too sharply. “I was just admiring the view.” He placed one ski on the ground carefully followed by the other then clamped his boot buckles closed.
With a quick slip and push she had her other ski snapped into place. Done, Baylie glanced at him again. She didn’t miss the small hesitation before he clicked his binding. In a smooth movement that showed his experience, his second ski went into place.
“Lead on,” he said.
She pushed off.
Every nerve in Kyle’s being went as taut as a tightrope. If he didn’t get it together, he’d be the clown in the circus. With relief, he felt his muscles contract and release as he moved downhill. It was coming back. For him skiing again was like the old saying about it being like riding a bike.
He followed the snow pixie ahead of him with the slightest unsteady movement before he felt control returning to his body. Making a maneuver with confidence he didn’t entirely feel, he slid up beside her in the lift line.
“Got your ski legs, I see. You’ll need them. The beginner slope may be our easiest slope but it’s also our busiest.”
Had she noticed his reluctance? He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—let that happen. Something about her made him believe that she didn’t tolerate weakness in others, or in herself. He had no intention of letting his show. There could be no reason for questions. He looked her straight in the eyes.
“I’m aware of the type of skiers on the beginner slope. I can handle my assignment.”
“It’s my job to see that the resort visitors have a good time and are safe while doing it. I take it seriously, and you should too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a placatory tone that indicated he had no plan to yield to her position.
They slid into place to wait on their lift seat then took a chair when it came around.
Despite their difference in size, Baylie’s leg brushed his, from hip to knee. A zip of awareness ran along his thigh. Even through the thickness of their ski gear he was conscious of her feminine curves pressed against him. Her personality might be prickly, but there was nothing uncomfortable about her softness.
Baylie shifted as if trying to put space between them but the limited seating area brought her leg back against his. For that brief moment when she’d pulled away, coolness had filled the gap and was replaced by heat when her leg met his again.
She inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly. “You’ll be expected to patrol this area and help anyone who needs it. Please pay special attention to the adults. The kids seem to get how to ride a lift right off but the adults can take out a group of skiers waiting in line faster than an avalanche.”
Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle at that turn of phrase. He’d seen it happen. They grinned at each other. For once that serious look had left her face. Where she’d been noticeably wholesome looking before, with a smile she became strikingly attractive.
Their skis touched snow again. After one unsure wobble, he skied off beside her. Success. Baylie seemed quite deft on her skis, making him all the more conscious of his lack of confidence.
“You have your radio. If you need anything, call in and someone with be here to help.”
With those final words Kyle watched as she skied off down the gentle slope in the direction from which they’d come and proceeded without a pause over the side of the mountain. She seemed very confident both on the snow and in her job. At one time he had been about the latter, but not now. Taking a deep breath, he marshaled his determination to get along with the patrol leader and get through the next two days, before putting his skis up forever.
Baylie wasn’t certain about the new guy.
He’d looked unsure for a moment when they’d been putting on their skis but that expression had disappeared quickly as they’d skied to the lift. If his confident attitude meant anything then he thought he could do anything well. It was one thing to be independent, another to be reckless. That she knew firsthand, and wasn’t impressed by it. She’d make a point of checking on him regularly during the day. It was important for the courtesy-patrol volunteers to display self-assurance on the slopes, not superiority.
Around midday Baylie skied off the lift that stopped at the top of the mountain. She’d made her rounds a number of times and had once found the new guy helping a girl up and later stopping an experienced skier to instruct him not to ski so fast through the learner area.
This visit Baylie skied up beside him. “You seem to be catching on pretty quick.”
“Most of it is just common sense,” he said with a smile.
It was a nice smile that was bracketed by half-moon lines on each side of his mouth. She couldn’t see if it reached his eyes because of his sunglasses but she hoped it did.
“Is the entire patrol made up of volunteers?”
“Yes. Most of them just enjoy having a free day of skiing in exchange for their help. They are snow junkies glad to be on skis.”
“You are the only paid staff member?”
“I am. The management feels it makes for a friendlier resort for families to have the patrol staffed by volunteers. If the patrol consisted of all paid personnel they might think they were in authority over the skiers. The management sees us as a partner in fun. It is a subtle difference but a significant one.”
He grinned. “Interesting way to think of things. I can certainly see the marketing value.”
Anyway, this was more like it. She was glad to see that he seemed at ease. His smile alone was one that the resort patrons would like—especially the women.
“Enjoying yourself?” she asked.
“It hasn’t been bad. I’ve been plenty busy.”
“I told you so.” She grinned at him. “Someone will be along to relieve you so you can have lunch. Do you know where to go to find some?”
“No, but I brought mine with me, anyway.”
Had he made his own lunch, or did he have a significant other at home? For years her mother had packed her father’s lunchbox before he’d left for the mine. It didn’t matter. That information wasn’t her business.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.” She shifted her weight and started downhill.
“You know, I don’t need anyone checking up on me.”
With a swift shift of her hips she pulled up on the edge of her skis, stopping. “It’s my job to see how my volunteers are doing.”
“Is it your job to do so every hour on the hour?”
“It’s my job to do it as often as I deem necessary.”
“I thought you might just like watching me.”
Why, the egotistical man!
His grin said he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. She wasn’t used to anyone joking with her. More than one person, especially here lately, had told her that she was far too serious.
Before she could respond, the bang from a gun being fired in the distance made her jump. She shifted precariously, ski poles searching for ground to steady herself. It had been almost a year since the blast, and she still didn’t have control over her emotions when she heard a loud noise. Falling apart in front of her volunteers—and particularly this one—wasn’t something she wanted to do. Kyle gave her the impression he didn’t miss many details. She had to learn to handle her fear.
Before she recovered, a large hand wrapped around her upper arm and held her steady. The strength of the fingers was evident even through her bulky jacket.
“You okay?” Kyle’s voice held concern.
She had the feeling that from behind his dark glasses he was watching her closely. “Yeah.”