Embracing Ellie: Chapter 15

The basin sloped in a gentle descent first, but then Hemi shot to the right and banked a high-edged curve that swooped into a silent valley of untouched snow. Up the curve and down she went, picking up speed she didn’t need, but welcomed with a surprising smile. Hemi was ahead of her, and she followed the big man’s path as best she could. He was quick and nimble—or, at least, as quick and nimble as one could expect from such a giant.

The snow whispered under her ski edges, not the clatter she was used to from groomed trails back home, but a soft swishing sound—powder billowing around her boots like silky smoke.

She turned with care, then again. Then harder the next time, putting some oomph into her marks. Slicing the snow, carving it with the burlesque sway of her bodyweight, side to side, legs like suspension. More confident. The snow caught her weight just enough—dry and forgiving, like Hemi promised—and each turn came easier, her rhythm syncing with the terrain beneath her.

The basin widened again, sunlight glittering on the slope like crushed glass.

Down, turn, down again. Her thighs burned; her lungs gulped huge hauls of the thin air, and her mind—normally full of chatter and second-guessing—calmed.

All the early-gray morning’s bad thoughts of Daniel and his lusty malevolence fell away in the mountain’s quiet. The focus of the path ahead, the path Hemi carved, extinguished the gut-churning anxiety Danny had caused today. She and Hemi were caught up in her husband’s curious plan. They were in it together. Her heart pounded, and the fresh air scorched her lungs; the thrill was incredible.

After a few more turns, Hemi slowed on a sharp rise before descending it, coming to a stop and waiting for her at the top, bulky silhouette dark against the snow. She coasted to a stop beside him, flushed and breathless.

“So—how was it?” he asked, adjusting his goggles.

She could barely get the words out around the smile. “I didn’t know snow could feel like that.”

Hemi chuckled and gestured with his pole to the slope they’d just swished down. “Plenty more where that came from, Ellie. We’re just getting started. You certainly handled it well.”

And for the first time in months—maybe longer—she believed that was true: she was in control and had a great hold on life. But half an hour later, disaster struck.

#

Daniel was missing out. Daniel had tried to be funny today and send her on an awkward mission to test her steely nerves . . . And look what he’s missing. Served him right, that was for sure. It should have been Daniel at her side instead of her all alone on the mountain with the man Danny said she had eyes for. And another thing: if he was so intent on—

One second, the wind’s whipping past her face, she’s tingling with adrenalin fueled joy, alive, invincible. Free. The next, her ski edge catches something sharp and hard, a rock it felt like, and she goes to one leg, her banged ski coming off the snow. Her weight went right, the terrain rose up and down in a quick swell, and she pitched forward, arms out. No collarbone snap, for which she was grateful, but she went heels up overhead, skis coming off when she landed, then another lazy cartwheel before she ended up in a cushiony pit of snow just off the tree line. One of her skis hit an overhead spruce branch and brought down a heavy pillow of snow onto her head. She sat there dazed for a second, snow going down the back of her collar, and when no pain arrived, she started laughing. Started and couldn’t stop. That’s how Hemi found her, lying hip deep in snow with her boot toes poking up ahead of her, legs out wide, snow on her hat and shoulders.

Hemi’s concerned face stared down at her, but her laughter assuaged him and he began to smile. “Ellie, are you okay?”

She nodded, wincing as she tried to move her arms. “I think so,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just a little banged up. And I have snow down my back.”

“What happened?” He’d been ahead of her and had seen nothing.

She threw up her gloves, the ski poles still strapped to her wrists, and shrugged. “I have no idea.” I guess I was a little preoccupied by my devious husband and his sexual fantasies, Hemi. Didn’t expect that, didya? See, he thinks he wants me to have a fling with you. I think he thinks I want that, too. Can you believe it? “No idea at all,” she said, still laughing and sniffling.

Hemi dropped his poles, unlatched his skis, and crouched to step down into the hidden hollow where she’d tumbled, popping up his hood to make sure he didn’t end up with snow down his collar too. She held her hands out to him, ready for his help. Hemi took her hands and lifted, helping her out of the deep snow and getting her standing again. Though smiling, he showed concern for her well-being, checking her out, looking for any arm or leg that might stick out at the wrong angle.

“I’m intact,” she said, thanking him for his help, and Hemi guided her to step out into the sunshine again, following, his hand on her waist. It felt good there. Steady. Strong. She stepped into the sunlight and turned to help Hemi, but he didn’t need it, stepping out and stomping his snow-burdened boots.

“You sure you’re all right, Ellie?”

She flapped her arms up and down and danced a little tap number to prove she was fine. “I landed in the snow, Hemi. No bumps or bruises, even. Bet you I didn’t even tweak my back like another fellow we know.”

“You’re made of strong stuff, aren’t ya?” He held out his fist and she fist-bumped it. “I tell you what.” He rested his forearms on the tops of his retrieved ski poles. “I say we find your skis, we put our skins on, and we cross-hike the way you were headed into the trees there. I think you got good instincts. The way you went there,”—he aimed a hand the way she’d gone into the trees—“takes us to a great spot to stop for some chow. You hungry?”

#

They hiked laterally and a little downhill for more than a quarter hour, through trees and across more snow plains—one trail she saw was definitely not Blue; a real fierce-looking one that struck some fear, given her recent mishap.

They had skins on their skis now, hiking and looking to stop for lunch, or brunch, or whatever time it was. Her watch was buried under her zippered glove and under the sleeve of her zippered shell. But the sun was much higher now, and she figured it was probably around ten in the morning.

Up ahead—Hemi was a strong hiker—Hemi waited for her at the edge of a clearing. He was removing his skis.

When she caught up, she said, “Is this it? The lunch spot?” Behind Hemi there was a clearing, free of snow; a small rise in the center was peaked with a collection of large stones, weathered smooth and darkened by lichen.

Hemi encouraged her closer, bringing her to the clearing’s edge. “Naw, we’re not stopping here. I just wanted you to see this.” He gestured to the rise in the clearing’s center, to the rocks that were there. “That’s a wāhi tapu—sacred site. Old Māori wayfinding marker. Some say it’s a burial cairn. Others say it’s just a guidepost from the ancestors.” 

And as it was revealed to her, she swore the wind changed. The clearing went still and breathless; the temperature chilled and she shivered. 

A hush fell around them. Hemi removed his puffy gloves and placed a hand to his chest in what she saw as respect. She did the same, looking aside to Hemi for guidance.

Hemi didn’t elaborate, and the moment was long and silent while stray snow dropped from the trees. 

#

The lunch spot was about ten minutes further down and across from the  wāhi tapu. Hemi unpacked their food from his bag; two cans of Coke, some hard pale cheese, a rewena bread roll, Hemi told her—dense, tangy, naturally fermented with a bit of leftover potato, its crust dark and honest. The lunch came out of his bag wrapped in a tea towel. The cheese wrapped in wax paper. He’d brought a piece of smoked eel, oily and rich, wrapped in a green leaf; and a handful of pickled watercress in a small jar, tart and bright against the bread and eel, when she spread it.

“All local,” Hemi said. “My auntie makes the best rewena. Had her make some up for us. No Daniel, so you’n me get to eat big as we want, really stuff ourselves.”

“I’m so starving,” she said, tucking into the bread with the eel and cheese. The eel was rich and oily, the flesh dense but silky. The smoke hit first—deep and woody, but not overpowering. 

Hemi watched her, smiling, saying, “You like the eel? My auntie’s man’s got a smoker out back of his garage. He brines the eel in salt and brown sugar.”

“It’s so good, Hemi. It’s perfect.”

Which was true. A piece of some local hand-prepared far out on the middle of a mountain after skiing from a helicopter drop-off…? “This is a truly unbelievable experience. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Yeah, it was your Danny’s idea. He asked me to put something together for you guys, as a surprise to you. I been racking me brain trying to do something out of the ordinary…”

“Well, I can guarantee you I was not expecting this. This is incredible.”

“Aw, yea, well, thanks. We’re not even done yet. This is just the start.”

“Oh my god,” she sighed like she was exhausted. “I can’t take too much more. My legs are shaking already.”

Hemi swallowed his bite of sandwich. “All smooth sailing here on in. We’re getting the exercise out of the way, then your Danny boy’s going to take over.”

“What? Aw, what do you mean? Where’re you going?”

“I’m going to leave you two at it. We just have to hike and ski down a ways more…” He turned to look downslope from their spot on some rocks, out in the sunshine. He aimed a hand down to where he was looking. “Maybe another hour.”

“You should stay. Hang out with us. What’s he got planned?”

Hemi smiled and held up his hands, not answering, like he was sworn to secrecy.

She smirked and nodded, knowing whatever happened, Hemi would be staying with them wherever they ended up. That was what Danny wanted. Wasn’t it? She was sure of it. Even pretty sure now he was sincere. 

She ate another bite of bread and eel and cheese, popped the top on her Coke and sat back, getting sunshine on her face. “You’re so at home here. Wherever we are. You love the outdoors.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine being anywhere else,” Hemi said. “I grew up exploring these trails.”

“Yeah. What’s your auntie like?”

“My auntie? Aw, yeah, she’s all right. She’s like me second mum.”

“You tell her I loved her bread? Can you thank her for me?”

“I sure will, yeah.”

They finished their food in time and the sun on her face and hair was wonderful. She drank almost the whole Coke in one long and amazing draw. Then fought the huge urge to burp. She put a fist to her mouth and choked it back. Hemi laughed, knowing exactly why she was doing that. He told her to just let ‘er rip, and she said, “No way, no way, Hemi. I’m a lady.”

“Of course ye are,” he said, laughing and wiping her mouth.

She said, “Besides, I’d hate to be responsible for an avalanche.”

Hemi laughed harder, said, “Those poor Germans are up there.”

“They were nice, too. I’d hate to bring a bunch of snow down on them because I drank my soda too fast.”

#

They’d been hiking for what felt like an hour, her following Hemi’s confident strides as he zigzagged up the slope in his skinned skis, his back straight, as if the climb barely registered. But now he slowed, turning to look over his shoulder, and his face broke into a grin.

Her legs ached, each step through the snow sending a dull, throbbing burn up through her calves and spreading a wide gamut throughout her lower back. She’d abandoned the skis and the skins and liked now in just her boots. Hemi promised it wasn’t much further. The sun had raised higher, almost straight above them. Her breath fogged the air in heavy puffs, the exhales louder than the muffled crunch of her boots.

“There she is,” Hemi said, tipping his chin toward the trees. Now he was taking his skis off, too. He’d also stripped off his shell a while back and had tied it around his waist. His bulging arms and shoulders stretched out his fleece. He’d zipped open the neck. The extreme exertion and fresh air had supercharged them both; Hemi glowed with good health, and she felt it on her own cheeks, too. The sun had roused their skin as well.

The tiredness took a back seat, and she marched to catch up with Hemi, coming to his side. At first, she saw nothing but a stand of dark, scraggly pines dusted with snow, the trunks thick and knotted. But as he angled her the right way, taking her shoulders (so tiny in his big grip) and pointing her in the right direction, she saw it: A small log and stone cabin, half-sunken into a snowdrift, its pitched roof slanted like her four-year-old niece had drawn it, a lazy trail of smoke curling from the chimney. The walls were made of raw, honey-colored timber, the edges chinked with weathered stone. The foundation and one wall were stone. A solitary snowmobile sat parked outside, its nose buried in a mound of white, the seat glistening with frost. Beside it, tracks led toward the door, faint and already half-covered by blowing snow.

Danny.

She stopped, chest heaving, and let the sight soak in. The cabin stood alone, surrounded by a sea of untouched snow, evergreens poking up through, more mountains rising on the horizon. The view from the cabin would be incredible. Everything was still—so still she could hear the creak of the trees as the gentle wind pushed through them.

Hemi stepped forward, his boots crunching over a crust of old snow. He glanced back at her, eyes crinkling. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll keep ya warm. Got a hot tub out back, too.”

Her gaze drifted to the snowmobile. The black seat was slick and shining, as if recently ridden. The surrounding snow was scuffed and churned, a sign of movement in a place that otherwise felt frozen in time.

Something fluttered in her chest—something she couldn’t quite name. Relief? Anticipation? A reminder that out here, cut off from the world, there were no distractions and nowhere to hide. It would be Danny and her and Hemi. And Danny’s dirty mind.

Hemi stepped up onto the porch and set his skis against the railing. She came up behind him. “Danny's probably waiting for us,” Hemi said.

But Danny wasn't waiting for them. Danny wasn't there. Two others were in the cabin, though. The owners of the snow machine parked out front.