Sunday morning we had a sunrise feast in bed. Erhardt sent up platters of mushroom crepes, sausages, pastries and fresh fruit salad, along with a gigantic pot of coffee. I could have spent the day in bed without a complaint. After breakfast, we soaked in a bubble bath, splashing suds almost to the ceiling. I’d never made love in a bath before. Things certainly got very slippery. When we came out, Malone had another surprise for me. Waiting on the bed was a quilted nylon suit, heavy woolen socks and a pair of thick boots with rubber soles.
"What is this for?"
"Today's outdoor activity. Wear a sweater and some jeans underneath and you'll be comfortable." Malone was already dressing in a similar outfit.
"Wait a minute, Hugo. What is it exactly that we're going to do?" The image of curling up in bed for the day was still fresh in my brain.
"Get dressed," he said stubbornly. That’s just what this relationship needs, two stubborn halves. I did what he asked, albeit slowly. Malone was sitting on the edge of the bed, impatiently drumming his fingers on his knees.
"You got rhythm," I muttered.
"I should have got you up an hour earlier. It'll be noon before we leave the room."
I turned to face him, half of my upper lip tinted with gloss. "If you had gotten me up an hour earlier, I'd still be in bed. The patient man is greatly rewarded."
Malone shrugged, frowned, and went down to the lobby to bullshit with Erhardt. I took my time. If I hurried now, he'd begin to expect it all the time. No sense getting his hopes up. They were arguing about football when I joined them.
"Ravishing!" David Erhardt exclaimed, blowing me a kiss with his fingertips.
"About time," Malone grunted playfully.
I struck a model's pose at the base of the stairs and looked haughtily over my shoulder. Both men laughed.
"Now will you please tell me what the hell we're going to do?"
Malone shook his head. "Nope, but I will show you." He slapped David on the shoulder and led me outside.
Waiting in the snow beside Malone's truck were two small snowmobiles. They looked brand new, glistening with moisture on the hoods. Malone dug some keys out of his pocket and started each unit up.
"I've never done this before, Hugo," I yelled over the noise.
"That's what you said about skiing. Look how quickly you picked that up. This is easier. Right hand throttle, left hand brake. You steer by turning the handle bars." Malone grinned as he strapped on his crash helmet.
"This is crazy, Hugo!"
"Trust me, Jay. You'll love it. I've seen you drive; this is right up your alley." With that he unceremoniously crammed a matching helmet over my head. Malone had thought of everything. Malone sat me on the sled and showed me the basics in a thirty-second crash course. I wished he hadn’t referred to it in those terms.
"Just follow me. We’re going on a regular trail, part of the state forest. It’s well maintained. We’ll be traveling about an hour before we stop." Then he gently worked the safety strap for the helmet under my chin and tightened it.
"What if I have to pee?"
"You should have thought of that before you got dressed. Let's ride."
"I hate you, Hugo," I muttered inside my helmet. Malone moved easily to his sled and climbed aboard. He waved at me then put the machine in gear. Reluctantly, I followed. We cut away from the lodge and the ski slopes and worked our way deeper into the woods that surrounded the area.
I would never admit it to Malone, but he had been right. I did love it. The snowmobile reminded me of a motorcycle, which I'd always enjoyed riding. The scenery was incredible. We moved through some of the most breathtaking forests I'd ever seen. Evergreen skyscrapers towered above us, clutching bits of snow to their boughs. The trail weaved back and forth, avoiding any clusters of trees too dense to ride through. Malone would slow down and glance back occasionally just to make sure I hadn't missed a turn and burst into a fireball. He was probably more concerned about the trees than he was about me. What's worse, the bum lied to me. It was two hours before he stopped, pulling his machine off the trail beside an old gravel pit. Malone switched off his snowmobile and waved me up alongside him.
"Well?" He worked his helmet off and set it on the seat behind him.
"Well what?" I yawned and popped my ears. The sudden silence took a little getting used to. My head felt sweaty as I yanked the helmet off. I looked away from his grinning face, hiding my own smile.
"You're a lousy liar, Jay," he said with a chuckle.
"Yeah, well you can't tell time for shit, Hugo. I almost peed my pants half-an-hour ago."
As I turned to look at him, I was pelted in the face with a snowball. If that wasn't bad enough, he jumped off his sled and tackled me. We ended rolling around in a drift, throwing handfuls of powder at each other. I managed to get a fair amount down the collar of his suit, where I'm sure it melted on his back. We were both laughing when Malone sat up, and silently pointed below us. During our harmless playing, we had rolled dangerously close to the edge of the pit. It was packed with snow. Some of the drifts were probably eight feet deep, while other spots had less than an inch. By my estimation, it was at least ninety feet from the ledge where we sat to the bottom of the bowl. This was not my idea of a scenic rest stop. No restrooms or hot cocoa.
“Look over there,” Malone said quietly.
Not thirty feet away from where we sat was a small wooded area. Standing perfectly still just beyond the trees were three deer. I’m no expert, but I think it was a mother and two fawns. I know there are occasional sightings of animals back in the city, but I’ve never seen them up close before.
“They’re beautiful,” I whispered.
We sat there silently for several minutes until the mother decided it was time to go. Gracefully she walked back into the woods, the two fawns automatically following her lead.
“Hey, check it out,” Malone said, pointing toward the base of the gravel pit.
I followed his finger but couldn't see anything significant. "Yippee. More snow. When I get home, I'm moving to Arizona," I teased. “The only snow I want to see will be in a paper cone with raspberry syrup.”
"See the tracks. People have been riding down there."
If I squinted I could make them out in the distance. “Isn’t this state land?” I asked.
“Nah, we left the state forest about a mile back. This is private property. It’s closed during the winter. But some of the woods, like where the deer were, wraps around the land. I’m sure the deer live deeper in the woods.”
I looked down into the pit again. The sides were steep and scarred no doubt from years of excavation. I wondered if this was a working site. As I studied the formation, the ground beneath me shifted. I was turning to face Malone when the snow gave way and I went sliding down into the bowl.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I kept screaming as I fell down the wall, rushing toward who knew what at the base. The suit did a good job of protecting me, but it was a long way from a comfortable ride.
Years ago, I'd dated a macho man who insisted we go white water rafting. Suicidal water sports rank right up there beside cannibalism in my book. But he was persistent and the only guy I’d dated in a while, so I grudgingly went along. One of the things the guide warned us about was falling out of the raft. Once you're out, you're out. There would be no climbing back in. This wasn't like a horse that you could turn around anywhere and reverse your trail. The current was running fast and furious, and there wasn't much hope of stopping the ten-man raft and paddling back upstream to pick up the hapless passenger.
What the guide instructed us to do was, if you fall in, lie on your back, point your feet downstream, wrap your arms across your chest and hang on. When the current slows, make for the shore. Sooner or later, someone would be along for you. Of course, one hour after we entered the rapids, I went over the side. It was at least two hours before anyone came looking for me. Macho man made the rest of the trip with two blonde chicks from Calgary who liked to share. We broke up that night.
Now, as I was shooting down the wall of the gravel pit, I remembered the guide's instructions. The nylon suit hindered the process of wrapping my arms, but the extra padding helped. I pointed my feet at the bottom, closed my eyes and screamed all the way. Where the hell was my helmet when I needed it?
When I got near the bottom, my right ankle caught a boulder that was frozen in place. Despite the heavy padding of the boots, a jolt of pain ripped through me. I rebounded off the rock and went spinning sideways down the last forty feet of pit. At one point I was going headfirst at a pile of rocks. I could envision my skull, crushing like a ripe melon as it rammed into the stones. Somehow I twisted around in time. I took the rocks against my left side and bounced past the outcropping, sliding the rest of the way into the base of the pit.
Numerous curses rolled from my lips as I lay on the ground. My head was spinning so badly I couldn't tell which direction was up. My eyes refused to focus on anything. The remains of breakfast began to rise from my stomach, but I managed to choke them back down.
"Malone! Where the hell are you?" My ears were buzzing and I could hear my own heartbeat thumping in my head. I was alive, but by how much and for how long? Didn't people die from exposure?
What had happened to Malone? Had he tried to grab me before I'd gone over the edge, his hands slipping across the slick nylon suit, unable to find a purchase for his fingers? Had…had he pushed me? Was this some sick, sadistic game? Lull Jamie into a romantic stupor then shove her narrow ass over the edge of a cliff? Even if she did survive the ride down, could she find her way out before hypothermia set in? What about food and water?
"Malone, where are you?" My voice didn't work above a whisper. I still couldn't focus my eyes and my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "I promise I'll never call you funny names again. Help me."
The buzzing in my head grew louder, until I succumbed to the noise.
* * * *
It was a beautiful dream. I was lying on the sand, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face. I was wearing my favorite bikini, the black one with the gold stripes on the hips. Nearby was a cabana with tropical drinks, complete with those silly little umbrellas. I was golden brown, even where the suit covered me. Paradise. Suddenly a large shadow fell across me. I looked up to see who dared interfere with my tan.
Malone. But it was not the passionate, charismatic man who had so easily swept me off my feet. No champion of kisses, no breakfast in bed. No romantic dinners, with soft music, candles and caresses. This was a sinister Malone, with no twinkle in the eyes, no soft voice to unhinge my knees. Was this the real Malone?
"You should have left it alone." His voice had a funny, metallic tone to it. As I raised my arm to hide my eyes, he began to stab me in the side with an enormous knife. I screamed and Malone let loose a hideous laugh. With each thrust of the blade, he mockingly called my name. His voice grew louder until he was shouting. "Jamie, Jamie, Jamie..."
"Jamie, c'mon baby, talk to me," Malone said.
I opened my eyes and screamed. "Get away from me!" Somehow I scrambled backwards, driving myself away from him. My chest was pounding with the urgency of my heart. I stopped when Malone didn't try to follow, only knelt there looking at me like I was a lunatic. I tried to sit up, but couldn't make it.
I looked down. This wasn't a sandy beach. It was a snow covered mess. Rocks jutted out of the snow haphazardly. I had the impression of empty beer bottles floating out with the tide, only to come to rest somewhere on the other side of the world. In the distance, I heard Malone call out.
"Take it easy, baby. That was some ride you took." Malone came toward me slowly. Behind him I could see the snowmobile he'd been riding.
"What happened, Hugo?" There went my pain-induced promise. It hurt my side to talk.
"You went sliding off the edge like a penguin. The snow beneath you must have given way. I turned around to check the machines, make sure they weren't too close. I looked back and you were gone. Are you all right, Jay?"
"I don't know, Malone. Every inch of my body hurts." I tried not to cringe as he knelt beside me again.
"Anywhere hurt more than the rest?" His voice was gentle and caring. Even his eyes showed concern.
"Ribs," I pointed with my left hand.
Tenderly he unzipped the nylon suit enough so he could reach his hand inside. When he put pressure on my ribs, a scream escaped my lips.
"Probably broke one," Malone said softly, "where else?"
I couldn't breathe now and talking was out of the question. I didn't want him to touch me if it was going to hurt anymore. I pointed at my head and my right foot. I held my breath, waiting for him to start probing at one end or the other. Nothing happened.
"If you rapped your skull hard enough, you might have a concussion." Malone's voice was soothing. "If your foot or ankle's broken, taking your boot off is the worst thing to do. We're a long way from civilization."
He ran a bare hand across my face, wiping away the excess snow. Gently he raked the hair out of my eyes. Was this for real, or was I just imagining it?
"What are we going to do, Malone?" I managed to whisper.
"We need to get you to a hospital, Jay, or at the very least, a doctor."
"They must have emergency medical services out here in God's country. Go drop a dime on 911."
He managed a tiny trace of a smile. "Not the way you're thinking. I already checked, there’s no cellular service available. The nearest town is about ten miles away. I don't want to leave you here alone, but I don't think you can handle the ride on a sled."
"I'll make it." I tried to sit up and fell back.
Malone's hands squeezed mine. "Lie still a minute. Let me take a look around."
He left me lying there in the snow. I had no way of tracking the time. The longer I lay there, the more I ached. What I wouldn’t give for a whirlpool and a massage right now. I must have drifted off again, because I didn't even hear the snowmobile start up when he moved it. Only when he picked me up did the pain bring me around.
"Ow! Jesus Christ, Malone! You're going to pay for this."
"Nice to have you back among the living, Jay." He tried to sound relaxed, but his eyes gave him away. They weren't smiling as he lowered me down.
"What's the plan, Hugo?" I had to grind my teeth together to keep from screaming. Damn, it hurt to move.
"There's a house about a mile or so back up the road. We're going to try for that. I don't want to bounce you around too much, so we'll go slowly. If you've broken a rib, it might puncture your lung if we're not careful."
"Now there’s an image I could do without. Do you have any encouraging words?"
He wasn't talking anymore. Maybe he was afraid to say something. As long as he was taking me with him, I felt reasonably safe. For the time being, that was. Keeping my mouth shut is hard for me, but I did it anyway. It was the only way to hold the screams inside. Because if I let them out, there would be another question that needed answering—would they be screams of pain or fear?
Malone settled me down on top of some pine branches. Everything smelled like a Christmas tree. He piled more branches around me then walked away. I couldn't lie completely down, but I could curl up and get reasonably comfortable. I heard the machine start up, and felt us begin to move. My head didn't like the idea. I closed my eyes and blacked out again.
* * * *
I awoke in a hospital bed. Clean starched sheets rubbed against my tender skin. Faded white walls devoid of any artwork stared back at me. My vision was clear. My ears were no longer ringing. There was a dull ache in the back of my skull, no worse than Friday morning after my tango with Southern Comfort. A single intravenous needle was taped to the back of my left hand. Hanging over the rail by my right hand was a nurse's call button. I thumbed it.
A skinny girl no older than twenty appeared in the doorway. Long black hair woven into a braid trailed down her back. If she wore a nametag, it was hidden beneath her cardigan sweater. She checked my pulse and temperature before speaking.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I played chicken with a runaway freight train and lost.”
“What’s your name?”
Obviously she planned on testing my mental capacities. Malone would have filled in any necessary paperwork. “Jamie Rae Richmond. I live in Plymouth.”
She nodded. “Good.” One hand rose before my face. “How many fingers?”
I groaned. “Two. Thumb and pinkie, Texas Longhorn style. Satisfied?”
“Yes. Are you hungry?”
“No.” My stomach revolted at even the suggestion of eating. “Where’s Malone?”
She smiled. “Is he that great-looking guy with the blue eyes?”
“That’s him.”
She sighed and smoothed out the blankets. “He’s in the lobby.”
“Send him in?”
“Sure thing.” She wiggled out the door and started to pull it shut behind her. Malone didn't wait for an invitation. He barged right on in.
"Hey, Jay."
"Hey, Malone. What's going on?"
"You've been out a long time." He looked a lot more relieved than the last time I saw him.
I found the controls for the hospital bed and managed to elevate my head. There's no fun in lying down alone. "So how bad is it?"
He smiled one of his best low wattage numbers. "You've a broken right ankle, two, count `em, two broken ribs and a slight concussion. The doctors suggest an overnight stay, then release in the morning if everything goes well."
"Aw shit, Malone. I ruined your weekend."
"Forget it, Jay. There will be plenty of other weekends."
"How did you get me out of the pit, Hugo? I don't remember a thing, other than riding along in a Christmas tree."
Malone nodded. "Those were branches from a pine to soften the ride. You were in the bucket from an old farm tractor. I found it with some other equipment not too far from where you landed. I rigged a towrope behind my sled and dragged it along. It worked pretty well for the short ride."
"How'd we get here?" I had trouble talking without yawning.
"We made it to that farmhouse, about a mile from the pit. Turns out the guy who lives there is a volunteer fireman. He ran for the ambulance and drove us in." He slid a hip onto the bed and rested one hand on mine. "When they were sure you were okay, he took me back to pick up the other sled. The rental place is sending a trailer out to haul them back."
"What about you? How are you going to get back to Erhardt’s inn?"
"I'm staying with you."
I was touched. He really meant to spend the night in a wooden armchair, watching over me. With my free hand, I reached up and squeezed his.
"That's sweet, Hugo. But it's not necessary. Go back to the inn, have a delicious meal and get a good night's sleep. Maybe you can even get in some skiing in the morning, before they cut me loose."
"I don't know, Jamie. . ."
"Look, Malone, this is your holiday weekend. I'm not going to do anything but sleep until morning anyway. There's no need for you to baby-sit me. I'm a big girl." If he wanted to fawn over me, I'd prefer it be at home.
He bent down and kissed me, cool lips on my face. "As long as you're sure you’ll be okay,” he said.
"I'm positive. Go have a sinful dinner and swap lies with Erhardt. Who knows what time the doc will cut me loose tomorrow? You might as well enjoy the skiing while you can."
His eyes sparkled with a smile. "Get some rest, Jay. I'll see you in the morning. Just call the inn and I’ll be here before you know it."
"Good night, Hugo." I wiggled my fingers at him as he left the room.
In a way, I didn't want him to leave. But for some reason his presence made me uncomfortable. My thoughts were still jumbled, no doubt from my noggin getting bounced around like a basketball at a Pistons -- Bulls game. I needed time to get all the pieces back where they belonged. I couldn't contemplate things rationally with Malone pressing my hand. After a while I gave up and sleep overtook me.