Love on the Lifts (12 page)

“I
can't believe Joe had a skiing accident,” Sam said, shaking his head, sitting beside me in the waiting room of the emergency clinic in Snow Angel Valley. He didn't sound disgusted. Simply stunned.

I'd never been as scared in my life as I was when I'd made my way over to Joe, sprawled beneath that tree. It had seemed to take forever for Joe to sit up and reassure me that he was fine.

“A little bruised maybe, but nothing serious.” He'd even chuckled.

But when he'd tried to stand, it was obvious that he wasn't fine. His leg couldn't bear any weight and it buckled beneath him. He'd even cursed harshly when he'd reached out to
a tree for support.

“Here, lean on me,” I'd said.

“I'm too heavy for you.”

“I'll call the first-aid station.”

“It's not that bad. I can make it down the slope. But, I need you to carry my skis.”

He'd tried hopping, stopping occasionally to lean against a tree and rest.

Someone must have seen us struggling to get him down the mountain, because eventually the mountain rescue team paramedics had arrived. They were dressed in red so they were clearly visible. When they'd put Joe on a stretcher, I'd felt sick to my stomach that I hadn't gone with my gut instinct and called them.

Guys can be so stubborn, always trying to appear so macho. Asking for directions or help simply isn't in their genetic makeup.

Then I pulled my cell phone from my jacket pocket and called Sam. He and Allie met us at the first-aid station. Although Joe couldn't walk, his leg didn't seem to be broken, and he'd assured the medics that he didn't need to be transported in an ambulance.

So Sam had driven him to the emergency clinic.

“I finally get to ride shotgun,” Joe had quipped from the front seat, his face ashen.

How could he crack jokes? Didn't he realize how serious this was? How guilty I felt or how worried I was?

Allie and I had been in the back. It wasn't until we got to the clinic that I remembered Leah. Right now, Allie was outside talking to her on her cell phone, letting her know what had happened, where we were, and what our immediate plans were. Not that any of us really knew. We only knew that cell phones weren't allowed in the emergency clinic. Their frequency signals affected heart monitors or something, which we figured out when the Nurse Ratchet doppelganger at the admittance desk gave Allie a stern look when she'd taken out her cell phone. Allie had actually gone pale. That look had sent her scurrying out the door to make the call.

Joe was off in an examination room somewhere. And I was sitting here with my brother, wondering if I should confess that it was my
fault because I hadn't been paying attention to what I was doing on the slopes. But confessing would result in a dressing down. I really wasn't in the mood to have my brother chew me out.

“It happened so fast,” I said, wondering if I sounded as guilty as I felt.

“People forget how dangerous skiing can be. It's like driving a car. You have to pay attention all the time.”

“Yeah,” I replied, the single word strangled.

“Joe's always so focused, I figured he was the last one who'd get distracted. I mean the guy finished the semester with a four-point-oh.”

I looked over at Sam.

He shrugged. “All A's.”

“What were your grades?” I asked, looking for something to distract me from my worries.

“I'm not telling.”

This was the most secretive winter break I'd ever had. Even I was keeping secrets now.

Sam reached over and put his arm around me, squeezing me close, one buddy to another. “It wasn't your fault, Kate. Don't worry, he'll be fine.”

Only he didn't look too fine when he finally hobbled out on crutches.

“Wrenched my knee,” he said, wincing.

“Bummer, dude,” Sam said.

Could Sam get any more unsympathetic? Had to be a guy thing.

“Does it hurt?” I asked stupidly.

“Like a bitch, but the doc gave me some pain medicine samples to get me through until I can get the prescription filled.”

In one of the hands clutching a crutch was dangling a white slip of paper. I snatched it away. “I'll get this filled for you.”

“Thanks.”

He looked over at Sam. “Sorry to have messed up your day.”

“Sorry you messed up your knee.”

“Look, if you can just get me to the condo, I'll be fine. Then you can get back out on the slopes.”

“We're not going back out on the slopes,” I said.

“Course you are. No sense in everyone's fun being ruined. Set me up on the couch in front of the TV and I'll be fine.”

Funny thing was, maybe he thought he was going to be fine, but I wasn't so sure about myself. I kept having this irrational urge to cry.

 

Just our luck, we couldn't find any
Law and Order
reruns, so on my way back from the pharmacy, I stopped by the Movies-4-Less video store and picked up the first three seasons of
24
plus a couple of seasons of
Buffy
.

I also stopped by A Novel Place to let Aunt Sue know what had happened.

“I'll bring over some special hot chocolate this evening,” she said.

“That would be great.”

By the time I got back to the condo, Sam, my oh-so-sensitive brother, and his equally sensitive girlfriend had headed back to the slopes. Sam going didn't surprise me, but I'd expected Allie to stay and help me take care of Joe, even though Joe insisted that I catch the shuttle back to the slopes and join them. A shuttle ran every half hour from the village to the mountains. I wasn't a big fan of shuttle buses, but more than that, I wasn't a big fan
of deserting someone in pain, especially when I was responsible for that pain.

“Look, really, I'm going to be fine,” Joe said. “Go have fun. We have less than two weeks left; then we're back to the real world of textbooks, essays, and exams.”

He was sitting back in the recliner, his foot propped up on a pillow to keep his leg elevated to reduce the swelling, a bag of ice on top of his knee, a sleepy look on his face. I guessed that Allie had taken care of getting his leg situated and the pain medicine the doctor gave him was kicking in.

“I'm not going to go have fun. I'm going to fix you some lunch.”

“Don't do that.” He was practically whining, which was so unlike Joe. He always gave the appearance of being so tough. “I won't be able to follow the rules. I won't be able to clean the kitchen. I'll get kicked out of the condo. I'll have to sleep in the snow.”

I stared at him. “You're kidding, right? You don't really think I'm going to make you clean the kitchen.”

“But the rules—”

“Forget the rules.”

He gave me this goofy grin that seemed to say, “Lighten up, Kate.” Yep, the pain medicine was starting to work.

“In that case”—he waved his arm—“have at it. I'll have double what you're having and some hot apple cider.”

I made us tuna fish–on-toast sandwiches. I set the plate in his lap and a bowl of chips on the table beside him, along with the hot cinnamon apple cider. Then I sat on the couch and nibbled on my own sandwich, but my mouth was dry, my throat thick.

On the TV, Jack Bauer was in deep trouble. Again.

“I think this is the best sandwich I've ever eaten,” Joe said.

I glanced over at him. “Do you want another one?”

“Nah, this'll do me.” He was studying me. “You don't have to wait on me, Kate.”

“I want to.”

“Why?”

I set my sandwich aside. I thought it was the worst I'd ever eaten. Probably because I
kept feeling like I was going to choke on it. My throat felt thick. And I was having a difficult time swallowing.

“It was my fault you got hurt.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“I lost my balance and skidded first.”

“Okay, I guess that makes you the winner then.”

“This isn't about winning.”

“It's not about blame, either. Look, I screwed up. It's no big deal. I'll be fine in a few days. So go back to the mountain.”

“I don't want to go to the mountain.” I came to my feet. “How many times do I have to say it? I don't want to go because—”

I stopped abruptly, biting back what I was about to say. I didn't want to go back to the mountain because Joe wasn't going to be there. And without Joe, where was the fun?

No, it was more than the fun. It was something else, something I couldn't quite describe. It was that frightening sensation that kept me awake at nights. The thought that Joe might mean a lot more to me than I was ready for.

Only I couldn't tell him all that. Didn't want to tell him all that. I'd made a fool of myself over Brad, and for all I knew, Joe had been keeping me company out of pity. He was with me because there was no one else.

“Because why?” he asked.

I snatched up his empty plate, grabbed mine. “I owe you,” I said. “Because it
was
my fault and you'll never convince me that it wasn't.”

I marched to the kitchen, dumped my sandwich down the disposal, and put the plates in the dishwasher. Then I did something really stupid.

I cried.

Cried because my heart had leaped into my throat when I'd seen him tumbling down the slope toward the trees, cried because I'd been terrified, cried because somehow I'd really started to care for him.

Cried because he didn't want me around.

I grabbed a dishtowel and wiped my tears. The last was just tough.

I was going to take care of Joe whether he wanted me to or not. I was going to take care
of him until he was better.

Whether he wanted it or not.

I'd made up my mind. Nothing was going to make me change it.

O
kay. I was a lousy Florence Nightingale.

“I should take your temperature,” I suggested, standing between Joe and the TV with a thermometer in my hand. I'd found a first-aid kit beneath the sink in the bathroom. It contained little plastic covers to put over the thermometer to make it sanitary.

Joe was not impressed. He shook his head. “I don't have the flu. I have a banged-up knee.”

“What if it gets infected? One of the first signs would be running a fever, and if it gets infected—”

“It's not going to get infected.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

I returned the thermometer to the first-aid
kit and put it back in the cabinet.

“I should make you some chicken soup,” I announced when I returned to the living room.

“I don't want chicken soup. I don't have a cold.”

I tapped my foot and studied him. I felt absolutely useless. “I'll get you some more ice for your leg.”

Before he could protest, I took the blue bag that the doctor had given him and dumped the icy water that was more ice than water. Okay, maybe I'd gone for changing the ice bag a bit too soon. I put in fresh ice, carried it back to the living room, and gently placed it over his bandage-wrapped knee.

“Kate, there's really nothing for you to do. You should head back to the slopes.”

I curled up on one end of the couch. “I'm not going to leave you alone.”

“I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“Look, by the time I catch the shuttle and get back to the mountain, it'll almost be time to turn around and come back home. It's too much energy.”

And I'd be alone. I had no interest in being alone.

“I guess you're right. Tomorrow, though, you go out with Sam.”

“We'll see.”

I was tired of battling. Tomorrow I'd be refreshed and could start anew. Because I wasn't going to leave him alone. No matter what he said.

He yawned. “The medicine is making me drowsy. I'm going to take a nap.”

“Okay.” I took the afghan that was lying across the back of the couch and draped it over him.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

He slowly shook his head. “Nope.”

His eyes drifted closed.

“Are you comfortable?” I asked.

“Except for the throbbing ache in my knee, I'm fine.”

A pang of guilt hit me.

He opened his eyes. “I didn't even think to ask how you were.”

“Me? I'm fine.”

“You took a spill, too.”

“I bruised my hip a little, but that's all.”

“We were both really lucky,” he said.

He closed his eyes.

We were lucky. I knew that. And it was sweet that he'd asked about me. The bruise on my hip was going to be about the size of an orange, but at least I was mobile.

“Should I turn off the TV?” I asked.

“Nah, you can watch it. The sound won't bother me.”

“But I rented the DVDs for you to watch.”

He opened his eyes again. “Thanks, I'll watch them later.”

“They didn't have any
Law and Order
DVDs or I would have gotten those.”

“What you got is great.”

“What's your favorite meal? I'll make it for supper.”

“Kate—”

“We'll have a party here tonight, so you're not alone.”

“I don't mind being alone.”

“I can go to A Novel Place—”

“Do that.”

“—and get you some books to read. What
do you like to read?”

“Science fiction.”

“I don't know much about science fiction.”

“Go talk with Paige.”

I looked at the door, looked back at Joe. He'd closed his eyes again. His breathing was even.

I crept over to the couch, sat down, and watched him.

It should have been boring. Like watching a rock or something.

But Joe wasn't boring. Not even when he was sleeping. I realized that I'd pretty much been bugging him, making a nuisance of myself. Worrying about him.

And the worrying about him had
me
worried.

When had I started liking him so much? When had he become my friend as much as he was Sam's? Maybe more so.

Why hadn't he tried to kiss me again?

Did I want him to kiss me again? Did I want him to make another deposit in the Kate-have-a-good-time fund?

Sitting there watching him, thinking about it, I decided that, yeah, I did.

 

Joe received an incredible amount of attention when everyone got home that evening. Since Leah hadn't seen him since his accident, she made him describe his plummet down the slope in gory detail. I held my breath, waiting for the moment when he revealed that it had been my fault, but he never did. It added to my guilt. I didn't want to call him a liar, but leaving out my part left him vulnerable, because Sam, in typical Sam fashion, was razzing Joe about being a klutz. Joe took it all with good humor. He was really something.

Allie was doing the things that I'd been doing: getting him something to drink, swapping out DVDs.

Aunt Sue and Paige came over. Aunt Sue I'd expected. Paige was a surprise. I didn't like seeing the way she coddled Joe, making him laugh with her exaggerated care, putting a pillow behind his head, rubbing his shoulders, offering to give him a bath.

A bath. I wanted to gag.

And I really liked Paige, so being irritated with her was a little unsettling. I wasn't jealous. Was I?

Then Brad and Cynthia arrived. Had someone broadcast an announcement on the local news station?

I was in the kitchen chopping up chicken for a chicken spaghetti casserole. Casseroles were one-dish wonders. Made great leftovers. And I decided that thinking about all the benefits of casseroles was a lot better than thinking about Paige flirting with poor Joe.

Allie was putting together a salad. Leah was mixing up some brownies. It was the brownies that the guys would ooh and aah over. Not that I cared if my efforts were barely appreciated.

I mean, Joe hadn't bothered to thank me once for all I'd done for him that afternoon. And he was a lousy patient. Most guys are from what I understand. But he became the worst after he woke up from his nap, like he was trying to drive me away.

Adjust the afghan, bring me some water, bring me some juice, hot chocolate, hot apple cider, turn up the TV, turn it down, change the DVD. Honestly, you'd think he was completely helpless.

Okay, so he was pretty helpless. I'd actually
spent some time in my bedroom moving around using only one leg, trying to raise my sympathy level when I got really frustrated with him. I couldn't complain about his demanding attitude because he
had
told me not to hang around. So my unhappiness with him was totally my fault. I didn't like that, either.

“Geez, are you trying to murder that chicken?” Leah asked.

I looked at the cutting board. The chopped chicken was pretty much annihilated.

“I like it finely chopped,” I said.

“Yeah, well, it's finely chopped.”

I scooped it into the casserole dish where spaghetti noodles, cheese, and peas were already waiting.

“Want me to chase Cynthia and Brad away?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I don't care that they're here.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really? You're totally over Brad?”

“Totally.”

“That's great! Ian has a friend—”

“No thanks.”

“But he's another Aussie ski instructor and—”

“Doesn't matter. I'll be busy taking care of Joe.”

Leah looked at me, her eyes blinking. “He's not helpless, you know.”

“Not completely, no. But he can't get around very easily. And he's definitely not going to be able to go to the slopes. I can't just leave him here alone to fend for himself.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because she likes him too much,” Allie said.

I jerked my attention to her.

She shrugged. “Don't you?”

I sorta felt like I was playing revolving door crush, leapfrogging from liking one of my brother's friends to the other. I mean, that should have been a strike against Joe: hanging out with my brother.

Of course, now one of my best friends was hanging
all over
my brother….

“I don't know what I feel,” I admitted. “I mean, I like him, sure. He's nice. And okay, I feel responsible for his present condition. I fell first. He fell trying not to run over me.”

“So you're going to spend time with him out of obligation?”

“I'm going to spend time with him because he needs me.”

I wasn't about to admit that maybe I needed him, too.