Hearts Evergreen: A Cloud Mountain Christmas\A Match Made for Christmas (3 page)

T
ony Anderson was a liar. Skiing was nothing like riding a bike.

Terror tightened Maddie's throat as the lift carried them higher up the mountainside.

Why did she agree to do this? Workaholism was at least safer! She was never comfortable on skis, never much good at it. She was much better at cheering others on from the warmth and safety of the lodge. Only the truly adventurous wanted to rocket down the side of a mountain on two toothpicks.

“Relax, Maddie.”

She glanced at Tony. “Is it that obvious?”

“Afraid so.”

“What happens when we get to the top? I don't remember how to get off this thing.”

He pointed to where the lift deposited skiers before turning sharply for its return to the bottom of the mountain. “Just let your skis carry you off the seat and down the ramp. I'll be right beside you. You did fine down below. This isn't much different.”

He was wrong about that. There was a great deal of difference between staying upright on the bunny slope and staying upright while plunging down the mountain she could see below.

Why did I listen to David? This isn't fun!

“Ready, Maddie? Here we go.”

Was he kidding?

Somehow she found her skis flat against the ground and her bottom rising off the chairlift. Next thing she knew, she was down the ramp and stopped out of the way of the skiers who'd disembarked behind her.

“Good job.” Tony grinned as he lowered his ski goggles into place. “Told you it wouldn't be hard.”

She tried to return his smile, but it was a halfhearted effort.

God, get me down this mountain in one piece. Please.

Tony pointed with one of his poles. “That's the easiest trail on the front side of the mountain. I'll lead the way and set a nice, slow pace until you're comfortable.”

I won't be comfortable until I'm back in the lodge.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

He pushed off in front of her, his skis gliding over the snow without a sound. Drawing a quick breath, she followed suit, albeit without the same fluidity of motion. It was obvious, even to Maddie's untrained eyes, that few skiers used this particular trail. Probably too tame, even for the kiddie set. Which meant it might be okay for her.

Hmm. This wasn't too bad. She was managing to keep her skis parallel. Her knees were nicely flexed. No problem with the poles.

Lean. Turn. Glide.

Lean. Turn. Glide.

No, this wasn't bad at all.

Tall, snow-covered pine trees rose on either side of the track. Sunlight filtered through their branches, casting lacy shadows across the snow. Despite the frigid air, Maddie felt warm inside her snowpants, down-filled parka, knit cap and insulated gloves.

She might actually get to like this.

In front of her, Tony skied back and forth across the snow. About every third turn, he glanced back in her direction, no doubt to see if she'd fallen yet. This time when he looked back, she gave him a thumbs-up, letting him know she was A-okay.

Or not.

The almost level trail changed without warning. She felt the downward pull of the mountain. Her skis responded, moving faster over the snow. Maddie's heart quickened right along with the skis.

Too fast…too fast…too fast.

If Tony looked at her again, Maddie was too busy to notice. She needed her skis to behave.

Snow plow…snow plow…snow—

“Maddie!”

Her name on Tony's lips was the last thing that made sense to her. Then the world turned upside down and inside out. Her right ski went this way and her left ski went that way. She hit the ground—the snow wasn't nearly as soft as it looked—and felt it scrape her cheek before she tumbled, head over heels, for what seemed an eternity. She came to an abrupt halt at the base of an innocent-looking fir.

“Maddie?” Tony knelt beside her.

She looked up at him, dazed.

“Don't move yet. Let's make sure you're all in one piece.”

Don't move. Was he kidding? With everything spinning like a top? She didn't want to ever move again.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

She groaned. This wouldn't have happened if David Fairchild hadn't told her to have fun. Better hunched over her laptop than lying on her back in the snow while—

“Maddie? How many fingers?”

“Three. You're holding up three.” This was too embarrassing for words. “I'm all right, Tony. The only thing hurt is my ego.” She placed her elbows on the ground and pushed herself into a sitting position at the exact same moment her brain registered the pain shooting upward from her right leg. It stole her breath away. She dropped back to the ground.

“You're not all right.”

Eyes closed, she clenched her teeth. “No.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“My right leg. My ankle, I think. I don't know. I'm not sure. It hurts everywhere.”

“We'll need a stretcher to get you down the mountain.” He was silent a few moments. “I'll have to leave you alone while I get the Ski Patrol. There's nobody else in sight. Will you be okay?”

“Yes.” She wondered if she sounded as uncertain as she felt.

“Let's get my coat around you. We don't want you taking a chill while I'm gone.”

Maddie feared she might start to cry and the last thing she wanted to do was blubber like a baby in front of someone she had to negotiate with in the next few days.

“Here you go. I'll lift you up enough to slide the coat under your back. Ready? Here goes.”

Tony's voice was quiet, but somehow it was strong, too. Her fears lessened.

“Can you open your eyes?” he asked. “I need you to look at me.”

She complied.

“Now keep your eyes open. You need to stay alert. If someone comes down that trail, ask them to wait with you until I get back. I won't be long. I promise.” He squeezed her hand, emphasizing his words.

“I'll be okay. Stop worrying and go.”

He gave her a nod, his eyes filled with concern, and then he was gone,
swooshing
his way out of sight. The silence of the snowy mountain fell around her. She shivered, wishing she hadn't sent him away so soon.

It already seemed a long while since he'd left.

If this had been a downhill race, Tony might have given Bode Miller a run for his money. But no matter how fast he went, it wasn't fast enough. He remembered too well Maddie's pale face as she told him she would be okay. She hadn't looked okay. Pain had been evident in her big brown eyes.

Why hadn't he listened to her when she'd said she wasn't a good skier? Why hadn't he been content to buy her a treat in the candy shop?

Simple. Because he'd wanted to spend time with her. He'd wanted to enjoy her company before they got down to the business of haggling over the Uriah Small manuscript. She'd only be here four days and he'd wanted to make the most of them. Skiing seemed the natural option. It was, after all, why people came to Cloud Mountain, to ski and enjoy the great outdoors.

Still, her accident was his fault.

“Idiot.”

As soon as he reached the base of the mountain, Tony contacted the volunteer Ski Patrol. Next he asked the lift operator to call Dr. Martin and make sure he was waiting for them at the clinic. Then Tony got back on the chair lift, anxious to reach Maddie, hating the thought of her lying there alone in the snow, cold and scared.

Relief overwhelmed him when he turned a bend in the trail and saw two other skiers waiting with Maddie. As he drew closer, he recognized them. Gary and Betina Patterson. The brother and sister, both in their early twenties, had moved to Cloud Mountain this past summer to manage the local hardware store for their great-grandfather, Jake Patterson.

Gary saw Tony and came to meet him. “She told us you'd be here any minute.”

“How's she doing?”

“In pain but trying not to show it.”

“The patrol should be right behind me.” He skied forward. “I'm back, Maddie. We'll have you down the hill soon.” He knelt across from Betina. “I know you're hurting. I'm sure sorry it happened. I shouldn't have brought you up on the lift. You were doing fine down below.”

She gave him a game smile. “It isn't your fault. I could have declined your invitation.”

“Right now, I wish you had.”

She winced. “Right now, me, too.”

In honor of the Christmas season, Maddie opted for a red moon boot on her broken ankle. If she had to be miserable, she might as well be festively fashionable.

“No weight on that leg for two weeks,” Dr. Martin told her as he dried his hands. “Use the crutches. Fortunately, the break is in the distal fibula and doesn't involve the ankle joint itself. You should be able to get around without crutches in a couple of weeks.”

“I'm supposed to drive back to Boise on Monday.”

“Sorry, young lady. No driving for now.”

“But—”

“No driving.” The doctor shook his head. “Not for at least two weeks.”

Wasn't that just terrific? How was she supposed to get back to L.A. if she couldn't drive? It wasn't like Cloud Mountain had an airport where she could catch a flight. What would she do with herself for two weeks? Her negotiations with Tony wouldn't take but a couple of days. And then what? Besides, she couldn't afford to be away from the office for that long. There was no way she could stay here for two weeks. She would have to hire a car service.

“How long will I be in this boot?”

“Six to eight weeks.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

“Don't worry about where you'll stay,” Tony offered. “We'll move you to one of the rooms on the ground floor. It isn't as nice as the one you're in now, but you'll be comfortable there. Audrey and I will make sure you don't need for anything.”

Maddie cringed on the inside. How could she be a tough negotiator if Tony thought her needy and helpless? There must be something else she could say, something else she could do. She pressed a hand against her forehead, trying to focus her thoughts. If she could think straight—

“Take another one of these pain pills when you get back to the lodge.” The doctor spoke to Maddie, but he handed the prescription bottle to Tony. “They'll make you sleepy, but that's a good thing. It'll keep you down and your leg elevated.”

But I'm not supposed to be sleeping. I'm supposed to be working.

“I'll send in a wheelchair to see you out to your car.”

Maddie hadn't the energy to do anything but nod.

T
he pain in her ankle, combined with the narcotics Dr. Martin prescribed, caused time to pass in a blur. Whenever Maddie awoke from her drug-induced sleep, Audrey Tremaine was somewhere nearby, waiting to attend to her needs.

In one of her more lucid moments, Maddie called David to tell him what had happened to her. “But don't worry,” she added at the end of her tale. “I'll wrap up this deal in a few days.”

“I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about you. Are you sure you're getting proper care?” His voice sounded fuzzy and distant. “Is there anything you need?”

“Mmm.”

“Maddie?”

Darkness threatened at the edge of consciousness, then spun inward, narrowing the light until it was a mere pinprick. “I need to go now.” Without saying goodbye, she closed the cell phone and left it on the pillow as she drifted into a place of strange dreams.

Tony stared at the screen on his office computer. He was supposed to be attending to bookkeeping chores, but his thoughts were down the hall in the unfinished guestroom where Maddie lay sleeping. That's pretty much all she'd done in the two days since the accident.

With a groan, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “This is a fine mess.”

Maddie came to the lodge to negotiate the purchase of the manuscript. If Tony—his old college crush reawakened—hadn't been so het up about spending time with her, she wouldn't be lying in that room with a broken ankle and he might already have a sizeable check to deposit into his dwindling checking account. If only he'd kept his head out of the clouds and his thoughts on business.

But Maddie always did have a crazy effect on him. They probably hadn't exchanged more than a few dozen words in those years at BSU. And yet he'd fallen for her. Hard.

“I must be nuts.” That was the only explanation for the old feelings stirring back to life the moment Maddie walked into this lodge.

He rose from the chair and left his office, glancing toward the front desk as it came into view. Audrey was nowhere in sight. Maybe she was in with the patient. Quick strides carried him down the hall to the guestroom. He hesitated a moment, then rapped on the door.

Maddie answered, “Yes?”

“It's Tony. May I come in?”

There was a brief silence, then, “Yes.”

He turned the knob and opened the door.

She was sitting up in bed, her back propped with pillows. Two more pillows were tucked beneath her right leg. She wore a pink sweatshirt and a pair of black warm-up pants with the right pant leg cut off at the knee. Her ebony hair was caught in a ponytail on the top of her head. Although her face seemed pale, he thought there was less pain in her eyes.

“How're you feeling?” He stepped into the room, stopping near the threshold, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Better, I think.”

“You look better.”

She smoothed her hair. “I'll bet.”

“No, you do. Really.”

“Well, if I do, it's because Audrey has taken good care of me.”

“She loves to mother people.”

“She's been very kind. But I feel like such a bother.” She looked at the bottle of narcotics on top of the nightstand. “I don't think I'll take any more of those pain pills. At least not during the day. They really knock me for a loop. I can't stay awake, let alone think straight.”

“You probably needed to sleep. Your body's mending. How's the pain?”

“Bearable.”

“Is there anything I can get for you?”

“No. I have everything I need. Would I be in anyone's way if I moved to the reading room for a while? It might be more pleasant to work out there than in here.”

He let his gaze move over the guestroom—the dark paneled walls, the worn forest-green carpet, the single window that faced the storage shed. “Sorry about the dismal accommodations. It seemed better to have you on the ground floor.”

“I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining about the room. Please don't apologize.” She blushed as she lowered her eyes. “It would be awful if Audrey had to climb the stairs to wait on me.” She looked up again. “In fact, that should stop altogether. I know she has other things to do.”

Tony thought that extra color in her cheeks was most becoming. She looked lovely. Sweet. Vulnerable. Kissable.

Ker-thump
.

Kissable?

Easy there, Anderson.

He decided now would be a good time to leave. Clearing his throat, he pointed at the crutches leaning against the wall near the head of the bed. “Can you manage those all right?”

“Yes, I can manage.”

“Okay then. I'll leave you in peace.” He gave an abrupt nod and slipped out of the room.

Kissable, indeed.

Ker-thump.

The moment the door closed, Maddie covered her face with her hands. Did she look as flushed as she felt? Oh, she hoped not. Schoolgirls blushed, not career-focused businesswomen.

But she feared the worst. Her skin was warm to the touch. And why? Because, right in the middle of telling Tony she wanted to work in the reading room, she'd noticed how handsome he looked in his plaid flannel shirt, blue jeans and work boots. And then she'd thought how small the room felt with him standing in it. Small and…intimate.

Oh, my. Those pain pills had done more than make her sleepy. They'd made her lose all common sense.

Moving with care, she lowered her legs over the side of the bed, grimacing as the throbbing in her broken ankle intensified. Yet it was bearable, as she'd told Tony.

Tony…Could he possibly be the same guy she remembered from college? Glasses. Kind of skinny and very quiet. Smart but shy. Maybe her memory was flawed. Maybe she was thinking of someone else.

Which, of course, didn't matter in the least. It wasn't some college kid who wanted to sell a collectable manuscript to David. It was a businessman who needed cash flow.

“Back to business, Maddie,” she whispered as she reached for her crutches.

It took longer than she anticipated to wash up in the bathroom. There wasn't much she could do with her hair except leave it in a ponytail. However, she wasn't leaving this room without mascara and lipstick. She didn't want to frighten the other guests.

She chose a dark brown sweater from her clothes in the dresser, but she didn't change out of the warm-up pants. She wasn't willing to cut off a leg from any of the trousers or jeans she'd brought with her from California. Not unless she was forced to.

Ready at last, she slipped the strap of her computer case over her shoulder and, leaning on the crutches, made her way out of the guestroom, down the hall and into the lobby.

Audrey Tremaine was behind the front desk, speaking to someone on the telephone. Her eyes widened when she saw Maddie.

Maddie released the grip on her right crutch and pleasantly waved Audrey off before she continued across the lobby. In the reading room, a fire crackled on the hearth and the scent of pine garlands filled the air. Christmas lights twinkled around the frames of the windows and across the fireplace mantel. Outside the sky was a crisp and cloudless blue, sunlight making the snow sparkle.

How beautiful! The light from the windows and the warmth of the room were like a caress. She felt ten times better than she had five minutes before.

After a quick perusal of the room, she chose an over-stuffed chair near a north-facing window. A nearby wall socket would provide electricity for her laptop and she wouldn't get as much glare on the computer screen as she might have in one of the other chairs.

She set the computer case on a coffee table, then sank onto the chair and laid her crutches on the floor. The throbbing in her right foot reminded her that she needed to elevate it.

As if summoned, Audrey appeared in the doorway. “Goodness gracious. Are you sure you should be moving about this soon? And, more importantly, is there anything you need?” She bustled into the room.

“I'm sure.” Maddie glanced toward the loveseat against the opposite wall. “Come to think of it, I could use a pillow for under my foot. That way I won't worry about scratching the coffee table with this boot.”

Audrey fetched two throw pillows from the loveseat and brought them to Maddie. “Here. Let me help you.” She moved the computer case to the floor, replacing it with the pillows, then lifted and placed Maddie's right leg atop them. Next she drew a side table away from the wall and positioned it next to Maddie's chair. “How about a nice cup of tea? And don't tell me it'll be too much trouble, because it won't be.”

She smiled. “Tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

The moment the housekeeper left the room, Maddie drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The throbbing in her ankle had worsened over the past few minutes. No surprise, she supposed. She hadn't been up much since her fall.

She leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, drawing another deep breath. There. It wasn't so bad now. She would simply relax for a short while, then she would be ready to attend to some work.

The assigned ring of her cell phone announced a call from her mother. Oh, no. What would she tell Mom? She could imagine Doris Scott's reaction. Her mom would want to fly out to take care of her. She wouldn't care that the break was minor or that Maddie could manage fine on her crutches.

Better not to mention it.

She flipped open the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, dear. How are you enjoying your visit to Idaho?”

“There's lots of snow.” That seemed like something safe to say.

“Have you done anything fun?”

“I'm here on business, Mom. Remember?”

“Oh, I know. But I was hoping that you would have a good time. You never seem to do anything fun for yourself.”

She swallowed a sigh, wishing her mother didn't worry about her so much.

As if she'd heard Maddie's thoughts, her mom said, “I just want you to be happy, dear. That's all.”

“I know. And I love you for it. But I'm okay.” Apart from a broken ankle and some persistent self-pity. “I love doing what I do.”

For the next few minutes, they talked about Kate and Don and their two kids and everyone's plans for Christmas. Then, fearing the spotlight might return to her—and worse, that she might be forced to tell her mom about her broken ankle—Maddie decided it was time to end the call.

“I'd better get back to work, Mom. I'll call you after I return to L.A. Give my love to everyone.”

“I will, dear. You take care. We love you, too.”

Flipping the phone closed, Maddie looked out the window. From here, she could see the main ski lift, seats rocking and swaying as they headed skyward. If she hadn't gotten on that silly thing, she wouldn't have to be afraid to talk to her mother. If she had stayed in the lodge where she belonged, she wouldn't—

Right then, Tony appeared outside the window. He carried an ax against his right shoulder as he walked with long strides toward a large tree stump that poked up from the snow. Once there, he swung the ax downward, cutting into the surface of the stump. A nearby wood pile explained his intent.

Maddie leaned to one side for a better view as Tony set to work, chopping large chunks of wood into fireplace-sized pieces. He swung the ax in a smooth arc and the air
cracked
as the blade bit into the logs. Then he jerked the ax free and repeated the cycle. He made the work look easy. He even seemed to enjoy himself.

And she enjoyed watching. Enjoyed just looking at him. A man in his element. What woman wouldn't like to watch him?

She squeezed her eyes closed, alarmed by her wayward thoughts. The last man she'd enjoyed watching as he worked broke her heart into a million tiny pieces.

Not all men cheat on their wives.

No, but some of them did. And if Craig could fool her into thinking he loved her and would cherish her and be faithful to her, why couldn't the next guy fool her, too?

She didn't even want a “next guy.” One mistake was enough.

Maddie hated being divorced. Everything in her had longed for a lasting, God-centered marriage, to be one half of a couple who would grow old together. When she pledged herself to Craig, she thought they shared a belief in commitment and fidelity. How could she have
not
known the type of man he was? How could she have been so naive, so blind to the truth?

Because I chose to be.

She never wanted to make the same mistake again.

“It's been almost four years, Maddie,”
a friend had said to her a month ago.
“It's time for you to get back in the game.”
Her response was what it had always been:
“Not interested.”