Page 7 of The Duke's Brother

They were coming in to the drop off point and another skier beat them to it. The helicopter out to their front lowered to the top of a ridge, about ten feet above the snow, and a skier dropped out. Then the bird whipped away. He and Charlie watched as the person cut arcs in the snow, tearing up the powder.

The driver asked if they wanted to go to a different location. Another day Tripp might have been adamant about finding untouched snow, but this was his favorite place to ski off trail and one person’s cuts weren’t going to ruin that. “No, take us down.”

Charlie nodded, gave a thumbs up. He was the easiest going Baldeez brother, and Tripp held that title in the Valdez family. Someone had to be easy going in their royal and drama filled lives.

They clicked into their skis and then the doors were open. Wind whipped through them, shaking their clothes and searing across the sliver of skin underneath Tripp’s goggles. Tripp adjusted his neck wrap to cover up. He sat on the edge, waiting for the go from the driver. Miles of almost untouched snow lay out in front of him. Then he dropped. He leaned forward, angled his skis, and bent his knees. Landing in the powder’s cloud-like cushion felt wonderful. He whooped, watching snow roll up and over his thighs as he took wider turns to accommodate.

Charlie’s whoops behind him told him they were both down and he began cutting down the face in earnest. His favorite kind of run, steep, smooth, full of powder. The skier before him knew what he was doing. And skied the same track Tripp would have. As he rose and fell with each turn, he breathed in the bright of the blue sky that felt so close, the crisp smell of winter and pine, and the glorious freedom all around him.

They entered trees, pines stretching to the sky. The ground below him was white, but the powder was deceptive as far as depth and Tripp kept a sharp eye for rocks. Very few signs indicated the skier ahead of them had taken this path. Tripp almost forgot about him. An hour later, they were navigating one of the more difficult parts of the mountain, a narrow ravine, with ridges, filled with snow. As he clipped through the sharp fast turns, he caught a glimpse of a figure jumping into the air and then landing out of sight.

He took the next lip himself and crossed his skis before landing into the next turn. He worked his way out the bottom chute into an open, more gradual decline. He pulled up to a stop. Charlie sprayed snow beside him as he joined him.

“What a run! One of the best days I’ve ever had! This snow is incredible.”

Tripp nodded. “Tell me about it. And the best is coming.” His chin indicated a drop off to their right. Their slower flat area sat on a ridge with drop offs all around. The safest path lay off to the right. Plenty of drops and steep narrow ledges to thrill even the biggest adrenaline junkie, but it was better than taking the area to the left of the trees which included a section where if you got going too fast and didn’t think, you could ski right off a ledge, the snow hundreds of feet below.

A happy shoutstartled them both. Then a skier jumped off a rock outcropping above their heads, bits of snow dropped as the bottoms of his skis sailed over them and then landed in the snow far out to their front.

“Whoa!” Tripp was impressed. Excellent form. Then the skier continued without a word but made his way to the left.

“Watch out!” Tripp shouted.

The skier faltered and almost caught an edge and then went over the ridge. Charlie and Tripp rushed to the lip, searching for him. But he had moved out of sight.

“He looked like he knew what he was doing.”

“True. Should be fine.” They kicked up their skis, skiing back the way they’d come so they could go off the ridge at the right.

A forest filled the area to their left and rose up above them the longer they skied down. A sharp crack startled them and then a loud rumble above them. Avalanche. They skied up the side of the snow bank and started bouncing at a perpendicular climb up the side. Grabbing trees to help keep the momentum, they at last reached the top of the fifteen foot embankment and stood in the trees on the ridge, trying to see the path of the snow.

“It may not reach us.” Charlie pointed and Tripp followed his finger through the trees to a rumbling and rolling powdery pile of white that made its way towards them.

A spray of snow covered his boots and a high grunt surprised him. The third skier joined them.

Tripp pulled his goggles up onto his forehead. He must have cut over through the trees, no easy task from the other side.

“Tripp?” Her voice startled him. Thick dark curls escaped her hat. When she pulled her own goggles up onto her forehead, he smiled in surprise. “Jenneca?”

“J.C.!” Charlie raised a gloved hand to bump her fist which she returned.

“Ah, you’re J.C. The other member of the women’s team.”

She shrugged, “Hopeful member. Torn ACL.”

“It’s not slowing you down today.”

“No—”

The snow entered their valley, rumbling through just three feet below where they stood.

Jenneca let out a long breath. “You’re lucky.”

“We are?”

“Yes, when I heard the crack, I saw the direction of the snow so I high tailed it over here to make sure you were ok.”

Tripp wanted to feel smug, overconfident, but admiration won over pride. “You did that? You could have been skiing into a nightmare.” She could have seriously injured herself besides.

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