As the horses paced along in rhythm, the sleigh bells made their distinctive sounds while the sleigh swished and glided across the snow. The outing was one of sheer enchantment, carrying her back to that other magical morning on the ski slopes with Raoul.

The scene right now was too surreal for Crystal. She closed her eyes for a little while and just listened while she dreamed about what it would be like if he had any deeper feelings for her.

Finally, today, his kiss had brought her own feelings closer to the surface to be acknowledged. But Raoul wasn’t her lover.

The kiss he’d given her in the bedroom was something he’d done in order to wake her up to the possibilities of life. It hadn’t been prompted by the earth-shaking desire she had for him. When she’d told him she couldn’t accept his offer to run a ski school here, he’d left it alone. His calm acceptance gave her the proof he could compartmentalize his feelings for the good of the moment.

Dear Reader,

We’ve all heard the expression true blue. In terms of one’s overall character it means never wavering, solid, dependable for life!

In my novel, Snowbound with Her Hero, my heroine Crystal has learned to depend on her French brother-in-law Raoul, who in time becomes her best friend. When destiny throws both of them a curve, they realise there’s more to their deep, abiding friendship and loyalty than either had suspected. Now this true blue hero is faced with the greatest dilemma of his life. A choice has to be made that will impact upon his life and Crystal’s for ever.

Hopefully you’ll read this Christmas story to discover the choice he made.

Enjoy!

Rebecca Winters

Snowbound with
her Hero
Rebecca Winters

www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author

REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include three beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wild flowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her Mills & Boon® novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and church.

Rebecca loves to hear from her readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website at: www.cleanromances.com.

No one loves the Colorado Mountains more than my son John, who started out on skis early in life and now flies down the slopes of Breckenridge like a champion. He’s a wonderful son, husband and father, and the source of inspiration for this book I’ve dedicated to him.

CHAPTER ONE

“PHILIPPE? OVER HERE!” Crystal Broussard waved to her dark blond six-year-old son. She stood next to her father’s car with the Marler Sports logo printed on the side. He came running out of the elementary-school entrance to the lineup of cars waiting. Being a Friday, the kids were out of school two hours earlier than usual.

Gusting winds had shifted from the southwest to the northwest, meaning a full-scale Colorado blizzard was on its way. Soon 10,000-foot Crystal Peak, her namesake, would be whited out along with the other surrounding peaks.

Crystal, who’d been put on skis as soon as she could walk, had been born in this 9,600-foot ski mecca and recognized the signs. The temperature had already dropped to the twenties. Soon the town of Breckenridge would be covered in even more snow, after several recent storms, the last one blanketing the area a few days ago.

It was good news for her father’s business. Skiers from around the world flocked here and spent a lot of money on ski clothes and equipment. She’d worked part-time for her father while Philippe finished kindergarten; but now that he was a first-grader she was working full-time.

She gave him a huge hug, forcing him to reciprocate before opening the back door for him. “I’ve missed you today. Hurry and fasten yourself in. I want to drive us back to the store before the storm hits.”

“Can’t we just go home?”

That’s all he ever wanted to do lately. Just go home and play quietly in his room …

“This won’t take long. You need a new coat. This afternoon a shipment of parkas came in. There aren’t too many in your size, so we need to get you in one you like before they’re put out on the racks and taken.” With Christmas in nine days, the last-minute rush for gifts would bring the shoppers in droves.

“I don’t want a new coat.”

“I know you don’t, but you’ve grown and the sleeves are too short.” Just now she’d almost said that the parka he was wearing had been bought in France, where they used to live, and he’d outgrown it. But she caught herself in time, afraid he’d go all quiet. She had a hunch he was hanging on to it because it was the one he’d brought with him when they’d left Chamonix.

Crystal needed to do something quick to help her son. Since school had started in the fall, he’d been less communicative. All she heard lately were troubled sighs coming out of him. He’d been a different child since his father’s death fourteen months ago. Eric Broussard, one of France’s great skiers, had taken a fatal fall during the downhill race in Cortina, Italy, and had died at the young age of twenty-eight, devastating everyone.

Two years earlier the Broussard family had already been plagued by the death of Suzanne, the wife of their son, Raoul. The Broussards were an institution that owned and ran the 100-year-old premier alpine mountaineering guide club in the French Alps. The two brothers had been very close. Probably—and this was Crystal’s private theory—it was because they’d never competed. Raoul lived for climbing and mountaineering. His wife, Suzanne, had shared his passion for the mountains. Eric only wanted to do one thing. Ski.

News of his passing sent the French ski world into mourning for a favorite son, but the hardest hit of all was to Crystal, who had to explain to a little five-year-old boy that his daddy wouldn’t be coming home.

Crystal had been two years younger than Eric when she’d met and dated him. That was at a time when she’d been a member of the national women’s ski team and had one bronze medal to her credit. After their marriage, they’d settled in Chamonix, France, where Eric had been born and raised on skis.

Two months after the funeral was over, Crystal had moved her and Philippe back to her parents’ home in Breckenridge, hoping it would help both of them to recover and move on. To her chagrin, Philippe had slowly gone into a shell and nothing seemed to bring him out of it, not even her two younger, fun-loving sisters, Jenny and Laura. They were in their early twenties and came and went from the house between ski races.

When Crystal had brought them back to Colorado, Philippe had a tantrum the first time her father tried to take him skiing. Crystal realized it was too soon. Maybe Eric’s death had put him off skiing forever. She hadn’t tried to get him on skis again. He’d skied with her in Chamonix, but she didn’t know if he’d really liked it or just did it because she did.

Lately she’d been doubting her own thoughts and feelings where he was concerned. Her boy was never enthusiastic about anything. At first she hadn’t expected enthusiasm or excitement from him. But this depression seemed to be growing worse despite all the love her family gave him. According to his new teacher, he didn’t even try to make friends with the kids in his first grade class.

The one time this fall she’d invited a boy for a play date after school, Philippe had been unwilling to share his toys or play at the nearby park. After the day had ended in disaster, she hadn’t tried it again. The other boy’s mother reciprocated, but Crystal knew it hadn’t gone well because she hadn’t called to make another play date.

It worried her he never wanted to talk about his father. He always brought up his uncle Raoul, the adored uncle who phoned once a month. But whatever they talked about, Philippe kept it to himself.

In the beginning he’d had conversations on the phone with his cousin Albert, but since school had started, things had changed. He didn’t articulate his wishes or worries and closed up if she tried to get him to discuss his feelings. Not even the grand-mère and grand-père he loved had the power to bring a lasting smile to his face or eyes. They’d flown over two different times to visit, once bringing his loving aunt Vivige with them, but he still remained aloof.

Molly, the mother of three and one of the long-time employees at her father’s store, had suggested earlier today that maybe he was upset having to share his mommy with her family. The comment had gotten Crystal thinking, deepening her guilt that she was failing her child somehow.

Here she’d believed that living with her parents and sisters would help Philippe feel secure and loved. She’d originally planned to get a condo close to their house. But a year later she was still staying in their family home because she’d hoped the closeness would help him to heal, but nothing seemed to be further from the truth.

What if Molly were right?

The thought devastated Crystal that he might be feeling shut out because of his perception that she paid too much attention to her own family. If she moved them to a nearby condo, maybe Philippe would like having her all to himself and he would start communicating more without anyone else around. Whatever it took, she was willing to try it because the next step was to seek professional help. They both needed it.

Tonight after she’d put Philippe to bed, she would discuss it with her parents and start looking for a new place. She would decorate it with the few furnishings from their condo in Chamonix that were still in storage. Philippe could help her.

Maybe seeing the things would make him open up. Naturally, when they’d first come back to Breckenridge, she’d tried to re-create Philippe’s bedroom to make him feel at home, but if he saw everything else, maybe that’s what he needed. It had to work. She was desperate!

Crystal drove into the town center of Breckenridge and parked around the back of the store. “Come on, honey.” Grabbing his hand, she led them inside the rear entrance. They walked over to the load of new parkas hanging on the rack ready to be rolled out on to the floor.

She lifted two and held them in front of Philippe. “Which do you like better, the blue or the green?”

He studied them for a minute. “I guess that one.” He touched the navy coat. It would be a nice match with his blue eyes, a shade darker than Eric’s.

“All right. Let’s see how it looks on you.”

When he’d shed his other coat, she put it on him. “This looks terrific on you. Come on. Let’s go find Grandpa and see what he thinks.”

The store had at least a dozen customers keeping the staff busy. Molly was with a group of skiers, but she was the first to notice them come out of the back room. “Hey, Philippe. I like that parka on you. It fits you perfectly.”

He muttered something indistinct and averted his eyes.

Crystal sent Molly a silent message that she was sorry for her son’s lack of manners and looked around for her father. “Where’s Dad?”

“He said he had an errand, but he’ll be back.”

She’d heard that before. When he got talking to one of his friends, it might be several hours. “I guess we’ll go on home and show Nana. He’ll be there later.”

As they turned to walk into the back room, Crystal heard a male voice behind them say, “Eh bien, mon gars. Tu me souviens?”

The French spoken in a deep, familiar voice caused the blood to pound in Crystal’s ears.

Raoul.

Philippe could never have forgotten him. As for Crystal …

Both of them swung around at the same time. “Oncle Raoul!” her son cried out in sheer happiness, echoing her unspoken response.

Philippe had said his name so loudly, every head in the store turned in his direction. He pulled his hand away from Crystal’s and flew into the arms of Eric’s thirty-two-year-old brother. Her son threw his arms around his neck, clutching him for dear life. The next thing she knew Raoul was rocking him. She didn’t know which one of them was squeezing harder.

Over Philippe’s shoulder Raoul shot her a glance from eyes she’d always thought of as midnight-blue. At the moment they were neither friendly nor hostile, yet she felt their deep penetration like she’d been injected with a near fatal dose of electricity.

“I was hoping to find out you hadn’t left for the day.” He spoke English in a cultured voice with less of a French accent than Eric had done. “The family told me you’ve been working for your father since you returned from Chamonix.”

“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.

Watching Philippe cling to his uncle’s arm brought back a rush of memories. “We’ll follow you, Mommy!”

“Sounds good. I’ll pull around the front.” She turned away and hurried into the back room for Philippe’s other parka, but her legs were wobbly because she was in shock. By the time she’d climbed in the car and started the motor, fear had snaked through her nervous system.

There was only one reason Raoul would have flown to the States. He’d brought bad news that he felt should be delivered in person. He shouldn’t have come. A phone call would have been better.

She could speculate all she wanted, but whatever was wrong she didn’t think she could handle the pain. They’d all lived through so much with two deaths in the family on top of her trying to bring Philippe out of his depression and help him cope. Yet Raoul was here now, and whatever emergency had brought him here, she would have to deal with it and be strong for Philippe no matter what.

The first fat snowflakes slapped against the windshield, harbingers of what was coming. Through the rearview mirror she watched the white Ford rental car trail behind her. Her heart refused to behave. It really was Raoul behind the wheel. He was in Breckenridge, not Chamonix.

Normally if he left town for any length of time, it was to climb or hike another range of mountains with his best friend, Des, whose home was in the Spanish Pyrenees. When they’d met Des on different occasions, she’d liked him very much. After Suzanne’s death, the two men had spent over two months climbing in the Himalayas. Des had worried about Raoul.

So had she. For a long time after that, Raoul had been so closed up it was like his heart had gone into a deep freeze. Only around Philippe or Vivige’s children had she seen it melt and remind her of the warm, wonderful man he’d once been when Suzanne was alive.

Crystal shivered, remembering that time when the whole family had been so concerned about him. On a personal level, she’d lost a dear friend in Suzanne. Eric had thought the world of her, too. Until her death, when Raoul’s world had collapsed, the four of them had done a lot together.

She bit her lip. A year had gone by without seeing him, except to hear his voice when he called and they spoke briefly before he asked to speak to Philippe. She heard snippets about him in conjunction with the family business, but she knew little about his personal life except for one thing.

The last time she’d talked to Vivige, she’d learned Raoul was seeing some woman named Sylvie Beliveau. The family was hoping it would grow into something serious and were keeping their fingers crossed.

Crystal had tried not to let the news affect her and refused to pry. Aside from her worry over Philippe, she wouldn’t allow any painful reminders from the past to disturb this time of putting a new life together.

It sounded like Raoul had finally come out of his own darkness and was trying to get on with his life. She wished she didn’t want to know what the other woman was like, but certain thoughts pervaded her mind anyway. And now Raoul was here.

Because of his unanticipated arrival this afternoon, her emotions were in chaos and the last year apart might never have been. Already a new form of turmoil was eating away at her insides, destroying whatever little peace of mind she’d been clinging to because an ocean had separated them.

Raoul had fastened Philippe in the backseat, but kept looking at him through the rearview mirror. Philippe could see him in it and they both smiled. “You’ve grown a foot since the last time I saw you.” He spoke in French.

His nephew giggled. “I’ve had a birthday, too,” he responded in the same language. “The model car you sent me is my favorite toy.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Next year I’ll be seven.”

Puzzled by the comment Raoul said, “How come you’re in such a hurry to get older?”

“‘Cause then Mommy will take me back to see you.”

Stunned by the revealing comment, he had to take a fortifying breath. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” Raoul couldn’t imagine loving his own child more than he loved Philippe.

The boy nodded. “I’ve missed you, too. Every time we talked on the phone, you promised you’d come and see me. How come it took you so long?”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. There were several reasons. He hadn’t liked the fact that he’d developed an unwanted attraction to his sister-in-law. It was better they were apart. For a long time he’d been at war with himself to keep things that way. But Philippe didn’t know that, and there was only one safe answer to give him.

“Business has kept me too busy. Your grandfather has been forced to slow down, so I’ve been doing some of his work along with my own.”

“Now that you’re here you can stay at my nana’s with me in the other bed. Sometimes Mommy sleeps in there with me when I cry.”

Raoul sucked in his breath. “Do you cry a lot?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“Sometimes. I miss your father, too.”

“I wish he didn’t have to die. Then we wouldn’t have to live here.”

The tremor in his nephew’s voice caused Raoul’s throat to swell. “I’ve wished that a thousand times, Philippe.” A thousand times. Crystal’s decision to move back to Colorado had angered him. But as the months had worn on and he’d recovered from his initial reaction, he’d realized it was because he’d missed her.

They’d shared a hell of a lot over the years. When she’d left Chamonix for good, he was flung into another void that had nothing to do with the loss of his brother. Insane as it was, he found his thoughts dwelling on her all the time, filling him with guilt that it was she rather than Eric he was missing.

“I’m mad at Mommy.”

Join the club, Philippe.

But Raoul steeled himself not to react. There’d been a major change in Crystal even before Eric’s death. Emotionally he’d felt her push herself away from the family, from him. For his own sense of self-preservation he’d honored the unspoken message to stay away until now. On the flight over, part of him was still fighting the imminent reunion while the other part of him couldn’t wait for it.

He’d stepped off the plane totally conflicted, but seeing her this afternoon brought a whole new set of feelings into the mix.

She no longer had that vivacious girl-next-door look that had been so appealing, she’d made the cover of every sporting magazine and had snared his brother. Their romance had captured the headlines for a long time. For him to have died so young, and leaving a wife and child behind, had taken its toll on everyone.

Remembering Philippe he said, “Why are you upset with your mother?”

“She made us come here. I want to go home.”

There was an unmistakable forlornness in his tone. “Doesn’t Breckenridge feel like home now?”

“No,” came the quiet answer. “My house is in Chamonix.”

So it was … For a six-year-old, Philippe had an intelligence and maturity beyond his years.

“Could I go home with you, Uncle Raoul?”

With that question, Raoul’s thoughts reeled. Since there were things he couldn’t discuss with his nephew until after he’d talked with Crystal, he pretended to misunderstand. “I’ve got a room at the Hotel Des Alpes down the road from your grandpa’s store. If your mother says it’s all right, you can sleep with me tonight.”

“Goody! I always wanted to stay there. It has real sleigh bells inside. Sometimes Mommy lets me go inside to shake them.”

He smiled because everything about Philippe was so endearing. “You like sleigh bells?”

“Yup. They’re like the ones in Grandpa’s storeroom. Remember when you took me and Albert for a sleigh ride?”

It surprised him Philippe remembered so much. Twelve months had passed since they’d left France, yet that memory had stood out. Was Crystal aware of her son’s deepest feelings? Or was she still in too much pain over losing Eric to feel anything these days?

Raoul had gone through the grieving period after Suzanne was killed, but he’d got past it. If they’d had a child together already, it might have taken longer if you saw the face of the person you’d loved every time you looked at your own child. But that hadn’t been the case.

“Tell me about school. What’s your teacher’s name?”

“Ms. Crabtree.”

“Do you like your teacher?”

“She’s all right, but she can’t speak French. Nobody speaks French here.”

He spoke in a voice that said he was bored with the idiocy of people, reminding Raoul of Eric when his brother brushed aside something he found irritating during a conversation. Raoul didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Being with Philippe made the memories fly fast and furiously.

“Your mommy speaks French.” When there was no comment he said, “Have you got a best friend yet?”

“Nope. Albert’s my best friend.” Albert was Philippe’s seven-year-old cousin.

“How come you haven’t made one here?”

“I just haven’t.” A sigh escaped.

That was no answer. There was a lot wrong with Philippe. “You have me.”

“But you live in Chamonix and Mommy won’t take me home.” His nephew’s tears weren’t far away.

“Have you asked her?”

“Yes. But she always cries when I do. My nana told me Mommy’s going to take me back when I’m older, but I want to go now. I wish I could live with you.”

Raoul’s eyes smarted. When he’d driven up here from Denver, he’d imagined he’d find an Americanized boy who’d forgotten his French and Raoul. He had to clear his throat. “Then your mother would feel bad.”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not true,” he said gently.

“She’s mean.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“But she is. When I ask her if I can call you up, she says we have to wait till you call first because you’re too busy.”

Raoul bit down hard. “I’ll have a talk with her about that.” It was his fault. By trying to distance himself from Crystal, he’d gone too far. But that was because of his unbrotherly feelings for her that he’d been trying to fight—without success.

“She’ll get mad I told you.”

“Does she really get mad?”

After a pause Philippe said, “No, but she doesn’t smile.”

Once long ago Crystal’s beautiful smile had been her trademark. “We like our mothers to smile, don’t we?” No matter how much pain everyone is in.

Through the mirror he saw Philippe nod.

When Raoul had watched her jet take off for Colorado, he’d felt like a dark shield had dropped over him. He hadn’t been able to imagine himself smiling again. “Who do you play with at school?”

“Nobody.”

His heart lurched. “Tell me the truth now.”

Philippe’s little chin jutted out. “I am.”

“What do you think is the problem?”

“I heard a couple of the boys talking at recess. They said I’m a geek and have a stupid name.”

Just now Philippe sounded like the brother who’d grown up with Raoul. When Eric got upset, he became obstinate and defensive. It took a lot to pull him out of it. “I bet your teacher is impressed you speak two languages. Those boys are just jealous.”

“What does ‘jealous’ mean?”

“They wish they could be as smart as you. But since they only speak English, they’re mad and say mean things.”

“Oh.”

By the time they reached the mountain home made of wood and glass, Raoul realized his nephew had been living in pain. Unfortunately, the news Raoul had brought meant there was more ahead.

He stepped out of the car into a serious snowstorm and opened the back door for Philippe. “Come on. Let’s get you in the house.” He picked up his nephew and gave him another hug before carrying him up the front steps. On the way he saw Christmas lights twinkling in the window.

Crystal had opened the door for them. The scent of pine wafted past him. Her mother, Liz, flew across the foyer to greet him with a strong hug. On dozens of occasions when Crystal’s parents had come to Chamonix, he’d had the opportunity to spend time with the charming blond woman.

She invited him into the den, which was lined with family pictures, many of them showing Crystal winning ski races with her face rosy and glowing. Several showed her and Eric together, their arms around each other.

This was the first time Raoul had been to Breckenridge, let alone to Crystal’s family home. Though Chamonix and Breckenridge were an ocean apart, being here made him realize how similar their two families’ upbringings had been.

The room had been decked out for Christmas. Their tree with its many colored lights stood in front of the picture window just like the one at his parents’ home, except the decorations were different.

A few days ago he and his brother-in-law, Bernard, who ran an engineering firm for a petroleum business in Chamonix, had set up a Christmas tree for Raoul’s mother in the salon. They’d strung it with the traditional white lights. Vivige had organized their children to put on the ornaments. When Christmas Eve came, the wax candles in the tree’s candle holders would be lighted after they returned from Mass.

That is, if there was going to be a Christmas Eve this year not marred by more tragedy.

He removed his coat. “You have a beautiful home, Liz,” he said at last, gravitating to the warmth coming from the grate fire.

“Thank you. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

After peeling off Philippe’s new coat, she asked her daughter to bring in the appetizers and drinks from the kitchen. “When Crystal called and told me you were on your way up to the house with Philippe, I phoned Todd. He’s thrilled you’ve come and he’s going to bring home pizza for us.”

“Goody! That’s my favorite.” Philippe’s eyes lit on Raoul. “Do you want to see my new computer game? It’s upstairs in my room.”

“Bien sûr.” He glanced at Crystal to get her permission. In the firelight her iridescent blue eyes looked haunted. “Is that all right?”

“Of course.” She’d shed her parka and sat on the end of the couch in jeans and a cherry-colored crewneck sweater. The mold of her curves was the same, but since the last time he’d seen her taking some painkiller while she was waiting for their flight to be called, she’d had her hair cut. Instead of trailing down her back, her hair swished against her shoulders from a side part.

There were other differences, too. As he got up from the chair to join Philippe, it dawned on him the high color he’d always associated with her complexion was missing. Once she’d become pregnant, she’d given up competition skiing. But looking at her right now, she couldn’t even have been doing much pleasure skiing these days. He wished to heaven he didn’t care.

CHAPTER TWO

AFTER DINNER, Philippe begged Raoul to go back upstairs again. Crystal remained behind in the den and talked with her parents in order to give her son private time with his uncle. No one was deceived that he’d come for any other reason than to bring news she didn’t want to hear. But she recognized that Raoul hadn’t let on anything so as not to alarm Philippe.

“Are you all right, honey?” her dad asked.

“Not really.” But it wasn’t something she could discuss with anyone. Once Philippe had actually eaten a whole piece of pizza, they’d disappeared and had been conspicuous by their absence. She checked her watch.

“It’s past Philippe’s bedtime.” She excused herself, gave her father a kiss and walked upstairs with pounding heart. On the way down the hall she heard her son whooping it up. The happy sounds were followed by his uncle’s deep laughter. Philippe had been morose for so long, it was a shock to hear and see him this animated.

When she entered his bedroom, she found him and Raoul having a game of checkers on his bed. His face was flushed with excitement because he was winning.

“I hate to break this up, but it’s time for bed, honey.”

To her surprise he scrambled right off the covers without having to be coaxed. “Uncle Raoul’s going to let me stay with him tonight.”

That was news to Crystal. She shook her head. “There’s a blizzard outside. I don’t want you going out in it.”

Raoul stayed on the bed without saying anything. She could feel his unsettling gaze focused on her.

Philippe pointed to the other bed. “Then he can sleep with me.”

Her son had it all worked out. If he didn’t get his way tonight, there was going to be a war, which in the end she wouldn’t win. Heaving a sigh she said, “Tell you what. Grab yourself some pajamas and take your bath. While you do that, I’ll talk to your uncle. Okay?”

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere, Uncle Raoul.”

“I’ll stay right here.”

“See you in a minute.”

Philippe pulled his green pajamas with dinosaurs from the dresser. On top of it sat Eric’s last framed gold medal won in the men’s downhill. Her bronze medal, won for the women’s downhill, had been framed and was propped next to it. All his other medals were back in Chamonix at his parents’ home. Crystal wanted it that way. The Broussards were so proud of their son. One day when Philippe was grown and had his own place for them, he would want them for himself.

The minute he’d dashed down the hall to the bathroom, she sank down on the other twin bed with her hands on either side to brace herself for whatever was coming. “This is the first chance we’ve had to talk alone. My parents and I are aware you’re here because of some kind of emergency.” She couldn’t prevent the tremor in her voice. “Tell me now before Philippe comes bursting back in the room.”

Raoul put the checkers in the box and got to his feet. His hard muscled physique dominated the room. “Papa came down with a cold two weeks ago that turned into the flu. It hung on and now he has pneumonia. He’s been hospitalized because his asthma flared up again after all these years and has complicated his condition. The doctor says if he doesn’t rally pretty soon, we could lose him by Christmas.”

Crystal’s cry resounded in the bedroom. “He can’t die, Raoul. He just can’t!” She jumped to her feet, hugging her arms to her waist. That was only nine days away. She loved her father-in-law—in fact, the whole family. So did Philippe.

“Mother believes it would do his spirits good if he were to see his grandson again. I agree it would be the best medicine and told her I’d come and talk to you about it in person.”

She averted her eyes, but couldn’t prevent the groan that escaped her throat.

“I’m not unaware you’re building a life for yourself here, Crystal. To fly back to France with Philippe would open up the wound again, but, for all our sakes, I’m asking you to do this. After we buried Eric, Papa worked harder than ever to stave off his grief, but now that he’s ill, he has too much time to think and remember.”

Crystal could relate. All she’d done was think and remember. Jules—Raoul’s father—was still mourning Suzanne’s death, too. All of them had loved her. Two deaths in one family were simply too much. No one understood that better than Crystal.

“I’m so sorry about Jules. This has to be agonizing for everyone.” Especially this soon after Eric. When Raoul didn’t say anything, she eyed him again. “I’m afraid this is hardest on you. With your father in the hospital, you have the whole weight of the family business on your shoulders.”

“Sometimes more work is a blessing.” He darted her a probing glance “Haven’t you found that’s true, too?”

“Yes,” she murmured before looking away guiltily. While Philippe was at school, she’d put in all kinds of extra hours dealing with stock in the back room of her father’s store so she wouldn’t think. If she hadn’t let Eric’s indifference cause her to lose her own identity as a skiing champion, she could be in an entirely different place right now.

Raoul’s unexpected arrival had exposed her deepest concerns and feelings on that score. He made her realize she needed to do something about herself, but for the immediate moment her thoughts were focused on Jules and what would help him most to recover.

“Are your passports still current? Otherwise I’ll request an emergency visa.” He took her capitulation as a fait accompli.

This was one time she had to give in and go. She wanted to, despite all her fears. “That won’t be necessary. Ours are good for another two years.”

“Bon. Then we’ll fly back tomorrow.”

Her thoughts reeled. It meant being with him again, talking to him during the long flight. Obviously the adage of out of sight, out of mind hadn’t worked in her case. She was too thrilled to see him again and had to admit it.

“I took the liberty of making a reservation for the two of you in case you were willing to come.” Raoul was a brilliant man who never left anything to chance. “I wouldn’t worry about Philippe missing school,” he said when she didn’t respond. “After what he told me on the way here in the car, I think a trip home to Chamonix is the medicine he needs, too.”

Home to Chamonix. Those words shook her to the depths. Her breath caught.

“Wh-what did he tell you?” she stammered.

A grimace marred Raoul’s features. “What didn’t he tell me? But he’s out in the hall now, which doesn’t give me time to go over the list.”

No sooner had he spoken than Philippe came bouncing back in the room. Raoul’s hearing had to be more acute than hers because she hadn’t heard anything except the loud thud of her own heart.

Philippe stared at both of them. “Can he stay with us tonight?”

The pleading look in those blue eyes combined with the palpable tension coming from Raoul was too much to take. It hurt her that Philippe had felt comfortable enough to tell Raoul things she hadn’t been able to get out of him. But that was the possessive mother in her talking, and this situation with Philippe was about him, not her.

She moistened her lips nervously, aware of Raoul’s piercing glance. “I have a better idea, honey. Your uncle’s things are back at the hotel. After flying all this way, he needs a good sleep in a big bed.” Before her son had time for a fresh meltdown she added, “And we need time to get our things packed.”

The tears filling his eyes stopped short of dripping down his cheeks. “Where are we going?”

Crystal smoothed her hands over her hips in an unconscious gesture. “I’ll let your uncle tell you.” Above all else, she trusted his discretion.

Raoul got down on his haunches in front of Philippe. “Your grand-père isn’t feeling very well right now, and he’s missing his petit-fils. So I told him I would fly to Colorado and bring you and your mommy back with me. When he sees you, I have an idea he’ll get better in a big hurry. How does that sound?”

She knew how it sounded to Philippe. The only sounds in the room came from his happy sobs as he launched himself into Raoul’s arms. They were such deep sobs, it pained her to think of the damage she’d unwittingly done by staying away from Chamonix so long.

Needing to channel her energy, she went to the closet and pulled down the suitcase she’d stored on one of the shelves. Her eye caught sight of his little striped robe hanging on a hanger. He’d outgrown it, too, but she hadn’t thrown away any of the clothes they’d brought with them. She couldn’t. Suddenly her emotions erupted and she buried her face in the toweling.

“Crystal?”

She quickly wiped off the moisture before turning around. Raoul stood in the doorway to the closet. There wasn’t enough distance separating them for her to breathe normally. His eyes studied her, but she couldn’t read their expression. “I sent Philippe downstairs to tell your parents.”

Another necessary distraction for her son. Raoul had a way with Philippe. While she stood there trying to gather her wits, he picked up the suitcase and moved it to one of the beds. She followed, watching as his fingers smoothed the Chamonix sticker pasted on the outside lid.

It brought back a memory of Raoul buying the sticker at the airport. He’d put it on Philippe’s suitcase. “This is so you won’t forget me.” He’d kissed his nephew, who’d been in tears. His finger motion just now conveyed the feelings of that painful day more powerfully than any words could do. It sent a tremor through her body. She’d never forgotten Raoul. That would be impossible.

“What time is check-in at the airport in the morning?”

Her question seemed to jar him from his thoughts. He lifted his dark head. “Eight o’clock.”

“With this storm, we’ll have to leave Breckenridge by five to make it.”

Through his dark lashes he flashed her a shuttered glance. “I’ll be here. We can eat breakfast at the airport while we’re waiting to board our flight.”

She nodded and opened the suitcase. “We’ll be ready.”

Philippe came running back in the room. “Nana and Grandpa said they’re going to miss me, but I told them Grand-père is sick and missed me, too.” He looked up at Raoul with a soulful expression. “Do you have to leave now?”

“Don’t worry.” He swept Philippe up in his arms once more. “We’ll see each other first thing in the morning. Right now you need to mind your mother and go to sleep because it’ll be a long flight to Geneva tomorrow.”

“That’s not Chamonix.”

Raoul chuckled. “No. Geneva’s in Switzerland. We’ll pick up my car at the airport and drive home.”

“Will it take a long time?”

“Only about an hour.”

Philippe looked at Crystal. “Will we go to our house?”

The house he was referring to had actually been a condo she and Eric had rented. At one time she’d assumed they would buy a house of their own, but as problems arose in their 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. Jules will be overjoyed. We’ve missed you both so much.”

Crystal hugged her hard, thinking Arlette was a little thinner. Because she was shorter than Crystal’s five-foot-seven frame, she seemed even smaller to her this time. “We’ve missed you, too,” she whispered. “I can’t bear it that Jules is so ill.”

“Neither can I.” The older woman wiped her eyes. “Now that you’ve come, I know he’ll start to feel better.”

“I pray that’s true.” As she looked around, she realized Philippe had gone inside the house with Raoul. Arlette hooked her arm through Crystal’s and drew her past the door. Once it was closed, they went up the stairs to the first floor. The place had been transformed into a Christmas fairyland.

“It’s beautiful, Arlette.”

“We can thank Raoul. He got Bernard to help him set up everything for me.”

What would their family do without Raoul? He carried the emotional weight and still managed to do his own work and everyone else’s. Crystal marveled at his capacity.

Philippe ran over to the tree. “There’s Père Noël!” He remembered.

“Don’t touch it, honey. Those wooden ornaments are very precious.”

“He can touch whatever he wants,” Arlette countered, like the loving grandmother she was. “Go ahead, Philippe. Take it off the branch. It’s yours to keep.”

“Goody!”

“You can have a piece of marzipan in that candy dish, too.”

“Mmm.” He stuffed one in his mouth while he ran over to inspect the fabulous hand-painted grandfather clock that had just struck the half hour. Philippe had always loved to stand in front of it and wait to hear the chimes. Little Hansel and Gretel figures came out, fascinating him.

“I’ve put your suitcases in the upstairs bedroom,” Raoul informed Crystal. He’d just walked into the room still wearing his bomber jacket. She took one look at him and felt her heart turn over and over. It had been doing that since the moment she’d heard his voice at her father’s store, almost as if it had a life of its own.

“Thank you.”

“Hey—here’s my daddy!” Philippe cried out with his mouth still full of candy. With the small, red-painted wooden figure of a solemn Father Christmas clutched in one hand, her son used his other hand to pick up a small framed picture of his father in his ski outfit. Arlette had placed it on the long credenza with many other family pictures. Everyone in the family was represented.

He picked up another picture and showed it to Raoul. “This is Tante Suzanne, huh?”

Crystal squeezed her eyes closed for a second. This was the hard part.

“Yes.”

“She died, huh.”

“That’s right.”

“Was she skiing like Daddy?”

“No. It was spring and she died in an aerial tram accident.”

Suzanne had gone hiking with some people from the office where she’d worked. They’d taken an aerial tram so they could start their hike way up in the mountains. But it had been hit by gale force winds and fell, killing her. Crystal winced to think about the bare bones details again.

“Oh,” Philippe said in a quiet voice. “Do you still cry?”

“Not anymore, but I’ll never forget her.”

Philippe let out a big sigh and wandered over to his uncle, putting an arm around him. “I don’t cry as much, either.” Oh, Philippe. “Mommy says Daddy’s in heaven. Do you think Suzanne’s in heaven, too?”

“Yes.”

The scene was too much for Arlette, whose eyes had filled. With a husband lying ill, she didn’t need more of this conversation.

“Come on, honey.” Crystal took hold of his hand. “We need to go upstairs and freshen up. Then we’ll go over to the hospital to see your grandfather.”

Philippe pulled back and looked up at her in alarm. “How come he’s in there?”

“Remember your uncle told you he was sick?”

“Yes,” he said in a tentative voice.

“Well, the hospital is the best place for him to get better.”

“Does he know I’m coming?” he asked as Crystal walked up the stairs to the next floor with him.

“I don’t think so. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“I like surprises.”

“He will too when he sees you walk in his room.”

Crystal didn’t need to ask where Arlette had put them. Raoul had already told them. Since Philippe’s birth, Eric’s old room had a double and a twin bed. On the dresser someone had put up a little Christmas tree with lights. More of Raoul’s doing? Along with the décor there were some games and dozens of his father’s mementos and trophies for Philippe to enjoy.

Photos of Eric at different ages lined one wall. Another one held pictures of baby Philippe’s christening at St. Michel church, plus more pictures of the three of them. Eric and his son looked almost identical at the age Philippe was now. Her boy was delighted by everything.

She thought she might not be able to handle this painful trip down memory lane, but it turned out she was wrong. If anything, she looked at the smiling couple and their baby with the perspective of time on her side.

The birth of Philippe and the few weeks after when Eric had spent more time at home to be with her and the baby had been the last period of happiness in their marriage. Once the weighty responsibility of parenthood had descended, she’d thrown herself into it with the kind of joy she couldn’t have imagined before becoming a mother. But in so doing, she’d caused an unwitting division between her and Eric that had only grown wider and unbridgeable with time.

Today she could admit the truth to herself. If he hadn’t died, she knew deep inside she would have ended up in Breckenridge and a divorce would have followed. What was the old adage? Dignity in death, disgrace in divorce? It was an awful saying. In both cases there was loss. Period.

Raoul went inside the hospital room ahead of the others. He saw a new addition to all the flowers since he’d last been in here. A beautiful Christmas red poinsettia had been delivered. The get-well card was from Crystal’s parents. Jules would be touched.

His thoughts flew to Philippe. He knew it would frighten him to see his graying grandfather on oxygen with an IV in his arm. In the last few weeks he’d lost ten pounds with the flu. His gaunt appearance made him look closer to seventy than sixty-five.

The doctor couldn’t account for Jules getting so ill at his age, but they both agreed the two deaths in the family had probably been too much for him. Despite all his hard work, he was a family man through and through and lived for his children. Eric’s death had robbed him of his joie de vivre. If anyone could bring it back, it would be Philippe, who had certain mannerisms and features inherited from his father.

“Papa?”

“Ah, Raoul. You’ve been gone so long.” He grasped his hand and wept.

It killed him to see his father like this. “I’ve brought someone with me. Are you up for company?”

His eyelids fluttered open to half mast. “Bien sûr,” he murmured in a voice half as strong as normal.

“I’ll be right back.”

He hurried over to the door and opened it. Three worried pairs of eyes fastened on him. “How is he?” his mother asked.

“He’s awake.”

“Can I see him?” Philippe whispered.

“What do you think?” He reached for his nephew’s hand and they walked over to the left side of the bed. Crystal and his mother followed and stood on the right. Raoul was surprised Philippe didn’t flinch at all the tubes.

“Hi, Grand-père. It’s me.”

Again his father’s eyelids opened, alert to a new voice in the room. “Me, who?”

Philippe giggled. “You know who I am.” In case Jules couldn’t see him well, Raoul lifted him in his arms.

His father’s gray-blue eyes swerved to his grandson before glazing over with tears. “Ah … my boy, my boy. Come closer and give your grand-père

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