a genuine smile touched his lips as his gaze rested on her expression. ‘I hope you’ll like the next item on our agenda.’
‘Which is...?’
‘Sledging.’
‘For real?’
Excitement fizzed inside her and collided with a pang of emotion as a memory jolted her brain. Years and years ago she’d taken her siblings out into the snow. She’d carried Edie, who hadn’t been able to walk yet, Philippa had toddled beside her and Tom, aged just four, had raced ahead with a joyous whoop. They hadn’t gone far, just to a local park to watch the children sledge.
How she had yearned to have a go. But there had been no sledge, and she hadn’t wanted to draw attention to themselves. But it had still been a good day—they had made a snowman, thrown some snowballs, before Ruby had realised that there were some adults clearly wondering why they were unaccompanied and she’d quickly herded her siblings together and left.
‘Is that okay?’ A small frown touched Ethan’s face as he studied her expression and she did her best to erase the hint of wistfulness, the shadow of memory from her face.
‘It’s better than okay. I’ve never sledged before and I would absolutely love to.’
Ruby let the memory go with the silent hope that her siblings had had plenty of opportunity to sledge with their new family. Allowed the fizz of excitement to take ascendancy.
Minutes later the carriage drew to a halt and Ethan helped her alight. ‘Here we are. It’s a resort, but we have passes.’
They lingered for a moment to thank the driver and pat the horse, and then she turned and once again the scenery caused the breath to whoosh from her lungs. Snow glistened in the distant trees of the forest and crunched underfoot, thick and soft all at the same time—the way she had imagined stepping on clouds would be as a child.
They entered the resort and headed to the sledge hire desk.
The woman behind the counter smiled. ‘Would you like a paret, a disc or a toboggan?’
Ruby stared at the options. ‘I’ll go for a toboggan.’ On the basis that it looked the safest. The paret looked to be a mixture of a tricycle without wheels and a stool, and the disc looked as if it might well career round and round out of control. As that was her current mental state, there was no point adding a physical element.
The woman smiled. ‘I promise they are all safe, mademoiselle. They are designed to be safe for children as well as adults.’
‘I’ll try the paret,’ Ethan said.
Ruby narrowed her eyes. ‘Show-off.’
That garnered a smile. ‘Think of it as research. It’s occurred to me that I could offer moonlit paret sledging as a part of a holiday package.’
They exited the building and she inhaled the tang of snow and pine, absorbed the bustle of people and the sound of laughter. Took courage from the happy vibe.
Until they reached the top of the slope.
‘Um...’ Ruby peered over the edge.
Suddenly the snow was reminiscent of clouds only in the way that if you tried to walk on a cloud you would plummet downwards. The ground was a turreted mass of white, under which surely there would lurk hidden dangers.
‘You worried?’
Daft. She was being daft. This was an official slope, suitable for tiny kids. All she needed to do was look around again and observe them.
Her heart gave a sudden thump. Just a few feet away a mother with a baby in a sling helped two children get onto a sledge. A dark-haired boy and a younger little girl with blonde curls. The world seemed to fall into slow motion and for an absurd second she nearly ran towards them—until common sense drummed its beat.
That wasn’t Tom and Philippa. Tom would be twenty now, and Philippa nineteen. Even if they were here she wouldn’t recognise them. They were adults.
For a second, loss shredded her insides.
‘Ruby?’ Ethan’s rich voice held a question and a heap of concern.
For a mad minute she wanted to tell him the truth, in the hope that he could soothe the pain.
With muscle-aching effort she pulled herself together. Confiding in Ethan would only add to the intimacy she was trying to fight. In any case Ethan didn’t welcome emotional intensity; he hadn’t ten years before and he wouldn’t now.
‘I’m fine. Just chicken, I guess. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?’
‘No. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. We’re going to the café.’
‘I...’
‘No arguments. First rule of snow sport. You don’t do it unless you’re focused.’
Maybe he was right. Either way he wasn’t taking no for an answer and willy-nilly Ruby followed him towards the café.
* * *
Ethan held the café door open. The smell of coffee jumbled up with the aromas of vanilla and almond and Christmas spices. Carols filled the air with a choral hum—a festive backdrop to the chatter of families and the clink-clank of cutlery. Usually the scents would have triggered a smile, but Ruby seemed enmeshed in thought.
Even an almond croissant and hot chocolate didn’t bring more than a perfunctory smile to her face.
‘You want to talk about it?’ Even as he spoke the words he knew it was a foolhardy query. The invitation to confide, to share, was not one he would ever make as a rule. Panic threatened—an echo of a decade ago. He was letting her get too close. But how could he help it? When she looked to be in such pain, with her usual vividness drained? He wanted to help, to make it better for her.
If he had any sense he would never have let things get to this point—maybe he should have let history repeat itself and cut and run.
Chill, Ethan.
Time to remember that he was ten years older now, ten years wiser, and this time he would be able to control the situation. There could be no danger in an offer of support and it would be an impossibility to withhold that support.
‘If you want to talk I’m here.’
Her eyes met his with a hint of surprise, palpable hesitation, and a small determined shake of her head. ‘It’s Christmas. You’ve gone to all this trouble. I’m sorry to be a Debbie Downer.’
‘You aren’t. I promise. Ruby, we both know that Christmas can be an emotive time for people with difficult pasts. Talk to me. I know your childhood Christmases were grim. Maybe I can dilute some of your tainted memories.’
One more heartbeat of a pause and then she exhaled. Picked up the steaming mug of hot chocolate and cradled it, her eyes wide. ‘I guess for a moment out there the past arrived from nowhere and knocked me for a half-dozen. Those children on the sledge next to us... For an instant they reminded me of my younger
