The holidays are when family comes together...
Ski patroller Aidan Wilde doesn’t get too festive during the holiday season. Not since his wife, Charmaine, fell to her death off Whistler Mountain on Christmas Eve six years ago. Though the whole town had gossiped about his failure to save Charmaine, Aidan has been able to hide the horrifying circumstances of that day from his daughter, Emily. Until Charmaine’s cousin, Nicola, returns home.
While digging up the truth and finding some unexpected answers, Nicola works her way into Emily’s heart and unexpectedly wins over Aidan, too. Might this single dad really be ready to let go of the past and give his daughter the one thing she really wants for Christmas—a mom?
“More,” Emily said sleepily. “I want to hear more.”
Nicola read on, relating Charmaine’s adventures, finishing with, “‘I miss you, Nic. Whistler isn’t the same without you. Lots of love, Charmaine.’”
Emily’s soft breathing was even and her eyes had shut. Nicola folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. She missed Charmaine, too. Her cousin had been witty and warm and fun. She’d dragged Nicola to parties and dances. They were embarrassing ordeals for a shy wallflower like her, but Charmaine always made sure some boy danced with her less popular cousin. If, in hindsight, her behavior seemed patronizing, Nicola knew Charmaine had meant well.
Nicola pulled the covers over her and Emily. In her sleep Emily wriggled closer. The girl’s small body snuggled against her sent a rush of tenderness through Nicola.
Poor Charmaine. She’ll never get to see her daughter grow up.
A Mom for Christmas
Joan Kilby
JOAN KILBY
enjoys drawing and painting as a hobby. However, between her writing, her husband and three almost grown children, going to the gym, cooking and walking her dog, Toby, she doesn’t have a lot of spare time to indulge her other interests. Instead, she lives vicariously through her characters. Joan also loves art galleries and every year makes a point of going to see the exhibition of the Archibald Prize finalists.
Gavin Reed of the Whistler-Blackcomb ski patrol was of invaluable assistance in researching this book. All errors are mine.
Contents
Chapter 1
Aidan Wilde scanned the snowy slope, alert for skiers in trouble. Below the ridge, Whistler Mountain glowed silvery-blue in the fading light on this December afternoon. Every mogul, every half-submerged outcropping of granite was as familiar to Aidan as the swooshing of his skis through the crisp snow.
The eerie quality of the shadowed cliff face called forth memories of Charmaine. The place she’d fallen from was higher, in the permanently closed area near the peak, but as Aidan made his descent thoughts of his late wife skirted the edge of his mind. Six years on he could still see the look of surprise and horror in her eyes as she went over the precipice.
Lights winked on along the chairlift above him, dispelling the shadows and bringing his mind back to the present. Charmaine was gone. He’d failed her then and he could do nothing for her now, except take care of their daughter, Emily, who’d been a tiny baby when her mother had died. Keeping Emily safe, watching her grow up healthy and strong, was all that mattered.
A sudden gust of wind whipped the tops of the snowdrifts into a flurry of white. Aidan increased his speed, looking forward to picking up Emily from her grandmother’s and going home to their log house on the shores of Alta Lake. He and Emily would eat beef stew slow-cooked in the Crock-Pot then sit in front of the fire and read fairy tales of beautiful princesses living in remote towers. With no one to disturb their tranquil happiness they could wear their happy faces and pretend all was right with the world.
Outside the alpine patrol hut Aidan removed his skis and put them into the ski rack. Stamping snow from his boots, he clumped inside the bump room where the men and women of the ski patrol congregated. Several patrollers were seated at wooden tables playing cards. Others, like his partner Frederik, had come in from patrol and were removing their outerwear at wooden benches around the room’s perimeter.
“You are first on the mountain in the morning and last off in the evening,” Frederik commented good-naturedly in his precise Swiss-German accent. With his shaved head and once-broken nose he could be intimidating to those who didn’t know his gentle side.
Aidan shrugged out of the red-and-gray ski patrol jacket with the white cross on the back. “Just doing my job.”
Truth was, he lived and breathed Whistler Mountain. He’d grown up in its protective shadow and as a man viewed the world from its soaring peak, first as a downhill racer and now in the ski patrol. If not for the grounding influence of Emily he might spend all his time up here.
“Aidan!” Rich Waller strode across the room, black Gore-Tex pants rustling. His thermal undershirt clung to a well-developed torso and his thinning blond hair was stuck to his scalp with perspiration. “Christy’s looking for the incident report on the tourist with the broken leg you transported off the mountain this morning. Did you forget to log the information?”
Aidan glanced through the glass wall separating the bump room from the dispatcher’s office. Christy, seeing him look her way, tucked a long blond strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Aidan lifted a hand in greeting and turned back to Rich. “I didn’t forget. I just got busy.”
“Oh, okay.” Rich shrugged. “I was in the dispatch office when the call came in so I started it for you.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” Aidan said.
“I don’t mind. No trouble at all.” Rich smiled and walked off toward the coffee machine.
“Rich can be too helpful,” Frederik said in a dry undertone.
Aidan sank onto the bench beside Frederik, pulled off his ski boots and wriggled his cramped toes in their thick wool socks. “He means well.”