Snowbound with Her Hero. Rebecca Winters

mean.”

      “I don’t believe it.”

      “But she is. When I ask her if I can call you up, she says we have to wait till you call first because you’re too busy.”

      Raoul bit down hard. “I’ll have a talk with her about that.” It was his fault. By trying to distance himself from Crystal, he’d gone too far. But that was because of his unbrotherly feelings for her that he’d been trying to fight—without success.

      “She’ll get mad I told you.”

      “Does she really get mad?”

      After a pause Philippe said, “No, but she doesn’t smile.”

      Once long ago Crystal’s beautiful smile had been her trademark. “We like our mothers to smile, don’t we?” No matter how much pain everyone is in.

      Through the mirror he saw Philippe nod.

      When Raoul had watched her jet take off for Colorado, he’d felt like a dark shield had dropped over him. He hadn’t been able to imagine himself smiling again. “Who do you play with at school?”

      “Nobody.”

      His heart lurched. “Tell me the truth now.”

      Philippe’s little chin jutted out. “I am.”

      “What do you think is the problem?”

      “I heard a couple of the boys talking at recess. They said I’m a geek and have a stupid name.”

      Just now Philippe sounded like the brother who’d grown up with Raoul. When Eric got upset, he became obstinate and defensive. It took a lot to pull him out of it. “I bet your teacher is impressed you speak two languages. Those boys are just jealous.”

      “What does ‘jealous’ mean?”

      “They wish they could be as smart as you. But since they only speak English, they’re mad and say mean things.”

      “Oh.”

      By the time they reached the mountain home made of wood and glass, Raoul realized his nephew had been living in pain. Unfortunately, the news Raoul had brought meant there was more ahead.

      He stepped out of the car into a serious snowstorm and opened the back door for Philippe. “Come on. Let’s get you in the house.” He picked up his nephew and gave him another hug before carrying him up the front steps. On the way he saw Christmas lights twinkling in the window.

      Crystal had opened the door for them. The scent of pine wafted past him. Her mother, Liz, flew across the foyer to greet him with a strong hug. On dozens of occasions when Crystal’s parents had come to Chamonix, he’d had the opportunity to spend time with the charming blond woman.

      She invited him into the den, which was lined with family pictures, many of them showing Crystal winning ski races with her face rosy and glowing. Several showed her and Eric together, their arms around each other.

      This was the first time Raoul had been to Breckenridge, let alone to Crystal’s family home. Though Chamonix and Breckenridge were an ocean apart, being here made him realize how similar their two families’ upbringings had been.

      The room had been decked out for Christmas. Their tree with its many colored lights stood in front of the picture window just like the one at his parents’ home, except the decorations were different.

      A few days ago he and his brother-in-law, Bernard, who ran an engineering firm for a petroleum business in Chamonix, had set up a Christmas tree for Raoul’s mother in the salon. They’d strung it with the traditional white lights. Vivige had organized their children to put on the ornaments. When Christmas Eve came, the wax candles in the tree’s candle holders would be lighted after they returned from Mass.

      That is, if there was going to be a Christmas Eve this year not marred by more tragedy.

      He removed his coat. “You have a beautiful home, Liz,” he said at last, gravitating to the warmth coming from the grate fire.

      “Thank you. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

      After peeling off Philippe’s new coat, she asked her daughter to bring in the appetizers and drinks from the kitchen. “When Crystal called and told me you were on your way up to the house with Philippe, I phoned Todd. He’s thrilled you’ve come and he’s going to bring home pizza for us.”

      “Goody! That’s my favorite.” Philippe’s eyes lit on Raoul. “Do you want to see my new computer game? It’s upstairs in my room.”

      “Bien sûr.” He glanced at Crystal to get her permission. In the firelight her iridescent blue eyes looked haunted. “Is that all right?”

      “Of course.” She’d shed her parka and sat on the end of the couch in jeans and a cherry-colored crewneck sweater. The mold of her curves was the same, but since the last time he’d seen her taking some painkiller while she was waiting for their flight to be called, she’d had her hair cut. Instead of trailing down her back, her hair swished against her shoulders from a side part.

      There were other differences, too. As he got up from the chair to join Philippe, it dawned on him the high color he’d always associated with her complexion was missing. Once she’d become pregnant, she’d given up competition skiing. But looking at her right now, she couldn’t even have been doing much pleasure skiing these days. He wished to heaven he didn’t care.