Page 19 of A Girl Like Janet

“Well?” Reese continued, unaffected by her tears. “Answer me. What are you doing on Priest Creek?” A hard mask stole over

his face, tightening the handsome features.

Janet raised a gloved hand to her face and wiped the moisture from her cheek. “I’m skiing,” she muttered and released her

breath with quivering slowness.

“Skiing?” Reese responded with an underlying tone of cynicism. “From what I’ve witnessed I can assure you that you are not

skiing.”

“All right,” Janet snapped. “So I’m not an Olympic hopeful.”

“An Olympic hopeful?” he breathed in deeply as if to gain control of his anger. “I have seen cartoons of Donald Duck skiing

with more finesse than you.”

“Wonderful,” she said and sniffled. “Go watch cartoons. I don’t need you; someone from the ski patrol will be along any minute.”

Standing like a warlord above her, Reese grew dark and forbidding.

“Go on,” she prompted. “Leave me alone.” Her chin tilted at a proud angle, Janet felt safe. Reese wouldn’t really abandon

her. Not when he recognized what precarious straits she’d gotten herself into.

Reese made a movement as if to leave and Janet watched, stunned. Only moments before she had been desperately praying for

help. Now she was sending the only available rescuer away. It was pride that had gotten her into this mess. A verse from Proverbs

shot through her mind: “Pride goes before destruction, and an arrogant spirit before a fall.” In this case the words could

be translated literally.

A group of skiers whipped past them, kicking up the champagne-quality snow. Janet turned her face aside. Before she had the

chance to say another word, Reese dug his ski poles into the snow and went around her. “Sorry, I was mistaken. I thought you

were in trouble.”

Frantically she called after him. “Reese, please...” Moisture filled her eyes as she helplessly watched him ski around

the curve and disappear. “Oh no, now you’ve really done it, Janet Lynn Montgomery.” She slammed one of her ski poles into

the snow and inhaled a shaky breath.

Carefully she began again, making her descent as slow as possible, yet realizing it would be necessary to build up her speed

to make it over the moguls. Another skier flew past her.

“Help,” she called out as loud as she could. “Please, won’t someone help me?” Each word dwindled in volume until the last

word was almost a whisper.

She took another tumble as soon as she made it around the first curve. Stunned, she lay in the snow, catching her breath.

With deliberate care she tested her arms and legs to be sure she was all right.

Sitting up, Janet looked around her for help. What did people call when they needed assistance.

“Help!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. Her call was immediately lost in a huge vacuum of quiet. “Help,” she repeated,

cupping her hands alongside of her mouth, hoping to increase the range of her urgent voice.

She waited. Nothing.

Groaning, Janet lay back in the snow and in childlike fashion moved her arms back and forth to form angel’s wings.

Another skier approached. “Help,” she called again, sitting up and waving her arms above her head.

Nothing. Whoever it was didn’t so much as glance her way. Uncaring nerd! Janet thought unkindly. Analyzing her situation,

she realized that if anything, she was worse off than before. Obviously no one cared. Screaming for help was getting her nowhere.

Janet could see someone else approaching in the distance. Desperate straits demand desperate measures. Waving her hands, she

screamed as loudly as possible, “Medic!”

A familiar deep-throated chuckle sounded below her. The terrain was so steep that Reese had been only a few feet down the

slope from her and she hadn’t been able to see him.

“Reese,” she cried out, relief filling her voice. With a supreme effort she managed to clumsily stand up again. “Oh, Reese,

is that you? I’m sorry, don’t go... please don’t leave me.”

Sidestepping up the run toward her, Reese quickly came into view. “Are you willing to admit you need me?” The anger was gone

from his eyes, replaced with a teasing glitter.

“Yes, oh yes.”

He stood almost directly in front of her. “This is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Janet Montgomery.”

Her long, dark lashes fluttered downward. Her pride was gone, crumbled and shattered with the last spill. At this point, Janet

decided, she didn’t care what she had to admit as long as she got off the mountain alive. “I do ski like Donald Duck.”

Only a second passed before the tantalizing brush of his mouth over hers caught her unaware and Janet lost her balance. Her

hands flew out to her side as she started to fall backward. In a futile effort to steady her, Reese reached out to prevent

the inevitable and was propelled into the snow with her. Dazed, they stared into one another’s eyes for a long moment.

“You okay?” Reese questioned, positioned above her, his hands braced on either side of her face.

“Sure.” Her mouth curved into a rueful smile. “What’s one more tumble when I’ve experienced so many?”

Reese smiled, but seemed reluctant to move. His gaze roamed over her face, and for an instant all time came to a screeching

halt. Slowly he lowered his head, kissing first the corner of her eye, then her cheek, and her nose, finally reaching her

soft, parted mouth.

Janet moaned, accepting his kiss. Nothing had ever been so sweet, so beautiful. So wonderful.

Gradually Reese raised his head, his eyes filled with the same wonder Janet was sure was a reflection of her own. Removing

his glove, Reese lightly caressed her cheek. His touch spread an encompassing warmth that reached deep within her heart.

When his mouth closed fiercely over hers, Janet couldn’t contain the small welcoming sigh. Her blood pounded in her veins,

keeping pace with the frenzied beat of her heart.

“No... no,” she whispered urgently and jerked her face away from him. How could she forget so easily? How could she allow

him to do this to her again? Only a few minutes before he had been kissing Bunny with the same abandon. Janet didn’t need

to be told she was only a convenient distraction.

His breathing irregular and slightly ragged, Reese raised his head and removed his imprisoning hands. His lean fingers were

buried into the shoulders of her thick red jacket as he aided Janet into a sitting position beside him. They didn’t speak

for several long, grating moments.

“Are you ready?” Reese asked as he stood.

Janet looked away, afraid her feelings would radiate from her face. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Her voice was hoarse and aching.

He talked to her for several minutes, giving her instructions. He would go first and she must follow, doing exactly as he

did. Working together, they would arrive safely at the bottom of the run. Janet wished she felt as confident as Reese sounded.

He took off ahead of her and Janet did her best to imitate his moves. It wasn’t easy, although she went farther than before

without falling. Several hundred feet later she missed a turn and plowed into the snow. Quickly she sat up and attempted to

balance herself so Reese could see she wasn’t hurt.

Gradually, he sidestepped his way back to her side.

“Are you hurt?” he called, the timbre of his voice rocking over her.

“No... I’m fine,” she muttered and breathed shakily.

Halfway down the run she took another spill, losing one ski and a pole.

Reese retrieved them for her, bringing the equipment back and snapping her boot to the skis. “We’re going to make it. You’re

doing great.”

Janet attempted a weak laugh. “You don’t tell a woman who’s looking death in the eye that she’s doing great.”

A frown marred his brow. “I mean it.”

Janet couldn’t doubt the sincerity, although she found it amusing.

“Janet, look at me,” he ordered.

She couldn’t do as he asked. “I’m frightened,” she whispered.

“I know, but I’ll get you down if I have to toss you over my shoulder and haul you myself.”

“I’m sure I’ll reach the bottom. The question is: Will I be dead or alive?” Her laugh was breathless.

“Alive,” Reese said with crisp confidence.

It wasn’t easy. There was never a moment that Janet felt completely safe until the Village Inn was in view.

Gail was outside pacing back and forth, forming a path in the snow as she waited for her. A worried frown creased her smooth

brow. “You idiot,” she muttered angrily the minute she reached Janet. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Reese intervened. “Take her back to your room and see that she takes a hot bath.”

Gail’s look was narrowed and testy as she turned around to glare at Reese. “As far as I’m concerned this is all your doing.”

“Gail.” Janet choked with embarrassment and quickly leaned down to remove her skis.

Her friend’s fiery gaze shot from one to the other. She looped her arm through Janet’s and directed her toward the Village

Inn. “You must have been frightened out of your wits.”

Janet sighed expressively. “You don’t know the half of it.”

A half hour later Janet was relaxing in the tub, her head resting against the white porcelain back as the hot water soothed

her aching muscles. In a dreamlike state, she remembered the feel of Reese’s mouth over hers. Tentatively her wet fingers

outlined her lips. It was so difficult to believe that Reese had been anything but candid when he kissed her. The aching look

in his eyes had confirmed as much. And yet she knew better. Desperately she wanted to believe Reese really did feel something

for her, but to do so was utter foolishness. What Gail had said months before returned to haunt her. Janet was convinced that

Reese was sincere and Gail had reminded her that was what each one of his women assumed. Perhaps he was one of those men who

could never love only one woman. As soon as the thought was formed, Janet recognized the truth. There would always be women

in Reese’s life and always more than one.