Chapter 4
4
Beaver Creek, Colorado, USA
As the cabin crew settled into their seats for takeoff, Owen asked, “Where exactly do you live in Beaver Creek?”
“Village Road, in a shared apartment with three other girls,” I admitted. “One up from staff accommodation, but I can’t afford a place by myself. I have my own bedroom though, so I consider myself lucky. You?”
Owen paused. “I am in the process of changing my accommodation.”
Glancing away from the window and the snow-capped mountains below the plane, I looked at him quizzically.
“Although my family is not, my uncle is quite wealthy. He owned a canning factory and sold it in his thirties to a large conglomerate and made millions. Now he enjoys his life and his children will never need to work a day in their lives. He owns an apartment at Beaver Creek. I called him last night and asked if I could move there with a friend and rent his place. He said yes.”
“Wait, what? You are moving to Beaver?”
“I am. And unless you object, I kind of thought you might like to move in with me.”
My mouth dropped. “Really?”
“Of course. I am not sure I could sleep alone anymore.”
“If you had a family flat at Beaver, why didn’t you live there before?”
Owen shrugged. “I wanted to do things on my terms. I wanted to make my own way. My mother didn’t approve of me leaving school and heading out here to ski, so I took nothing from anyone. I paid rent and finished high school out here. But now, I feel like I have earned it.”
“You have earned the right to be judged for your own achievements,” I agreed. “But what about work?”
“They have already offered me a senior coaching position. Private lessons teaching rich people, but at least I get to be with the woman I love and live the life most people only dream of.”
“How did you get here?” I asked. “I mean, I know the basics, but what made you leave home and come here of all places? You were so young.”
“My family is from northern Michigan,” I nodded. I knew that part. “We had a tiny ski resort near my hometown, and after school, I would catch the bus there and practice. But when I was sixteen, my best friend died, literally in front of me.”
“How?”
“On a race course. It was a practice run. He was ahead of me, and I saw him drop. We all thought he had fallen, so we gave him a minute to pick himself up. By the time we realized something was seriously wrong, he was dead. He had an underlying heart condition that no one knew about. It just gave out. He was three months older than me.”
“Oh, honey. That must have traumatized you.”
“They say things come in threes. That was just the first. There is a sense of mortality that hits you when you see your best friend die, literally in front of you. Until something happens, all teenage boys think they are immortal. Then my father passed away from cancer, and my grandfather. All three of them died within six months. I felt I had nothing to live for, so I packed my van, told my mom, and left. It took me days to drive here, then I needed to find a job and somewhere to live. I slept in my van for weeks. A ski shop took me as a ski tech in the evenings, boot fittings, waxing skis, that sort of thing. He was my mentor and looked after me. Every day I got up early, trained and trained, dug my own courses, put out my own flags, and brought them in. Every day, no matter the weather, I trained, and then worked at night to feed myself. I entered races and started winning. I was an independent, not associated with any of the clubs, so the other guys turned their noses up at me. No one sponsored me and I didn’t have the best equipment. But I wanted it more, so I pushed myself. I won all the events I entered, even against the older guys. Soon, they couldn’t ignore me anymore. Finally, and probably a year later than they should have, they offered me my place on the team, and I have been working damned hard ever since to maintain it.”
“No wonder you want it more than anyone else. I guess that is why I do too. I know what my parents sacrificed for me.”
“But you were a race club kid?”
“I was, but I wasn’t. You think skiing is expensive in the US? Try Australia. There are few resorts, and with such a short season, it is a prohibitively expensive sport. My mother was a teacher, my father was a ski patroller. Dad is from Oregon. They met when Mum visited the US for a holiday. Love at first sight. They moved my brother and me from Sydney to a small ski town when I was six and Louis was four. Dad just couldn’t stay away from the snow. He completed his paramedic degree in Australia and as soon as he had finished, they moved. They both worked extra hours, Mum as a tutor and Dad took overtime to pay for my skiing. As soon as I was old enough, I took a job too. So I understand what you mean. I wasn’t a rich kid, but joining the race club in Australia was the only way to receive coaching since private coaches are not allowed. They scrimped and saved and sacrificed for me.”
“Does your brother ski too?”
“Chris does, but mountain biking was his thing. My poor parents spent their lives racing around the country in summer for him, and winter for me. All my family skied but until I left home, they never had the money to buy themselves new gear. I felt terrible about that.”
“Dedicated parents.”
“As were yours.”
“Yes, but skiing is an expensive sport. My mom had four kids, so mostly I did it myself. Got a part-time job at thirteen and worked to pay my way.”
“We aren’t so different,” I admitted.
“It is one of the many things I love most about you. You have no sense of entitlement. You don’t forget where you came from.”
“Are you sure you want to live together? I mean, won’t your mom mind? You said your family were conservative.”
“They are, but they also want me to be happy. I can’t imagine anything better than waking every morning beside those dangerous curves of yours.”
“Dangerous curves?”
“Every time I see you, I want to bury myself inside you,” he whispered, although everyone around us had headphones on and was paying no attention. “I want to make love to you every morning and every night. You are my everything, Sophie.”
His words took my breath away, and I couldn’t help but smile, knowing every day in my future contained him.