socks. “He means well.”

“But he makes you look bad when you haven’t done anything wrong,” Frederik persisted. “Why do you let him?”

“Rich and I go back a long way. He was my partner for years until…until my wife died. Afterward I took a couple of months off and when I came back we’d both been reassigned.”

Rich had seen Charmaine come off the lift that tragic day on the mountain and he knew things no one else did about the circumstances surrounding her death. Aidan had walked on eggshells until Rich made it tacitly clear he wouldn’t say anything to anyone, not even the police. Ski patrol was about teamwork, camaraderie and trust. Aidan couldn’t fault Rich but somehow their relationship had never been quite the same, underscored as it was by subtle power plays on Rich’s part and tolerance on Aidan’s.

“He’s jealous of you,” Frederik said. “You’re a better skier and more well-liked, especially with the ladies.”

“Nah,” Aidan scoffed. “It’s true Rich used to go out with my late wife until I came along, but he was over that long ago.” Aidan was getting uncomfortable; time to change the subject. “Any word on your contract?”

Frederik’s face lit as he swiveled on the bench to face Aidan. “It’s been renewed for the winter season. Bob told me just before you came in,” he added, referring to the assistant patrol manager. “Feel like a drink to celebrate?”

“Thanks, but not tonight.” Aidan stood and peeled off his black ski pants. “Your girlfriend will be pleased you’re staying on in Whistler.”

“Liz is meeting me at Dusty’s,” Frederik said. “Come on, join us. I could ask her to bring a friend.”

A couple of years after Charmaine’s death, when the shock and grief had eased a little, Aidan had played the field, going out with a different woman every week. Gradually he’d lost interest in romances that went nowhere as he came to the sobering conclusion that after Charmaine, the chances of him forming a lasting relationship were slim to nil.

That hadn’t stopped his brother, Nate; his cousin, Marc; and now Frederik, from inundating Aidan with unwelcome attempts at matchmaking. Maybe if he told them the real reason he wasn’t looking to replace Charmaine they would accept he would always be a loner. But that was between him and the mountain.

“Emily’s waiting for me and I’ve got paperwork to do before I leave,” Aidan said. “Maybe another time.”

“Ja, sure,” Frederik said with cheerful skepticism. Rising, he gathered up his uniform and ski boots to carry them to his locker. “See you tomorrow.”

Aidan finished changing and went to the dispatch office to file his report. Christy glanced up from her computer screen. “Hey, Aidan, how’s it going?”

“Not bad. Rich said you were looking for the 10-40 on the woman with the broken leg.”

Rolling her eyes, Christy handed him a half-finished form. “I only asked him if you were on your way in to base. I knew you’d file when you got a chance.”

Aidan pulled a waterproof notebook from his pocket and, flipping to the correct page, began to transfer the information. The two-way radio crackled in the background and Christy turned her attention to taking the details of a call-in from another patroller. Aidan finished filling in the incident report and when Christy was free, handed it to her. Then he pulled on his gloves and lifted a hand in farewell. “Catch you later.”

“Wait, Aidan.” Christy rose and leaned over the counter, her fingers playing with the end of her ponytail. “Are you going to Dusty’s?”

“Not tonight. I’ve got to get home to Emily,” Aidan said quickly and smoothly. Christy was a good friend and he wanted to keep it that way.

Her full mouth curved downward in a disappointed droop. “You’re no fun.”

“A gorgeous girl like you will find someone to play with.” Aidan smiled warmly to take the sting out of his refusal. “Catch you later.”

He caught the gondola down the mountain and made his way through the village to his Land Cruiser, his boots crunching on the icy crusts of snow left by the plow. The streetlights came on as he drove out of Whistler Village and down Highway 99 to Emerald Estates where Charmaine’s mother, June, lived with her husband, Roy, in a two-story timber home among towering hemlock and spruce trees.

June cared for Emily after school and on Saturdays when Aidan’s shift fell on the weekend. Although she never came right out and accused him, he knew his mother-in-law blamed him for Charmaine’s death; certainly she didn’t believe his eyewitness account of her daughter’s last minutes alive.

Aidan drove through the gathering dark, picturing Emily waiting for him as she did every night, her small nose pressed against the window as she peered into the winter gloom, looking for the lights of his vehicle to turn into the driveway. Maybe Marc and Nate were right, he did need to get a life, but at the end of the day he didn’t care about anything very much as long as he had Emily.

Nicola Bond stepped off the bus at the Village Gate Boulevard, her stainless-steel camera case in hand and another camera bag slung over her shoulder. After the heat and humidity of Sydney the crisp mountain air bit her cheeks and sent her digging in the pockets of her navy down jacket for her gloves. A snowflake melted on her nose and she glanced up at the darkening sky to see fluffy white flecks drifting in the glow of the streetlight.

Instantly she was transported back to her childhood in Whistler before her family moved to Australia. She and her cousin Charmaine had gone skiing and ice-skating together, then as they’d grown older, Charmaine had taken Nicola to parties and dances. Charmaine had been beautiful, funny and smart. Everyone, including Nicola, had loved her.

“This your bag, miss?” The driver hauled her battered blue suitcase from the storage compartment beneath the bus and placed it on the hard-packed snow.

“Thanks.” Nicola’s breath came out in little puffs of condensation. With all her luggage accounted for she headed for a nearby phone booth.

She dialed her aunt’s number and glanced at her watch. Only four-thirty and it was already dark; she’d forgotten the early winter nights in Canada.

“June Greene speaking,” a cultured feminine voice said.

In the background Nicola could hear a high-pitched child’s voice. With a surge of excitement she wondered if she was listening to Charmaine’s little girl.

“Aunt June? It’s me, Nic.”

“Nicola!” her aunt exclaimed with pleasure. “Where are you?”

“In Whistler. I just arrived on the bus.”

June made a sound of exasperation. “You should have told us which flight you were coming in on. We’d have met you at the airport.”

“I didn’t want to put you out. The bus was fine. I’m calling now to let you know I’m here, instead of just turning up on your doorstep.”

“Roy is still at work and I’m stuck here at the house until Aidan picks up Emily,” June said. “If you want to find a place to have a coffee I’ll come for you as soon as he leaves.”

Aidan. Nicola had a crush on him in high school, a hopeless infatuation which she’d never even confided to Charmaine. Years later, when her cousin wrote that she was going to marry him, Nicola had thrust her jealousy aside; she could never compete with Charmaine.

She’d flown back to be a bridesmaid at Charmaine’s wedding. Aidan was the dashing groom sweeping his beautiful bride into a fairy tale life, and so handsome he made Nicola’s heart ache. That memory was in stark contrast to the snapshot June sent after Charmaine’s funeral of a grief-ravaged widower at a snowy graveside, holding his baby daughter.

Adjusting her eyes to the outside she could see the snowflakes were falling thicker and faster. “No, please don’t trouble yourself. I’ll get a taxi.”

She walked back to the Yellow Cab waiting at the taxi stand next to the bus stop and gave the driver her aunt’s address in Emerald Estates. Nicola burrowed into the corner of the back seat and peered through the window as the taxi bore her away. The tires sounded muffled on the thin layer of freshly fallen snow as they drove past expensive new condominiums and town houses. The resort had grown almost beyond recognition since she’d lived here, but the towering peaks of Whistler and Blackcomb Mountains that guarded the valley were comfortingly familiar.

June opened the door before Nicola could ring the bell. Her blond hair shining above a black cashmere cardigan, she opened her arms and enveloped Nicola in a warm embrace and a cloud of expensive perfume. “I can’t believe you’re here at last. You are staying for Christmas, aren’t you? Your father didn’t seem to know when I talked to him. He said something about a photography assignment.”

“That’s right,” Nicola said. “I’m meeting a colleague, a travel writer, here in January. I’m sorry it’s so last-minute but we just got the go-ahead on the book. I came early so I could spend the holiday with you and Uncle Roy.”

“That’s what I was hoping,” June said, releasing her. “When I heard you were coming I wrote my mother in Edmonton and asked her if she could get out to the coast, too.”

“I’d love to see Grammy.” Nicola let her camera case slide to floor. “Is she going to make it?”

“The last I heard she was trying to get a flight. Let’s not stand around in the hall. Give me that wet coat and come into the living room. Boots off, too, please—the carpets, you know. Aidan isn’t here yet so you’re in time to meet Emily.” June helped her out of her damp jacket, and hung it on the newel post at the base of the staircase.

As June spoke, Nicola caught a glimpse of a small blond head peeking around the door frame behind her aunt’s back. No sooner did Nicola meet the girl’s shy blue gaze than she ducked out of sight.

Nicola levered her feet out of her hiking boots and followed June into the elegant and formal living room, eager to get to know the little girl she’d thought about so often over the years. June had sent photos of Emily to Nicola’s mother every Christmas, but without Charmaine’s chatty letters Nicola knew few details about the girl. Nicola had written to Aidan after the funeral to express her condolences, but he’d never answered her letter and she hadn’t pursued further correspondence.

“Emily,” June called, glancing around. A toy tea set laid for two had been abandoned near the base of an artificial Christmas tree with silver needles and red ornaments. “Your cousin Nicola’s here from Australia. Come out and say hello like a good girl.” June met Nicola’s gaze apologetically, explaining in an undertone, “She’s bashful at first but once she gets to know you, she’s very charming, just like her mother.” Speaking louder, she tried to coax Emily, “We’re not playing hide-and-seek now, sweetheart.”

“Leave her,” Nicola begged, knowing firsthand how painful it was to be shy. “She’ll come out when she’s ready.”

“I suppose so,” June said. “If only her father would encourage her to be more social instead of hiding away with her like a hermit.”

Nicola was surprised at her aunt’s disapproving tone. She nodded to the sofa where the girl crouched out of sight. “Is there a problem?”

“Not with her. It’s him. I won’t go into it now. Little pitchers have big ears, if you know what I mean.” She gestured to the antique sofa. “Sit down and tell me all about your work. I must say, you haven’t changed. You look exactly the same as the day you left Whistler.”

Considering Nicola had been fifteen when she’d left and was now twenty-seven she wasn’t sure her aunt’s assessment was entirely complimentary even if it was largely accurate. She had the same chin-length blunt cut brown hair and the same waifish figure clad in bulky clothes of neutral shades that tended to blend in with her surroundings. Not that she was exactly color-coordinated with the pale-pink brocade covering June’s sofa.

In a few words she related the highlights of her career so far; taking photos of children with Santa Claus, graduating to studio portrait work, evolving to calendars and tourism assignments and finally culminating in her present job, freelance travel photography.

As she spoke she could hear faint scuffling sounds coming from behind the sofa where Emily was hiding. June went out of the room after murmuring something about coffee and Nicola was tempted to peek over the back to say hello. Instead she waited to see what Emily would do. The girl didn’t emerge.

Before long June returned with a tray bearing a pair of bone china coffee cups. Nicola glanced around for something to protect the polished surface of the pie-crust table at her elbow. She’d forgotten how intimidating her aunt’s home could be for someone used to putting her stocking feet up on the furniture and eating her dinner off her lap in front of the TV.

June supplied her with a coaster and sat beside her. “Tell me more about this book you’re working on.”

“Reiner’s been commissioned to do a coffee-table book on the ski resorts of Canada and the United States. He’s asked me to take the photos. It’s a fantastic opportunity professionally, plus I get to travel, visit my family and ski all the best mountains in North America.” Nicola paused to sip her coffee. “I haven’t done much skiing since moving to Australia and I miss it. Charmaine and I used to spend all our spare time on the mountain when we were girls.”

June’s face tightened, her smile freezing. “I remember.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicola murmured, kicking herself for referring to her cousin in the context of Whistler Mountain. “Her loss must still be painful for you.”

“It always will be.” The awkward silence was broken by the sound of a car turning into the driveway. June exhaled in relief and rose to go out to the hall. “That will be Aidan. Don’t worry, he won’t stay long.”

Emily popped up from behind the sofa and pressed her nose to the window, her small hands shielding her eyes to peer into the darkness. Her entire attention was on her father’s arrival, as if she’d been waiting for this moment the whole day. Nicola thought she seemed small for her age, more like a four- or five-year-old than a child of six. Odd, since Charmaine had been tall and Aidan was at least six foot two. Before Nicola could say hello Emily squeezed out from behind the sofa and in a blur of pink wool and purple corduroy, ran to the front door.

Nicola listened to June’s brisk report to Aidan about Emily’s day—what she ate for lunch and how much TV she’d watched after school. Aidan replied in curt phrases interspersed with instructions to Emily to get her snowsuit and boots. Clearly he was as impatient to be gone as June was to have him leave.

Nicola stayed where she was. She was disappointed at not getting a chance to talk to Emily but she didn’t particularly care if she met Aidan. She’d gotten over her crush a long time ago. At Charmaine’s wedding he’d looked right through her; chances were he’d do the same now. Attractive men like Aidan tended to treat her as if she were invisible.

“Wait, Daddy! I’ve got to get the tea set Grandma gave me.” Emily raced around the corner into the living room. Throwing Nicola a swift glance she knelt on the carpet to gather up the child-size china cups and saucers.

“Another present?” Aidan, sounding exasperated, said to June. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“I saw it in the store and knew Emily would love it,” June replied. “Don’t spoil my fun.”

Nicola had to strain to hear Aidan’s next words. “I wish you wouldn’t spoil her.”

Then unexpectedly, Aidan stood in the open double doorway, his athletic frame topped by windblown chestnut hair and searching green eyes. Despite her claim to indifference Nicola found her attention caught.

Aidan’s gaze skimmed over the sofa where she sat and came to rest on his daughter. “Hurry, Em. Let’s get going.”

Generally Nicola ignored such minor snubs but something made her stand and force him to notice her. “Hi, I’m Nicola.”

“Nic is Emily’s second cousin,” June explained coming into the room. “My brother Stan’s daughter from Australia. She’s in town to take pictures of the ski resort.”

Aidan’s face changed, registering recognition if not interest. “You were in the wedding party.”

So he had noticed her. Amazing. “I was maid of honor.”

Emily tugged on his pant leg. “Can we go now, Daddy?”

“I’ll get her backpack,” June said and left.

“Did you say hello to Nicola?” Aidan asked Emily.

Emily glanced shyly up at Nicola and whispered, “Hi.”

Nicola dropped to a crouch. The little girl looked astonishingly like Charmaine, with glowing pink skin and huge blue eyes. “Hi, Emily. Your mommy wasn’t just my cousin, she was my best friend. She was a year older than me and we shared everything, just as if we were sisters. She wrote me lots of letters and I brought them with me because I thought you might like to hear what she had to say.”

Emily buried her face in her dad’s jacket.

Aidan lifted his daughter’s chin. “Remember what I said about putting on a happy face?” he said. She nodded and gave Nicola a brief, forced smile. “Good girl. Now finish packing up your tea set.”

Emily ran back to her tea set and resumed placing the cups and plates into the box so carefully they barely made a sound.

Nicola turned to Aidan. “I never got a chance to say so in person but…” She lowered her voice out of respect. “I’m sorry about Charmaine.”

“Thank you.” His clipped response discouraged further conversation but she thought his gaze softened a little.

The two of them waited awkwardly, watching Emily. Nicola shoved her hands into the back pockets of her pants, tongue-tied. Aidan wasn’t helping in the least; he looked as though his thoughts were a million miles away.

June’s footsteps approached and Nicola turned with relief, only to groan inwardly when the phone rang in the kitchen and her aunt’s steps changed direction.

Emily finished packing up. Aidan stooped to pick up the box. “Go get your snowsuit on.”

Emily skipped out to the hall. Nicola trailed after. The girl climbed into her one-piece snowsuit then sat on the floor and struggled to get her foot into a boot.

“Where did those boots come from, Em?” her father said as he came through the doorway with the box under his arm.

“Grandma gave them to me. She said my old boots were ugly and she threw them away.” The new boots had fake fur around the top and a zipper up the inside which Emily hadn’t noticed. She was getting more baffled and defeated by the second.

Aidan muttered something about “too much,” then said, “Pull the zipper down first.”

Emily tried once and failed. “I can’t.”

“Try again,” Aidan urged.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” June appeared and handed Aidan a small bright pink backpack. Noticing Emily tugging at the zipper she kneeled and unzipped it for her.

“You should let her do it herself, Aunt June,” Nicola said, sympathizing with Aidan’s evident frustration.

June rose and folded her hands at her waist, smiling genially. “I’m sure when you have children of your own you’ll do a marvelous job, but I know my granddaughter.” She turned to Aidan. “Candace Taylor called to ask if I’d help on the Christmas Ball committee. I had to tell her no, of course, because I look after my granddaughter during the day.”

“I suppose I could make other arrangements for Emily,” Aidan began slowly.

“I’ve got free time while I’m here,” Nicola interrupted. “I’d be more than happy to look after her.”

“No, dear, that’s out of the question,” June replied. “We can’t rope you into baby-sitting during your visit.”

“I don’t mind, honest,” Nicola countered. “Aidan, what do you think?”