Lie, Lie Again - Stacy Wise Page 0,107

her leg and toppled over, but it wasn’t a big fall—more like she’d just decided to sit down for a moment. She pushed up and inched forward until her right leg was perpendicular to the mountain too. The powdery snow took up residence in the tops of her boots, chilling her legs through the thick wool socks.

Clenching her poles, she forced herself to remain calm as she started down again. She could barely see the sign for the next run ahead, but it was there, and that meant she was one step closer to ending this torture.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, she repeated to herself. Turn after turn, she crept down the mountain, each second she remained upright a breathtaking victory. She executed one more turn and heaved out a sigh. This was exhausting. Maybe she could just rocket down and hope for the best. It was snow, after all. What was the worst thing that could happen? She’d land face-first in the powder? It would certainly be faster, like ripping off a bandage.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked the universe for a sign. Three skiers whizzed by, causing her eyes to spring open. They were swishing along the hill, their bodies nimble, making it look easy. Fun, even. She looked down and noticed for the first time that the run swelled upward at the end, and beyond that was the small hill packed with tiny skiers that meant the bottom was near! A natural stop and then the end. Was that the sign she’d been hoping for?

Whatever the case, she couldn’t stay here all day. Pressing her chapped lips together, she pushed off and headed straight down. Wind whooshed in her face as she gathered speed. The trees were no longer individual entities but a blur of white and green. A sickening mix of fear and excitement coursed through her veins as she neared the upward slope.

“Slow down!” someone shouted as she sped past.

She startled and pressed hard into a snowplow as the rickety fence at the edge of the run seemed to race toward her. But her legs were nearly in a split position, and she couldn’t slow herself. There was no time to think. She forced herself to topple to the side and fall onto the snow. But the momentum dragged her toward the fence. The world around her was a blur of white. I’m not dying on this mountain! It was a fleeting thought, but it reassured her as she crashed into the fence, tumbling as though she were attempting a somersault.

And then the heart-stopping roller-coaster ride slammed to an abrupt halt.

As she lay in the snow, her mind worked fast, as though it’d been taken over by a trained medic.

Feeling in arms?

Check.

Legs?

Check.

Helmet?

In place.

Skis?

Gone.

She rolled to a sitting position. Her neck ached, and she pressed a gloved hand to it. It was then that she noticed the blood. The sticky red smeared across her glove and marred the pristine snow with garish drops.

A tall skier dressed in black slowed to a stop near her. He pulled up his goggles and looked down at her. “Are you okay? That was quite a fall.”

She pulled off her gloves and swiped a hand beneath her eyes. “I think so, but I must’ve cut my neck when I landed.”

He peered at her skin, amazingly stable on his narrow skis. “We’ve gotta get you down the mountain.” As if she were a pop-up attraction at an amusement park, two kids breezed to a stop next to her, followed by a woman in bright blue, who swished down to where Riki’s skis had landed. The children gathered Riki’s poles. “My family,” the man said. “I’m Brady, by the way.” He reached down to hoist her up by the arm.

“I’m Riki. Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem. Are you skiing with your family? Some friends?”

“Yeah, but they got ahead of me.”

He nodded and turned to his wife, who had lined Riki’s skis up next to her. “Thanks, hon. I’ll help her down. Why don’t you take the kids and start with lunch? I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

“Sure.” She looked to Riki and pulled a package of tissues from her jacket pocket. “Take these to press against your cut—at least for now. They’ll have bandages down at the lodge. Or I can alert ski patrol if you’d rather. I have an app on my phone for them.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather just go now. Getting hauled down by ski patrol would