Page 9 of One More Chance
Chapter 5
THE OLD CHAIR SWAYEDas it chugged up the mountain.
“Beautiful day,” Logan said as he gazed up the mountain. Snow blew off the jagged peaks and sparkled magically in the sunlight.
Charlotte nodded but didn’t speak, hoping he would get the hint and stop with the damn small talk.
“Do you know if they’ve opened up the back bowl?” he asked. Out of Charlotte’s peripheral vision, she could see him looking at her. She pretended to study the top of the mountain.
“Not sure,” she muttered, her voice muffled by her neck warmer.
After all these years, Logan Brush was sitting next to her, the arms of their frozen jackets brushing against each other. Charlotte swore she could feel her heart pounding against the outer layer of her ski gear. She nestled into her neck warmer even further, her breath fogging up her goggles. She tried to take a few covert deep breaths to try and slow her racing heart.
“We got a foot of fresh snow last night. If the bowl is open, it’s going to be amazing. I heard ski patrol doing avalanche control with bombs this morning.”
Charlotte nodded. The only sound was the hum of the cable and the rumble of the rollers as the chair passed by one of its towers. The humming stopped and Charlotte looked up to see the cable above them roll back a couple of feet, the chair rocking side to side in the wind. Charlotte’s fear of the ancient chairlift cable snapping and her plunging to certain death into the cliffs below vividly coming to life.
“You okay?” Logan asked. His deep voice would’ve been comforting if it wasn’t, you know, his.
Charlotte gripped the safety bar with both of her mittened hands but was focused on the rocks below. Logan tapped her hand with his. “It’ll be okay. This old girl isn’t ready to call it a day just yet. I’ve been riding her for years and she hasn’t let me down yet.”
The innuendo wasn’t lost on Charlotte, but she wasn’t ready to play flirty girl with Logan.
“I’m fine. I’ve been on this chair before.” Her voice was muffled by her neck warmer, and she kept her gaze trained on the peak.
She breathed out a sigh of relief as she felt the chair shudder as it came back to life and they continued their slow as molasses trip up the mountain.
Logan turned to her “Are you a local?” he asked.
Couldn’t the guy take the hint? She didn’t want to talk to him. In reality, he was just being kind, but Charlotte found his constant attempts at small talk verging on pathetic. A man like him was probably used to wooing the panties off any woman that crossed his path. Hell, if Charlotte didn’t know who he was, she would be celebrating her singles line jackpot. In Chance Rapids, a retired pro hockey player carried the weight of an Oscar-winning actor, maybe even more.
Charlotte hated holding her tongue. She wasn’t the naïve high school girl from fifteen years ago. She realized that Billie Jo Bunkman would’ve kept quiet and hidden behind her goggles; she sat up taller, Charlotte O’Hare wouldn’t.
He was the one who left her waiting in a prom dress she had worked two jobs to pay for. Hell, she should turn and thank him. She wouldn’t have left Chance Rapids if she hadn’t been the laughingstock of the town. She wouldn’t have met her mentor and become the number one real estate broker in the city. If it wasn’t for Logan Brush, she wouldn’t be Charlotte.
As the lift crested the top of the mountain, Charlotte turned to face Logan. She took a deep breath and lifted her goggles, setting them on her helmet. Her eyes met his and she felt crisp and fierce, “I’m as local as they get.”
His mouth gaped and familiarity registered in his eyes, and, for the first time on the Jurassic chairlift ride, he seemed lost for words.
Charlotte put her goggles back on her face and lifted the safety bar. She pushed off with her poles and as she skied away, she turned, her dark ponytail blowing in the wind. “See you around, Logan Brush,” she yelled.
She didn’t look back. Charlotte felt a certain satisfaction at the stunned look on his face, but it took a few high speed turns down the mountain for her hands to stop shaking.
