his head. Wendy, the day he’d first met her. One of her ski bindings had come loose and she’d sat down on a bench to fix it. He hadn’t known that; he’d just figured she was a snow bunny, busy adjusting her skis rather than facing the terrors of the slope. He’d watched her for a couple of minutes, his gaze taking in the long legs encased in black spandex, the riot of dark red curls peeping out from beneath a black knit cap. Finally, he’d put on his best Hey, I’m a Sexy Stud smile—it had worked wonders on lots of girls that winter—strolled up and used what had by then turned into the easiest pickup line in the world, tailor-made for snow bunnies.
“Hi,” he’d said. “Would you like some help?”
She’d looked up, and the intensity of those blue eyes had almost struck him speechless. Almost, but not quite. He’d mustered enough presence of mind to add that he was pretty good on skis. He smiled when he said it, in a self-deprecating kind of way that made it clear what he really meant was he was damn good. And, if she liked, he’d be happy to help her adjust her skis, and then take her to one of the easy runs, where he’d show her some basics.
Those gorgeous blue eyes had widened with something halfway between amusement and amazement.
“Thanks,” she’d said, very politely, “but I’ll be fine.”
And by the grace of whatever god had been watching, before he’d dug himself any deeper by saying he’d be glad to show her how to get on and off the chair lift, some dude in an anorak like hers had come along, ignored him, smiled at her and said the team was waiting for her.
The team? When she’d gotten to her feet, Seth had wanted to dig a hole in the snow and crawl in because emblazoned on the back of her jacket and on the dude’s was a downhill skier, obviously going a zillion miles an hour.
All New England Ski Team, the logo under the little figure said.
“Castleman?”
Seth blinked. Rod Pommier was looking at him, eyebrows lifted.
“Sorry.” Seth cleared his throat. “I was, uh, I was remembering what it was like, coming up here...”
“And deciding to stay. That was the big thing, wasn’t it? I mean, some decisions are tough. Whether to stay in a place or leave it, whether to do something you believe in even when you think people are using you....” The doctor gave a quick laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s always hard to make the right decision, but it’s got to be even harder if you’re an eighteen-year-old kid.”
“Yeah.” Seth shrugged. “Well, as I said, I kind of liked the town. And I met some people I liked, too.”
“A girl.” Rod nodded wisely. “Sure. You were eighteen and you met a girl. That was what almost kept me back in Canada. Come to think of it, it’s how I knew I wasn’t really in love with her. If I had been, I’d never have left. That’s why I’m figuring it was a girl who kept you in Cooper’s Corner.”
Seth thought about denying it, but what was the point? They were talking about the past, and that was where Wendy belonged. Yes, he’d loved her once, but he didn’t love her now. Maybe looking back would help keep things in perspective...or maybe, at the very least, it would stop him from waking up and going to sleep thinking about her, which he’d been doing all damned week, despite the bitter words they’d exchanged a couple of hours ago.
“You’re right,” he said after a minute, “it was a girl.”
“Let me guess. Seventeen. Pretty. A cheerleader at the high school.”
Seth stood up, crossed the room and ran his hand over the fireplace mantel. “Nice.” He rapped it lightly with his knuckles. “Oak. Probably local.”
“The girl?”
“The mant—” He looked at Pommier and laughed. “Yeah, she was local. And seventeen. And definitely pretty. In her senior year of high school. But she wasn’t a cheerleader. She was a skier. A champion skier.”
“Oh, hell.” Rod folded his arms over his chest. “Wendy
“Hi,” he’d said. “Would you like some help?”
She’d looked up, and the intensity of those blue eyes had almost struck him speechless. Almost, but not quite. He’d mustered enough presence of mind to add that he was pretty good on skis. He smiled when he said it, in a self-deprecating kind of way that made it clear what he really meant was he was damn good. And, if she liked, he’d be happy to help her adjust her skis, and then take her to one of the easy runs, where he’d show her some basics.
Those gorgeous blue eyes had widened with something halfway between amusement and amazement.
“Thanks,” she’d said, very politely, “but I’ll be fine.”
And by the grace of whatever god had been watching, before he’d dug himself any deeper by saying he’d be glad to show her how to get on and off the chair lift, some dude in an anorak like hers had come along, ignored him, smiled at her and said the team was waiting for her.
The team? When she’d gotten to her feet, Seth had wanted to dig a hole in the snow and crawl in because emblazoned on the back of her jacket and on the dude’s was a downhill skier, obviously going a zillion miles an hour.
All New England Ski Team, the logo under the little figure said.
“Castleman?”
Seth blinked. Rod Pommier was looking at him, eyebrows lifted.
“Sorry.” Seth cleared his throat. “I was, uh, I was remembering what it was like, coming up here...”
“And deciding to stay. That was the big thing, wasn’t it? I mean, some decisions are tough. Whether to stay in a place or leave it, whether to do something you believe in even when you think people are using you....” The doctor gave a quick laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s always hard to make the right decision, but it’s got to be even harder if you’re an eighteen-year-old kid.”
“Yeah.” Seth shrugged. “Well, as I said, I kind of liked the town. And I met some people I liked, too.”
“A girl.” Rod nodded wisely. “Sure. You were eighteen and you met a girl. That was what almost kept me back in Canada. Come to think of it, it’s how I knew I wasn’t really in love with her. If I had been, I’d never have left. That’s why I’m figuring it was a girl who kept you in Cooper’s Corner.”
Seth thought about denying it, but what was the point? They were talking about the past, and that was where Wendy belonged. Yes, he’d loved her once, but he didn’t love her now. Maybe looking back would help keep things in perspective...or maybe, at the very least, it would stop him from waking up and going to sleep thinking about her, which he’d been doing all damned week, despite the bitter words they’d exchanged a couple of hours ago.
“You’re right,” he said after a minute, “it was a girl.”
“Let me guess. Seventeen. Pretty. A cheerleader at the high school.”
Seth stood up, crossed the room and ran his hand over the fireplace mantel. “Nice.” He rapped it lightly with his knuckles. “Oak. Probably local.”
“The girl?”
“The mant—” He looked at Pommier and laughed. “Yeah, she was local. And seventeen. And definitely pretty. In her senior year of high school. But she wasn’t a cheerleader. She was a skier. A champion skier.”
“Oh, hell.” Rod folded his arms over his chest. “Wendy
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