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She tore her gaze from his, smiled and laughed with the kids, and then slowly made her way to him. He watched every step. Her long legs looked great in black jeans and the heavy sweater she wore clung to a figure he remembered all too well.
Despite the snow covering the ground and the surrounding pines, the sun shone brilliantly out of a bright blue sky, making the air warm in spite of the snow. Lacy flipped her long blond braid over her shoulder to lie down the center of her back and never slowed her steps until she was right in front of him.
“Sam.”
“Lacy, we need to talk.”
“I already told you we have nothing to say to each other.”
She tried to brush past him, but he caught her arm in a firm grip and kept her at his side. Her gaze snapped to his hand and made her meaning clear. He didn’t care. If anything, he tightened his hold on her.
“Time to clear the air,” he said softly, mindful of the fact that there was a huge crowd ebbing and flowing around them.
“That’s funny coming from you,” she countered. “I don’t remember you wanting to talk two years ago. All I remember is seeing you walk away. Oh, yeah. And I remember divorce papers arriving two weeks later. You didn’t want to talk then. Why all of a sudden are you feeling chatty?”
He stared at her, a little stunned at her response. Not that it wasn’t justified; it was only that the Lacy he remembered never would have said any of it. She was always so controlled. So...soft.
“You’ve changed some,” he mused.
“If you mean I speak for myself now, then yes. I have changed. Enough that I don’t want to go back to who I was then—easily breakable.”
He clenched his jaw at the accusation that he had been the one to break her. Sam could admit that he’d handled everything badly two years ago, but if she was so damaged, how was she standing there glaring at him?
“Looks to me like you recovered nicely,” he pointed out.
“No thanks to you.” She glanced around, as if to make sure no one could overhear them.
“You’re right about that,” he acknowledged. “But we still have to talk.”
Staring into his eyes now, she said, “Because you say so? Sorry, Sam. Not how it works. You can’t disappear for two years, then drop back in and expect me to roll over and do whatever it is you want.”
Her voice was cool, and her eyes were anything but. He could see sparks of indignation in those blue depths that surprised him. The new attitude also came with a temper. But then, she had every right to be furious. She was still going to listen to him.
“Lacy,” he ground out, “I’m here now. We’ll have to see each other every day.”
“Not if I can help it,” she countered, and the flash in her eyes went bright.
Around them, the day went on. Couples walked hand in hand. Parents herded children and squeals of excitement sliced through the air. Up on the mountain, skiers in a rainbow of brightly colored parkas raced down the slopes.
Here, though, Sam was facing a challenge of a different kind. She’d been in his thoughts and dreams for two years. Soft, sweet, trusting. Yet this new side of Lacy appealed to him, too. He liked the fire sparking in her eyes, even if it was threatening to engulf him.
When she tugged to get free of his grip, he let her go, but his fingertips burned as if he’d been holding on to a live electrical wire. “Lacy, you work for me—”
“I work for your father,” she corrected.
“You work for the Wyatts,” he reminded her. “I’m a Wyatt.”
Her head snapped up and those furious blue eyes narrowed to slits. “And you’re the one Wyatt I want nothing to do with.”
“Lacy?”
Kristi’s voice came from right behind him and Sam bit back an oath. His sister had lousy timing was his first thought, then he realized that she was interrupting on purpose. As if riding to Lacy’s rescue.
“Hi, Kristi.” Lacy gave her a smile and blatantly ignored Sam’s presence. “You need something?”
“Actually, yeah.” Kristi gave her brother one long, hard look, then turned back to Lacy. “If you’re not busy, I’d like to go over some of the plans for next weekend’s End of Season ski party.”
“I’m not busy at all.” Lacy gave Sam a meaningful look. “We were done here, right?”
If he said no, he’d have two angry women to face. If he said yes, Lacy would believe that he was willing to step away from the confrontation they needed to have—which he wasn’t. Yeah, two years ago he’d walked away. But he was back now and they were both going to have to find a way to deal with it.
For however long he was here.
“For now,” he finally said, and saw the shimmer of relief in Lacy’s eyes. It would be short-lived, though, because the two of them weren’t finished.
After Lacy and Kristi left, Sam wandered the resort, familiarizing himself with it all. He could have drawn the place from memory—from the bunny runs to the slalom courses to the small snack shops. And yet, after being gone for two years, Sam was looking at the place through new eyes.
He’d been making some changes to the resort, beginning the expansion he’d once dreamed of, when Jack died. Then, like a light switch flipping off, his dreams for the place had winked out of existence. Sam frowned and stared up at the top of the mountain. There were other resorts in Utah. Big ones, small ones, each of them drawing away a slice of tourism skiing that Snow Vista should be able to claim.
While he looked around, his mind worked. They needed more cabins for guests. Maybe another inn, separate from the hotel. A restaurant at the summit. Something that offered more substantial fare than hot dogs and popcorn. And for serious skiers, they needed to open a run on the backside of the mountain where the slope was sheer and there were enough trees and jumps to make for a dangerous—and exciting—run.
God knew he had more than enough money to invest in Snow Vista. All it would take was his father’s approval, and why the hell wouldn’t he go for it? With work and some inventive publicity, Sam could turn Snow Vista into the premier ski resort in the country.
But to make all of these changes would mean that he’d have to stay. To dig his heels in and reclaim the life that he’d once walked away from. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. Or that he could. He wasn’t the same man who had left here two years ago. He’d changed as much as Lacy had. Maybe more.
Staying here would mean accepting everything he’d once run from. It would mean living with Jack’s ghost. Seeing him on every ski run. Hearing his laugh on the wind.
Sam’s gaze fixed on a lone skier making his way down the mountain. Snow flared up from the sides of his skis and as he bent low to pick up speed, Sam could almost feel the guy’s exhilaration. Sam had grown up on that mountain and just seeing it again was easing all of the rough edges on his soul that he’d been carrying around for two years. It wouldn’t be easy, but he belonged here. A part of him always would.
And just like that, he knew that he would stay. At least as long as it took to make all of the changes he’d once dreamed of making to his family’s resort.
The first step on that journey was laying it out for his father.
* * *
“And you want to oversee all of this yourself?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, leaning back in one of the leather chairs in the family great room. “I do. We can make Snow Vista the place everyone wants to come.”
“You’ve only been back a couple hours.” Bob’s eyes narrowed on his son. “You’re not taking much more time over this decision than you did with the one to leave.”
Sam shifted in his chair. He’d made his choice. He just needed to convince his father that it was the right one.
“You sure you want to do this?”
The decision had come easily. Quickly, even though he’d barely arrived. Maybe he should take some time. Settle in. Determine if this was what he really wanted to do. But even as he considered it, he dismissed it.
Looking at his father, Sam realized that his first concern—the worry that had brought him home—had been eased. His dad was in no danger. His health wasn’t deteriorating. But still, the old man would have to rest up, take it easy, which meant that Sam was needed here. At least for the time being.
And if he didn’t involve himself in the family resort, what the hell would he do with himself while he was here? He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. If he got right to work he could have most of the changes made and completed within a few months. By then, his dad should be up and feeling himself again and Sam could... “Yeah, Dad. I’m sure I want to do it. If I get started right away, most of it can be finished within a few months.”
“I remember you and Jack sitting up half the night with drawings and notebooks, planning out what you were going to do to the place.” His father sighed heavily and Sam could feel his pain. But then his father nodded, tapped the fingers of his right hand against his knee. “You’ll supervise it all? Take charge?”
“I will.” Heat swarmed through the room, rushing from the hearth where a fire burned with licks and hisses of flames.
“So this means you’re staying?” His father’s gaze was wise and steady and somehow way too perceptive.
“I’ll stay. Until I’ve got everything done anyway.” That was all he could promise. All he could swear to.
“Could take months.”
“To finish everything? I figure at least six,” Sam agreed.
His father shifted his gaze to stare out the window at the sprawling view of the Salt Lake Valley. “I shouldn’t let you put your money on the line,” he finally said quietly. “You’ve got your own life now.”
“I’m still a Wyatt,” Sam said easily.
Bob slowly turned his head to look at his son. “Glad to hear you remember that.”
Guilt poked at Sam again and he didn’t care for it. Hell, until two years ago, guilt had never been a part of his life, but since then, it had been his constant companion. “I remember.”
“Took you long enough,” his father said softly. “We missed you here.”
“I know, Dad.” He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang in front of him. “But I had to go. Had to get away from—”
“Us.”
Sam’s head snapped up and his gaze fixed on his father’s face, wreathed in sorrow. “No, Dad. I wasn’t trying to get away from the family. I was trying to lose myself.”
“Not real smart,” the older man mused, “since you took you with you when you left.”
“Yeah,” Sam muttered, jumping to his feet and pacing. His father’s point made perfect sense when said out loud like that. But two years ago, Sam hadn’t been willing or able to listen to anyone. He hadn’t wanted advice. Or sympathy. He’d only wanted space. Between himself and everything that reminded him he was alive and his twin was dead.
He stalked back and forth across the wide floor until he finally came to a stop in front of the man sitting quietly, watching him. “At the time, it seemed like the only thing to do. After Jack...” He shook his head and bit back words that were useless.
Didn’t matter now why he’d done what he had. Hearing him say that he regretted his choices wouldn’t change the fact that he had walked out on the people who loved him. Needed him. But they, none of them, could understand what it had meant when his twin—the other half of himself—had died.
His dad nodded glumly. “Losing Jack took a huge chunk out of this family. Tore us all to pieces, you more than the rest of us, I’m guessing. But putting all that aside, I need to know, Sam. If you start something here, I need to know you’ll stay to see it through.”
“I give you my word, Dad. I’ll stay till it’s done.”
“That’s good enough for me,” his father said, and pushed out of his chair. Standing, he offered his hand to Sam and when they shook on it, Bob Wyatt smiled and said, “You’ll have to work with our resort manager to get this up and running.”
Sam nodded. Their resort manager had been with the Wyatts for twenty years. “Dave Mendez. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
“Guess you haven’t heard yet. Dave retired last year.”
“What?” Surprised, Sam asked, “Well who replaced him?”
His father gave him a wide grin. “Lacy Sills.”
* * *
First thing the next morning, Lacy was sipping a latte as she opened the door to her office. She nearly choked on the swallow of hot milk and espresso. Gasping for air, she slapped one hand on her chest and glared at the man sitting behind her desk.
“What’re you doing here?”
Sam took his time looking up from the sheaf of papers in front of him. “I’m going over the reports for the hotel, the cabins and the snack bar. Haven’t gotten to the ski runs yet, but I will.”
“Why?” She managed one word, her fingers tightening on the paper cup in her hand.
God, it was a wonder she could think, let alone talk. Her head was fuzzed out and her brain hadn’t quite clicked into top gear. It was all Kristi’s fault, Lacy told herself. Sam’s sister had come over to Lacy’s cabin the night before, carrying two bottles of wine and a huge platter of brownies.
At the time it had seemed like a great idea. Getting a little drunk with her oldest friend. Talking trash about the man who was such a central part in both of their lives.
Sam.
It always came down to Sam, she thought and wished to heaven she had a clear enough head to be on top of this situation. But, she thought sadly, even without a hangover, she wouldn’t be at her best facing the man who had shattered her heart.
It was still hard for her to believe that he’d come back. Even harder to know what to do about it. The safest thing, she knew, would be to keep her distance. To avoid him as much as possible and to remind herself often that no doubt he’d be leaving again. He had left, he said at the time, because he hadn’t been able to face living with the memories of Jack.
Nothing had changed.
Which meant that Sam wouldn’t stay.
And Lacy would do whatever she had to, to keep from being broken again.
“When I left,” Sam said quietly, “we had just started making changes around here.”
“Yes, I remember.” She edged farther into the office, but the room on the first floor of the Wyatt lodge was a small one and every step she took brought her closer to him. “We finished the reno to the lodge, but once that was done, we put off most of the rest. Your folks just weren’t...” Her voice trailed off.
The Wyatts hadn’t been in the mood to change anything after Jack’s death changed everything.
“Well, while I’m here, we’re going to tackle the rest of the plans.”
While he was here.
That was plain enough, Lacy thought. He was making himself perfectly clear. “You talked to your dad about this?”
“Yeah.” Sam folded his hands atop his flat abdomen and watched her. “He’s good with it so we’re going to get moving as quickly as possible.”
“On what exactly?”
“For starters,” he said, sitting forward again and picking up a single piece of paper, “we’re going to expand the snack bar at the top of the lift. I want a real restaurant up there. Something that will draw people in, make them linger for a while.”
“A restaurant.” She thought of the spot he meant and had to admit it was a good idea. Hot dogs and popcorn only appealed to so many people. “That’s a big start.”
“No point in staying small, is there?”
