C HAPTER 1
Fourteen-year-old Jeremy Parsons waited at the top of Sawtooth Ridge. This was his favorite run and his favorite time of day. The sun had almost gone down and the last of the stragglers had found their way off the slopes and were now sitting by the fire inside his grandfather’s ski lodge, sipping from mugs of hot chocolate.
Jeremy pulled his ski goggles down over his brown eyes and got ready. Inside his head, he heard the voice of the sportscaster:
And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have thenewcomer, Jeremy Parsons, competing in the downhill event against World Cup champion and Olympic gold medalist Jean-Claude Killy. Jeremy’s getting into position … and he’s off!
Jeremy lunged from the edge and plummeted down the slope. The wind whipped powdery snow up against his red cheeks. He swung around a dangerous stand of pine trees and then over a series of bumps. Everything was a blur. All he could think about was the finish line. At the bottom he skidded to a stop, turned, and breathlessly looked back up at the mountain.
Jean-Claude Killy had been a champion skier back in the 1960s. But he was Jeremy’s all-time favorite skier—and the one Jeremy always raced in his imagination.
“Did you beat him this time?”
Jeremy spun around and found himself looking into the face of his mirror image, his twin brother, Jason. Everyone said they looked exactly alike—the same curly blond hair, the same scattering of freckles. But there were some things about them that were definitely not alike. The way Jason loved to play practical jokes, for example.
Jeremy slid past his brother. “As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure.” Jason folded his arms. “I watched you come off Sawtooth. You were racing against Jean-Claude like you used to when we were kids.”
“So? What if I was?”
Jason’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, never mind. I just came up here to tell you I finished checking the other trails. Looks like everything’s all right.”
Jeremy felt a twinge of guilt. It had been his turn to check the trails and make sure all the skiers were in. Jason was only supposed to check the lifts. Jeremy ran his hand through his hair sheepishly. “Thanks. I’ll take your turn tomorrow.”
“No problem. Oh, one other thing. Grandma wants both of us to meet her in the lodge lobby when we’re done.”
“In the lodge?” Jeremy raised one eyebrow suspiciously. “Why not at the house?”
Jason shrugged. His brown eyes were wide and his face was the picture of innocence.
Jeremy stepped out of his bindings andhoisted his skis and poles onto his shoulder. “It must really be important if she wants to talk to both of us.”
“I’m sure it is.” Jason followed his brother down the well-worn path to the Thunder Valley Ski Lodge. Their grandfather had started the lodge more than thirty years earlier. Back then, the lodge was only a one-room log cabin and a rope tow that ran off a gasoline engine to haul the skiers to the top of the trail. It had grown into one of the finest small resorts in the country.
Jeremy and Jason were living at the lodge to help out this ski season. Their grandfather had broken his hip in a skiing accident, and their grandmother had asked the boys’ parents to let them stay for the winter. They would be tutored at the lodge. Since their parents would be traveling in Europe for most of the season anyway, they’d decided to let the boys stay.
Jason jumped up onto the wooden porch of the ski lodge and held the door open for his brother. Jeremy stepped inside, and the people sitting around the fireplace immediatelystopped talking. He shifted uncomfortably and leaned his skis against the wall.
Suddenly the room erupted with clapping and cheers. One of the college students walked over and slapped Jeremy on the back. “Way to go, Champ.”
A pretty girl in a pink ski suit called out, “Can I have your autograph?”
Jeremy gave his brother a questioning
Fourteen-year-old Jeremy Parsons waited at the top of Sawtooth Ridge. This was his favorite run and his favorite time of day. The sun had almost gone down and the last of the stragglers had found their way off the slopes and were now sitting by the fire inside his grandfather’s ski lodge, sipping from mugs of hot chocolate.
Jeremy pulled his ski goggles down over his brown eyes and got ready. Inside his head, he heard the voice of the sportscaster:
And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have thenewcomer, Jeremy Parsons, competing in the downhill event against World Cup champion and Olympic gold medalist Jean-Claude Killy. Jeremy’s getting into position … and he’s off!
Jeremy lunged from the edge and plummeted down the slope. The wind whipped powdery snow up against his red cheeks. He swung around a dangerous stand of pine trees and then over a series of bumps. Everything was a blur. All he could think about was the finish line. At the bottom he skidded to a stop, turned, and breathlessly looked back up at the mountain.
Jean-Claude Killy had been a champion skier back in the 1960s. But he was Jeremy’s all-time favorite skier—and the one Jeremy always raced in his imagination.
“Did you beat him this time?”
Jeremy spun around and found himself looking into the face of his mirror image, his twin brother, Jason. Everyone said they looked exactly alike—the same curly blond hair, the same scattering of freckles. But there were some things about them that were definitely not alike. The way Jason loved to play practical jokes, for example.
Jeremy slid past his brother. “As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure.” Jason folded his arms. “I watched you come off Sawtooth. You were racing against Jean-Claude like you used to when we were kids.”
“So? What if I was?”
Jason’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, never mind. I just came up here to tell you I finished checking the other trails. Looks like everything’s all right.”
Jeremy felt a twinge of guilt. It had been his turn to check the trails and make sure all the skiers were in. Jason was only supposed to check the lifts. Jeremy ran his hand through his hair sheepishly. “Thanks. I’ll take your turn tomorrow.”
“No problem. Oh, one other thing. Grandma wants both of us to meet her in the lodge lobby when we’re done.”
“In the lodge?” Jeremy raised one eyebrow suspiciously. “Why not at the house?”
Jason shrugged. His brown eyes were wide and his face was the picture of innocence.
Jeremy stepped out of his bindings andhoisted his skis and poles onto his shoulder. “It must really be important if she wants to talk to both of us.”
“I’m sure it is.” Jason followed his brother down the well-worn path to the Thunder Valley Ski Lodge. Their grandfather had started the lodge more than thirty years earlier. Back then, the lodge was only a one-room log cabin and a rope tow that ran off a gasoline engine to haul the skiers to the top of the trail. It had grown into one of the finest small resorts in the country.
Jeremy and Jason were living at the lodge to help out this ski season. Their grandfather had broken his hip in a skiing accident, and their grandmother had asked the boys’ parents to let them stay for the winter. They would be tutored at the lodge. Since their parents would be traveling in Europe for most of the season anyway, they’d decided to let the boys stay.
Jason jumped up onto the wooden porch of the ski lodge and held the door open for his brother. Jeremy stepped inside, and the people sitting around the fireplace immediatelystopped talking. He shifted uncomfortably and leaned his skis against the wall.
Suddenly the room erupted with clapping and cheers. One of the college students walked over and slapped Jeremy on the back. “Way to go, Champ.”
A pretty girl in a pink ski suit called out, “Can I have your autograph?”
Jeremy gave his brother a questioning
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