Chapter 6
JED
Son. You’ve got just over a week to put things right. Don’t let yourself get distracted. Remember, we’ve got skin in the game and all of it’s mine. You owe me. Boyd.
‘Bear!’ Jed shouted as the mongrel sniffed his way across the snow-covered ground and headed towards a small copse of fir trees in the opposite direction to where Jed’s first ski lesson would be located. His pet ignored him, preferring to keep to his intended path instead.
‘Fine,’ Jed muttered. He wasn’t concerned – the dog enjoyed exploring and was unlikely to get himself into mischief because he didn’t usually want to stray far.
Bear often came out on the slopes – not to Devil’s Run – but they’d head cross country and he’d ride in a small canine-sized backpack that had been made especially for him.
He wasn’t a very energetic dog, but he craved company and loved being outside.
Today Jed had decided to bring him to work – for some reason, he’d craved the connection too. So he’d grabbed him when he’d left the lodge at dawn, keen to avoid seeing Mairi again who – as far as he could tell – hadn’t taken his advice about leaving.
It had been hard seeing her again. Somehow knowing she was safe in Edinburgh – still married to him – had been easier to live with. Now she was here, asking for a divorce, and he couldn’t bring himself to even contemplate the idea. Jed’s stomach roiled.
He wasn’t going to agree to a divorce no matter how many times she asked.
Not while the fancy man from Edinburgh wanted to take their relationship to the next level.
Jed knew he hadn’t been a good husband – he’d abandoned Mairi, even if it had been for her own good.
But that didn’t mean he was going to leave her to the mercy of any eejit who took a shine to her.
Just look what had happened the last time.
He owed her that at least, and he was all about being noble these days.
Yeah right.
He winced and glared at the horizon. The sky was getting darker, and he knew a blizzard was predicted later.
If the weather got any worse, he might have to cut his ski lessons short.
He had four today and was starting with a beginners class.
His aunt Effie had mentioned there weren’t many clients booked on.
Jed didn’t mind – he liked the smaller groups.
It gave him a chance to get to know the guests properly – and if they were real novices, he could give them the individual attention they required.
He got a buzz from getting someone onto their skiing feet, watching them go from tentative to exhilarated – and if they were lucky, even fearless – within the space of a few hours.
It reminded him of how skiing used to make him feel – in those glorious years before it had been marred by failure and formed a wedge between him and what he wanted most.
‘Is it just you and me today?’ Jed heard someone shout and spun around hoping he’d imagined that he recognised the voice.
‘Mairi?’ He shook his head, but the five-foot-three vision standing in front of him didn’t clear.
She was wearing bright pink salopettes and a matching coat that he recognised from the spares the lodge loaned out to guests.
The outfit hugged her small frame, drawing attention to the perfect curves he’d explored in those few short days after they’d married, making his hormones fizz.
He cleared what felt like rocks from his throat. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come for a lesson.’ Mairi gave him her perkiest smile – but Jed could see fear in the curve of her mouth, in the way her large green eyes had stretched far wider than normal.
‘You can’t be serious.’ He glanced at her ski boots.
They looked serious – in fact they looked exactly like a pair his aunt owned.
Effie had been a regular skier until she’d put her back out two years earlier trying to pick up a stray Great Dane.
Was this some kind of a conspiracy they’d cooked up together? If so, why?
‘Oh, but I am.’ Mairi’s eyes met Jed’s and his chest thumped hard.
‘You hate skiing,’ he blurted, taking a step away, trying to suppress the inevitable smile she always managed to elicit from him from sliding out and exposing him.
He was practised at it – he’d had to hide his feelings from her and her big brother since she’d turned sixteen and stolen his heart.
‘Ever since you broke your ankle,’ he said gruffly.
‘When I was eleven, I know.’ A tiny crease appeared in the centre of her forehead confusing him.
What was she thinking? Once, Jed had known – had been able to read Mairi like a book.
It was disconcerting that he didn’t have a clue now.
It was like someone had blanked out all the pages leaving him blind.
He hated that, loathed how the necessary distance had stolen their closeness – or the possibility of it – and obliterated the future he’d dreamed he could have.
‘Perhaps I decided it’s past time I moved on. People change, some of us have to.’ She sounded upset.
Silence stretched between them when Jed didn’t respond, too shocked by the hurt he could see in Mairi’s expression. Wind howled around them, hurling snowflakes into their faces, making him want to reach out and wrap her under his arm.
The crease in Mairi’s small forehead dipped and she reached into one of the pockets of her coat and tugged out a brown envelope, looking unhappy. ‘Speaking of moving on, I’ve got a pen somewhere.’ She began to rummage in the other pocket.
‘I’m not signing them, Mairi,’ Jed said flatly. ‘So you might as well go back to the lodge. We both know you don’t want to be out here.’
She’d never shared his passion for the slopes.
It hadn’t bothered him, though – he’d had enough love for the sudden drops, the steep gradients, and bone-numbing fear of the ride for both of them.
In some ways, he hadn’t wanted to share the wild swirl of emotions, the moments when he’d felt like he could conquer the world.
Perhaps his inability to open himself up had been part of their problem?
Or his anyway – he could hardly blame Mairi for what had happened.
‘You’re afraid of skiing, remember,’ he said gently.
It was a low blow. Jed knew that and took the hit when her tight smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of genuine dismay.
He sucked in a breath, irritated by how much that bothered him.
He wasn’t cruel, but he didn’t want her here.
Didn’t want to be reminded of all the things he’d lost, of everything he’d sworn he couldn’t have.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, unable to stop himself. His instinct was to reach for her, to run his hands up and down her slim back. But he had to hold himself in check. He couldn’t touch her. If he did, he might never let go.
Jed watched as Mairi took in a long breath and looked away.
Her almond-shaped eyes glittered as she scoured the landscape silently.
He could tell she was trying to get her emotions back in check and decided to let her.
He wasn’t a total numpty. He was trying to do the right thing here.
Aiming to be fair. Instead, he studied Mairi, giving in to the desire to drink in every inch.
Her cheeks were flushed. Were they sharper now or was it just the cold?
He couldn’t decide, but the new look suited her – and she’d put some kind of shiny pink gloss on her delicate lips.
She’d never worn much make-up in the past. She was beautiful and didn’t need it.
Was this so she could make herself more desirable for the eejit she was dating? Was she dressing for him too?
Jed mashed his hands into fists fighting the overwhelming surge of jealousy. The need to grab her and run – to hide them both away in a cave until the feelings dissipated. But he was NOT going to do that.
‘Okay, fine,’ she said eventually, turning back to look at him. Her expression was focussed again, her eyes fixed and unreadable.
He watched, fascinated, as she slowly eased the envelope back into her pocket and zipped it before making a point of checking her watch. ‘Can we start our lesson now please?’ Jed felt a flutter of something that could have been admiration and was definitely desire.
‘Right,’ he said. Mairi wasn’t going to last five minutes anyway. He knew the moment she clipped on the skis that she’d probably slip over before deciding that calling his bluff was a bad idea. He’d just have to stay close enough to catch her so she didn’t get hurt.
‘Jed!’ another female voice suddenly called out, and when Jed turned, his stomach sank lower. He let out a long breath. Could today get any worse?
‘Bonnie…’ He watched as the chef who worked in the hotel situated about half a mile from Holly Berry Lodge came bounding up to join them, beaming.
‘Sorry I’m late. I called ahead and your aunt told me you wouldn’t mind.
’ She sounded out of breath, but she gave him her brightest smile and Jed knew hers at least was genuine.
‘Sometimes I struggle to get out of bed.’ She blinked, her cheeks flushing a little.
‘It was a late night in the restaurant. I heard you were in the bar for a while?’ She cocked her head, her expression intense as she stared at him.
He had gone for one quick drink. He’d had to clear his head after his run-in with Mairi.
He’d hoped a slug of whisky would help him sleep – but that hadn’t worked either.
‘You should have popped into the kitchen to say hello, I’d have sneaked you some haggis or something even better,’ she said huskily.
Jed heard Mairi let out a sharp breath and wondered if Quinn had mentioned Bonnie to her. They weren’t dating and never had. But he’d dropped her name into conversation a couple of times making sure his best friend thought they were seeing each other. That she mattered to him.