Page 10 of A Bear Ski Instructor Christmas

“You’re in Melinor,” Reba said. “Our village.”

“Melinor. I heard that name earlier, outside.”

“You passed out on the way up the mountain. You’d had barely anything to eat or drink.” Reba stepped closer. “It’s a miracle you survived at all.”

Rachel hadn’t even thought about that. She didn’t feel hungry or thirsty anymore. Her best guess was that Elena had been feeding her while she was out.

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied. “I still have no idea where the heck I am. My plane crashed here.” She frowned as another memory settled in her mind. “This…is Frost Mountain?”

Reba nodded.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

The older woman flashed her a warm smile. “There’s a lot you don’t know yet, dear. Perhaps Elena could give you a tour of the village and tell you everything you need to know. You could use some time outside, stretch your legs for a bit.”

The prospect of walking through the snow outside with nothing but her jacket to protect her from the cold didn’t exactly appeal to Rachel, but what reluctance she felt was immediately dispelled by the possibility of bumping into Michael again. Her heart suddenly racing inside her chest, she nodded. “I’d like that.”

Elena looked like she’d just been asked to swallow a live toad. The woman seemed to have some problem with her, but Rachel had no idea what.

“I have…other responsibilities, Mother,” Elena said stiffly.

“Do you, now?”

“I do.”

Mother and daughter shared a look.

Finally, Reba sighed. “Of course. I’ll show you around, Rachel. Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure you’ll love this place.”

Something about the way the woman spoke told Rachel she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Uh…okay.”

She followed Reba out of the room and out of the cabin into the snow, immediately hugging her arms to her chest with a light shudder. It was brighter outside than Rachel had figured. For a few seconds, she stood in the snow and gazed around, her eyes widening in awe.

When Reba mentioned that they were in a village, Rachel had pictured a small, almost deserted place with a few old buildings,but Melinor was thrumming with life. Buildings of different shapes and sizes sat scattered across the edge of her vision, people of various ages sitting, walking, or running through the snow. The village looked far from modern, without roads or technology as far as she could see, but the realization that there were more people and buildings on this mountain than Rachel had figured was definitely shocking.

Rachel gave a start as a couple of children darted past her, giggling excitedly as they chased each other around the back of a building.

“Shall we?” Reba gestured ahead of them.

They walked through the snowy streets, Rachel’s gaze swiveling about. Villagers greeted Reba as they passed them, and the woman simply smiled and waved back. Rachel glanced at the woman. Out here, she looked somewhat older. In her mid-sixties, probably. A grey streak was visible through her dark locks.

Chief of the village. Rachel frowned. Something about this place felt…odd. She supposed it wasn’t unusual that she was feeling this way. Who were all these people, anyway? And why would anyone in their right mind choose to live on this mountain?

They weren’t human, most likely. She knew Michael wasn’t. If he was with these people, there was a chance they were also supernaturals.

A repeated banging to her left caught her attention. The sound was coming from a low building not far away. The door sat ajar, and inside, she caught sight of two men hunched over some wood, working furiously. One of them turned slightly, and she spotted his face.

“Michael?” Her heart jackhammering in her ribcage, Rachel started to head for the building, but Reba took her arm. For a woman her age, she had a rather strong grip.

“Not now,” Reba told her, shaking her head.

“But that’s…”

“I heard about what happened,” the woman said. “Michael himself told me. He says you know him somehow, but he doesn’t remember you. He has no idea who you are.”

Her words struck Rachel like a sucker punch to the groin. “He…doesn’t remember me?”

Somehow, she knew Reba was telling the truth. It was the only other explanation as to why he’d seemed so confused when she kissed and slapped him. Michael had no memory of her. Something must have happened to him.

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