she was brought up in Chicago by a mother who hated skiing!”
“All the more reason to catch up now. She’s an O’Neil. Not just her hair and her blue eyes, but the way she feels the snow. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Brenna gave up. Instead she focused on Jess, willing her to do well and not fall.
“She wants to ski. I don’t push her to do anything she isn’t already desperate to do. I tried holding her back last winter, and look where that got us.”
Brenna thought back to the night when Jess had disappeared, determined to impress her father by skiing the most difficult run in the resort. “That was a horrible night.”
“She’s next.” Tyler watched as Jess pushed through the start wand, gaining speed immediately.
“Her style is good.”
“Her hand is going back. She’s rotating her body and losing seconds at every gate.”
“She’s doing well.” Brenna winced as one of the gates, the poles that marked the course, swung back and hit Jess in the face. “It’s her first real winter season here, Tyler, and the season only started a few weeks ago.”
“Which means we have a lot of time to make up. She’s concentrating on the gates and not her turns.”
“Tyler.” A woman stepped up to him, her glossy red mouth curving into a smile. “I’m Anna. Patty Clarke’s mother.”
She couldn’t have picked a worse time to try and catch his attention.
Tyler didn’t spare her a glance. His eyes were on Jess. “She’s sliding into her turns. She’s putting too much weight on the inside ski early in the turn, and she needs a tighter line as she approaches the gate.”
“We can work on that. She’s a junior, Tyler, she doesn’t have the physical strength of a World Cup skier!”
“She’s losing time.”
Seeing that he wasn’t going to respond to Anna Clarke, Brenna intervened. “Patty is showing real promise, Anna.”
Patty’s mother ignored her and moved closer to Tyler.
Brenna’s face burned and for a moment she was fifteen again, on her own in school corridors that echoed with the laughter of other kids. Whenever she thought of school, the dominant memory was of being alone while all the other kids traveled in packs. Some days she’d been invisible, others she’d felt like a lone gazelle surrounded by a pack of hyenas. She’d preferred the invisible days, days when her tormentors left her alone, even though that loneliness had been a miserable state. Skipping school to meet Tyler had been the only bright spot in an otherwise gray period of her life.
She glanced briefly at Anna, wondering what it must be like to be that socially confident. To be so sure of a positive response to your overtures. Brenna had been knocked back so many times it had left her wary of putting herself out there.
She’d left school with her self-esteem shredded and even though she’d gradually woven it back together, she was aware of its intrinsic fragility. On the ski slope she was confident. With the people she knew and loved, she was confident. But when it came to people like Patty’s mother, she reverted to being an awkward teenager.
Anna showed no signs of awkwardness. If she’d experienced rejection in her life then it had left no scars. “I wondered if you’d be prepared to give her private lessons. I’d be there, too.”
Tyler watched as Jess finished the course and then turned his head, his handsome face blank of expression. If he noticed the smile Anna Clarke gave him, he didn’t respond. “If she’s on the school team, she’ll be at training sessions on Fridays. I’ll be coaching some of those.”
“I saw the new brochure online, and it said that you were available for one-to-ones.” The husky tone of her voice implied she was interested in more than Tyler’s expertise on the snow.
“Expert skiers only, and then only on a case-by-case basis.”
“Who decides who you take?”
Tyler stared down into those eyes, apparently unaffected by the liberal application of mascara. “Brenna.” His voice was silk over layers of steel. “If she thinks a skier shows exceptional talent, then I’ll coach them. You’ll have to talk to her.”
Anna Clarke said nothing, but her color rose, and she said something to him in a low voice before skiing away.
Brenna’s heart was pounding. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re right. You should have done it.” There was an edge to his tone. “She was rude, and you let her get away with it.”
Her heart was bumping. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters, Brenna. You need to speak up. If you let a person step on you, they’ll do it again and again.”
“We’re surrounded by kids and parents. I didn’t want to get into a fight. It’s unprofessional.”
“We both know you wouldn’t fight even if your back was against the wall.”
Did he think she was pathetic? “You think I have no backbone.”
His gaze locked on hers. “Honey, I’ve seen you ski. You have more backbone than anyone I’ve met. You’ll ski a vertical slope without hesitation, but when it comes to people, especially people like Anna, when there’s a social situation that makes you uncomfortable, you shut down.”
“You’re saying I’m a coward.”
“No.” He frowned. “You’re not good at handling those sorts of people. But we’re going to change that.”
He’d never said anything like that before, and Brenna gave a breathless laugh. “You want me to get into a girl fight with Anna?”
“No. I’m going to teach you to be assertive.” He adjusted his glove. “Next time, instead of letting her snub you, you will say a few quiet words that demand she treat you with respect.”
“I’m not so great with words. I usually think of the right thing to say a week after the chance to say it has passed.”
“So we’ll think of it in advance. I have the perfect string of words to say to a woman like that.” He leaned closer, whispered in her ear and she gasped and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one could have overheard.
“No way would I ever say that.”
“I guarantee she’d never do it to you again if you did.”
Half laughing, half shocked, Brenna shook her head. “I don’t think she’s ever going to talk to me again anyway. You were pretty rude to her.”
“She was mean to you.” He said it simply. Then he tugged off his glove and curved his hand behind her head, forcing her to look at him. He was big. Protective. The strength in those fingers a direct contrast to the gentleness in
