Chapter 5
5
ROSS
It was quiet in the woods, and while multicoloured lights twinkled prettily on the roofs of the cabins, the buildings were unusually dark inside. Ross skidded the snowmobile to a stop and took a moment to study the trees, squinting through the snowflakes falling from the sky as they played Whac-A-Mole with his eyelids. A few metres ahead, he spotted the spruce he guessed Connell had been concerned about. One of the thick higher branches was swaying at an odd angle and Ross suspected if it got caught in a gust, it might go flying. If he could get up to it now, it would probably be safest to either strap, trim or chop it off.
‘Moose, Snowball, stay close!’ Ross ordered, climbing off the vehicle. He heard them scamper behind as he followed the narrow track towards the tree so he could get a better look. As he approached, he noticed there were lights glowing inside Snowman Chalet. Was Innes Gibson, the resort’s housekeeper, getting it ready for guests? A robin landed directly in his path and immediately flew off as Moose sprinted forwards, barking excitedly, desperate to make friends.
‘Careful, boy,’ Ross said, leaning down to pat the dog’s glossy pelt as he whined and was quickly joined by Snowball who snuffled sympathetically at his face. As Ross stood, he noticed the door to Snowman Chalet swing open and a woman with long straight hair the colour of midnight peered out. Was someone staying in the cabin? Was it the journalist Connell had just told him about?
‘Is anybody there?’ She gripped the edge of the door as if intending to somehow use it as a weapon.
Usually Ross would have seen the appearance of a stranger as a sign that he needed to beat a hasty exit, but there was something in her voice – a wobble – that made him pause.
‘I’m just checking on a tree, I work for the resort, nothing to worry about,’ he shouted over the wind. ‘Stay inside, I’ll be out of your way soon.’ He tracked closer to the spruce as Moose and Snowball scampered towards the cabin and this time he heard the slam of a door – and guessed the woman had taken his advice.
Obviously unimpressed that the visitor didn’t want to play with them, the animals detoured and went charging into the woods. Ross continued walking until he was under the spruce – then he glanced up to get a better look. Could he climb onto some of the lower branches to get to the problem one? He was carrying tools in the snowmobile and had a small hacksaw and some ropes in there somewhere.
When he glanced back at his vehicle, he saw the door to the cabin was open again and this time the woman strode out. She was dressed in a silky green coat and red boots that were more suited to a night on the town than a snowstorm. When she started to slip on the decking, Ross heaved in an irritated breath – hopefully he wasn’t going to spend the next hour strapping up a broken arm or leg.
‘You should stay inside!’ Ross yelled, letting out a regretful grunt when the woman righted herself and joined the narrow pathway at the bottom of the steps that would lead her to him. ‘I’m only going to be here a minute,’ he muttered, shaking his head and turning again when she didn’t so much as hesitate. He noticed she was slender, relatively short and had a musical sway to her hips that made something between his ribs unexpectedly perk up. He shook his head and hooked a foot onto one of the lower branches so he could raise himself. He’d get a better look at the damage before deciding what to do next. If he was lucky and worked quickly, the visitor would grow bored and he’d make it back home before he lost the light.
‘Sorry, I just— Do you work with Ross Ballentine?’ the woman shouted a few moments later from somewhere below. Ross heaved himself further up until he was nose to nose with the damaged limb.
‘Sometimes.’ Ross grimaced, eager to change the subject. If the journalist wanted to quiz him about what he did at the resort, she could do it some other time. Preferably in better weather and when Connell was around. ‘I do odd jobs for him,’ he shouted without looking at her, hoping she’d get the hint.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked after a pause.
‘There’s a branch here with a break in it. If it gets caught by a gust it might fall. You should move away from the area; you’d be much safer indoors. I won’t be long.’
Silence fell and Ross let out a relieved breath as he imagined he heard the pad of her footsteps and the sound of a cabin door being closed and locked.
‘How are you going to cut it without any tools?’ she suddenly called out.
Her voice was fainter, and Ross suspected she’d at least moved out of range. He momentarily shut his eyes and then started the careful climb back to the ground. When he arrived, she was still waiting – and it took him a full five seconds to breathe. The woman was beautiful; there wasn’t another word he could think of to describe her – and since much of his childhood had been spent escaping into books in Hawthorn Castle’s library, he usually had at least three words for everything.
But beautiful also seemed inadequate somehow. Her hair was glossy and straight. It sat just above her shoulders so even when she turned her head it barely moved, and it contrasted with her skin, which was ivory pale. Despite that, Ross had never seen so much colour in a face. Perhaps it was because of her eyes, which were vivid green and reminded him of the resort’s lochan in mid-summer – of that moment when the sun shone straight through the water and all he could think about was stripping off and diving in…
The woman suddenly cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around her torso, and Ross realised he’d been staring at her.
‘I’ve got tools to chop it – the branch I mean,’ he babbled like some kind of eejit teen, before dragging his eyes away. ‘I just need to go back to my snowmobile, but I can’t do it if you’re standing there,’ he added vaguely. He considered encouraging her to go back into her cabin again. But that was pointless. She hadn’t listened the last three times he’d asked.
‘I’m Ivy Heart – I’m staying here for the night. Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you look after all the trees?’ she asked, sticking out her arm and shoving a hand under his nose. She wasn’t wearing gloves and her fingers were almost puce.
Ross took them in his gloved hands and felt her squeeze. She looked into his eyes and he was suddenly glad he’d kept the scarf wrapped around his mouth because there was something unsettling and strangely affecting about her gaze.
‘Um, yes, sometimes. Good to meet you,’ Ross said stiffly, deliberately avoiding giving her his name, hoping she wouldn’t think that was strange. ‘Look, it’s getting really cold, you should go back to your cabin and I really ought to be getting back to mine.’ If he stayed any longer, he suspected he’d get pulled into a conversation about the resort. Maybe Ivy would ask if he was planning on going to the staff meal too? If Bonnibell found out they’d had a conversation, things could get awkward when he didn’t turn up.
‘What about the spruce?’ she asked, looking up. ‘I thought you said it might be dangerous?’
‘It’s not as bad as I thought,’ Ross lied.
‘Will it really be okay in this wind?’ Her forehead squeezed as she looked around.
‘It’ll be fine.’ Especially since he planned to return later to fix it when he knew Ivy would be eating at the lodge. It would be dark but he’d bring a head torch and it wouldn’t take long.
Ross pulled off his glove, whistled between his fingers, and heard a familiar bark and the thunder of paws and rustling in the undergrowth as Moose and Snowball came running. He turned as Ivy’s eyes widened as the dog and wild boar sprang into the open, hurtling towards them.
‘What is that?’ she squeaked, pointing a shaky finger at the brown bundle that was Snowball as he sprinted on his stubby legs, trying to keep up with his fluffy friend.
‘That’s Snowball. My wild boar – he won’t hurt you, he’s really very shy,’ Ross promised as Moose thundered past them, skidding on the path. But as the boar was about to pass too, Ivy tried to hop out of the way. Whether she was trying to avoid Snowball or hoped to stop him, Ross didn’t know.
‘No!’ she yelled as the full force of the speeding animal slammed her into Ross’s outstretched arms.
He had enough of his wits about him to grab her and hold on as they both went flying backwards before slamming unceremoniously into a nearby bramble bush. Then Ross found himself lying face upwards trying to remain still as a curvy bottom pressed into his crotch – and spikes from the plant he’d landed on punctured his torso and bum.
‘Ouch,’ he hissed as Ivy squeaked and wriggled before trying to climb off.
‘I’m so sorry. My hair,’ she yelped as she tilted her body to the side, landing on her hands and knees. ‘Ouch,’ she echoed him, trying to push herself up with the bare hand now pressed into a bed of thorns. At the same moment, she gripped a bunch of her hair with the other and Ross realised she’d got badly tangled in a bramble branch. ‘I can’t get loose,’ she complained, jerking the strands as Ross carefully squatted beside her to see if he could help.
He dragged off one of his gloves and placed it under her palm, protecting it from the brambles, which were obviously digging in. ‘Stay still please,’ he ordered gently, trying to help untangle the mass of hair as Ivy continued to crouch low, unable to move. ‘It’s really stuck in there,’ he murmured, twisting the shrub and trying to get the hair loose. He eased closer to Ivy as he tried to see better. He could feel her breath on his cheek and smelled something floral through his scarf, felt the corresponding thump of his heartbeat as it shuddered and then sped up. ‘Um, it’s really stubborn and there’s a lot of hair caught in here, I’m not sure if I’ll get it free.’
He looked up and met Ivy’s leafy-green eyes. The sudden searing need to ease himself an inch closer and rip the scarf away so he could kiss her made his whole body freeze. They stared at one another for a few seconds and Ross was sure Ivy knew what he was thinking. So why wasn’t she pulling away? Instead, she seemed to tilt her chin, moving their heads a fraction closer. Blood surged through him and he swallowed before dragging his eyes from hers, trying to regain control.
‘Um, I could cut the bramble off at the root,’ he said roughly. ‘But?—’
‘I’m going to have a Rubus fruticosus hair accessory,’ Ivy joked. There was enough of a catch in her voice for Ross to wonder if the attraction he’d felt hadn’t been one way. She’d moved closer, hadn’t she? Had she wanted to kiss him too? She hesitated before taking in a long shuddery breath. ‘Just cut the hair off, but please be quick, I’m freezing,’ she said.
As Ross’s brain finally released itself from the grip of his raging hormones, he realised she’d used the Latin name for brambles. He wanted to ask why, but this wasn’t the time for conversation. Besides, did he really want to encourage her to talk more?
‘No problem.’ He sprang to his feet and sprinted to the snowmobile before digging around in his toolbox and running back. ‘Hold still.’ Ross bent beside Ivy again and cut the hair off at the spot where it had tangled. Then he helped her to her feet and watched as she frowned at the big knot of hair she’d left behind.
‘Does it look awful?’ she blinked, clasping at the left-over stump that remained of the sleek locks that framed her face.
‘Not awful,’ Ross lied. ‘But are you okay?’ he asked, spotting a bubble of blood as it dripped from her palm into the snow. ‘You’re hurt.’ The wild thump in Ross’s chest surprised him and he reached out to take her hand, examining the tears and scratches across the centre of her palm.
‘Oh,’ Ivy said, noticing the blood for the first time too. She stared at it and seemed to sway. ‘Sorry, I’m not good with injuries. Especially my own,’ she joked weakly.
‘We need to get you back to the cabin. Moose, Snowball, follow,’ Ross yelled. He took hold of her elbow and quickly turned and guided Ivy round, placing a hand around her waist so he could encourage her to move more quickly and also to ensure she didn’t fall if she passed out.
The door to her cabin wasn’t locked so he swung it open and signalled that she could step inside, and he then ordered his pets to wait for him on the decking. The room was sparkly, and a fire was burning in the grate. A Christmas tree, heavy with decorations, sat in the corner and the lights had all been switched on. The large bed at the far end of the room had been made up and there was a pile of leaflets on top of it alongside a bag that was mostly unpacked. Even from here, Ross could tell Ivy’s packing had been negligible – it didn’t look like she’d come prepared for snow or expected to venture outside for long. Ross quickly marched inside the en-suite and searched through the bathroom cabinet over the sink, hoping to find the first aid kit all the cabins at the resort contained. He silently cheered when he found it.
‘I’m really fine…’ Ivy insisted as he returned. ‘It’s just a scratch.’ She wandered to the large mirror positioned above a dresser and her hand shot to her hair. ‘Oh no. I look awful,’ she gasped.
‘It’s really not that bad,’ Ross lied again, coming to stand beside her.
‘Don’t you want to take your scarf off?’ Ivy asked, looking confused as she stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Ross pressed a hand over the scarf, surprised he was still wearing it – it was still covering his face, but he was reluctant to remove it. Somehow baring his nose and mouth would just make this moment feel more intimate. ‘I’m fine,’ he said roughly. ‘I’m still a little cold.’ He held her eyes when they met in the mirror. ‘You should sit so I can dress that wound.’ He forced himself to drag away his gaze, registering the rough grate in his voice. He really needed to leave before he did something stupid like try to kiss her.
‘I’m okay, honestly. Sure you can’t give me a haircut instead?’ Ivy joked, sinking onto the edge of the bed.
‘I specialise in trimming plants and trees so I’m not sure you’d thank me if I tried,’ Ross murmured as he began to clean and treat the wounds on her hands.
Ivy remained silent and Ross tried to ignore the heat fizzing through his limbs as he touched her skin. He didn’t look up even as he tied off the bandage, but he could feel Ivy’s breath on his face, knew she’d leaned closer as he’d tended to her.
He felt his whole body protest as he shot to his feet and stepped away from her. ‘You can probably take that off tomorrow,’ he advised.
‘You’ve done that before,’ Ivy said, catching his eye and giving him a half smile. Her cheeks were a little flushed and he was grateful she didn’t look so pale anymore. ‘Do you do all the first aid at the resort?’
‘No, but we’re all trained in it.’ Ross shoved everything back into the medical box. He could feel Ivy watching him and he knew it was past time to leave. She was having an unexpected effect on him. Perhaps it was because of the feelings that thinking about Miriam and Simon again had stirred up?
‘How long have you worked at the resort?’ Ivy asked, rising from the bed and stepping closer to him.
‘A while,’ Ross said, backing away. He went to pop the medical box back into the bathroom before glancing at the front door. He could still feel something coursing inside him, desires he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years, feelings he hadn’t known he was still capable of. ‘I should go,’ he said abruptly, nodding towards the door. ‘If those cuts get worse?—’
‘I’ll be sure to ask for you,’ Ivy said, blushing. ‘Only…’ She cocked her head, her face registering surprise. ‘You didn’t tell me your name.’
‘Oh, um…’ Ross muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he strode to the door. He looked up momentarily and spotted a sprig of mistletoe hanging above him. Something in his chest thudded and he quickly swung open the door.
‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that,’ Ivy shouted as Ross charged onto the decking and down the steps.
When Ross was halfway along the path that led to his snowmobile, he thought briefly about grabbing the hacksaw and sorting out the branch. But when he turned, Ivy was standing on the decking again still wearing her flimsy green coat – this time looking confused.
‘Thank you,’ she cried when she realised he was watching her. ‘What’s your name again?’
Ross patted a palm to his ear to indicate that he couldn’t hear, then he waved and turned away, wishing for the first time in a long time that he was brave enough to go back.