30

Brekka

Rob helps me transfer into my sit ski and fasten all the straps.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask. “I mean, the wedding is in a month and a half. If I get injured…”

Rob smiles. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous. You always get crabby. And yes. I’m sure my idea is a brilliant one. If you didn’t want to do this, you’d have sold that ski lodge already.”

“I have memories that have nothing to do with skiing at that lodge.”

He shakes his head. “You can’t lie to me. I know every time.”

Stupid Rob. He kisses me and all my anger evaporates. He does it regularly. I don’t know why I worried before. He wins every argument.

“No fair,” I say. “You can’t kiss me when we’re fighting.”

“You didn’t get the memo?” He kisses me again. “All’s fair in love and war. Plus, I’m doing this with you, and I’m going to be so bad that I’m sure to make you look good, no matter how rusty you are.”

“You have two legs.”

“I have a broken back, and my surgeon said nothing risky, so if I can do it, so can you.”

Vail’s pretty accommodating of handicapped skiers, and even has a lift that I can ride on each run. Eventually, I sigh and give in.

“Fine, let’s do this.” Maybe once I’ve gone down the run, the anxiety that’s formed a tight little ball in my belly will go away.

Rob and I angle ourselves downhill and oh! The feelings! I’m sliding down the ice on my single ski, turning and gliding, the wind in my hair, the cold air flooding my lungs and I’m alive. More alive than I’ve been in, well, in five years.

When I stop at the bottom, my heart’s racing and the smile is frozen on my face. But wait, where’s Rob? In my fear, and then my glee and elation, I forgot it was Rob’s first time on skis. I’m a horrible fiancée. I twist my head all the way around. Where is he?

I squint and squint until I finally make him out, near the top of the hill in a heap, skis pointing both upward and sideways. Uh oh.

It’s nearly ten minutes before Rob makes his way back down the hill to where I’m waiting.

“Thanks for ditching me,” Rob grumbles.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“Everything but my pride seems to be intact,” Rob says. “Thanks to the advice from this sweet little eight year old, here.” He gestures toward a girl in a purple ski suit with bunnies on it. “She’s been skiing for five years. Five. Years.” He shakes his head. “I’m guessing you want to go again?”

I nod and grin. “Maybe something a little harder this time.”

He sighs, but he tugs me toward the lift. I’ll be sure to finish right by it next time. “I’m thinking this may need to be a brother sister bonding thing from here on out. Because if you go up much harder runs, they’ll need to carry me down in a body bag.”

I laugh. “You’re so melodramatic.”

By the end of the day, Rob’s doing much better, and I’ve skied my first black diamond in five years. The feeling is inexplicable, like my first slice of cherry pie. Or my first time down a water slide. Or something better. It’s almost as good as the first time I ever kissed Rob.

And he brought me here. He made me do this.

“Brekka?” a voice from my past asks.

I turn and meet the eyes of my old coach, Rocket McKinnon. “Hey Rocket.”

His voice is just as craggy as it ever was, and his eyes crinkle up when he smiles in exactly the same way I remember. But he’s got more gray in his hair, and more lines criss-crossing his forehead. “You’re skiing again?”

I expected disdain, or judgment, or pity. All I see in Rocket’s eyes is exhilaration, excitement and joy.

I nod mutely.

“I would love to be your trainer. Please, please consider me. I know I haven’t coached any Paralympic athletes, but I was made for this, I swear.”

When Rob asked me to marry him, my heart swelled almost to the point of bursting. When I moved Nometry and myself to Atlanta, and I began to see the love of my life every day, my heart learned to live with an unbelievable level of joy, day in and day out. We picked out a house on the same road as Trig and Geo. I’ve been watching as Geo’s belly grows, and my love for Rob has grown right alongside it. Trig and Rob have even started having boys’ nights once a month so that Geo and I can have a girls’ night. I have no idea what they do, but there haven’t been any more black eyes or broken noses.

And now, a part of me that I thought had died and been buried springs back to life. I’m free in a way I never hoped to be free again. And my old coach, my old life, my old dreams are staring me in the face and asking me to come out and play. A Paralympic Athlete. Another shot at a gold medal.

“Yes,” I say. “I think I might like that.”

Rocket beams at me. “Girl, you and me are going to destroy these mountains, and there’s no limit to where we can go.”

He’s right. Rob tumbles down the mountain then, to stand at my side.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “It didn’t take me quite as long this time.” He brushes the snow off his hand and holds it out. “I’m Rob Graham, Brekka’s fiancé. Nice to meet you.”

Rocket shakes his hand. “I’m her old coach, Rocket McKinnon. I’ve asked her to let me coach her again.”

Rob beams at me. “Well, that’s wonderful. Did she agree to it?”

“She sure did. And I see great things ahead of us.” He turns toward me. “What finally got you back out here?”

I lean my poles against my sit ski and take Rob’s hand in mine. “When I broke my back, I thought my life was over. I let my dreams die, including my Olympic hopes. But Rob showed me that I’m as free as I choose to be. He helped me find my freedom again, and my peace with the world. He helped me find liberty.”

“Well, I saw you take that last run, and I owe you a big thank you, Sir Rob. I’ve never seen anyone with as much grace on the snow as your Brekka, and she hasn’t lost a bit of it. If anything, she looks surer of herself. Maybe we can all grab dinner and talk about some details.”

“I’d like that,” Rob says.

“I’ve been following you, you know,” Rocket says. “I’m sure you’re busy with your work stuff. But if we can find some time around that, I think you could get those gold medals yet.”

“I better get started designing a display case.” Rob grabs me and kisses me, right in front of Rocket and everyone else. “I love you my little kintsugi. I couldn’t possibly be prouder of you.”

“I know,” I say. “You helped free me, and then you went beyond that. Life took my legs, but you’ve given me wings.”

“I’m pretty tired from all this flying,” Rob says. “But I bet I have enough energy left for one more run. Want to show your old coach that you’ve still got what it takes to smoke him?”

Oh, how Rob gets me. “Absolutely, I do.”

And then with Rob at my side, or perhaps trailing a few hundred yards behind, I do it.

*THE END*


If you enjoyed the fourth book in The Finding Home Series, grab the FIFTH book, Paisley’s story, Finding Holly, which is out now.

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