8. Madeleine
MADELEINE
Sledding the Back Hill
Fresh snow · Flurries throughout the day
Supper: Chili · Cornbread · Peach & Arugula Salad
I’d spent most of the day in my cabin, working, but also avoiding Knox.
My plan was to remain there until supper to escape the sledding activity listed on the group calendar.
However, my bossy bestie was having none of it.
Ivy showed up at three in the afternoon, her usual bouncy self, looking adorable in a red snowsuit while making demands.
“Get your scrawny butt into sledding clothes,” Ivy said, with a devious glint in her eyes. “I’m calling the bride card.”
“You’re truly milking this,” I said.
“With everything I have,” Ivy said.
“For someone so small, you’re kind of dangerous.”
“Just get dressed. I’ll see you there.”
Ten minutes later, fully decked out in a ridiculously expensive snow outfit I’d bought for the trip, I stepped into the cold afternoon. I’d ended up with the fur-lined boots I’d seen at the Christmas mart, and they kept my toes toasty as I headed across the ranch toward the sounds of hollering.
I was late. Everyone else had paired off and were already sledding down the hill, yelling and laughing. I looked for Knox and found him standing by the only remaining sled—a large wooden toboggan, long enough for two. Actually, perfect for two.
I was beginning to suspect the universe had been bought off. Or maybe it was all Ivy. Either way, here I was again with Knox.
“Hartley,” I said.
“Hey, Madeleine. Nice boots. You look good.”
“Thanks.”
I’d come up the hill braced for the usual Knox Hartley treatment, the needling, the smirk, the little digs. But this afternoon he was subdued, glancing at me and then away, like I made him nervous. Which was beyond weird.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, as if it weren’t obvious he was here to sled.
“Ivy paired us up again,” Knox said. “You want to do it?”
“I’ve never actually sledded before.”
“Madeleine Price, you really need to do more than just work.”
“So everyone says.” I shrugged. “But I am who I am.”
He nodded, gaze still on me. “Yep, you sure are.”
“I’m not sure I want to go on that thing.” I gestured toward the sled. “What if we get hurt?”
“We’re not going to get hurt. Plus, you have me to cushion the fall, should there be one. Last time I checked, I’m at least twice as wide as you.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Come on now, get in here,” Knox said.
“Fine.” I climbed onto the toboggan and he slid in behind me, which I hadn’t fully thought through.
We were wrapped up as tight as a Christmas package, my back against his chest, his legs alongside mine, his arms coming around to grip the rope on either side of me. He was warm and smelled really good.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Not really, but let’s get this over with.”
He pushed off and then there was no more thinking, because we were flying, the wind stinging my cheeks.
I’d had no idea it would be so fun to speed down a hill in the cold with someone laughing behind you.
The sled hit a bump and we caught air and I heard myself shriek like a little girl.
Behind me Knox let out a whoop, as we kept going, the whole white world a blur now.
By the time we hit the bottom and spun out sideways into a bank of soft snow I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.
Then, we tipped. The sled went one way and we went the other, and I landed in the snow with Knox half over me, both of us tangled up, gasping. I looked up at him laughing above me and suddenly I couldn’t move.
“Fun, right?” he asked, grinning down at me. God, that grin. It changed his whole face.
“A bit, yeah.”
“Hearing you scream like a kid might be the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he said.
“It was that bump. I thought we were goners.”
He was still on top of me, making it acutely aware of every place our bodies touched, his weight against me, his breath on my mouth, his eyes gone dark and fixed on mine.
In this light, I spotted yellow flecks in his green eyes and the skinny scar on his cheek.
Before I knew what I was doing, I traced it with my mittened finger. “What happened?”
“An altercation. A guy and my sister. He had a knife.”
“It could have been your eye.”
“But it wasn’t.” His gaze seemed to move to my mouth and stay there.
Nervously, I licked my top lip.
I felt him swallow, his breath shallowing. “We should get up,” Knox said quietly.
“We should, yeah.”
“You’ll get cold if we don’t keep moving,” Knox said.
“I don’t feel cold now,” I said softly. “Not with you right here.”
“Can’t say as I do either.”
“Y’all need help, or are you just gonna lie there?”
We both startled at the sound of Rhett’s voice.
He was standing over us with Holly next to him.
Rhett’s grin told me he’d seen exactly what was going on here.
Knox rolled off me and was on his feet so fast I felt the cold rush into the space where he’d been.
He hauled me up by the hand. Neither of us looked at the other.
My heart was pumping like I’d run up the hill instead of sledding down it.
“Just a hard landing,” I said, flushing hot despite the frigid air.
“Y’all having fun?” Knox brushed snow off himself with a great deal more attention than the snow required.
“We sure are,” Rhett said and dragged Holly off toward the rope tow.
I heard Holly say, “Mind your own business.”
“I am, I am,” Rhett said.
Knox glanced down at his snow boots, clearly unsure what to say. So I took over like I always did.
“Let’s go again.”
His face lit up with another grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
We went again. And again. Whatever had just happened between us hummed under every race down and every trudge back up.
We stole glances and pretended we hadn’t.
His arms were tighter around my waist than was truly necessary, and I didn’t mind at all.
In fact, it was the most fun I’d had in longer than I could remember, but also a slow form of torture wondering what might have happened if Rhett and Holly hadn’t appeared.
Daylight had turned into twilight while we were climbing back up the hill for what I’d promised myself was the last run.
All at once, the bulb lights came on—strings of them, big round white bulbs that ran along the tree line and up both sides of the sledding hill.
The whole slope lit up soft and gold against the blue dusk.
We were most of the way up the hill, a little apart from the others, hauling the toboggan between us, when it happened. There was a patch where the sledders had worn the snow down to ice and Knox’s boot slid and his leg went out from under him. He came down hard and cursed.
I dropped down beside him. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m not sure.” He tried to stand. His face went white and he sat right back down in the snow. “Son of a—okay. It’s my ankle.”
Concern flooded me. “Don’t stand. Let me see. Where—here?” I took off my glove and gently put my hand into his boot. He winced but didn’t say anything. Even with his sock still on, I could feel the swelling. “Can you move it? Don’t be a guy, and just tell me the truth.”
“It’s not broke.” His jaw was tight. “Just twisted. I think anyway.”
“I’ll help you back to your cabin and then we’ll get some ice on it,” I said. “Luci can take a look to see what kind of damage you’ve done.”
He looked at me for a second, uncertainty moving behind his eyes. “Maybe one of the guys should help. I’m heavy.”
“Not too heavy for me.”
True to my word, I got him up, taking part of his weight at my side. His arm went heavy around my shoulders. Somehow I got him off that hill one slow step at a time. The others called out and I waved them off, shouting, “He’s fine, twisted his ankle, I’ve got him.”
I did have him, and I wasn’t handing him over to anybody.
His cabin felt warm after the physical effort to get him inside. I helped him to the bed and made him sit, hastily discarding my jacket and mittens, then knelt on the floor to ease his boot off.
He hissed. “That hurts,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry. Almost done.” I’d used the same voice with my little sister many times before. The kid was always getting herself into scrapes, and I was the one who made it all better.
His ankle had definitely swelled and was turning purple along the outside. Not broken. But a bad sprain.
I sprang into action, helping him lay on the bed with his injured ankle resting on a pillow. I filled a dish towel with ice from the freezer and pressed it against his ankle. With the other hand, I cradled his heel to hold it steady, his skin warm under my cold fingers.
“You don’t have to do this. I can do it myself.” His voice had gone rough.
“Let me help—and don’t make a fuss.”
“This is a whole new side of you,” he said.
“Don’t sound so surprised.” I adjusted the ice, not looking up at him. “Charlie’s skinned knees were my specialty.”
“Did you ever resent having to take care of her?”
“No way. She’s my angel. My whole reason for pushing myself so hard. Charlie and my mama. They’re mine and I’m theirs. No matter what.”
“Law school for Charlie. A house for your mom. I’d say you’re doing pretty well for all of you.
” He was staring at the ceiling, eyes open like he was watching a movie up there.
However, he must have sensed my gaze because he turned his head slightly to look at me.
“I’ve had you all wrong, Price. Way wrong. ”
“What do you mean?”
“Come lay beside me.” He patted the spot next to him.
“Um, are you sure that’s a good idea?” I could still feel the heat between us from the mountain. And it thrummed through me, every inch and every nerve on high alert, craving his touch.
“Let’s be brave,” he said softly.
“Yeah, okay.” I got up and went to the other side of the bed, shedding my boots before I lay down beside him.
He turned on his side, wincing.
I sat up to adjust the ice pack on his ankle, then returned, settling on my side so we were face to face.
“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” Knox asked.
“From time to time.”
“How come, all these years, you’ve never brought a man around?”
“No one’s ever been worthy of introducing to y’all.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “The guys are a rough crowd. Protective of you.”
“How come you never bring anyone around?”
“Same reason, I guess. The road doesn’t leave much time for romance. Sometimes I think the great love of my life are the boys in the band.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” I said.
“I wanted to say something about the other night—when you asked me to kiss you. You remember?”
I cringed and covered my eyes with my hand. “Yeah, I remember.”
“I thought maybe you took it as rejection, but that wasn’t it.”
“What was it then?”
“Respect. You and I may not always see eye to eye, but you have my respect. And that means I don’t kiss you when you’re at your most vulnerable. But I wanted you to know, I wanted to. Very badly.”
“I did take it as rejection.”
“Figured. You and me—we’re real quick to assume the worst in people.”
I thought about that for a second. He was right.
I most often mistrusted someone until they proved without a doubt that their intentions toward me or the situation were good.
It was a way to keep myself safe from hurt or betrayal.
“I guess that’s another reason I haven’t found anyone.
It takes me a long time to trust. Too long, probably.
Men usually don’t care to stay and work toward it, so I have no use for them. I don’t waste my time.”
“It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Keeping yourself safe from harm, twenty-four-seven. At least it is for me.” He swept his thumb over my cheek. “Maybe it’s okay to let our guard down every once in a while. For the right person.”
“Maybe.”
“Regarding that kiss—could I have a raincheck? If you still want one, that is.”
“I do,” I whispered.
He took my face in both his hands and looked at me one more second—giving me the time to tell him no—which I had no intention of doing.
His kiss was not at all similar to anything in my past. It was slow and sure, but passionate too, sending sparks and shivers from head to foot. I’d never felt anything quite like it. I wanted it to go on forever and ever.
The ice pack slid off his ankle onto the floor. Neither of us reached for it.