was tearing him to pieces. She had every right to be mad at him. “I’m sorry, Tana.”
“Thank you.” He wasn’t used to this terse, clipped voice from her.
“If it helps, I can make sure she doesn’t attempt any more jumps. Maybe—”
“Not now.” She turned off the main road and into the parking area in front of her cottage.
“If you want to do fewer lessons for a while, I—” He was trying to find a win-win solution for Lindsey and Tana because one thing he knew for sure, Lindsey wouldn’t want to quit.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Finality rang in her tone. There would be no shrinking from the fact that Lindsey could have been injured because of him. And there was no way to rush this conversation—he’d have to wait.
Lindsey got out of the car and headed inside, not bothering to wait for help.
“I’m going to my room.” She crossed her arms over her chest, one hip jutting out. If Chase wasn’t so worried about her, it might have been funny—her small six-year-old frame, with such attitude. Lindsey stalked away, stopping only once to look back at them. Her eyes dared them to follow. She shut the door hard, not enough to call it a slam, but loud enough to let them know how she felt.
Chase didn’t want her out of sight, not exactly, but he desperately needed to hash this out with Tana. He took a deep breath. Never, not once in his life, had he ever felt stakes as high as these. It was a heavy weight to carry, being someone’s parent. He’d experienced a single, powerful jolt of fear out there on the ski slopes, but Tana had to deal with that kind of feeling every day. Chase struggled for the words to describe it to her—this shred of understanding he had now. Not a full understanding, of course, but—something.
“Tana...”
“Wait just a second, okay?” Tana slipped by him, kicking off her boots as she went down the hall to check on her daughter anyway.
If Tana wanted to stop ski lessons altogether, he wouldn’t blame her. He stepped out of his boots and wandered across the living room, waiting. He would do whatever it took to make Tana feel better about this, even if it meant ending the lessons. Anything.
10
Your safety is the most important thing to both of us. We needed to make sure you were all right. It’s important to be careful when you’re skiing. Tana tried out fifty different things to say to her daughter, but none of them seemed right. She’d been telling Lindsey to be careful all her life, and maybe that was the problem. Still, the instinct to shield her daughter from all possible pain was a powerful one. It didn’t want to be ignored.
Tana closed Lindsey’s door behind her and stepped on a jacket “Lindsey...” She bent to pick up the carelessly discarded coat, and her eyes followed a trail of snow clothes—pants, helmet, thick socks—all the way to her daughter’s twin-sized bed. She expected to find Lindsey glaring at her from the corner, but instead her daughter was curled up under her pink-and-purple comforter.
Tana crossed the room and leaned over Lindsey. Sure enough, she was fast asleep, her breathing deep with exhaustion. Lindsey’s leg hadn’t seemed to bother her when she walked into the house and to her room. And there were no other signs that Lindsey had been injured. Tomorrow her daughter might have to deal with extreme weakness in her bad leg, but only time would tell. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t dealt with before. Tana’s pulse slowed, relaxing. The grip of anxiety released her.
In the quiet of Lindsey’s room, she recalled Chase, strong and sexy, carrying the most important person in her life. He’d been so gentle with her. So unfazed by Lindsey’s arguments. And he hadn’t even hesitated for an instant when it was time to get into the car. He’d been by her side through it all. She took a deep breath, gathered up the rest of Lindsey’s snow things, and backed quietly out of the room.
Chase stood in the living area, the light from the picture window making him a manly silhouette. The line of his jaw became sharper as he watched her cross to the front closet. Her heart thudded, but it wasn’t out of fear.
When Lindsey’s clothes were put away, Tana joined Chase at the window. From here, the barely contained sorrow on his face was evident. He’d taken off his coat