* * * *

  Olivia stood on the quaint, wooden platform eagerly awaiting the train, struggling not to show how happy she was to be leaving Pine Mountain at last. She loved her family, but this visit had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated. While it had been pleasant at times, at others it had been like rubbing salt in an open wound—too painful to want to repeat any time soon. She’d especially enjoyed seeing her brother and his wife, and meeting their gorgeous six-month-old son. Holding that sweet baby in her arms had created a deep longing within her, one she knew would never go away.

  She’d survived three church services without the roof opening and avenging angels striking her dead for daring to defy the Lord’s house, as she piled lie on top of lie. God knew why she couldn’t ski, why she had to keep her dreaded secret, but it didn’t make things any easier. Living like this, always on the edge afraid one falsehood would contradict another, constantly having to dodge the truth, was a miserable existence. As a bodyguard, false identities and undercover work were part and parcel of the job, but she was losing the real Olivia under a mountain of prevarications and half-truths.

  It had been difficult seeing all the people who’d been her friends and had supported her skiing career. Ignoring the siren call of the mountain had been worse. The brace she’d worn for the entire visit, leaving her leg itchy and dry, had done its job at first, but her co-skiers were not easily convinced, and unless she got out of here fast, she was afraid they’d drag her to the slopes, kicking and screaming all the way. “Face your fears,” they’d said. If they only knew…

  Fortunately, God had answered her prayers, and the howling wind announced the approach of another Colorado storm. She needed to be back in Denver before it struck. Pine Mountain could be cut off for days if the weather was bad enough.

  “I don’t know why you have to leave again,” moaned Molly, her eighteen-year-old sister. “We hardly spent any time together. Even if you can’t ski anymore, why can’t you find work in Denver? At least you’d be closer. Pine Mountain is home. You belong here with us.” Tears brimmed her eyes.

  Guilt flooded Olivia once more. She’d purposely avoided being alone with her sister, another sin for which she’d have to atone. It wasn’t Molly’s fault she resembled Tamara. Genes were genes.

  “With the storm rolling in later today, going back to Denver by train this morning only makes sense. My flight’s an early afternoon one, and I can’t afford to miss it. I’ll talk to Veronica about getting you a summer job in Philadelphia. You’ll love Fantasies and More. We can spend the summer together, and you can check out some of the colleges in the area. It’ll give you more choices for next year. We’ll have lots of girl-time and fun, you’ll see.”

  I’ll make sure of it.

  “Yeah, sure we will. You’ll be working, and I won’t know anybody…”

  “Molly, don’t start,” her dad said, cutting off the beginning of her rant. “Livy has to do what’s best for her.”

  Olivia turned gratefully to the couple standing on the platform beside her. Mom and Dad had aged over the last few years, but who hadn’t?

  Her mother frowned. “I don’t know why you just can’t stay a few more days. People will be so disappointed not to see you tomorrow night. It isn’t right for you to spend New Year’s Eve alone.”

  Olivia smiled, sending up a second prayer of thanks for being spared yet another painful event. The Cummings’s New Year’s Eve party was a family tradition started long before her birth. The last time she’d attended, she’d been with Erik and Tamara. She couldn’t handle that memory and everything it entailed, not yet, maybe not ever. To add insult to injury, her mom had probably made a last ditch effort at matchmaking. It was funny how clear things were in hindsight. A woman had perfect vision until she fell in love, and then all bets were off.

  “Mom, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I love my job and the new life I’ve made for myself. I’m happy.”

  At least that wasn’t a lie. She did like some aspects of her job, and if there were one or two chauvinists to deal with, so be it. Female bodyguards had to prove themselves all the time. And if she was lonely sometimes, well, that was part of her penance. “I’m sorry I’ll miss your party, but it’s better this way. No one will have to get up at the crack of dawn to drive me into the city.”

  “That life back there suits you. You’ve got sparkle in your eyes again, and that’s a good thing,” her father said, coming to her rescue. “I’m glad you’ve got someone in your life, and I’m guessing you’re anxious to get back to your young man. I’m sure Craig has plans for New Year’s too. But you need to put it all behind you. Get back on your skis, Livy. Neither Erik nor Tam would have wanted you to stay away from the sport you all loved. They’d have wanted you happy, living life to the fullest, not barely existing as you’ve done these past five years.”

  Olivia felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I’ll think about it, Dad. Really I will, but the leg…”

  He put his arm around her to pull her close to him, allowing his large frame to protect her from the icy wind, and turned to her mother.

  “She needs to move on, Maggie, just as we’ve done. While I wish she were closer to home, I’ll be happy as long as she is.”

  Remorse ate at Olivia for deceiving her family this way. She hadn’t skied since the accident. Her father and mother thought they understood why, but they didn’t. Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t deserve to be happy.

  As for Craig… That lie sat heavy on her heart along with all the other sins she bore. Out of self-preservation and the need to stop her mother’s determination to find her a suitable husband, Olivia had invented a relationship in Philadelphia, one who had nothing to do with her past or skiing. At first, it had simply been, “I’m seeing someone”, but then they’d kept asking questions, and she’d created this paragon based on George Stanton her favorite author. The lie had grown to epic proportion. No doubt Mom would expect an engagement by spring. Oh what a tangled web we weave…When would it end?

  The sound of the lonely train whistle echoed. It was too late to tell the truth about any of it now.

 
Susanne Matthews's Novels