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Blissfully Yours
Blissfully Yours
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Blissfully Yours

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“Isn’t this great, Gwen? I’m actually running a ski resort here.” He scans the area in almost disbelief. For a moment, I forget my worries and concentrate on him. I want this to work. He’s a nice guy. I mean it. Aside from the fact he’s gorgeous, and my heart somersaults with the sight of him, he’s truly a nice guy.

“You’ve got a great place here, Mitch,” I say, keeping my eyes on him and thinking how great it feels to sit next to him this way. True, I’m holding the bar in a death grip, but at least I’m sitting here. Hopefully, I can let go when the time comes to get off.

I finally look around, not down, mind you, but around. “You know, something else that would be cool is sleigh rides. I think kids would like it, and couples would enjoy it in the evening.”

He smiles. “That’s a good idea. I’ll have to check into that. Oh, speaking of kids, I wanted to talk to you about Friday. Someone told me we may have a high school class coming in. Knowing how kids gravitate toward coffee shops, I’m thinking you’ll be plenty busy. Lisa will be here to help you, and Candace said she could help with the schoolkids if you need her. She’s not going home until Saturday.”

I nod. I see the top of the slope approaching, and as long as I keep my eyes lifted forward, I think I can do this.

“Hey, look, somebody wiped out,” Mitch says, pointing almost directly below us.

Without thinking, I follow his gaze downward and see a dot on the slope. The lift rocks a little with Mitch’s movement. As I bend slightly to see the skier, I notice my dangling feet, and the reality of where I am and what I’m doing hits me like an avalanche. My pulse bangs hard against the backs of my eyes. I break into a cold sweat. Vertigo takes over. My right hand grabs the side of the lift while everything around me starts to spin. My left hand clutches Mitch’s arm in a death grip.

“Gwen, what is it?”

I can’t talk. Everything around me is spinning. I can’t tell if I’m up or down, and I know we’re approaching the top of the hill. I think I’m going to die. I’ve not written out a will yet. Guacamole will become a ward of the state.

“Gwen? What is it?”

“I—I—I’m going to be sick,” I manage through clenched teeth.

“Sick?” He says the word as if I’ve hit him in the face with a snowball.

By now I’m terrified. I’m all out of balance. What if I slip forward? I hold my breath for fear the slightest whisper can cause me to fall. I try to focus on Mitch’s face, which looks the way mine feels, but I can’t stay there long. His face keeps swirling around me. I try to close my eyes.

“Hold on to me, Gwen. Do you want to get off at the top, or do you want to risk riding this back to where we got on?”

I feel myself slipping. My arms tingle; my neck is wet beneath my hair. The thin air makes me gasp for every breath.

“Gwen, hang on! I’ve got you.” Mitch grabs me hard against him.

I’m going to fall. I know I’m going to fall. I should have stayed in my classroom, on the ground, on precious soil. I slip another notch. Oh God, please help me.

“We’re getting off here. I’ve got you, Gwen. Everything will be all right.”

I hear him, but his words blur with the clouds around me. His fingers press through the layers of my clothes and pinch my ribs. I clutch his leg.

Mitch must have motioned to the lift operator, because I sense that the lift has stopped, but things around me continue to spin.

“Come on, Gwen, let’s get off here,” Mitch says, trying to pry me loose from the lift.

“Don’t touch me.” I hear the sharp growl of my voice and wonder how that could have come from me. My mother would be appalled.

“Gwen, you have to let loose. You’ll be fine. Let me help you.”

The only way he can pry my fingers loose from the bar is to chop off my hand.

Mitch has jumped off the lift, and I’m almost doubled over sideways. “I’m not getting off. I want to go down to the base,” I say. I can’t stay up this high. I’ll never make it. I’ll freeze to death or fall, or even worse, become bear bait.

“Hey, you guys all right?” the operator wants to know.

“She’s sick but wants to stay on and go to the base.”

“You want to ride back with her?” he asks.

“Absolutely. I can’t leave her alone this way,” Mitch says.

“I’ll start it up again and radio down to the attendant at the base. He can watch for you and stop the lift so you can get her off.”

“Thanks, man.”

I hear what they say, but I can’t steady myself. My stomach’s churning. I feel as though I’m trapped inside a kaleidoscope. Colors swirling all around me. Swirling, swirling.

“Can you lift up a little, Gwen?” Mitch’s voice sounds distant—as though he’s in a faraway tunnel.

I raise my head slightly, and he slips in, scooting me up farther. He puts his arm around me and grips me tight against his shoulder. Under difference circumstances, I could get into this.

It seems to take forever but finally the nightmare comes to a halt. Mitch gathers me into his arms and lifts me out. I feel him carry me away.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Candace’s skis swoosh up beside us. Her voice is tight with worry.

“I don’t know. She’s sick. Something happened in the lift. Probably the flu or something.”

“Oh, no. Gwen, are you all right?”

I want to answer her, but my stomach, the dizziness, the spinning.

When we reach the B and B, the episode subsides. My world sits upright once more, and the avalanche in my stomach begins to quiet. Granny opens the door, and Mitch takes me to the sofa.

“I’ll get her a warm cloth,” Granny says, already scurrying off toward the bathroom.

I take some deep, cleansing breaths while my equilibrium levels out. Once my world is back to normal, it’s confession time. “I’ve made a mess of everything.” I pull my hands to my face.

“Hey, it’s all right. You can’t help it,” Mitch says, smoothing the hair from my forehead. “Don’t worry about it.”

Candace pats my arm. “Gwen, honey, it’s all right.”

“You don’t understand,” I mumble between my fingers. “I should have told you.” Reluctantly, I pull my hands away.

I see them exchange a glance then look at me. “I’m so sorry,” I say.

“It’s all right, Gwen,” Mitch says, the look on his face making me almost willing to go through the whole vertigo thing again to keep him happy.

Almost.

Granny returns and places the warm cloth across my forehead.

“Gwen, what is it?” Candace asks, reminding me of what I have to say.

“I wanted to tell you. I really did. I even tried to tell you.” If You want to open the earth and swallow me whole right about now, Lord, I’m okay with that.

Mitch smiles and pats my hand. “Tell me what, Gwen?”

I don’t hear the ground crack, not even the slightest rumble. I guess I’m on my own here. I take a deep breath and look up at Mitch.

“I’m afraid of heights, I have vertigo, and until this morning, I’d never skied a day in my life.”

Chapter Five

The knot in my throat grows with Mitch’s ever widening eyes. I wish he’d say something. Anything.

“Vertigo?” He stares at the pine stand and says the word as though he expects the furniture to answer. He lifts his gaze to me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to. I really did.” I’m sure he’ll never believe me. I might as well pack up and go home now. “Candace, I should have told you long ago, but I was too ashamed.”

“Oh, Gwen, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have talked you into this,” Candace says.

“Talked her into this? I thought you said she wanted this job.”

Granny clucks her tongue and heads for the stairway.

I don’t like the look on Mitch’s face. I feel a sibling storm approaching. I’m thinking I want to go back on the ski lift. On second thought, maybe not. But why would Candace tell Mitch I actually wanted this job? She sought me out because he needed a cook—or so I thought. ’Course, the fact that Granny showed up makes me a bit suspicious now.

“Did you have anything to do with Granny coming?” Mitch puts as much punch in his voice as a whisper will allow.

“No, Mitch, I promise,” Candace says, drawing an X across her heart with her finger and raising her hand in a solemn pledge.

Mitch seems to believe her. He blows out a sigh. I know he’s wondering where to go from here.

“Don’t worry, Mitch, I’ll pack my things and head for home. This is my problem, not yours.”

He looks at me with those warm hazel eyes, and my heart melts down to my toes. “No, I don’t want you to leave, Gwen. We’ll get through this.”

I’m enjoying this a whole lot. He doesn’t want me to leave. He’s willing to work with me here. This has to mean something, right? The fact that he needs someone in the coffee shop nags at me a little, but I push it aside.

“I can ride the ski lift as long as I don’t look down,” I offer as some sort of truce.

He brightens a little, and I’m feeling a surge of hope.

“You really think so?”

I nod eagerly.

“I don’t know, Gwen,” Candace says, looking all motherly and concerned.

“I can do it, Candace,” I say, my gaze cutting off further discussion. She looks from me to Mitch, back to me. Her right eyebrow rises, and I’m almost certain I see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Yeah, she gets it.

“Well, if you think so. I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says, and I have the feeling she’s talking about more than the ski lift here.

My eyes hold hers. “I think I do.” We both turn to Mitch who looks totally oblivious to the underlying messages. He’s such a guy. But that’s a good thing. I’m glad that he’s a guy. And I’m glad that he’s oblivious. It’s just better that way.

He looks into my face. “So will you stay?” His voice is husky here, and it causes my skin to tingle. I don’t want to read more into things than are there, but my female radar tells me he might be interested in me, too.

Bring out a bowl of cashews. It’s time to celebrate.

I glance at Candace, and she’s struggling to keep the smile from her face. That’s a good sign. She must think he’s interested, too.

Definitely a cashews moment.

“If you’re sure you want someone like me around, vertigo, fear of heights, beginning skier, then I’ll stay.” Maybe I’m pushing things. Did I have to make a list?

He touches my arm. “We’ll work it out.” Then as if he remembers his sister being there, he turns to Candace. “Won’t we, Candy?”

I’d forgotten he called her Candy. How cute is that? This guy is something else.

Candace’s mouth splits into a full-grown grin and she nods.

Before we can talk on it further, Granny’s scream slices through the air. We look toward the upper level where we hear her voice and see her inching her way backward, eyes open wide, staring at the carpet. I’m thinking the cashews will have to wait.

Mitch jumps up and races toward the stairs. My gaze locks with Candace. We both blurt “Guacamole!” and scramble up the stairs right on Mitch’s heels. We reach the second floor, and my stomach lurches. I so want my safety bubble.

“What the… How in the world… Where the—” Mitch stammers, staring at the iguana, whose tail is whipping across the floor like a broom with attitude.

Guacamole’s body is arched and his dewlap—that thing that hangs beneath his chin—is extended. He’s definitely not in a happy mood.

“I can explain everything,” Candace blabbers while keeping her gaze fixed on Guacamole. Our circle widens as though we’re making room for John Travolta’s dance scene in Saturday Night Fever.

“Come on, Guacamole, it’s all right, boy.” I bend so he can see me and edge him back toward my room.

“You know this…this…thing?” Mitch asks, his deep voice rising in pitch.

I nod without looking away from Guacamole. “Come on, baby, you can do it,” I soothe, thinking I’ll pluck out the little reptile’s scales one by one if he doesn’t get into my room this very minute. Maybe I don’t mean that, but let me say if I had a dewlap, it would pretty much resemble a full-blown balloon right about now.

I get Guacamole in the room and close the door behind him. I turn to the others and lift a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.” They stare daggers through me, as though I’ve committed a heinous crime.

Granny’s white as a ghost. Her mouth is hanging open.

Candace jumps in before anyone can say anything. “I told Gwen she could bring her, um, pet.”

“This is your pet?” I can tell Mitch is totally reevaluating his earlier opinion of me.

“Yes.” I could throttle my brother. If he had given me a poodle for my birthday, I wouldn’t be having this discussion right now.

“I need to get back outside and tend to my guests. We’ll talk about your pet later.”

I’m in trouble. I can feel it.

“Do you feel well enough to run the shop?” he asks.