Chapter 8 Cindy #2
She shrugged. “We feel sorry that you aren’t getting paid.”
“I’m not?” he asked with a sly smile. “Nic totally duped me.”
She laughed. “You will accept MJ’s culinary delights and be happy.”
Taking the tray from her, he took a deep inhale. “I’m already overpaid. Come on in,” he said, kicking the door wider and leaning his head toward the warmth of the cabin. “If I know your sister, there’s more than enough for two here.”
She hesitated, not sure what to do.
“Come on, Cin. Let’s catch up. I made a fire.”
She tapped the snow off her boots and slipped them off just inside the door, the bold aroma of fresh coffee mixing with the smoky pine in the fireplace.
His bed was made—sort of—and she could still see the imprint of his head on his pillow, reminding her that he always slept on his back. Always. He never turned all night, except to cuddle her.
Funny the things you know about your own husband.
He put the tray on the small two-top table near the kitchenette, grabbing a mug from a rack on the counter.
“Two sugars and no cream?” he asked.
“Nothing has changed.”
He poured the mug and grabbed two packets of sugar, putting them on the table and inviting her to sit down.
“Well, a lot of things have changed,” he said. “The ski shed’s been painted. The town has grown. And our daughter gets more beautiful and grown up every day.”
She smiled and met his gaze as she sat down. “That she does,” she agreed. “She told me skiing was, uh, challenging.”
“She’s still terrified.”
Cindy nodded, stirring in the sugar. “The fact that you got her out there at all was a shocker to me.”
“It was part of our deal—for me to come, I mean.”
Her heart dropped a little. “You needed to make a deal?”
“I’d have come without a deal,” he said as he took the warming dome off the waffles and made the appropriate cooing sounds at the sight and smell of MJ’s masterpiece breakfast. “I wanted to help. I thought she could conquer that fear and ski again. Now, I’m not so sure.”
Cindy sighed, sipping the hot coffee and looking at the crackling fire.
Jack poured some syrup over the waffles and lifted his fork, offering it to her. “Share?”
The intimate gesture made her heart flip. “I’m good, thanks. I wanted to talk about the sleigh rides,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as tense as she felt. “I’m getting inquiries.”
“Let’s get them up and running,” he said, taking a bite. “And deliver that Snowberry magic.”
She lifted the hot coffee and blew on the steam gently. “You think you can bring it back?”
“Hey.” He leaned back in the chair and ran a hand over his silver temple.
“I might be ten years older and a bit more gray than the last time I did a Snowberry sleigh ride, but I can hold the reins, handle the hills, and take everyone’s breath away.
Benny found the old carriage driver outfit, too, which always…
slays.” He winked as he took a bite. “Sorry,” he added with his mouth full.
She tried to laugh, but she just sat like a fool drinking in the sight of him and getting a little tipsy from it.
“You okay, Cindy?” he asked after he swallowed and dabbed his mouth with a napkin as if he might have dribbled syrup.
She had to get it together around him, so she slid right to her happy place: work.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve spent the morning wrestling with finances and, I can confirm, we’re on shaky ground. I’m hoping the sleigh rides will be enough to get our December bookings increased, but…who knows about next year? And the year after that? I just can’t see a good way out.”
Jack winced as he cut into the waffle. “I hate that it got this bad.”
“It’s tough these days, as you know.”
“I should have…” He sighed and looked away. “You know, I’m just going to say this, okay? I want to get it out there.”
Her heart stuttered at the serious tone. “What’s that?”
“I’m sorry for leaving,” he said, turning back to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I put work over you and Nic and…us. I know why I did it, but that doesn’t make it right. I don’t know. I just want you to know I regret it every day and I believe I owe you an apology now that ten years has passed.”
Cindy searched his face, a little breathless, but so touched by the apology, remembering MJ’s words. He’d never made an official apology before, but then, they hadn’t had an acrimonious divorce. Just a painful one.
“We made the best decisions we could at the time,” she said, lowering her voice to a meaningful whisper. “Jack, I promise, I forgave you a long time ago.”
His dark eyes flickered. “You did?”
She nodded. “And the apology should go both ways. I’m sorry I threw in the towel so easily. I should have…waited it out. You did retire from ESPN eventually. I maybe should have…tried harder. And not put this place at the top of my priority list.”
His eyes shuttered. “God knows I’ve forgiven you for that long ago.”
God might know that, but Cindy hadn’t. The words were like a balm on her heart. “Obviously, since you gave up your Christmas to come here.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not much to give up. I’m…alone.”
She was more surprised by the tone than the love-life update.
“Unless you count Bertie,” he added with a chuckle. “But my mother has little time for me these days. She’s the most popular octogenarian at the retirement community. Now, she has a social life. I have…skiing in winter, hiking in summer, and…not a whole lot else.”
Her heart dipped. “Are you lonely, Jack?”
She expected a joke but got a sad smile.
“I’m fine, Cindy. It’s just not the life I pictured at sixty.
I travel, I do some consulting work and lessons, and I keep an eye on Bertie when she lets me.
But…” He swallowed. “Let’s just say, it’s nice to be back here and have a purpose.
And it’s really nice to see you looking so good and happy. ”
Did she look good and happy? “More like overworked and worried.”
He put his hand over hers, the touch warm and unexpectedly nice. “Then why don’t you take a sleigh ride with me today? I need to practice the trails. Is the creek running or frozen? Is the path to Aspen View open? I need to relearn my way around…Snowberry.”
Or around her?
The thought made her heart flip, or maybe that was the familiar and wonderful feeling of her husband’s touch.
“Well,” she finally said. “We need a horse.”
Jack looked surprised. “We have a horse. Nic took me to see Copper yesterday and he’s still a beauty. A little finicky, but he’s still got it. Probably.”
Cindy arched a dubious brow as she took a deep drink of coffee. “You want to test that theory? Nic is blinded by her love for the horse, but Copper is a total diva. He does not want to pull a sleigh.”
“He’s a horse. He was born for this.” Jack grinned, finishing up the plate of waffles and popping a few grapes in his mouth. “Come on, I’m ready to roll. Well, glide.”
“I’ll take your tray back while you dress. Meet you at the stable in ten minutes.”
MJ was not in the kitchen when Cindy dropped the tray off, so she headed straight back to the stable, meeting Jack coming from his cabin as she got to the oversized door. He wore jeans and boots, and a black puffer vest that was a stark contrast to the silver in his hair.
Smiling at her, he pushed the door open, and they stepped onto the hay-covered wooden floor, instantly greeted by Copper’s familiar neigh.
“Hey, boy,” Jack said softly as he approached the stall and met the horse’s big brown eyes.
“He’s a sweet guy,” Cindy said, watching Jack’s strong hands stroke Copper’s head. “Until he’s a drama king, which does happen.”
Jack smiled. “You going to let her call you a drama king, Copper-man?”
Copper flicked his ears and whinnied.
“I remember when we picked him for Nic,” Jack said, turning to her. “We went out to that farm in Herriman. We could see the copper mine on the western mountains and that’s how you picked the name.”
“I do remember.” She also remembered the tension in the car and the fact that they knew this horse was more than a replacement for Whistler.
He was a way to ease Nicole’s pain when they told her they were splitting up.
“That farm’s gone,” she said, not wanting to think of those dark days.
“Herriman is a beautiful upscale suburb of Salt Lake City now.”
“Ah, progress.” He reached into a bag next to the stall, grabbing a peppermint. “You ready to take a ride on the sleigh, big fella? I guess you do more work than ride, but I’ll go easy on you, I promise.”
He held out the peppermint that Copper slurped up, opening the latch to guide him out.
“You get him comfortable, Cin,” Jack said. “I’ll get the equipment.”
Copper was a little tense when Jack went to the storage cabinet and pulled out the harness, so Cindy walked him outside to the paddock, offering peppermints as they strolled.
A few minutes later, Jack had dragged everything to the sleigh and hustled back up the hill to the paddock.
Copper watched warily, but let them lead him out, down the path, and right to the sleigh that sat outside the ski shed. Jack had laid out the equipment. He walked ahead, picking up the padded collar and traces to buckle them together, inspecting each piece for wear.
“You remember how to do this?” Cindy asked as she and the horse got closer.
With each step, Copper’s hesitancy grew more obvious as he whinnied and kicked at the snow.
“I could do this in my sleep. Bring him closer?”
She tried but Copper stayed planted in place.
“Except Whistler was a bit more obedient,” Jack said, looping the bellyband. “Want to hook up the breeching?”
While Copper watched from a few feet away, they worked side by side, adjusting straps, brushing off snow, laughing as they fumbled with frozen buckles. They’d done this a million times together, Cindy thought, using muscle memory to finish the task.
Once everything was prepped, Jack began slipping the padded collar over Copper’s head. The horse resisted immediately, backing up.
“Don’t go all diva now,” Jack said. “This is your job.”
Copper let out a loud, indignant snort.
Cindy laughed and grabbed a peppermint from her coat pocket and offered it with a coaxing smile. “There you go, buddy.”
Copper took the mint—and then stepped on Jack’s boot.
“Ow! Okay, now it’s personal.”
It took several tries to get the collar on, and even longer to fasten the traces to the singletree. Copper refused to stand still. He nibbled Jack’s coat, tried to back away, and at one point nearly sat down.
Despite the cold, Jack wiped sweat from his brow. “He’s like a puppy. How much does Nicole baby this guy?”
“Quite a bit.” Cindy shook her head, patting the horse’s long, soft snout.
Finally, after what felt like a barnyard comedy routine, Copper stood mostly still in front of the sleigh, the harness secured. Jack stepped back to admire their work.
“We did it,” he said.
Cindy tilted her head. “Almost. You want to test the pull?”
Jack climbed up and took the reins. “Let’s see what you got, Copper.”
Copper took one tentative step forward, then stopped. Then another. Then—nothing.
“Come on, Cin.” Jack reached his hand down. “He might want a passenger.”
Doubtful of that, she put her foot on the runner and took his hand, letting him ease her up to the leather bench perched high behind Copper.
“All right, here we—”
Copper bolted sideways, making the sleigh lurch off-kilter in the snow. Jack shouted, Cindy shrieked and grabbed him, both of them nearly sliding out as the whole apparatus tipped dangerously close to its side.
Jack was completely pressed against her, his face an inch from hers, the pressure and warmth pinning her in place.
Moving meant risking tipping the sleigh completely, but they couldn’t stay like this forever…or could they?
“This horse,” he said softly into her ear, “has officially gotten the better of us.”
“Just pray he doesn’t take off, ’cause we’d be dead.”
His eyes shuttered as he let his cheek touch hers. “Not a bad way to go, Cinnie.”
The old nickname whispered so intimately had her as off kilter as the sleigh. “Jack.”
“Yeah.”
“We gotta get out of this sleigh.”
“Or we could…”
He didn’t finish, but held her gaze, so close she could see the flecks of gold in his dark chocolate eyes. She could even count his lashes, which were still thick and long and one of the many beautiful things about his face.
Wait a second. What was she doing? Falling for Jack Kessler? He’d been here two days and they were hanging off the side of the sleigh, about to kiss?
This had to—
“I can’t watch this anymore.” Nicole burst out the front door of the ski shed. “You two are killing me.”
They laughed and moved enough for Jack to lift his weight and free Cindy. Nicole marched over and pushed the sleigh back into position, giving them a strange look.
“What are you guys trying to do?”
Good question, Cindy thought. What were they trying to do? Rekindle a long-dead romance?
Just so she could wave goodbye to Jack yet again when he jetted off for Vermont?
No. No. No.
She managed to climb out of the sleigh and brush off her jacket and jeans, rooting for dignity.
“That horse is…not going to do the job,” she said. “Should I go start researching one we could board for the month of December?”
“No,” Nicole and Jack said the word at exactly the same time in their same tone of relentless determination.
“We’ll train him,” Jack said.
“I’ll work with him,” Nicole added. “The fact that you got him this far is huge.”
“And then we can take that ride, Cin,” Jack added.
Cindy took a step back, holding up her hands. “I’ve had enough brushes with, um, danger for one day. I’ll go back to the safety of my spreadsheets. Good luck, you two.”
With a quick smile and an awkward wave, she stepped away, trying not to rush into the sanctuary of her office. There, she could breathe again and talk herself out of these…feelings.
Jack was her weakness, and she couldn’t let herself get hurt again. That would just be foolish.