Witching You Weren’t Snowed In (Witching You #2)

Chapter 10

Sage

You’re mine until Christmas.

The words echoed in my mind as I stared at my phone, examining the photo of Leo and I that ran in last week's paper. One thing was certain: my emotions were more tangled than a ball of Christmas lights left in the attic for too long.

Leo was doing it on purpose. He was twisting me up and making me confuse our bargain with something more. Maybe he thought it was funny or a way to pass the time until a better prospect came along.

Winning over the town means the villain transforms into Cold Spell's most eligible bachelor.

It was practically the premise for a hit reality show. Except I wasn't the girl who got the rose, but one of the behind-the-scenes producers who never had a shot in the first place.

Hadn't I learned my lesson the first time? I couldn't let history repeat itself, and I would not fall head over heels again for someone who wasn't serious.

I checked the calendar. There were only three weeks left until Christmas, and I was due in Wood Pine for my next case in a few days. Which meant I needed to secure the money for the rink, make sure my snowfall companion had hit the road for good, and then get out of town as soon as possible.

We’d made a nice dent with our first fundraiser and spent the last week collecting items from local businesses for an upcoming raffle at the lodge. We planned the event to boost attendance for my parents' afternoon tea reception and planned to offer a wide selection of finger foods alongside a few craft cocktails for people looking for something a little spicier than tea.

Preparing the menu for a large crowd had made my dad the happiest I’d ever seen him, and I felt confident the tea shop was in a good place after learning about its previous rough patch. Now that things were rolling, my presence at the next fundraiser wasn't required. Valerie was perfectly capable of working from my notes to finish organizing things.

Besides, there was still the not-insignificant problem of my fake award. Leo had given me one of his skiing trophies after the Santa event. It would make the perfect decoy, composed of a faceted crystal with an engraving which would be simple to alter. But I hadn’t mustered the courage to do it. The crystal ruse was currently stuffed under a pile of extra blankets in my bedroom closet.

With all the excitement around the skating rink, my achievement was yesterday's news. Let's hope it stayed that way for a couple more days until I made my escape.

I glanced again at the photo, then against my better judgment, I quickly saved it to my camera roll and flipped the device over so I wouldn't be tempted to stare at it some more.

Leo, dressed in an elf costume with his arms wrapped around me, was not this year's Christmas card—or any other year, for that matter! It belonged in the depths of my camera roll, buried under a mountain of cute cat photos.

Grabbing my notebook with the rest of my ideas, I went downstairs and found my parents eating breakfast.

“Want me to make you an egg?” Dad asked me as I filled a thermos with hot coffee.

“No. Toast is fine.” I snagged a piece slathered in jelly from the plate on the counter and stuffed it into my mouth.

“You're too skinny. Have an egg,” Mom said, studying me over the edge of her newspaper. “Betsy's granddaughter is a nutritionist. She says it’s important to start your day with protein.”

“I like to start my day with a donut.” Dad winked.

Mom folded the newspaper and set it next to her plate. “Don't encourage her, David.”

I counted to three, then forced a patient smile. “I don't have time for encouragement or an egg. I'm heading to the lodge to drop off my notebook to Valerie. I’m going to let her take over the next event. She’ll do a great job.”

Mom sipped her tea, then placed the cup gently back into the saucer. “Leo's assistant is very attractive. I wouldn't be surprised if something was going on between those two.”

“Suzanne,” Dad warned.

“What? It's only a matter of time. Everyone’s talking about it. Leo hasn’t dated a single woman since he returned home. True—he has been the town pariah, but that’s not the case anymore. And a man with his looks doesn’t stay on the market long. Imagine. The next wedding we have under the gazebo could be a Grayson wedding!”

I choked down the last bite of toast and chased it with a gulp from my thermos. The coffee tasted sour in my mouth. Leo wasn’t interested in Valerie. Was he? My mom lived to gossip, and that’s all it was.

Gossip that made my stomach burn.

“I have to go,” I said, slipping on my jacket and grabbing my bag.

The front door closed with more force than I intended, rattling in the frame. I scowled at the sky, noting the gray clouds gathering over the house.

“Don’t you dare snow,” I threatened.

A single snowflake drifted lazily from above and landed squarely on my nose.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Leo’s potential wedding under a newly minted gazebo didn’t matter when I was getting the heck out of Cold Spell. I’d finish my last case for the year, and then I’d take a real vacation.

To a beach on an actual tropical island.

With white sand and gorgeous men who deliver you drinks in a coconut.

Yeah—I was going to Fiji. Eat your heart out, Grayson .

When I forced my eyes back open, the storm clouds were gone, and I felt centered and ready to check flight schedules.

But first, the notebook. I requested a ride to the resort and got out in front of the lodge.

In the time since we'd announced the rink project, there'd already been an increase in visitors to the resort. Skiers sailed past on their way to the lift, and guests with luggage stacked at their feet waited to check into the hotel.

A bit of pride expanded inside my chest. I was good at my job. The proof was right in front of me. While this trip was mostly a lesson in futility mixed with a confusing Ghost of Christmas Past reenactment, there was one merit: sweet validation.

I climbed the steps to the lodge, bypassing the line at the reservation desk, and spotted Valerie with a giant marker, coloring in the bottom of a cardboard cutout thermometer. It was already halfway full.

“Hey, Sage!” She dusted her hands on her black dress pants and waved me over. “I updated our goal marker. What do you think?”

I eyed her critically, noticing her flawless complexion when I should have been looking at the thermometer. She had the kind of skin that doesn't need makeup. Her eyelashes were so long they should have their own zip code. And her hair bounced! My hair had never bounced. Tangled? Yes. Frizzed? Most definitely .

No. You will not get sucked into the swirling vortex that was the Cold Spell rumor mill. You will, however, buy a string bikini and wear it in Fiji.

This thought spiral was ridiculous and the direct result of my mother’s rampant gossip. Valerie was not my enemy, and neither was her perfect hair.

“I think the goal marker is a great idea. You’ll be over the top in no time. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?”

“Can you hold that thought?” Valerie unclipped the radio at her hip. “I have to check in with the housekeeping staff first. We're busier than usual. Why don’t we meet in the dining area in a half hour and then we'll talk?”

I nodded, clutching my notebook to my chest. Valerie capped the marker, then disappeared into a back room while I did a quick scan to make sure I wouldn’t run into Leo. Confident the coast was clear, I went to the dining area and snagged a table partially hidden by a giant Christmas tree.

It was snowing again, gently, so I crossed my fingers, hoping it was flurries already predicted in the forecast. Snow could fall without it being some messed up curse.

With a menu hiding my face, and the tree blocking line of sight, I prepared to hunker down for the next thirty minutes. I was afraid if Leo found out about my imminent departure, he’d try to convince me to stay. Then again, if he was romantically interested in Valerie, he might hip-check me out of the picture and gladly let her take over. They’d cuddle up next to my notebook full of ideas and make out .

My heart squeezed. This was why I needed to leave. My brain was the only thing looking out for the scarred organ inside my chest. Otherwise, my heart was ready to throw caution to the wind and play in the snow, hoping Leo wouldn’t slice his skis through it.

Thankfully, by the barest margin, my brain was still in charge.

The legs of the chair in front of me screeched across the hardwoods as someone slid into it. The scent of hot, greasy French fries hit my nose, and I peered over the edge of my menu, alarmed my brain had turned traitor too and was sending out brainwave signals alerting Leo to my location.

But it wasn’t Leo. It was his best friend from high school, Aaron Jacobs. The man who’d witnessed my humiliation the night Leo never showed for our date. He stuffed a French fry in his mouth as two more chairs slid back and Blair and Gretchen, the most popular girls from school, joined my table.

They were the trio of my nightmares, transformed into full-blown adults. I didn’t know if I was supposed to vault out of my chair before they hit me with a cutting remark, or greet them on common ground like we were old classmates who’d left the cliques of high school behind.

Unfortunately, because of my strategically placed spot at the table, the decision was made for me because I was literally stuck between a Christmas tree and a hard place.

“Sage Bennett, we thought that was you.” Blair leaned in her chair, pulling me into one of those stiff hugs where we barely touched. She smelled like vanilla shampoo and wore a sleek ski jacket and a pair of form-fitting soft-shell ski pants.

“Hi,” I said, frozen like a chipmunk in headlights.

Aaron grinned and ran a hand over his buzz-cut, then leaned back in the chair. “We wanted to come over because it’s been a long time since we last saw you. You're the talk of the town.”

“Yeah,” Gretchen cut in. “It’s good to see you, and we're glad you’re here.” She twisted a long brown lock of hair around her finger, flashing an expensive-looking gold bracelet studded with gemstones on her wrist. “We can’t believe how we acted in high school. So petty, right? We’re so embarrassed.”

Was this a trap? It felt like a trap. Still, these were Leo’s friends, and he’d come home looking for a clean slate. It was possible they felt remorse. The benefit of the doubt wouldn’t kill me, and if this went south, it was another reason proving I should leave town. Frankly, my brain needed all the evidence it could get.

“You’re right. That was a long time ago.” I closed the menu and looked out the window. The snow was still light. We were good.

Blair touched my arm, and I tried not to flinch. Old habits die hard.

“Have some fries. It’s a cheat day for me, otherwise, you’d never catch me eating fried food.” Blair reached for a fry and nudged the basket closer. “Consider it a peace offering with a side of ketchup.”

I chose a fry, reluctant to let my guard down, but it was fine. They didn’t spill ketchup on my clothes or laugh and tell me they’d spoiled the food. We finished the basket while Aaron joked about the time he’d tried to impress a girl while skiing, only to find out she was an Olympic medalist.

Gretchen tossed her hair back and threw her napkin into the empty fry basket. “We should get going before the line at the lift gets too long. You know, Sage, the three of us have this tradition where we go to the top of the mountain and take a photo. You should join us. It’s almost our five-year class reunion. Think about our photo on the big screen. Everyone will love it. We can catch up on the lift and ski down. It’ll be fun.”

I stuffed my hands in my coat pockets and shook my head, torn between apprehension and that feeling of being included by the cool crowd. I was surprised I’d recognized it. It had never happened before. Must be a universal emotion.

“I don’t have the right clothes and I haven’t skied in years. Maybe next time.”

“Nonsense,” Blair said. “It’s like riding a bike, and I have an extra pair of ski pants. We’re practically the same size.” She eyed me with suspicion. “Are you doing Keto, too? Because you look incredible.”

“No, I—”

“Then you have to tell us your secret.” Blair wrapped her fingers around my wrist and pulled me up. The girls whisked me back to their guest room, and the next thing I knew, I was wearing ski pants and a pair of designer sunglasses that Blair decided fit the shape of my face .

Blair and Gretchen talked nonstop around me, and I realized I’d stepped through the looking glass into a bizarre version of my life where I was just one of the girls. Maybe it was wrong, but it felt good.

Aaron waited for us outside. He took a pair of rented skis off the rack and steadied me while I snapped into the bindings, then he slung a muscular arm over my shoulder.

“Ready, Sage? You’re with me.”

I tried to wriggle from under his arm, but the movement made me almost fall over my skis. He tightened his grip and teased me over losing my balance. The falling snow stuck to my face, and I blinked against the onslaught. I needed to relax and try to enjoy this moment. Not ruin it by letting old fears get in the way.

“Hey, Aaron!” I heard Leo’s voice before I saw him.

I looked over my shoulder as Leo jogged toward us, his boots kicking up a layer of snow. His expression was dark, and he wasn’t wearing a jacket as if he’d left the warmth of the lodge in a hurry.

“What’s going on?” Leo’s gaze dropped to my skis and his jaw tightened.

“We’re taking Sage for a ski run. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for her lift ticket,” Aaron said. He still had his arm around me.

Leo angled his head to the side and towed me out from under Aaron's grip. We stopped a few feet away, and I leaned against my ski poles as an icy wind sailed past.

“This isn’t a good idea. I don’t think you should go,” he said.

“Why not? They’ re your friends.”

He hesitated, shifting his gaze toward Aaron. There was a strange tension between the two of them. “Because you’re out of practice, and I’m not able to go with you right now. I have a conference call I can’t cancel. Give me an hour and I’ll take you up.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter. We’ll stick to the easy slopes.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’d feel better—”

Aaron skied over and clapped Leo on the back. “Hey, man, don’t worry about Sage. I’ll keep an eye on her for you. The girls think it will be fun to get some pictures at the top of the mountain like we always do, and then we can all get a drink at the bar. We’ll save you a seat.”

“Ooh, shots. Last one to the lift is buying!” Blair knocked her ski poles together, then dug them into the snow before pushing off toward the chairlift. Aaron shrugged as he and Gretchen raced after her.

Leo held my arm, keeping me from skiing toward the lift. “Just be careful. Promise me you’ll stay off the black diamond trails.”

I brushed off his concern, poking him in the ribs. “No fair. You’re making me last. Now I have to buy drinks for your friends. Will you be happy if I promise to purchase top-shelf liquor?”

He ground his teeth. “The trails, Bennett. Promise me that.”

“Fine. Don’t worry so much. You taught me everything I know, remember?” I pushed off with my skis, then called over my shoulder. “Tell Valerie I’ll meet her after our run. Oh, and I left my notebook under the reservation desk. It has all my notes, so don’t throw it out unless you want an extremely angry witch on your hands.”

Gretchen and Blair caught the first lift, leaving me with Aaron. I grabbed onto the side of the chair as it lifted us off the ground, making my stomach lurch. I hated heights. The lift was a necessary evil, but I had never liked it, certain I'd fall off and end up in a mangled pile of skis and snow.

We climbed higher, my stomach knotting at the nearly thirty-foot drop.

“Whatever you do, don’t shake the chair.”

Aaron laughed. But this time, it was a low sound that made the back of my neck prickle.

“What? Like this?” He rocked forward in the seat, shifting his weight until the chair jolted. “Are you scared? You won’t fall.” He shook the chair again, seeming to take pleasure in my fear. I closed my eyes and held on. Leo might have been right. This was a bad idea.

Aaron leaned against me, crowding me to the edge of the chair. His heavy breath assailed my neck. “So, you and Leo are close again, huh? I’m surprised.”

“Why’s that?” I asked as the chair shuddered along the cable, cresting the tops of the trees. A cold feeling sank into my bones. I forced a smile and waved when Blair and Gretchen turned in their seat to look back at us.

“After what happened with you two, I assumed you’d stay away.” He angled his head closer. “People don’t change much, you know? ”

Yeah, I was starting to believe it.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea all over again. It’s nothing personal. It’s just the way it is.”

“No. I’m only helping Leo while I’m in town. I’m leaving soon. This week, in fact.”

“Good.” Aaron flashed his teeth. “Then we can have some fun while we’re here. Who knows when we’ll get another chance?”

The falling snow kicked into gear, and I brushed a layer off my ski pants when the lift reached the top. I stood as we hit the platform and skied down the small hill, following the two girls as they veered right.

They sailed past a group of trail signs, then twisted abruptly into a parallel stop, sending a wave of white powder into the air.

“I think the easier trails are that way,” I said, pointing with my pole.

“No, there’s a beginner trail that cuts through this section. It has an amazing view. We usually take our picture there.” Blair adjusted her goggles and angled her head toward a trail running through the trees. “Follow us.”

I weighed my options. I could go back the way we came and try to ski for the first time in ages all alone, or I could finish the run with them and head home when it was over. I definitely wasn't staying for a drink. Aaron had let his friendly mask slip on the lift. I didn’t want to be around when he took it off completely .

“Come on! It’s this way,” Gretchen shouted before she skied through the trees.

I huffed an icy breath and slid my skis forward. Twenty minutes and I’d be back at the lodge.

They waited for me in front of a trail sign after I slowed to a stop. Two black diamonds and the words, experts only, were painted on the sign. A dusting of snow obscured the trail name, but I didn’t need to read it to know it was ominous.

“I thought we were sticking with green circles.” I blocked the snow from my face and peeked over the ledge. It looked like a straight drop with moguls, funneling into a sharp turn leading deeper down the trail.

“Oh, please.” Blair curled her lip into a sneer. “If you wanted to take it easy, you shouldn’t have left the bunny slope. Wait—didn’t you take lessons with a bunch of children? That’s so lame. I think you need a new nickname.” Blair tapped her finger against her chin. “How about…Sage the Baby Mage.”

Gretchen let out bitter laugh. “What’s lame is thinking you can come home after a few years and think you’re one of us.”

I recoiled, pushing back on my skis to create distance. My throat burned. I should have known better. This was all a nasty trick. People don’t change. They get meaner.

“You look upset. Are you going to put a hex on me?” Blair taunted, crossing her ski poles like she was trying to ward me away.

Aaron skied between us and gave me a hard look before angling toward the slope. “Come on, let’s leave her here. The snow’s getting worse. We’ve had our fun. I’m ready for a drink.”

He took off down the slope, maneuvering expertly over the steep terrain, then vanished into the blinding snow.

“I guess we’ll see you at the bottom...or not. Remember to point your skis into a V and make a snowplow.” Blair’s lips trembled as she tried to restrain her laughter. She motioned to Gretchen and the two of them left me standing at the top of the slope.

I wiped away the snow pelting my face. The flakes melted and mixed with the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I swallowed a sob and felt my chest shudder. Now wasn’t the time to cry. Tears wouldn’t get me through this. They’d only make the snow worse.

So much for my sunny stretch. The curse was back. Had it ever left? Maybe it was bidding its time, letting me think a little self-care and a moving speech in the town square was enough to break the spell.

I tipped my skis toward the edge. There was no turning back. I had to figure it out on my own. Just go slow, make a V. I closed my eyes and imagined Leo standing next to me, coaching me down the hill. You got this, Bennett. I’ll pick you up if you fall.

Oh, I was going to fall. A lot. But I would pick myself up and get the heck out of Cold Spell.

A wall of wind and ice slammed into my face as if the storm had laughed and shouted back, “You’re staying right here!”

I slid a few inches at a time, scraping my skis against the hard-packed snow. My stomach twisted in knots and little dots danced in front of my eyes. I forced myself to focus, deep breaths, then slid a few more feet.

My skis slipped out from underneath me, and I landed hard, coasting a distance on my butt. It hurt, but it counted as progress. I stood back up and tried again.

This time, I made it about thirty feet before I fell. At this rate, I’d be here all night.

How long does it take to freeze to death? Probably just enough time to give me a shot at meeting the Grim Reaper. I clenched my teeth. I would not die on this mountain and have my obituary on the front page of the Gazette.

The article would read: She had a good run, winning a prestigious award. Then she died tragically at the hands of her high school bullies. Who went on to live an envied life of wealth and success. We never did get that photo of her award.

I scowled and clicked out of my skis. Forget this. I’d walk the rest of the way and someone could come back for my skis later. At least I wouldn’t break my neck.

Using my poles, I climbed to my feet and took my first couple of steps. The going was clunky in ski boots but manageable.

The snow had developed into a ferocious blizzard, falling in sheets of ice. I shivered and kept going, walking for what felt like hours without making much progress. No one else skied past, and with the weather like this, I was sure they had closed the lifts.

I was alone on the mountain. An allegory for what had amounted to my life.

Things were not fine or fantastic .

I pushed onward until a strange sound made me stop. Turning my head, I listened to the wind. Was that a crack? Another jagged sound sent fear spiking through my chest.

Looking back, I watched in horror as a section of snow broke free and barreled down the mountain straight toward me.