Snowbound with Dr Delectable

Just driving here had made him break out in a sweat. The closer he’d come to the slopes as he’d driven up the mountain the harder it had been. Maybe she’d tell him that he wasn’t needed. He would gladly drive the two hours back to Pittsburgh.

“There’s an interview process here. You can’t just show up and expect to run the slopes as part of the patrol without some instruction. I need to know you’re qualified.”

Her questioning of his experience irritated him. At one time he’d bet he could’ve outskied anyone on this mountain and most of the others. The slip of a ski, a fence and a bungling EMT had ended that.

“I didn’t ‘just show up’. I was told that you had been notified of the change. I understood that I would either be teaching ski school or patrolling the bunny slope. I can assure you that I’m more than qualified to do either of those,” he said in an authoritative voice.

She blinked then squared her shoulders. “You may be, but I’ll need to see for myself. We have rules for a reason.”

This issue could be his ticket out, but the fairy-sized woman had got his hackles up. Despite not having skied for years, he didn’t like the implication he might not be good enough. He’d made the choice to hang up his skis not because he couldn’t ski but because he wouldn’t.

“An orientation couldn’t possibly be necessary in order to ski on the bunny slope.” Kyle didn’t even make an effort to keep the cynicism out of his voice. This situation was beginning to grate on his already strained nerves.

It had all begun when the partners in the clinic, Kyle included, had decided they should be more involved in community service. Kyle had volunteered at a community clinic in downtown Pittsburgh, but he had never had any intention of signing up as a volunteer for the Snow Mountain courtesy patrol. He had only agreed to fill in for Metcalf because he wouldn’t have to ski anything more difficult than the beginner slope.

His world was good now. He was a successful doctor, he was dating, and he had a great place to live. He’d learned to deal with his loss. If it hadn’t been for Metcalf getting his weekends messed up and his wife having a trip to her parents’ planned for their Christmas celebration, Kyle would never have caved and agreed to take his place. Metcalf knew Kyle’s skiing history, and if he’d declined it would have been hard to explain why he didn’t want to work at the resort. Sharing his fear he wouldn’t do. Metcalf had told the resort he had a little experience so they had agreed to give him only the easiest of slopes. With that understanding, Kyle had felt like he could make it through two days.

“Are you familiar with the mountain?” she continued as she looked back at the board.

“No.”

“Great.” She didn’t look pleased. She turned to face him again. “I’ll get someone to outfit you with a uniform. When I’m done here I’ll show you the ropes.” A slight grin formed on her lips.

If he hadn’t been so uptight about clicking on his skis again for the first time in ten years he might have found some humor in her pun. Beginner slopes were notorious for having rope pulls to get skiers up the mountain. Few appreciated that a rope pull was only a step better than walking up. Both methods could turn a beginner skier into a non-skier.

“Tiffani,” Baylie called. A woman who looked like the quintessential snow bunny turned toward them. “Could you show…?”

“Kyle,” he supplied.

“Kyle where to get a patrol jacket?”

“Sure.” Tiffani gave him a smile that brought back memories. The snow groupies had used to give him the same “I’m interested” looks when he’d been on the skiing circuit. He had to admit that his ego had enjoyed them.

He returned the smile but without the same wattage of warmth, then gave his attention to Baylie again. Her lips had thinned. She’d noticed his and Tiffani’s interplay. He shrugged. It didn’t matter to him what she thought.

“Meet me here as soon as you’re done. You have your own boots and skis?”

“In my truck.” He’d dug them out of the closet. He didn’t know why he hadn’t gotten rid of them long ago. After this weekend they’d go to the second-time-around sports store. With a nod of understanding he turned and followed the willowy Tiffani into a back room.

Baylie regarded the new guy’s wide shoulders for a second longer than she should have as he walked away. Something about his attitude said he wasn’t happy about her giving him orders. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but maybe it was the way he stood back from the crowd that had drawn her attention. He’d have to get over that. She ran the show as far as the courtesy patrol was concerned.

The man’s looks and bearing said he was used to being the center of attention. If she hadn’t been short of volunteers she might have questioned him further, but a warm body that could stand up on skis would be better than nothing on the slopes. Today she’d have to deal with the situation and keep a close eye on him. She had the idea that he wasn’t going to be her most agreeable volunteer. She liked her helpers to follow directions and not question her decisions. This one was already crossing ski poles with her.

Kyle wasn’t gone long before he returned in a red coat that made his dark features more pronounced. He was wearing ski boots but the buckles remained unlatched, and he carried a pair of high-end skis that few could afford. Who was this guy?

Coming out from around the counter, Baylie lifted her jacket off a peg as she moved. Slipping an arm into one sleeve, she quickly looked behind her when the jacket lightened. Kyle was holding it up for her. She finished pulling it on, zipped it and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

A gentleman. His deep voice made her think of a warm fire after a cold, rainy day. Soothing. She shook her head to clear that unexpected thought. She didn’t need to be thinking about any man in that vein. That was one place she wasn’t going to go again. Losing Ben the way she had had been too hard. She had plenty of issues to handle without adding a surly volunteer to the mix. No matter how appealing he was. She wasn’t interested in being with anyone. Baylie started toward the outside door. The clomp of his boots on the cement floor matched hers as he followed.

On her way Baylie picked up a handheld radio off the dock station and gave it to him. “Here, you’ll need this.”

When his long fingers brushed hers, she let go, almost dropping the radio. But he grabbed it just in time. She drew in a breath of nervous relief. At the ski rack she lifted her skis from where they hung on the pegs. “So are you an intermediate or experienced skier?”

“I’m more than capable of skiing the bunny slope, if that’s what you want to know.”

Why the attitude? Was there some reason he wouldn’t give a straight answer about his abilities? Overly self-assured men weren’t her favorites. The guys in Iraq acted the same way every time they were sent on a mission. Especially Ben. It was as if he’d thought he was invincible. But he hadn’t been. “A direct answer to my question would be nice.”

“Then, yes, I’m experienced.”

“Good. the beginner slope is this way.” She put emphasis on “beginner”. “We do not call it the bunny slope.”

She didn’t miss the slight upturn of his mouth.

Baylie put her skis across her shoulder and started hiking up the low, snow-covered rise.

“By the way, why is it called ‘courtesy patrol’ instead of ‘ski patrol’?”

“Because we don’t want to be perceived as the policemen of the slopes. We are here to encourage courtesy and safety. Courtesy implies a kinder, gentler way of letting people enjoy the freedom of their vacation and holidays, with a reminder to be careful.”

“That makes sense. Nice idea. Unusual, but nice.”

Ahead of them at the top of the grade lay the ski school.

“So there isn’t a rope pull?” His voice held surprise.

Baylie smiled as she glanced at the short and slow ski lift off to their left. “No, we’re more advanced than that. We don’t believe in a ‘glove destroyer’, as we call it. Kids should learn to ride the lift. It’s just as important as learning to stand on skis.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he mumbled as his strong strides took him farther along the slope.

When they had walked far enough Baylie stopped and placed her skis on the snow. “We’ll ski down and ride up.”

“Don’t you mean ride up and ski down?”

“No. This is a reverse mountain. Here we stay on the top of the mountain and ski down. I know, at all the other resorts you stay at the bottom of the mountain and ride the lift up.” Shoving the toe of one boot into the binding, she pressed down on her heel until the click indicated her boot was secure. Hearing no movement from the man beside her, she looked in his direction.

His skis were butted into the snow, making them stand straight up beside him. A large hand, red from being exposed to the weather and white at the knuckles, held them upright. He’d made no move to put them on. He looked off over the landscape as if in a trance.

“Is there a problem?” Baylie followed his look, seeing nothing more than the beautiful countryside covered in white. She loved this place.

“No,” he said, almost too sharply. “I was just admiring the view.” He placed one ski on the ground carefully followed by the other then clamped his boot buckles closed.

With a quick slip and push she had her other ski snapped into place. Done, Baylie glanced at him again. She didn’t miss the small hesitation before he clicked his binding. In a smooth movement that showed his experience, his second ski went into place.

“Lead on,” he said.

She pushed off.