Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) (19 page)

John and Shayla
packed the glorious day with run after run, crisscrossing their way to peak
nine, where they stopped and ate lunch. Making their way back across three
mountain peaks, they found the girls and two very handsome men from ski patrol
waiting at the base of the super chair.

After JC exchanged
numbers with one of the young men, they all caught the lift for one last run. JC
filled the ride with chatter about the boys she’d met, seeming hopeful to have
dinner with the one she’d just given her number to.

John remained
somewhat quiet regarding his sister’s harmless flirting, uttering a few scoffs.

Shayla was thrilled
to see a blue sign reading Spruce Alley, thankful their last ride wasn’t
another black diamond. Most of the skiers and boarders had already packed it
in, leaving only a few catching the last runs of the day. Massive green spruce
trees bordered the narrow pass. The echoes of their voices and the carving of
their boards carried through the trees. Shayla relaxed back into her heels,
squeezing every ounce of enjoyment out of their last run.

Halfway down the
mountain, they paused at the tree line to take in the gorgeous view of the city
below.

John pointed to a
double chair lift at the intersection of the main run.

“Hey, we’ll meet you
at the bottom. Shayla and I are gonna take one more run,” John called out to
his sisters. The tone in his voice gave a warning that wasn’t an invitation.

Shayla started to
tire and sighed, glancing toward the chair.

A soft smile tugged
at the corner of his mouth. “It’s Lover’s Lane.”

“In that case...”
Shayla smiled and pushed off, meeting him at the chair.

They were the last
riders of the day. The chair bumped the back of her legs and she sat back,
snuggling in beside him. The chair gradually lifted them high above the snow-covered
ground, carrying them through a cut channel of tall trees. The sun set behind
the larger peaks to the west, casting a grey shadow over the snow.

She peeled off a
glove and unsnapped her helmet. Sticking to her chair routine, she blew her
nose and applied a minty balm to her dry lips, kissing him softly to share the
creamy relief. “What a great day.”

“What a great
week
.” John closed his eyes and inhaled
deeply, then blew out his breath in a cloudy whisper of air.

The tension of the
cable hummed and creaked, transporting them higher toward the peak. Bows of the
spruce trees whispered and groaned as a gust eddied between them, swirling the
snow from the branches.

Shayla let her head
fall back, leaning against his shoulder, taking in the still sounds of Mother
Nature.

“Shay?” He reached
for her bare hand, clasping it in his.

“Hmm?” Her lashes
remained shut and she smiled, happy in her moment of solitude, thankful he’d
suggested the ride.

“Do you ever just
know when something is right?” he asked softly.

Shayla opened her
eyes, peering up into his handsome face. Her hand crept up, brushing the snow
crystals from the short hairs of his beard above his lip. “You mean that tranquil
feeling of calm inside?”

“Umm hmm.”

“Feelings of an emotion
you just can’t put your finger on, or give a word to?” She let out a tiny
chuckle. “That feeling that might make you cry for no apparent reason.”

His eyes held a
small smile, but his mouth held firm. “Yes.”

“There’s a
possibility I might have acquired this capability recently,” she teased, gazing
up at him, wanting him to kiss her.

He let go of her
hand and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. Pinched between his
fingers, he held a ring. John stared at the white gold band, topped with a
gorgeous diamond.

Shayla’s heart
stopped as she stared at the beautiful stone glittering in the setting sun. A
warm feeling of adoration and protection fell over her like the hushed silence blanketing
the forest that surrounded them.

John shifted his
intense focus back to her. Shayla stared back, mesmerized by the love swirling
in his green eyes.

“This is the ring my
father gave to my mother over twenty-five years ago.” Pools welled in his eyes.

She watched his
chest rise and fall beneath to open zipper of his ski jacket. Hot tears
streamed down her frigid cheeks.
 

John cleared his
throat. “This ring represents a lifetime of a great love, a magical love that I
only hoped to know and understand one day. Today is that day, Shay. I don’t
need time to decipher if you’re the one. You
are
the one.” He smiled as tears gathered at the corner of his
lashes. “My dad used to tell me the story of the very first time he saw my mom.
God, he loved her. I’d heard it so many times that I always wondered if it was
just a silly story, until I walked onto that airplane.”

“I was so mad at you
for beating up Tommy.” Shayla’s chest jumped as she giggled. She saw a flash of
his white smile though her tears.

“Shay, you are the
woman of a lifetime. My lifetime.”

She nodded blindly.
“Our lifetime.”

“Marry me, Shayla?”
He stroked the tears from her face. “Come home with me, we’ll get a place, get
married, start a life together, travel, get a dog”—he pressed his
forehead to hers—“make babies. I want to do it all with you.” John
cradled her face with the ring still in his fingers. Throwing his head back, he
yelled through the canyon, “Shayla Clemmins, will you marry me?”

“Just so you have a
great ending for our story when you tell it to our kids,”—she raised her
chin to the sky—“yes! I will marry you, John Mathews!”

John slipped the
timeless engagement ring on her finger and took her mouth in a toe curling
kiss. They remained lip-locked until it was time to get off lift.

As they slipped off
the chair, the ski attendant standing at the warming hut waved with a big smile.
“Congratulations! Have a great run!”

“Thank you!” John
and Shayla waved back, beaming with pride as they dropped off to one side of
the slope to strap their boots into their boards.

He brought her face
to his, smiling and kissing and crying at the same time. “Let’s get out of
here.”

A loud, thunderous crack
followed by a
whumpf
startled them.

Time turned in slow
motion as John’s lashes closed and opened. His green eyes, swathed in terror,
locked to the loud sound of snapping trees coming from behind.

“Strap in, Shay.
Strap in, baby.” His desperate commands muffled as her pulse turned wild, rioting
through her veins. Each of them bent, fingers working desperately to get her
boot locked. “Fuck, strap in!”
 

Shayla’s head twisted
and she caught sight of the fear in his eyes. Her perception of time slowed,
stretching out the scene hurtling toward them. “I can’t! Just go! I’m trying—”

The snow moved,
collapsing beneath them, and suddenly John was gone.

Shayla was swept
away in a wall of white and darkness with no time to react. The wave of white bore
down, leaving them at the mercy of the avalanche. Thrown to her belly from the
force of the snow, her instinct to swim kicked in. Her arms paddled, trying to
find the surface, but her movements flailed aimlessly in the heavy slabs and
dense powder.

Her board broke free
from her boot. Shayla’s brain kicked into survival mode masking the pain with
adrenaline. She lost a glove, floundering to grab at what she thought was a
tree. Chunks of sliding snow, rocks and debris from branches washed downward
with her. Shayla tumbled through the dark, searching, struggling, fighting for
air.

The slide slowed. She
frantically fought to stay with the daylight. As the heavy snow came to a stop,
the only part of her body that would move was her right hand. Terror sharpened
her perception, and Shayla spastically scooped snow away from her mouth. Adrenaline
and fear jolted through in waves of panic. She managed to scoop enough snow
from her face, creating a small opening. There was no escape, her movements
restricted, she was locked in place.

She screamed toward
a small hole of sky. “Help!”

For a split second
she was overcome with joyous gratefulness, able to breathe and be alive, but
then Shayla was hit by a second wave, a wave of fear.

John.

All of the thoughts of
a happy family that flashed before her just moments ago on the chairlift turned
to fear. Dreams of a lifetime of love felt lost to fate.

Shayla had stopped
praying for divine intervention at fourteen after her father broke through her
locked door and beat the hell out of her mother, but without hesitation she
prayed now.

Please don’t take him. Oh, God, please don’t
take him. Not now.

Sick fear coiled in
her stomach. Her shrilling voice tore through the air as she screamed for him.
She couldn’t hear anything with snow packed tight around her.

A shadow moved
across her speck of sunlight. She heard a muffled voice calling for her.

“John! I’m here!” she
cried as the shadow blinded her view of the sky. She felt him digging
frantically to free her from the freezing tomb.

The garbled voice
became more coherent as the hole got bigger and the snow came away from her
ears. “We’re gonna get you out. Hold on, lady!”

Lady?

The bitter cold snow
cleared from around her head, as a man shoveled desperately around her.

“Where’s John? I’m
with a man. Where is he?” Her head thrashed as she shrieked. “John!”

“Stay calm. Ski
patrol is on the way. We’ll find him. I’m going to get you out.”

Her arm came completely
free and he dug on the other side.

She lay twisted
sideways. “Did you see him? Can you hear him? Leave me! Go find him!”

The man’s voice
remained firm, talking in labored huffs as he dug. “We’ll find him.”

Shayla heard snowmobiles
getting closer. Commands and orders yelled between several men and a woman.
Where did you last see him? Over there, get
your poles!
The rumble of the engines started and they took off down the
hill, toward the trees, flanking the run they were getting ready to take.

“Go find him! Leave
me! Save him!” she shrieked. Hysteria frayed at the edge of her voice. Frustration
turned to desperation as she wept small cries of fear. “Please! Please, go help
them. I can dig myself out! I need him.”

“The sun is going
down and I’ve got to get you out of here before you go into hypothermia.”

Her vision blurred
with freezing wetness, all she could see was the flash of his red jacket, each
time he shoveled. His voice remained flat. “You need to stay calm. You’re
bleeding from somewhere. Where do you hurt?”

Her mind slowed. Red
snow fanned behind him as he shoveled. She tried to process and locate any
pain. There was no pain, only numbness. She shook her head.

Another snowmobiler
arrived on scene and he began digging around her. Shayla recognized him from
the bottom of the hill. She reached for him, but searing pain shot through her
left arm. Shayla wailed in agony, cradling her arm. Her heart worked in frantic
beats. The echo pounded in her eardrums, robbing her of sound.

“My name is Scotty.
We’re gonna get you to the hospital. You’ve got a compound fracture. What’s
your name?”

“Shayla Clemmins.”

Overcome with
fatigue and weakness, her pulse slowed. They freed her from the snow, but her
limbs wouldn’t work. Within seconds the arm of her jacket was cut off and a
splint covered her left arm. They strapped her to a toboggan and covered her
with blankets.

“I know you. Call
JC.” Shayla pleaded in a hushed voice as they worked over her methodically. “The
girl you were talking to…at the bottom of the hill…it’s her brother. Please
call her.”

He took her pulse. Scotty
scanned her face. She saw a muscle twitch near his eye. “What’s his name?”

“John Mathews. Call
her please.”

He gave a quick nod.
“I’ll call her on the way down.”

Shayla didn’t
remember much of the ride, only the smell of fuel from the snowmobiles and the
bitter cold claiming stake to her body. An ambulance waited, and so did Tracy
and JC.

Light headed and
dizzy, Shayla slipped in and out of consciousness, only able too make out bits
and pieces of the conversation. She heard the words
she’s in shock
and
we’re
still looking
.

Fearing the worst, Shayla
sobbed in anguish. “I’m so sorry. I told him to go.”

Tracy came to her
side as the paramedic took her blood pressure.

“I couldn’t get my
strap on. He was trying to help me.” She swallowed against the nausea.

“Don’t you dare.
Don’t you dare think like that, Shayla. He needs you to stay strong right now.”
Tracy got right in her face. Her eyes welled with fierce devotion for her
brother. Tracy’s hot tears dripped on Shayla’s face, stinging her freezing
cheeks. “My brother loves you more than life itself. All he cares about, right
now at this very minute, while he’s buried under the snow, is if you’re alive!”

Shayla nodded, her
head listing against Tracy’s as to hug her. “I’m so scared.”

“Don’t you dare give
up on him. He needs to come home.”

“You’re right. I
know he’ll make it.” Shayla’s mouth trembled. “He has to come home. We’re
getting married.”

“He mentioned it a
dozen times.” JC appeared at her side, forcing a smile through tears of utter
devastation. “My brother won’t let you down. Ever. He’s alive. They’re going to
find him in time. I just know it.”

The paramedic
ushered them out, slipping an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

Tracy backed away,
climbing out of the ambulance.

JC took her place
for a brief moment, her eyes glimmering with wetness. She spoke to her real
quietly, like a small child. “He’s alive. I can feel it. But you need to
believe
it, Shay. You need to talk to
him,”—JC tapped her temple—“in here. Talk to him. I know he’ll hear
you and he needs you right now. Let him know you’re alive. Tell him to fight.”

JC was pulled from
her sight.

The ambulance doors
slammed shut, and so did her eyes. Consumed with agony and pain, Shayla slipped
into shock. Pictures of John’s face floated through her consciousness like a
wave of water. The memories of John’s laughter mixed with the sound of garbled
voices and beeping monitors. Shayla drifted in and out of awareness, drugged by
the morphine dripping through her veins. She was coherent enough to answer
questions the nurses and doctors asked, but she talked to John as if he were
right there in front of her. Shayla told him how much she loved him and needed
him. She dreamed of their future. The scent of his skin drifted into the bitter
taste of antiseptic.

****

“Do you want more
ice chips?” came a soft female voice.

Shayla’s eyes
clamped shut, heavy from sedation. She nodded and opened her mouth. The light
touch of icy fingers coasted down her arm. The crunch of is ice fused with a
constant beep of monitors.

“Can you open your
eyes?”

Shayla’s throat hurt
when she swallowed. Her mouth felt dry like sandpaper. “More?”

“You can’t have too
many, you might throw up again,” Tracy warned, slipping a few small chips of
ice into her mouth.

A wave a panic hit
her, accelerating her heart rate. She swatted at the bed in distress. “John? Where
is he?”

“I’m right here,
baby.”

“Am I dreaming?” Her
lids flickered drowsily. She licked at her parched lips, trying to make them
moist. Her eyes parted in slits, but only saw Tracy. “Where is he? I just heard
him, didn’t I?”

“He’s in the bed
next to yours.” Tracy offered her a half of spoonful of cold water.

“Hold on. I’m
coming.” John groaned.

Shayla couldn’t move
her head, but she heard the crinkle of a plastic mattress as he maneuvered off
his bed. “Hi, baby.”

JC entered the room.
“Hey, she’s up again.”

 
Shayla stared at them blankly, foggy from
pain meds.

John stepped into
her peripheral view, and her eyes opened wide. Her lip quivered as she caught a
glimpse of him. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

John limped to the
foot of her bed, dragging his IV stand, wearing a matching blue hospital gown.
He looked scraped, bruised and tired. His warm, rough hand gripped her foot,
squeezing and manipulating the arch as he waited for Tracy to get out of his
way.

Tracy set the
styrofoam cup on the table tray, leading JC out of the room.

He moved to her
side, folding his hand over hers. “I’m not a dream. I’m right here.”

Shayla’s chest felt
tight and full. Tears of distress and relief leaked out of her eyes. She tried
to sit up, but John gestured for her to stay put as he used the controller to
slightly raise her bed.

“Thank God you’re
alive. I didn’t know if…”

“Shh it’s okay.”

He took a measurable
amount of time adjusting into a sitting position at the edge of her bed. Even
in her state of drug-induced euphoria, she saw he was in a lot of pain, but she
reached for him, needing to touch him.

His eyes were
bloodshot and swollen. He kissed her soft and slow, acting as if she were a
piece of fragile glass. “I’m fine, baby. Just banged up with a few broken ribs.
You’re the one we were worried about. You hit your head pretty good and your
arm’s busted up. You’ve got two plates and eleven screws in it, but the
infection is under control now. Do you remember talking to me earlier?”

“No. Was I awake?”

“I’m not sure awake
would be the right word, but you’ve talked a couple times.” His hands never
left her skin, caressing as if he needed to touch her as much as she needed to
feel him.

“What happened?
Where were you?”

“I got tangled at
the base of a tree halfway through the slide. The way my body got curled around
the tree trunk left a gap in the snow and gave me extra space for air.”

She couldn’t wait
another second. “I love you.”

A dark shadow etched
across his face and he gripped her fingers tighter. He choked, fighting back a
round of tears, but it was no use. They streamed down his face. John chewed on
his lip. “I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again, Shay. I love you.”

Hindered by
painkillers and a broken arm, Shayla stroked his face with her right hand, scratching
her fingers through his beard.

He bent carefully, and
the taste of salt and medication filled their gentle kisses.

“Does my uncle
know?”

“Oh, yeah.” John
glanced around the room and Shayla’s eyes followed his. Three gorgeous bouquets
of flowers filled a table.

“I remember smelling
flowers.”

“My mom and Tom
should be here soon, and they made sure you got the best care until they could
be here themselves. We’re in a private room, and everyone talks about your
doctor like she’s the best thing since sliced bread. And the nurses jump on
command when she walks in the room.” John stretched, gingerly reaching for her
cup to feed her more ice chips. “We’ve both had around the clock care with
private nurses. They constantly take our temperature and blood pressure, and
I’ve been offered assistance in the shower about half a dozen times.”

 
“I bet you have. Nurses are probably
lined up outside the door waiting for you to push the call button.” She
squinted, moving her finger in a circle over his crotch. “This is mine.”

A small grin tugged
at the corner of his mouth. John placed her hand over his heart. “Everything I
am, everything I have, every breath I take, belongs to you.”

Her chin crumpled.
She jiggled his fingers and nodded. “A lifetimes worth.”

He searched her
eyes. “You remember…everything, don’t you?”

A weak laugh wisped
from her lips as her eyes drifted shut. “I remember. Don’t think you’re getting
out of marrying me, John Mathews. You’re stuck with me forever.”

She felt his breath
near her temple. “Forever.”

Her brows knit as
she sifted through her memories. “Was there a dog in here or did I dream that?”

“That’s Cindy.
You’ll meet her. She’s part of the ski patrol.” She felt him a tremor run
through him. “That dog saved my life.”

In the middle of the
night, Shayla woke up crying, gasping for air, and screaming his name.

John came to her bed
and carefully eased in beside her.

Shayla lay nestled
tight in the crook of his arm, releasing a shaky sigh of contentment. Her
injured arm lay high across his chest on a pillow, and her leg hitched up over
his hips.

He smoothed back her
hair and kissed her forehead, stroking the tension from her spine. “It’s okay.
Shh. I’m right here.”

Lying in his arms,
meshed together as one, the magnitude of nearly losing him overwhelmed her. Shayla
wept in the darkness.

His subtle caresses
urged her closer into his chest. But it wasn’t close enough.

“It’s okay, baby,” he
murmured.

She arched and nudged,
needing more of a connection. Words couldn’t convey the amount of love she carried
in her heart for this man. She wanted more, needed more.

John’s body turned
warm beneath her, his arousal growing below her leg.

Shayla maneuvered
over him, straddling his hips being mindful not to hurt his ribs. She touched
his face in the dark. John’s hands roamed over her hips and thighs. He laid the
heel of his palm over her heart. She lowered her hand to his chest, feeling his
beating heart. She lifted her hips and eased down onto him.

They didn’t make
love for pleasure. The intimate act went beyond needs and words. They connected
as one in a bond of love that that would last a lifetime.