teal-colored mohair scarf around her neck. She arranged the matching hat on her head and silently thanked her cousin Janie who had knitted the set.
Lift number two had become fully operational today and she was going to check it out before her meeting. She wanted everything to be perfect for Tate Addison. As not only project manager of Snowy Sky but founder and shareholder as well, she was used to doing things her way. She relished the freedom she’d had thus far in seeing her vision becoming a reality.
Hannah was fine with getting a “second opinion,” and yet, having the resort—her hard work, her dream, her baby, her second chance at achieving success—evaluated in this manner? Well, it was bound to be a little nerve-racking for anyone.
Hoisting a hip onto one of the many railings gracing the lodge’s massive front steps, she slid down to the frozen ground and then headed for her snow machine. She couldn’t help the welling of pride as she took in the tall T-shaped metal poles marching up the hillside. Snowy Sky wouldn’t be officially opening until next year, but enough had been accomplished that it was already looking like a real ski resort.
Tate Addison had recently retired from the sport of snowboarding with one of the longest and most successful careers of all time, and although he was several years older than her, she had seen him compete when she’d been on the professional skiing circuit.
She squelched a ping of jealousy; thinking of her own career cut short so cruelly still filled her with a painful longing, a yearning for the medals and accolades she’d been so close to achieving.
Jeez, Hannah, she told herself, bitter much? Mourning the past was most definitely not a part of the “postaccident healing plan” she and her sports therapist, Dr. Voss, had developed and that she had executed over the past few years.
Hers and Tate’s different backgrounds and experiences shouldn’t matter, though. When he looked at the big picture, as he’d been hired to do, everything would be fine. All she really needed to do was collect his stamp of approval. She would answer every one of his questions thoroughly and eloquently. Then, at the board meeting next week, he would inform them of what a great job she was doing, collect his fee and be gone.
Simple.
Hannah headed toward lift two and found Freddie there waiting for her in the control booth as she’d asked. Freddie was a hometown boy, an avid skier and one of the first employees she had hired.
“Freddie, I’m going to ride around one time to check things out and then on the second go-around I’ll radio you when to stop the lift, okay?”
“Awesome. Have fun. Um, I hate to bring this up right now because I know you’ve got this important meeting and all. But Park was in the rental shop this morning snooping around and telling me how to arrange everything. What’s up with that?”
She felt a surge of annoyance. Park Lowell was a shareholder, board member, snowboarder and all-around pain in Hannah’s neck. He also coveted her job and everyone knew it.
“Trying to impress Tate Addison, no doubt. I’ll talk to him.” And remind him who the project manager is, she added silently.
“I didn’t listen to him anyway. Just thought you’d want to know.”
“Definitely. I’m always interested in what Park is up to, especially where Snowy Sky is concerned.”
Freddie nodded. “Amen to that.”
* * *
TATE ARRIVED NEARLY two hours early for his meeting, wanting to inspect the resort’s progress thus far without any biased commentary from the project manager. He’d been using a snow machine Park Lowell had set him up with to scout things out when he noticed that one of the chairlifts was operating. He watched the lift smoothly glide along for a few minutes, admiring the triple-fixed grip chair units before he realized someone was riding on one of them.
Hmm, good timing, workers must be performing some maintenance or running a test. Nice to see construction appeared to be right on schedule or perhaps even a bit ahead of projections, an incredible feat for a project of this magnitude.
Suddenly the lift slowed and then halted completely. Movement caught his eye as the rider then slipped from the chair and sailed downward through the air. He felt his stomach fall right along with the rider, followed quickly by a genuine burst of fear when the person hit the ground and disappeared beneath the deep snow, a puff of powder drifting up to form a white cloud.
Tate hurriedly throttled up the snow machine and sped in that direction. A fall like that could be disastrous—deadly even. His heart hammered loudly in his head as possibilities surfaced, each one more gruesome than the last. He forced himself to focus on what he needed to do. Stopping the machine as he neared the location, he hopped off and moved quickly toward the spot. When he got close he dropped to the ground and crawled toward the indentation.
Calmly, but loudly he called out, “Hey, buddy, are you okay? Can you hear me? Say something if you can hear me?”
* * *
HANNAH’S BLISSFUL MOMENT was abruptly interrupted by a deep voice shouting at her. Was she okay? Of course she was okay. She had assumed the sound of the snow machine was Freddie coming to fetch her even though she’d asked him to wait for her call. But this wasn’t Freddie’s voice.
She opened her eyes and found herself face-to-face with a handsome and concerned-looking Tate Addison. She groaned. What terrible timing.
“Where does it hurt?”
Why was he shouting? “Nothing hurts,” she said flatly. He was going to think she was crazy. This was also a tad embarrassing. How could she explain?
She tried to distract him instead. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Miss, are you okay?” Voice even louder now as he enunciated very slowly, “Did you hit your head?”
Sitting up, she dusted snow from the front of her coat. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“I saw you fall.” He pointed up.
“I didn’t fall. I jumped.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s fun?” Hannah posed the question-answer with a sheepish grin.
It was true that she didn’t want the guy anywhere near her resort, but it was also true, she admitted, that it was cute how his mouth dipped down at the corners along with his brows.
She knew he was nice looking, but she hadn’t expected him to be so...
Stern, she finished the thought as he went on in a very serious tenor, “It’s fun to fall twenty feet into a pile of snow? That’s dangerous. Are you aware of what could happen if you got stuck or how about landing on something—a rock or a branch? Did you think of that? And what if you landed wrong and broke your neck, or worse?”
Hannah wasn’t sure what to make of his anxious tone. She supposed witnessing the “fall” had made him nervous, but she certainly wouldn’t have done it if she’d known he was here. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to be here for at least another hour or two, and why was he nosing around on his own?
In an attempt to reassure him, she
