Never Too Late (32 page)

“You're crazy. You just skied into the path of an avalanche.”

“
I'm
crazy? When we get off this stupid hill, you're going to stop doing these insane things. I can't take it.” Then more quietly he said, “Aw, baby. You scared me so bad.”

“Sam, put me down. We should slide. Or roll.”

“We're going to do this, Sarah. I'm getting you down.”

“But it's so hard to see.”

“Then don't look. I know this hill,” he said. “You just hang on and try not to move, try not to throw me off balance.”

She buried her face in his jacket. There wasn't a wind and the air began to slowly clear. He pushed off the tree carefully, putting him out on the run. Heavier now with his burden and without the use of his poles, the soft snow nearly covered his skis and their progress down the hill was agonizingly slow. “I don't know what you were thinking,” he said. “Don't you know how much I love you?”

She kept her face buried against his chest. He nearly lost his balance once, but Sarah, trusting him, remained perfectly still as he straightened again.

“I know you need time to figure this out, but damn it, I can't live without you. It's too late for me to change course now—I need you. I've never…” He stopped talking as he wobbled slightly. “Halfway, honey. Stay still. That's my girl.”

She tightened her arms around his neck. “I never thought I'd have anything like this in my life,” he said. “If I lost you, I don't know what I'd do. You're my world, Sarah.”

The two ski patrols he'd left up top were making their way up the slope from the bottom on a snowmobile dragging a rescue toboggan. He met them halfway and
decided not to hand her over. “She's pregnant,” he said. “Bouncing down on the toboggan or snowmobile isn't going to cut it. Follow me down.”

“We gotta get off this hill,” one of them said.

He continued his slow, careful descent. “If you want to go ahead, I'll understand,” he told them.

They stayed behind him, braving another avalanche to pick them up if they fell. But Sam exercised all the caution he could muster, kept his speed slow and went carefully down the hill. “Almost there, Sarah,” he whispered. “Almost there.”

At the bottom of the slope he stopped. One of the patrols jumped off his snowmobile and stooped to pop off Sam's bindings. Sam stepped out of the skis and left the patrol to pick them up. He settled Sarah against his chest. Carrying her now on terra firma, he walked as quickly as he could away from the offending hill. The snowmobiles carrying the other patrols whizzed by, one with Sam's skis balanced over his shoulder.

“I can't believe you're doing this,” she said to him.

“And why can't you?” he asked. “You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I couldn't do anything else.”

Sam saw that the area had been evacuated and the skiers were all down, gathered around the lodge. An ambulance stood waiting, its red lights a strobe on the white hills. At the front of the crowd he made out Jason and Stan with Clare. “They made it down, honey. They're fine.” He headed for the lodge as quickly as he could.

“Thank God,” she said in a breath. She looked up at his face and said, “We're safe now, Sam. Put me down. I'm too heavy.”

“I'm not putting you down.” He kissed her forehead
as he walked. “God, I was scared to death.” He glanced at her tearstained face. “Is the pain terrible?” he asked her.

“I don't have any pain.” She touched his frosty cheek. “I love you, too. I can't live without you, either.”

He hugged her tighter. “Then why do you make me beg?” he asked.

“I like the sight of a good man groveling,” she said through her tears.

“Well, then you must be ecstatic. I'm completely desperate for you. All I want is to lie beside you every night for the rest of my life. Sarah, I love you so much.”

She put her hand against his cheek and just drank in his beautiful face. But Sam didn't hesitate—he didn't waste any time looking dreamily into her eyes. He made fast tracks toward the lodge.

There was a loud crack, a boom, and Sam turned back toward the dangerous slope to see the rest of the weak snow shelf let go and fall with explosive force to the hill below, its weight and girth crashing into the trees where only a few minutes before, Sarah had heard the words that made her life seem complete. The voices of the skiers gathered in front of the lodge rose as one in awe of the avalanche's power.

Sarah grabbed the front of Sam's jacket and gave it a hard yank to get his attention. She kissed him. Long and deep. Then she said, “Okay, then. Marry me. Right away. I want to do it now. Before you change your mind.”

“I'm never going to change my mind, baby,” he said. “Never.”

November

F
ootball games have a special significance, when you're in love with the coach. Plus, Clare considered Homecoming to be a kind of anniversary, even though it didn't fall on the same day as the year before when her love affair with Pete had come into full bloom. And what a year—so full and lush.

Many things had fallen neatly into place. Roger proved himself to be a dedicated parent, something he was better at now than during their marriage. Sam and Sarah brought into the family a son, Casey. Jason traded Stan for a young lady, Beth, who seemed to have a more positive impact on his manners, his grades, his appearance.

But for Clare, the highlight of the past year was learning about Pete all over again. He gave so much of himself, worked so hard, was so completely dedicated. He was greatly loved in the town, in the school, and not just during football season. The students and other teachers depended on him, the community took pride in him.
Rather than being boastful, he was humble. But he wasn't modest about his team, his boys—he brought them to victory after crashing victory and celebrated every win as if it were their first.

The entire McCarthy family, even Roger, sat in a tight, proud knot in the bleachers, right down front, for every game. George lived for them and even baby Casey was there, packed tightly against his father's chest, warm and snug in an infant sling. If Clare didn't know better she'd think they were all as proud of Pete as she. But that was impossible. She loved watching him in action; she loved it when he turned from the field, found her in her usual spot and smiled at her. And as she became known as his steady, his woman, his love, she glowed. It seemed as though their families, their friends, were as pleased as they were.

Watching the town light up at Homecoming held new excitement for her, for her man was at center stage. The electricity in the air, the exuberance of the teenagers, the fun and happiness that seemed to radiate through the whole town—it filled her up. Something about this brought her full circle—her life with him had begun in high school and although it had been derailed for a decade or two, when they rediscovered each other, the pure intensity of their new love made up for lost time.

Another Homecoming, another new year, another gathering of family, and she stood and cheered her lungs out at every good play, every touchdown. She shivered through her whole body when he turned her way and briefly, so briefly, met her eyes. She beamed with nostalgia when the floats came out at halftime, when the Homecoming King and Queen strutted their adolescent stuff in front of the bleachers, when the marching band claimed the field and blasted out their game music.

Then suddenly, she saw Pete standing in front of the bleachers, looking up at her. He was out of the locker room a little early; he usually didn't come back on the field with the team until after halftime. He stood, hands in his pockets, head tilted up, watching her, while behind him, the marching band played.

“Clare,” Maggie said from behind her. “Clare, look.” Maggie pointed over Clare's shoulder toward the scoreboard.

CLARE—MARRY ME!

It brought her slowly to her feet, her mouth open in surprise. She looked down at him and dipped her chin in a little nod.

Pete jogged toward the bleachers, grabbed the rail and hefted himself up and over. He reached for her hand, pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth in a powerful kiss. The fans erupted in a loud and wild cheer. He didn't let go quickly; for all the heat in his kiss, they might have been alone. When he did release her lips, he hung on to her still and whispered, “I'll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Of course, yes.”

“Good. See you after the game.”

He kissed her again, more quickly. He jumped over the bleacher rail and ran back toward the field, his arms stretched up over his head just as his team came running out.

On the scoreboard it flashed, SHE SAID YES!!