Snowbound with Her Hero. Rebecca Winters

marriage no one knew about and still didn’t, they’d kept putting it off.

      “Someone else lives there now,” she replied quietly. He needed to know the truth up front so there’d be one less expectation when they got there.

      “That’s okay. We’ll stay with Uncle Raoul.”

      “No, Philippe—” Crystal blurted. No … “H-he has a girlfriend,” she said, her voice faltering.

      “You do?”

      Something flickered in the depths of Raoul’s eyes. “But she doesn’t live with me, mon gars, and there’s nothing I’d love more than to have you sleep at my house,” he inserted in a smooth tone without looking at her.

      “We’ll be staying at your grandparents’, honey.”

      “That’s right. Your grand-mère has your dad’s old room all ready for you and your mother. She can’t wait to spoil you. Come on and walk me downstairs.”

      Philippe grabbed his hand and the two of them headed out of the room. The fact that Raoul didn’t deny the existence of a girlfriend verified Vivige’s information. It should have come as a relief. But as Crystal followed them, she felt a whole new nightmare beginning.

      Geneva was one of Europe’s main hubs. After disembarking, they wove their way through the crowds to the parking area. Crystal watched Raoul stow the last of their bags in the trunk of his car before getting behind the wheel. Philippe had already climbed in the back and strapped himself in. The sleek black vehicle was a recent acquisition, but Raoul had never been a sports car fan like his brother. As far as she was concerned, this sedan was the ultimate in comfort and luxury.

      Within a few minutes they’d wound their way out of the airport. She checked her watch. Barring unforeseen circumstances they’d be in Chamonix by noon. The long fifteen-hour flight was finally over.

      Philippe had been restless for part of it, but between her and Raoul, they’d kept him occupied while they took turns napping. Philippe ought to have been exhausted by now, but he showed no signs of it yet.

      She turned her head around. “Are you hungry, honey?”

      “Yes. Can we get some chicken nuggets?”

      “I’m afraid they don’t have them here.”

      “Actually they do,” Raoul informed them, darting her an amused glance. “There’ve been a few changes while you’ve been away.”

      She lifted her brows. “Even the Swiss caved for fast food. That’s really saying something.”

      Her response brought a smile to his lips that melted her insides. “I’m glad they did. I come down here often enough to meet with the heads of groups who want to arrange a special climb and I’m usually in a hurry. It saves time to be able to pick up a snack en route without getting out of the car.”

      Before long they’d all eaten and were on their way again. During the drive Raoul phoned his mother to let her know they would be there shortly. From what Crystal could gather, his father was no better, but no worse, thank heaven.

      After he hung up he spoke sotto voce. “I’ll take you to the house first so you can freshen up.”

      The “house” hardly described the Broussard family home. It was a marvelous old brown-and-white three-story chalet located in Les Pecles, a few minutes from the town center of Chamonix. The first Broussard, a famous alpinist, built it 220 years earlier in the haut-savoyard style. The mountaineering tradition had carried down through the years, making their name a household word for Alpine adventure throughout the French Alps.

      Due to its location on the Swiss and Italian border, there was an international flavor that made the town cosmopolitan and brought visitors from all over the world. No matter the season, Crystal thought it the most beautiful place on earth. Seeing it again with all the streets and shops decked out for Christmas brought memories, both good and bad. Hearing the ecstatic sounds coming from Philippe she knew he was in heaven to be back.

      “I see the peak!” he called out excitedly.

      They’d approached the snow covered Chamonix valley from the north, dominated by Mont Blanc, but he was referring to the Aiguille du Midi. Raoul had taken her and Philippe up on it in the cable car. After that experience it had been the landmark for her son among a world of mountains and peaks on both sides of the town of 15,000 sprawled through the valley.

      “Do you remember what it’s called, honey?”

      “No, but Uncle Raoul said the sun sits on it. See?”

      Out of the corner of her eye she saw Raoul smile. “You have a good memory, Philippe.”

      Crystal turned her head abruptly to look out the passenger window. Once Philippe had been born, many of her memories had to do with Raoul being with them rather than Eric. After Suzanne died, Crystal and Philippe had spent a lot of time with him and his family while they all mourned.

      Eric gave his love and support when he could, but he had to train through all the seasons and was gone a great deal. Crystal felt he was away too much and reminded him they had a son who was missing him terribly.

      A year before he’d died, she’d begged for them to live part of the year in Breckenridge, where they could both train and he’d find more time to be with their son away from his family. There hadn’t been too much togetherness. She didn’t tell him Philippe went to Raoul for everything. That would only upset him, but the situation couldn’t go on.

      To her chagrin Eric didn’t like the idea of actually living away for even part of a year. He’d told her they would buy a house. In other words, he hoped a new project would keep her busy. It didn’t occur to him she might like to start up racing again.

      She told him a house wouldn’t be a substitute for a full-time father. Over the months that followed, she realized he was too entrenched with his lifestyle and friends, too comfortable with the way things were, to want to leave. They didn’t have a marriage anymore.

      Eric had been surrounded by a loving support group from the time he was born. Crystal had joined it by becoming his wife, but there was one little body who had needed his attention more of the time now. A day or two here and there between races that took him to other parts of Europe and the States for longer periods wasn’t enough for Philippe.

      The more she’d brought it up to her husband, the more irritated he became until they had nothing between them. Having been a top athlete herself, he thought she understood the demands on him. She did understand, at the time. But priorities changed once a child came into the world.

      The day he’d left for Cortina, she’d reminded him of that fact and told him she was going back to Breckenridge with Philippe to stay for a few months until he realized what he was missing and come for them.

      He’d remained mute. After giving Philippe a hug and a kiss, he’d walked past her and slammed the door on his way out of their condo. He’d never done that before. That was the last time she’d seen him alive.

       “There’s Grand-mère!”

      Philippe’s cry brought Crystal out of her torturous thoughts. The second Raoul stopped the car, her son opened the rear door and ran up the few steps into her arms. They hugged for a long time.

      Crystal’s sixty-three-year-old mother-in-law, Arlette, was lean and athletic like her children, possessing endless energy. She and Jules were very alike, always busy, always cordial and always welcoming company into their home.

      From a distance, everything about her appeared to look the same. That was until Crystal got out before Raoul could help her and hurried toward his mother, noticing new worry lines on her attractive features. Since the last time she’d seen her, there was a touch more gray in the dark hair she wore short. It gave her an added sophistication.

      Arlette clapped her hands on Crystal’s cheeks. “Mon Dieu, you’ve come and brought Philippe.