Page 19 of Christmas with the Elkin Billionaires

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need to get you somewhere stationary, so we can be sure you’re all right,” Chase added. It was also for his own peace of mind.

“Iamall right,” Lindsey complained. “I don’t have a broken leg. See? My knees are fine.” She swung her heavy ski boots in Chase’s arms, putting more pressure on his bad leg. “Put me down.”

“Relax, Linds.” Tana stuck close to Chase’s side, one hand on Lindsey’s arm. “We’re going home.”

“I don’twantto go home. I want to stay here! Put medown.” Lindsey swung her legs harder, with all her might. “Chase, I’m not done skiing.”

“For today, you are,” he answered. He’d have to call someone to go out and pick up Lindsey’s skis and poles and have them returned to the rental shed.

Tana and Lindsey argued back and forth all the way to Tana’s car. Chase focused on putting one foot in front of the other, while she kicked and pushed against him.

The farther they got from the ski hill, the redder Lindsey’s face got. “Comeon.I don’t want to go.” Clearly, she was overtired, although her alertness was more reassuring than anything. They weren’t dealing with a concussion.

Chase bent and put Lindsey in the backseat of the car while Tana hopped in the front and started the ignition. He reached for the seatbelt, but Lindsey batted him away.

“I can do it myself.” Her eyes met Chase’s with a ferocity he recognized from Tana. “Don’t touch it.” The girl’s face flushed, and she looked pointedly down at the belt buckle and slammed it home with a pout. Lindsey turned away from him, staring at the other window. She lifted her ski boots and kicked the back of her mom’s seat.

“Knock it off, Linds.” Tana’s voice stayed even, but he could tell she wasn’t happy. “And you need to apologize.”

“Sorry,” Lindsey said sullenly.

“All right,” he answered her evenly. Was this what it felt like to be a dad? To do the right thing, even when the other person involved put up a fuss? To put someone else’s safety ahead of everything else? It was a strange feeling, for sure. For as long as he could remember, he’d only worried about himself. And more recently, his grandmother. And now, Lindsey and Tana. The list was growing, and for once, he didn’t seem to mind.

Chase hopped into the passenger seat without a word. Her leg might not be okay, after all. Tana had warned him.

Tana drove with military precision, eyes locked on the road.

He couldn’t gauge her emotions, and her silence 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.

12

TANA

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 the jacket her daughter had thrown on the floor. “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.

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