Working It Out (5 page)

The guilt bore down on her the same way it did every time
she saw her brother. She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. “So, you
coming? The food’s getting cold.”

Alec’s hands moved from the keyboard to his lap, and he
nodded. “Coming.”

Without thinking, Grace moved behind him to wheel him out
of the room, but one cold look from Alec had her snapping her hands to her side
and leading the way to the kitchen. There was nothing Alec hated more than
being treated like an invalid. Grace should have known better.

“So,” Grace said as they sat down to eat. “What sort of
code are you working on now?”

“Just a program for an internet site. They have a lengthy
and complex questionnaire they need programmed. It needs to jump to new pages or
skip certain questions based on the user’s answers then map out and analyze the
results.” He shrugged. “Pretty boring stuff, but it pays the bills.”

“Whatever,” Grace said. “You love that kind of stuff.
It’s like a never-ending puzzle to you.”

He nodded. “Good thing, too, because there’s not much
else that—” He cut himself off and shoved a forkful of stir fry into his mouth.

Grace didn’t know what to say. She lowered her eyes to
her plate so Alec wouldn’t see the pity that filled them. He hated that almost
as much as he hated help.

“You really don’t need to keep cooking and shopping for
me,” Alec said. “I’m a big boy and can do it myself.”

They’d had this conversation before. Several times, in
fact. And every time, Grace’s answer was the same. “I like to do it,” she said.
“I get lonely and enjoy hanging out with my brother. Is that such a bad thing?”

“Not it if were true.” His light-green eyes took on a
teasing quality, but Grace knew he wasn’t really joking. No matter how hard she
tried to hide how difficult it was for her to see him like this, Alec could
probably see right through her.

Grace swallowed her food and pasted on a smile. “I was
thinking that maybe you could come visit me sometime—you know, at work. See
what I do. We have all this equipment there that you’re welcome to use if you
ever want to work out.” She bit her tongue after that last part. She shouldn’t
have said it, but the words had slipped out before she could check them.

“Are you saying I’m looking out of shape?” he said dryly.

Grace sneaked a glance at him, trying to gauge what was
going through his mind—if he was in a mood that could take some positive
criticism. Maybe it was time to stop all the dancing around the subject and tell
him what she really thought. “No, I’m saying that it would be good for you to
get out a little more. You can still workout, you know. In fact, you need to.
Otherwise you’re at risk for things like blood clots, muscle atrophy, or
osteoporosis.”

Silence.

“Would that really be so bad?” Alec spoke the words
quietly, as if he hadn’t meant them to be heard by anyone. As if he would
actually welcome an early death.

Grace set down her fork with a sharp clack on the table
and glared at her brother. She hated—
hated
—when he said stuff like that.
“Yes, Alec, that would be bad. How could you even think—” She broke off,
fighting back emotion. Not even the sun shining through the open windows could
ebb the pain that had suddenly slammed into her chest.

“I was only joking, Grace. Lighten up,” Alec said. Only
he hadn’t been joking, and they both knew it. Still, he looked sorry for having
caused her pain, and if he felt sorry enough, maybe Grace could use that to her
advantage.

She leaned across the table and covered his hand with
hers. “Just come. Please? I have an opening tomorrow. You can get out of the
house, and we can work through a few exercises. You used to love to work out.”

“I used to love a lot of things.” His eyes drifted toward
the open window and took on a pained quality, almost as if the glimpse into the
outside world reminded him of something that had been taken away.

Grace returned her attention to her food, feeling
defeated. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was enabling her brother.
Maybe it was time to stop coming around, time to stop trying to convince him to
be someone he obviously didn’t want to be anymore. Maybe—

“Okay. I’ll be there tomorrow,” said Alec.

Grace’s eyes snapped to his as hope flared inside her.
She felt as though she’d just leapt over a massive hurdle. If Alec came once,
maybe he’d want to keep coming. Maybe he’d even start to smile again—really
smile. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally start to realize that his life
wasn’t over, just different.

T
he chopper
thundered
away, leaving Seth, his two best friends, and their guide at
the top of one of the many mountain ranges in Haines, Alaska. Snow whipped in Seth’s
face, stinging the exposed part of his face like tiny glass shards. But he
didn’t care. This was day one of a fourteen-day trip that had been planned nearly
a year earlier, right after their last heli-skiing trip. It marked the
beginning of what would be an epic two weeks.

Seth adjusted his helmet and goggles as he waited for the
noise of the chopper to subside. He looked around, getting a 360-degree view that
featured one snow-covered mountain after another. The sky was blue, the sun
shining, and the early February chill biting. With over 5,000 vertical feet of
skiable terrain below him, Seth couldn’t wait to strap on his skis and take the
plunge. In his mind, nothing compared to skiing down the fresh, deep powder of
an untouched run. This was what life was all about—tossing fear aside and
jumping in with both feet.

Mike had taught him that.

Garrett thrust his snowboard vertically into the snow and
draped his arms over the top of it as he glanced at Seth. “You ready for this?”

“More than ready.” Seth pulled the drawstrings of his
gloves, tightening them around his wrists to keep the snow out.

A grin appeared on Garrett’s face as he shook his head.
“I’ve gotta admit, I’m a little nervous. That’s a pretty steep run through some
pretty deep snow. I hope our guide knows what he’s doing. I don’t want to trigger
an avalanche or something.”

“You worry too much.”

“And you don’t worry enough sometimes.”

Owen dropped his skis in the snow and shoved his boots in
the bindings one at a time, clicking them into place. “Today is going down in
history as the most epic day ever. And I’m going to get it all on camera.” He
pointed toward his head, where a borrowed helmet cam stuck up from the top like
a pudgy antennae.

Seth chuckled as he shoved his own boots into his skis. This
was Owen’s first experience heli-skiing, and he was like a six-year-old kid on
a sugar high—something Seth would be sure to tease him about later when they
watched whatever kind of video feed came from Owen’s helmet cam. “Just don’t
biff it too much, or we’ll all get motion sickness when we watch it.”

“Whatever. You know I can ski circles around both of
you.”

“If you can catch us,” Seth joked. Born and raised near a
ski resort in Canada, Owen was the better skier—not that Garrett had ever
really learned, since he preferred to snowboard. But over the past couple of
years, Seth’s time spent on the slopes had brought his skill level nearer to
Owen’s—the perk of having a lot of money and a flexible schedule.

“You guys about ready?” The guide’s deep voice called
out.

Seth glanced at Garrett, who was strapping on his board,
then at Owen. Side-by-side, his two friends looked ridiculous. Garrett sported
neon orange from his helmet to his ski pants so he’d be easier to find if he
got lost or caught in an avalanche, while Owen looked as though he’d raided
various people’s closets for his ski apparel—which he had. He wore a red and
white striped jacket, a royal-blue helmet, and some brown plaid snow pants. Not
that Owen cared. He’d been saving for this trip for over two years and couldn’t
afford new ski gear to go with it. Seth, knowing how chilly it was in the high
mountains, refused to let him bring his old, worn-out ski jacket and holey
pants. He’d insisted that Owen borrow one of his jackets. The plaid pants came
from another friend.

Seth gripped his poles and pushed his skis forward. “I’m
ready.”

“Remember what we talked about,” the guide said. “Stay
behind me and don’t veer too far off course, or you may find yourself taking
flight over the edge of a cliff. I know this mountain well so follow my lead.”

“Is there any avalanche danger?” Garrett asked.

The guide shook his head. “We tested up here yesterday.
The snow is solid.”

“Let’s get it on then!” Owen called out. “Time’s
a-wasting!”

The guide nodded and pushed himself forward, taking the
slope head-on with large, smooth curves. Garrett headed out next, followed by
Seth. A loud
whoopee
followed as Owen took up the rear.

Seth grinned as he carved his way down the mountain,
feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with the wind rushing at him
as he created fresh tracks through the powder. A ski resort could never compete
with the freedom, the beauty, and the isolation of backcountry skiing—as Owen
would soon realize.

 Seth let out a yelp of his own, allowing the thrill of
it all to seep into his bones. He’d needed this trip.

Ever since the auction two weeks earlier, Lanna had
avoided his calls and texts, refusing to return his messages. She’d taken
stubbornness to a whole new level, and if Seth hadn’t cared so much about her
or their friendship, he would have washed his hands of her. But Lanna was the
closest thing he had to a sister, and he didn’t want to lose that.

Since he couldn’t force her to talk to him, Seth had
packed his bags and jumped on the plane, more than ready to take a break from
all things Lanna Carver. The next fourteen days would be all about release and
the thrill of adventure. No worries, no cares—just him, his friends, and the
majestic mountains of Alaska.

The guide let out a whoop as he took a jump and executed
an impressive forward flip, landing solidly on both skis. Garrett followed the
guide, bringing his knees up to his chest in a high jump. Seth grinned and
headed for the ramp, increasing his speed and launching himself in the air.
Without much thought, he twisted his body into a familiar stunt, executing a
perfect 360.

Exhilaration rushed though him as his skies connected
with the snow then sank deeply into the powder. Too late, Seth realized his
mistake. While his skies stopped rotating, his knees didn’t. A dull pop
sounded, and a searing pain blasted through one of his knees, traveling up and
down his leg. Seth gasped and doubled over, grabbing his leg above the knee to
try to dull the pain as waves of nausea washed over him.

Seth had heard about a pain like this. Read about it.
Worked out every day to keep his legs strong so he could avoid it. But here it
was, on the first day of his fourteen-day heli-skiing trip.

“Dude, you okay?” Owen said, skidding to a stop next to
him.

Seth glanced at Owen then down the hill at Garrett, who
still snowboarded on, unaware. The remaining skiable terrain stretched out
below Seth, taunting him with something he could no longer have. He bit back a
curse.

“I’m pretty sure I just tore my ACL.”

V
oices, the
shuffling
of feet, and other noises invaded Seth’s sleep. He tried to
force his eyes open, but it felt as if someone had glued them shut.

“Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Garrett’s voice sounded.

“Anytime now,” said an unfamiliar female voice.

Seth probed through his foggy mind, finally recalling
where he was and why. Funny that his knee didn’t hurt at all. The
anesthesiologist must have given him a local. He tried to pry his eyes open once
again, this time succeeding. A brief glimpse of a blurry hospital room appeared
before his eyes closed again.