Rebecca Winters - A Christmas Family Miracle

“Yes.” She was so astonished to see him, she couldn’t find the words.

“I’m surprised.”

She took an extra breath, wondering what he’d meant by that remark, which could be taken several ways.

As if reading her mind he said, “I’d imagined that if nothing else, you would have gone into coaching some new upcoming sports star.” He flashed one of his beautiful rare smiles. “There isn’t a female champion who skis like Crystal Broussard. You have a style no one’s been able to imitate.”

“Had, you mean.”

“No,” he responded on a more sober note, not letting it go. “It will always be there because you honed it into an art form. The ski world lost a true star when you stopped competing. I, for one, am sorry that happened.”

Crystal found it hard to swallow because his comment stunned her. With the problems in her marriage followed by Eric’s death, that part of her life seemed to have taken a backseat. For Raoul to bring it up now wasn’t only a surprise, it was … flattering, especially coming from him.

That was because he was such a revered athlete in his own right and always meant what he said. Little did he know the idea of becoming a coach had touched on one of her secret dreams. It shook her to realize he was the first person to recognize that need inside her.

In the past, while Suzanne had been alive, they’d often been on the same wavelength and she’d enjoyed that aspect of their relationship. Sometimes it had even upset her because she hadn’t experienced it with Eric and didn’t like feeling guilty about it.

“Thank you for the compliment, Raoul, but I’ve had my son to worry about.”

“That’s understandable, but it seems to me you could still do both. In fact I wondered why you didn’t go back to competition after Philippe was born.”

“You mean in Chamonix?”

“Naturellement.”

“I wanted to, but being a mother is a full-time job.”

“For some women maybe, but you could have managed both.” His dark eyes flashed. “You’re too gifted.”

Raoul really believed in her.

But when she’d talked to Eric about it, he’d clutched her under the chin. “You’re the one who didn’t mind us getting pregnant before we’d planned to,” he’d said. “If we’re both gone, who’ll take care of the baby? I’m not keen on hiring a nanny.”

Soon after Philippe was born, Eric hadn’t been keen on much of anything but skiing. It eventually ruled his life. Without conscious thought she’d tried to be mother and father to their son.

All the while she was remembering the past, she’d been staring at Raoul. She couldn’t help it. His black hair was longer than she remembered. It had a tendency to curl and looked slightly ruffled from the wind outside. He was an inch taller than Eric, who’d stood six feet two—the brothers were quite different in body build and coloring.

Eric had been born with the natural lean body of a skier. He and their sister, Vivige, a terrific skier in her own right, resembled their father in that regard and were dark blondes.

On the other hand Raoul, standing there in his black bomber jacket, possessed a more powerful build and had a darker olive complexion like their mother. Both men had the stamp of the good-looking Broussard family, and it had been bequeathed to her adorable Philippe, who clung to his uncle.

The sight of Raoul brought intense pleasure and pain in equal waves, plus too many other emotions Crystal didn’t dare examine right now. She noticed the lines around his wide mouth had deepened since the last time she’d seen him. A year ago the whole Broussard family, including Philippe’s three cousins, had driven to the airport in Geneva to see her and Philippe off to the States.

There was a haunted look about his Gallic features that was new. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought he’d lost a few pounds. The changes only made him more attractive, resurrecting more feelings of guilt for finding him so terribly appealing. That guilt had lain dormant while she’d been here in Colorado.

Where Eric had been dashing, Raoul was drop-dead gorgeous, a comment her friends on the ski team had pointed out many times. The Broussard brothers had a female following that extended throughout the sporting world.

“It’s good to see you, Raoul,” she finally managed to say, but she had to fight to keep her voice steady.

“Is it?” he challenged. She recognized the clipped, off-putting tone of voice he always seemed to use with her when he phoned to speak to Philippe.

Was that accusation she heard, or was she simply overreacting to the unexpected question? She couldn’t describe how it had come across, but to her dismay it put her on the defensive. That was the last emotion she wanted him to be aware of.

“How can you even ask me that?” She forced a smile. “Of course it is, especially after such a long time. Philippe and I are just so surprised you’re here, aren’t we?”

Right before Christmas was one of the busiest times for the Broussards’ business as Chamonix was a favorite winter wonderland. Crystal was surprised he could take the time off to come. She moved closer to give him a hug. Philippe was still in his arms, looking so ecstatic, she could hardly think.

Raoul’s free arm enfolded her. “It’s good to see you too, ma belle,” he whispered against her temple. He’d often called her that as a term of brotherly affection. “Life hasn’t been the same without you around.”

She could say the same about him. Being away from France, from him—she’d felt like she’d been in exile. It had been of her own making and Raoul was the reason.

Before he set Philippe down, he gave them both a brief kiss on the cheek. He smelled wonderful, evoking memories from a time that would never come again.

Philippe clung to Raoul’s hand and threw his head back. Those blue eyes had stars in them, the first she’d seen in so long, she couldn’t remember. “Come with us. I want to show you my nana’s house!” The revelation that he’d missed his uncle this terribly hit her with blunt force.

“I’d like that if it’s all right with your maman.”

Crystal drew in a quick breath. “We’d love you to come. Did you drive from Denver in a rental car?”

“Oui,” he answered with a hint of irony.

Of course he had. She was a fool.

“Can I go to the house in his car, Maman? ”

He’d been calling her Mommy for the last year. Now suddenly her bilingual son had reverted to French. Another revelation that gave her second sight. Philippe had been starved for the man he’d loved most in the world next to his own father. In truth he’d spent more time with Raoul over the years than he’d spent with Eric, who was always off training.

“S’il te plâit.” Please, his eyes begged her. In that moment he reminded her of Eric when he begged Crystal to forgive him for something he’d done, or not done after he’d promised. All the unkept promises. The memories assailed her, knocking her off balance.

“Yes, of course. But make sure you’re strapped in.”

Philippe jumped up and down with all the excitement that had been missing since before Eric’s death. The sight of his uncle had made a remarkable change in him.

“I’ll take care of him,” Raoul assured her in an aside.

He hadn’t needed to say anything. Ever since the night she’d gone into labor two weeks early and Raoul had driven her to the hospital, comforting her on the way because she was bleeding, a bond had formed. She knew she could trust him with her life. He and Suzanne couldn’t do enough to be there for her.

Eric had been away at a World Cup race in Cortina. It wasn’t his fault he’d missed the delivery. The doctor hadn’t expected her to have the baby so soon. When she’d called her mother-in-law for help, Raoul happened to be at the house and answered the phone. The second he heard the alarm in her voice, he’d dropped everything to help her. The doctor said his quick response had saved her life. Another ten minutes and she would have bled to death.