Page 24 of The Duke's Brother

“Have you? Do you have pictures as children?”

“That hardly counts as together.”

“It does in my book. Our grandparents played together.”

Jorge shook his head. “She’s wanted me for years, followed me around before she made it big. You can’t compete with that, Tripp. But I give you points for trying. Let’s hope you can get some real points towards qualification, if that’s even why you’re here.”

Chapter 14

Jenneca dropped from her helicopter into a mound of powder. It rose up in great billowing clouds all around her. She felt wisps of snow brush by her face as she lifted her whole body and bounced into another turn. This was glorious. And the quiet seeped into her like a wondrous calm. Visibility was low with the snow so high, but she knew this mountain almost as well as the training runs.

She had taken the same drop today as her last one, when she’d run into Tripp and Charlie. She smiled thinking of their day on the snow. And she wished they were back at that place in their friendship. How had things gotten so weird between them? She knew how. As soon as she’d felt comfortable enough to let him know how she felt about him, to be a little closer physically, he had backed away. But he seemed to care. His eyes shone with such an obvious preference for her company. And they worked so well together. Her heart melted thinking of him with the mayor, holding onto his hand, promising to take care of Grevena.

Trees spotted the area in front of her. Since she had last skied this mountain, the snow seemed several feet higher. It felt almost otherworldly to be skiing near the tops of trees, little mini versions of themselves, the parts most people never saw because they were so high.

She blushed, mortified, thinking about her date with Jorge last night in his hotel room. Of course Tripp would be standing outside the elevator when it opened. She stopped to take a drink out of her canteen. Of all the luck. But his face when he saw her, told her he cared. Again, if she were to go by his reaction to her whenever she came across him, she would be certain of his feelings. And all he had done for her, for her bakery. She told herself those gestures could be explained away by any number of things, principally, his love for Torren and Grevena specifically. But then he had shown up at Jorge’s door. And she didn’t know what to do with that memory. But at other times he backed away, pushed her away, and acted as though he would rather she were not a part of his life.

But she was grateful today for his interference. She shivered, thinking of her date with Jorge. He started out friendly, funny, caring and kind and she had softened more towards him, thinking that perhaps they could spend some time together. But after dinner, he started talking about relaxing before dessert and pulled her close on the couch. As he ran his fingers through her hair he started going down memory lane and the more he talked about her and their experiences together she recognized a similar theme. Somehow she was always featured as the groupie, holding on to his tails, grasping onto his moments of fame.

He had been working up to some big romantic moment. She could tell, and she had been desperately trying to find ways to change the tone of their conversation. She scooted over several times to put space between them. And then someone knocked on the door.

She laughed out loud to the snow around her, thinking of the frustration on Jorge’s face when he saw Tripp through the peephole. Bravo Tripp!

Hours later, she approached the ridge and chose to go right with the safer, less steep terrain. The powder was deep again and she knew it wasn’t solidly packed underneath because she’d seen the avalanche roll through there just two weeks earlier. But she figured it would be safer than trying to do the steep narrow ledge off to the left.

Two turns down the right side and her skis hit something hard. They tipped up, to glide over the top of whatever it was, but she was blocked. She fell backwards, her legs feeling jarred at the impact. She tried to right herself and get her balance. The snow had opened up and cleared off what looked like several thick pine trees, laying across the way to her front, blocking her progress.

Not concerned yet, she switched into the snow shoes she carried in her back pack. Jabbing down through the snow with her poles, she tried to see just how much of the area was blocked by trees. Disheartened, she couldn’t find an open place to ski through. Then she searched the area to her front. All manner of debris and trees littered the place. She couldn’t see a clear or easy path through it, and she doubted the rest of the way down the mountain would be any better, the path of the avalanche was not an easy ski terrain.

She would have to take the path to the left. She knew she could cut over through the trees like she had with Tripp. Her heart pounded thinking about it. People lost their lives every year taking risks like this one. But she didn’t know what other choice she had. She supposed she could hike out in her snow shoes, but she had taken this very path just two weeks ago. She would be fine.

Once she reached the edge of the trees, she stared down at the drop below. Just like last time, she would fall for about ten feet and then begin her turns until she worked her way off the ridge. She breathed in one large breath and let it out slowly. She lived for jumps like this. So few ski resorts had any runs that ever posed a challenge for her. She felt her cheeks stretch as her grin spread across her face. Then she shouted to the forest. “Woo-hoo!!!” And she slipped off the ledge toward the snow below.

She hit, bending her knees as she sunk into the powder. She bounced to hit another turn and stay close to the mountain wall to her left, but the snow beneath her began to shift. A large chunk of it was moving, sliding off the edge to her right. She moved as close to the wall as she could so she wasn’t pulled off the edge with the snow rushing away, below her skis. She searched desperately for something to grab, a tree, a rock but the face was a sheer smooth rock wall. She kept jumping to her left as the snow fell off to her right. She had only five more feet before she was off the ledge and on to a larger, wide space. She was so close, she thought she had made it, but just as she reached the end of the ledge, her ski hit a rock, hard, and she tripped backwards. Her stomach jumped at the weightless feeling as she fell back onto the ridge and then rolled with the snow over the ledge. She rolled in the air, crouched her knees to her chest and prepared to hit the snow over two hundred feet below.

Chapter 15

“Ha!” Tripp pounded his fist in the air when he got back to his room. Jenneca had been happy to see him and sheleft Jorge.Who knows what she could have been talked into in the claws of Jorge, but she had left. And what did that mean? It meant, Tripp still had a shot.

And her eyes had been grateful. Her eyes. The first thing he had loved about Jenneca Faluna. Who knew that the sweet and fun bakery worker would turn out to be the most caring woman he had met, someone who put others first, who would risk her spot on the Olympic team for her mother and her family bakery. Who knew she was J.C. world renowned women’s skier, pursuing her dreams with a persistence and hope that he found so admirable. So much more than any of the girls who sat on the edge of his acquaintance, she far excelled any of them, and he felt lucky to know her.

But they were in this weird spot. She avoided his touch like it burned. And he knew it was his fault. Well, he would prove to her she meant more to him than all the groupies that surrounded the royals, more to him than any other girl he had ever known. Somehow he would help her see.

He didn’t know how, but for now, he could sleep with a smile because she had left that weasel Jorge. And there was always tomorrow at the training flags.

More serious at the thought of the flags, he wondered if he could bring his speed down. After a week up here, he would know if it were possible. His old coach was coming in tomorrow to meet him at the top and work him through some races, watch his form. A tiny flicker of hope told him there was no harm in trying.

The next morning, after the best sleep of the past two weeks, he rose early, snarfed down the breakfast they delivered, and rushed to the slopes. The ski shop had all his equipment primed and ready. “Good to see you again, Tripp.” The ski shop employee smiled and handed him his skis.

“These look fantastic. Let’s hope for some good times today.”

“They’ll post them up on the wall. I’ll be hoping too.”

Tripp smiled, warmed by good people. He jumped on the lift in the lobby, heading up the hill. Before it hit the edge of the hotel lobby, when it would burst up the hill, being one of the quickest lifts in the world, Jorge hopped on with him.

“What?”

“Hello, your highness.”

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