Page 6 of A Bear Ski Instructor Christmas (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain)

“My Mum Kicked Saddam Hussein’s Butt”

Snow, snow, so much snow…

Rachel thought Melinor looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Then again, Rachel hadn’t seen many Hallmark movies. She’d always found them too cheesy for her liking. But as she and Reba walked through the village, she found herself falling more and more in love with the place. It wasn’t anything like a regular, modern village, but it was certainly a breath of fresh air compared to her two-day struggle alone on the mountain.

She couldn’t help noticing more little details about Reba, like the tiny wrinkles around the edges of her brilliant eyes and the corners of her mouth or the older woman’s stature, which, though agile, had some rigidity to it. The way she walked made Rachel wonder if the woman hadn’t been in the military in the past.

“Good job over there!” Reba called to a bunch of kids thirty feet to their left who were building a large snowman. “He looks lovely!”

The children looked up from their work and saluted in response, little grins on their faces.

Yep. Definitely military.

“Bless their precious hearts,” Reba muttered as they continued walking. “Sometimes I forget I used to be one of them, you know?” The woman shifted her gaze to Rachel and grinned. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions.”

Yes. Where am I? How did I get here? Why’s there a village on a mountain like this? And when do I get to see Michael?

Be patient, she told herself.

What would Diane say?

Remember to breathe.

Rachel almost scoffed. When she thought about it, it sounded pretty dumb to be paying hundreds of dollars to a shrink just to teach you how to respire, not that the 5-7 -3 technique in which you inhale for a count of five, exhale for a count of seven, and pause after the exhale for a count of three, hadn’t been helpful to her in the past.

She decided to take her time. “Where is this place? This mountain, I mean. I’ve never heard of it.”

The mirth slowly drained out of Reba’s smile. “That’s no surprise. Frost Mountain isn’t a part of your world—well, the world you come from. You arrived here by accident.”

“Yeah, actually. Our plane crashed.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you survived.”

“Barely.” Rachel frowned. “Wait, what do you mean this place isn’t part of my world? I don’t—”

“Frost Mountain isn’t just a mountain. It’s a dimension separate from the world you know. I’m sure you already noticed something wasn’t right about this place, right? Like the fact that you got here all of a sudden. How does a mountain appear out of nowhere?”

“A dimension.” Reba had to be bullshitting her. That was the sort of stuff you heard about on TV. And yet… “You mean…I’m not on Earth anymore?”

The look on the woman’s face gave her all the answers she needed.

“Holy…” A pang filled her stomach as the implication of Reba’s words settled into her mind. If the woman was telling the truth, then… “Is this some kind of science-fiction thing?”

“No,” the woman said, and with utmost seriousness, she added, “it is magic.”

Rachel froze in her tracks in time for a snowball to whiz past the bridge of her nose. She glimpsed a few children chasing each other around the side of a building, lumps of snow in their small hands. She heard their giggles as if from a mile away, inconsequential against the startling information she’d just learned.

“Magic,” she repeated.

“You sound surprised,” Reba remarked. “You’re an elf, are you not?”

Rachel nodded, subconsciously reaching up to check if her ears were visible. The people here didn’t seem too fazed by her. No doubt, a lot of them were also supernaturals like Michael. That had to mean they were okay. Not that it made her want to leave here any less. The second she got to Michael, she’d remind him of who she was, and they’d leave this mountain, or dimension, or whatever the heck it was.

“That’s great,” she said. “But I’ve got to get back to Vegas. I need to let Sam know I’m okay. And I’m taking Michael with me.”

A sad smile played on the older woman’s lips. “You’re not the only one who wants to return to that world, Rachel. If only it were possible…”

Something about the tone of her voice filled Rachel with unease. “What are you talking about?”

Reba said nothing at first but resumed walking, and Rachel had to double her pace to catch up with her. Feeling a shiver race through her body that she doubted had much, if anything, to do with the cold, she asked again, “What do you mean?”

“The only reason you’ve never heard of Frost Mountain until now is that no one who’s entered this dimension has ever escaped from it. Your plane breached a portal leading here; it’s the reason you crashed. But you’re not the first, as I’m sure you’ve already deduced. There are several portals all over your world, with openings leading to Frost Mountain. People breach them by accident all the time, stumbling into this dimension with no idea where they are or how they got here.”

Rachel felt her eyebrows knit together in contemplation. “If there are portals, why don’t they just go back through them?”

The older woman glanced in her direction. “I’m sure you can figure that one out yourself, dear.”

She thought for a moment. “Wait…you’re saying the portals only go one way?”

“You are as intelligent as you are beautiful.”

Too stunned to be even the least bit bothered by the compliment, Rachel let the comment pass. “I don’t understand. What is this place?”

“It’s a prison,” Reba told her solemnly. “One that has been in existence for hundreds of years. Frost Mountain is designed to trap its inhabitants. You may have noticed already that there doesn’t seem to be a bottom.”

Rachel nodded slowly.

“I’m afraid this mountain is all that there is. The mountain is the dimension. Nothing more, nothing less. Frost Mountain is the offspring of a war that raged centuries ago between witches and shifters. You can guess who won that war.” The woman gave a stiff shrug. “The shifters were trapped here as a punishment. The problem is, they’re not the only ones who’ve had to deal with the consequences.” She spread her arms wide. “There are many portals leading into Frost Mountain. Not a single way out. This place has been taking permanent guests since before the French Revolution. For many, this is the only home they know. They were born here, and like others, they, too, are prisoners.”

Reba paused and walked on in silence, allowing the information to really sink in. Rachel suppressed another shudder as the reality of her situation hit her in waves. She was trapped here. There was no returning to Vegas, no getting back to Sam. Whatever this place was, she’d taken a one-way trip when she boarded that flight.

And that wasn’t all. If everything Reba had just told her was true—and Rachel doubted the old woman had any use for lies—then Michael’s disappearance years ago hadn’t been intentional. She’d always thought there was something odd about the fact that he’d simply gone off the radar. He hadn’t walked out on her; he’d simply gone missing. And lost his memory somehow.

Rachel resisted the urge to smack her forehead. She’d slapped him earlier after she realized he was still alive. In her defense, it was a perfectly normal reaction to finding out your long-lost boyfriend was having a fun time skiing down some mountain after you’d bawled your eyes out years ago, thinking he was probably dead.

Whenever she got to see him again, she owed him an apology. And maybe another kiss. God, she’d almost forgotten how amazing it felt to lock lips with that man. She’d been unable to control herself, and it had taken every fiber of her resolve to extricate herself from his ever-gentle touch. Left to her whims, she might have ended up beneath him in the snow.

She tried to suppress the whirlpool of emotions that welled up inside her as a thought occurred to her. “What about you? You come from my world, too, don’t you? You sound like you do.”

Reba gave a tiny smile as they rounded a bend into another street. “I do, actually. I served in the military in ’91, around the time that bastard Saddam Hussein sank his claws into Kuwait.”

“You mean the Gulf War?”

The woman waved her hand dismissively. “I was a pilot in the war. One of the few women who managed to get into aerial combat at the time. It was kept secret, of course—Bush himself authorized us to join Operation Desert Storm.

“The mission was going great. Knocked out Iraqi supply lines for days. And then it happened. There I was, just shooting over the enemy’s forces, and the next thing I knew, the air turned funny around my jet, and everything spun upside down. Before I could right the jet, I’d crashed on Frost Mountain. I thought I was going to die, but someone pulled me out of the wreckage before the tank exploded.”

She chuckled, but Rachel could see the flicker of sadness in her eyes. A wave of disbelief and pity washed over her. This woman had been stuck on this mountain for over thirty years. Long enough to have adjusted to the harsh conditions here. Long enough to have a daughter of her own. Like Rachel, she’d arrived here purely by accident, and she was paying for it with years of her life, years that could’ve been spent living comfortably in some apartment in the heart of Boston. Hell, her daughter could’ve grown up telling everyone in school, “ My mom kicked Saddam Hussein’s butt.”

Not to mention, the woman had obviously dealt with a lot of trauma. There was no telling what horrors she’d witnessed during the war. Getting sucked into this dimension had to have been just as terrifying. Rachel found herself nursing the hope that Diane would somehow find her way onto Frost Mountain, too. Both she and Reba, and she suspected most other people in this village, could use a therapist session right about now.

A question prodded the back of her mind. “I’m guessing you founded this village?”

“Me? Not at all. Melinor was in existence long before I came along.” She slowed her pace, sweeping her gaze around the snow-filled village and its inhabitants. “Interestingly enough, it was the village chief at the time who found me. Darius was a kind man, a bear shifter like me, and he brought me into his home without any trouble. I spent some time in Melinor, trying to process everything that had happened before I decided to accept my situation and move on.

“Long story short, I fell in love with Darius. A few years before he died on a hunting trip, we had a child together.”

“Elena.” The image of the woman who’d been watching over her in the cabin flashed in Rachel’s memory.

Reba nodded. “When he passed, I took over as chief of Melinor. When I am gone, Elena will take my place, and so on.”

Rachel tried to picture a lifetime on this mountain, in this village, where everyone seemed so jolly and seemed to love Christmas. It was peaceful as far as she could see, but that didn’t make the idea any less strange. How had Michael been here for the past three years?

Come to think of it, his time here had definitely changed him. Those grey eyes and that charming smile of his remained the same, but he’d certainly aged a bit, not that it took anything away from his attractiveness.

“So…Michael…” she began.

“Ah, yes.” The old woman nodded. “A good man. Excellent at skiing. Teaches some of the villagers from time to time. And he’s quite the craftsman.”

“Yeah,” Rachel replied, not at all surprised. “You said he doesn’t remember me. That’s…”

“Crushing? I don’t know how it must feel not to be recognized by your lover, but I know that pain doesn’t last forever.”

Rachel blinked. “Wh-what? I never said Michael was my—”

“Oh, please.” The woman’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “You think I can’t tell when a woman like myself is head over heels in love? Why, I’ve seen the same look in my daughter’s eyes when…” She trailed off, the humor on her face waning. “Look, you just need to be patient. I’m really sorry about your situation, but give it time. I’m sure Michael will come around.”

A sigh parted Rachel’s lips. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am. I do hope you’ve learned a thing or two from our conversation.”

Yeah. Old ladies with Air Force history are kinda cool.

“I have.”

Her hand flew to her necklace pendant. She thought of him hammering away in that workshop and felt a pang of longing, but she managed to stifle the urge to turn around and run back to meet him. They’d been separated for three years already. What was a little more time? It wasn’t like either she or Michael were going anywhere any time soon. She could be patient, but she wasn’t going to give up until Michael Malone remembered who the heck she was.