He didn’t win. That honor went to Mr. Tomlin, who couldn’t have looked happier than if he’d won a gold medal.
“When will you make me dinner? Do I get to come to the inn, or do I have to eat it here?” Mr. Tomlin’s inflection proved his strong preference for a road trip. “Will you be joining me, too?”
Wyatt couldn’t blame the man. Living confined to a place like this, filled with aging, sometimes sickly, older people, must get stifling. Even without that context, a quiet meal with Emma held appeal, too. At least it would if she acted with him as she did around most other people.
Emma smiled. “Of course I’ll join you, Mr. Tomlin, but let’s push it off until after Wyatt and his crew leave. We’ll talk later about what you’d like, and then we’ll pick a date. I’ll speak with Ms. Henley about getting you over to the inn. Sound good?”
“I can’t wait.” Mr. Tomlin sat back and adjusted his bow tie. “I need to think about what I want to eat. Something I haven’t had in a long while. Something I can’t get here.”
“The sky’s the limit.” Emma collected the bingo cards. The sunlight filtered through the plate glass window, casting her in a golden glow. Saint Emma did look a bit angelic just then, goodwill flowing off her in waves, warming those in her path even more than the sun’s rays. Wyatt felt himself straining toward her like a sunflower. “It looks like our time is almost up today.”
“When will the movie be on TV?” Mrs. Ritter asked.
“We’ll air part one in January, just before the first qualifier,” Mari replied. “Then, depending on how Wyatt does, we’ll follow him through the competition season and air part two after that.”
Depending on how Wyatt does. A reminder of the uncertain road ahead.
He rubbed his knee absently, mind racing. With Trip’s help, he should get through this month of training without being buried by another avalanche. But could Trip help him learn to read the terrain better, and quickly? Would it be enough for him to qualify for bigger competitions, or would he fall on his face—literally and figuratively—effectively ending his competition days and hopes of future film deals and big sponsor money.
He looked up to find Emma staring at his hand on his knee, her brows knitted together. Whatever part of him itched to know her better, he needed to squelch it. He’d come to this town for one purpose.
Forcing himself not to flirt, Wyatt stood and wandered off. He’d done his best to engage the seniors and give Mari the footage she needed, but now he wanted to fade away and regroup.
Earlier he’d noticed the way Ryder had disengaged from the video in order to become more involved with just one resident—a disabled man. Memories of Emma’s accusations that Ryder had changed his mind about this comeback adventure, that he was being forced to relive his accident and subsequent losses, replayed.
Throughout Ryder’s recovery, Wyatt had focused on his brother’s physical progress. With each milestone—sitting, standing, walking, talking—Wyatt had breathed a new sigh of relief. He’d believed each step brought them closer to the way things used to be.
Now Wyatt had the chance to work on his brother’s mental and emotional progress. Shadows and gaps existed now that made navigating their relationship more complicated, but no more insurmountable than the many snowboard tricks Wyatt had mastered during his life.
Surely Ryder wanted that connection back, too. They’d always connected best through this sport, this world they both loved—the mountains, the competition circuit, all of it. Ryder didn’t have to lose it all just because he couldn’t compete. He could still be an invaluable player. Hell, if Ryder “needed to be needed,” then he needn’t look further than his brother. Besides, Wyatt couldn’t let go of this plan for reviving Ryder’s spirit because, if this didn’t work, he had no plan B. And settling for Ryder living the rest of his life so detached was not an option.
He watched Ryder’s shoulders tense as he approached him. “Mind if I join you two? I’m Wyatt.”
Ryder merely shrugged.
“Marcus Hartley.” The elderly man gestured to an empty chair. “Your brother was telling me about the avalanche. You got lucky!”
“That’s one way to look at it.” Wyatt hadn’t felt very lucky yesterday.
Marcus held up his prosthetic hand, grinning. “When you’re dealt a blow, you learn to look for silver linings.”
“Great perspective.” Wyatt wondered if Marcus had made an impact on Ryder. “I’ve hired a guide for the rest of the month, so hopefully that won’t happen again. I’m not too proud to ask for help, which is why I’ve asked Ryder to be part of this process. I can’t do it without him and his support.”