Zach made his way back toward Laurie.
“What was that all about?” She could easily guess, but she wanted to hear what he had to say.
“You’re right. A storm developed just east of here, and it’s moving fast. Looks like it might pack a punch.”
She cringed. It was one thing to sense when it would snow or rain, but it was an entirely different thing to have it be so accurate and unexpected.
“Let’s get going.” He lifted his head again as the snow started to fall. “Geez, woman.”
She shook her head. “You think I’m causing the weather?”
He chuckled. “Of course not. I’m just impressed with your precognition.”
“Anybody can do that,” she mumbled, though she knew it wasn’t true. At least not to the accuracy she could provide.
“You lead.” Zach pointed down the slope.
It was steeper than anything she’d been on that morning, and her confidence fled. “Zach…”
“Don’t think about it. You were doing a marvelous job. I know you can do it. Same rules apply. Make wide zigzags back and forth across the hill. We’re in no hurry. The steepness of the mountain doesn’t matter a bit. All it does is dictate how much of an angle you want to descend with.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. She needed to get a move on before the snow blinded them. Already it was coming down faster. She lowered her goggles over her eyes and glanced at the lift. It was empty. At some point they must have stopped letting people ascend.
Great. A storm puts a halt to the skiers while the new girl is on the top of the mountain.
Taking Zach’s advice, she headed to the right, keeping her skis aligned and making a wide line across the slope until she reached the tree line. Using the maneuver he’d taught her all morning, she made the sharp turn, putting most of her weight on her outer foot while lifting her inside foot just enough to keep her skis aligned. She leaned her body uphill. Easy peasy.
She wove back across the mountain to the other side of the slope aware of two things—Zach was right behind her, and she’d made very little progress downward. If she wanted to get to the bottom before being buried in a blizzard, she needed to pick up the pace, allow for a slightly less conservative angle, and make faster turns.
On the next turn, she lined the skis slightly more toward the bottom of the slope, immediately picking up speed. It was invigorating and scary at the same time. She survived the turn and two more just like it, proud of herself for how quickly she’d picked up this sport. She even enjoyed it.
Perhaps she got too cocky. On the next straight line, she closed her eyes for a brief moment to enjoy the wind blowing across her face and the snow pelting her. When she blinked them open, the most ridiculous ominous cloud loomed in front of her.
She blinked several times, hoping her eyes were deceiving her. But the cloud continued to coalesce inside the tree line. It wouldn’t have caused so much angst if it hadn’t been black—and freaky.
It floated her direction. She twisted her head around to see if Zach was in sight. Hopefully he saw the same thing and she hadn’t lost her mind. For a second, she couldn’t see him. And then she realized he was several yards up the mountain, but his attention was on the sky.
She whipped her head back to front and completely lost her balance as the strange cloud bore down on her, coming toward her with the same speed she careened toward it.
She had no chance to consider turning when she hit the edge of the slope. Instead she plowed off the path and lost control of her actions between the trees.
She screamed, dropped her poles, and threw her arms up to protect her face as she totally lost her wits and plowed deeper into the forest, wondering how on earth she managed to keep upright.
Finally, she hit something with her left ski and tumbled forward. Both skis separated from her ski boots, just as Zach had said would happen in an emergency. She tumbled head over heels for several more yards until she finally came to a stop right in front of a huge trunk and flopped down on her back.
Her heart pounded. She breathed so heavily she couldn’t speak. She blinked up at the sky, trying to assess if she was injured.
“Jesus, Laurie. Are you okay?” Zach leaned over her, blocking the falling snow.
She wondered how he got to her so fast. It could have only been moments. Then again, he was an experienced skier. He could easily weave through the trees and keep up.
“Laurie…” He set his hands on both sides of her face. “Does anything hurt?”
She shook her head.
He held her face firmly. “Don’t move. You could have a broken neck.”
“I don’t h-have a b-broken neck,” she stuttered as the cold snow instantly lowered her body temperature. “Nothing hurts. I’m f-fine.”