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Authors: Clara Frost
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flapping out, dragging him off the line he wanted to follow.
“See if you can just angle the right ski inward,” Emily suggested. She stopped beside him, giving him a chance to adjust. “I think if you just snowplow with it at first, you can learn how to control the left ski more easily.”
They took their time working over to the ski lift. He made it with a few wobbles, but no falls. The real test would be up on the slope, though. He wasn’t the sort to be happy snowplowing down time and again, and she just hoped that the first time he truly had to plant and turn, the ski wouldn’t go flying. Or that his whole prosthesis wouldn’t go flying.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
The lift wasn’t much. A set of half a dozen simple chairs with a footrest for keeping the skis off the snow. The chairs looked to be evenly spaced on the lift, though she couldn’t see the top to be sure. The chairs only raised them a couple feet above the slope, but that worked out fine for her purposes. She didn’t want to go all the way to the top, anyway.
“When we stop, just jump off,” she said. “We can catch another chair at the bottom.”
The lift groaned into motion, carrying them along, up the mountainside. A cold wind blew down over them, nipping at their exposed skin. Emily let them get a few hundred yards up the slope before she hit the button to stop them. She waited for Rafa to hop off, then followed. The snow wasn’t a great powder, but so early in the season it wasn’t surprising. She glanced up at the clouds still building overhead. If they didn’t get fresh snowfall by morning, she was going to be surprised.
Rafa made it about twenty feet before getting the skis turned the wrong way. She wasn’t sure exactly what he said, but it was Spanish and he didn’t sound happy. He ended up sliding a dozen feet on his left ski, then slamming down awkwardly, the prosthetic blade tangling and his right ski sliding on down the hill
“Are you okay?” Emily asked, retrieving his errant ski and cutting back upslope to help him up.
Rafa closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m making it.” He jabbed his ski pole into the snow and levered himself to his feet. Emily gave him his ski and stooped, helping him get it into place.
“That feel okay?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt.”
He set his feet and snow plowed all the way down the hill. Emily cut back and forth behind him, all her normal enjoyment sucked out by Rafa’s obvious discomfort. She wasn’t entirely sure he was telling the truth about the pain, but he definitely didn’t look like he was having any fun.
She slid to a stop, taking care not to be flashy about it or to spray him with snow. “Do you just want to go back inside? We can try again tomorrow.”
Rafa stood up straighter, smiling grimly. “I’m fine.” He pushed off toward the lift.
As they rode up the lift the second time, Emily spotted Christa’s car coming down the lane toward the cabin. “There’s Christa and Paul,” she said.
Rafa breathed a sigh of relief.
“We can get off here,” Emily offered, stopping the lift.
Rafa hopped down without a word. He angled for the house, his sky blue and cream ski jacket slumping at the shoulders. “I could really go for a hot drink.”
Emily cruised along beside him. “Me, too.”
A few drinks, a little music and who knew, maybe she could get him into bed early.
Chapter 12
R AFA wrapped his left hand around his coffee mug, savoring the heat. Emily tipped in an ounce or so of brandy and waited for him to sip it. It burned wonderfully on the way down, the heat and the alcohol both.
“Is that enough?” She had a hopeful smile.
“For now.”
She desperately wanted him to have a good weekend, that much was obvious. He’d thought it would be fun, right up until he’d started down the slope and realized that he wasn’t going to be able to plant his right leg without losing his ski.
Emily put
“See if you can just angle the right ski inward,” Emily suggested. She stopped beside him, giving him a chance to adjust. “I think if you just snowplow with it at first, you can learn how to control the left ski more easily.”
They took their time working over to the ski lift. He made it with a few wobbles, but no falls. The real test would be up on the slope, though. He wasn’t the sort to be happy snowplowing down time and again, and she just hoped that the first time he truly had to plant and turn, the ski wouldn’t go flying. Or that his whole prosthesis wouldn’t go flying.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
The lift wasn’t much. A set of half a dozen simple chairs with a footrest for keeping the skis off the snow. The chairs looked to be evenly spaced on the lift, though she couldn’t see the top to be sure. The chairs only raised them a couple feet above the slope, but that worked out fine for her purposes. She didn’t want to go all the way to the top, anyway.
“When we stop, just jump off,” she said. “We can catch another chair at the bottom.”
The lift groaned into motion, carrying them along, up the mountainside. A cold wind blew down over them, nipping at their exposed skin. Emily let them get a few hundred yards up the slope before she hit the button to stop them. She waited for Rafa to hop off, then followed. The snow wasn’t a great powder, but so early in the season it wasn’t surprising. She glanced up at the clouds still building overhead. If they didn’t get fresh snowfall by morning, she was going to be surprised.
Rafa made it about twenty feet before getting the skis turned the wrong way. She wasn’t sure exactly what he said, but it was Spanish and he didn’t sound happy. He ended up sliding a dozen feet on his left ski, then slamming down awkwardly, the prosthetic blade tangling and his right ski sliding on down the hill
“Are you okay?” Emily asked, retrieving his errant ski and cutting back upslope to help him up.
Rafa closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m making it.” He jabbed his ski pole into the snow and levered himself to his feet. Emily gave him his ski and stooped, helping him get it into place.
“That feel okay?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt.”
He set his feet and snow plowed all the way down the hill. Emily cut back and forth behind him, all her normal enjoyment sucked out by Rafa’s obvious discomfort. She wasn’t entirely sure he was telling the truth about the pain, but he definitely didn’t look like he was having any fun.
She slid to a stop, taking care not to be flashy about it or to spray him with snow. “Do you just want to go back inside? We can try again tomorrow.”
Rafa stood up straighter, smiling grimly. “I’m fine.” He pushed off toward the lift.
As they rode up the lift the second time, Emily spotted Christa’s car coming down the lane toward the cabin. “There’s Christa and Paul,” she said.
Rafa breathed a sigh of relief.
“We can get off here,” Emily offered, stopping the lift.
Rafa hopped down without a word. He angled for the house, his sky blue and cream ski jacket slumping at the shoulders. “I could really go for a hot drink.”
Emily cruised along beside him. “Me, too.”
A few drinks, a little music and who knew, maybe she could get him into bed early.
Chapter 12
R AFA wrapped his left hand around his coffee mug, savoring the heat. Emily tipped in an ounce or so of brandy and waited for him to sip it. It burned wonderfully on the way down, the heat and the alcohol both.
“Is that enough?” She had a hopeful smile.
“For now.”
She desperately wanted him to have a good weekend, that much was obvious. He’d thought it would be fun, right up until he’d started down the slope and realized that he wasn’t going to be able to plant his right leg without losing his ski.
Emily put
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