Snow Baby. Brenda Novak

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      CHANTEL COULDN’T STOP shaking. Long after Dillon and Stacy had left, she sat in the living room, staring out the window at the crumpled fender of her car and wondering how much more could go wrong before something finally went right. She’d almost died last night. If not for Dillon, she would have fallen asleep and never awoken. But he’d come for her, risked his own life to save hers, and his sacrifice and all they’d shared afterward had forged a bond so quick and sure Chantel wasn’t sure how to sever it. She only knew that she had to. For Stacy.

      How ironic that it would come to this, she thought. Or maybe it was simply justice.

      The telephone rang, and Chantel glanced at the Formica counter where it sat on top of a narrow phone book. She had no desire to talk to anyone. She had even less energy. But the ringing wouldn’t stop.

      After several minutes she climbed to her feet and walked slowly across the room to answer it. “Hello?”

      “Chantel?”

      It was Dillon. Chantel’s breath caught at the sound of his voice, and the memories of last night crowded closer. Memories of a rough jaw against her temple, words of passion in her ear. “I thought you were skiing.”

      “I’m in the lodge. I wanted to talk to you.”

      “Where’s Stacy?”

      “She took the lift up with the others.”

      There was an awkward pause.

      “Listen, Chantel, I just want to say that I was sincere last night, that it was real. I didn’t mention Stacy because she and I have only dated a few times. And nothing’s ever happened. I mean, we haven’t had sex or anything, in case you’re worried about that.”

      Part of Chantel was relieved to think he hadn’t slept with Stacy. A bigger part of her cringed to imagine what her sister would do if she found out about the two of them. “She cares about you, Dillon.”

      “I care about her, too. We’ve been friends for almost two years.”

      “So you wouldn’t want to hurt her.”

      “Of course not.”

      Chantel took a deep breath. “Then you understand why this—whatever it is that sprang up between us—can’t go on.”

      Silence. Then, “I’m not sure I understand at all.”

      “Stacy’s my sister, Dillon.”

      “A fact I’m not likely to forget and one I wasn’t very happy to discover. But I’m not sure I’m willing to give up a relationship that could work for one that wasn’t going anywhere to begin with.”

      Chantel blinked against the tears welling in her eyes. She thought they’d shared something special; it was gratifying that Dillon felt the same way. But it made no difference in the end. Because nothing mattered except regaining Stacy’s trust and proving herself a true friend and sister at last. She needed to do that for herself as much as her sister. “I just…can’t.”

      “Why? I’m not saying we have to do anything right now. We can give it some time, let things cool off—”

      “No. I don’t want to be responsible for you backing away from Stacy. Last night was a mistake. I’m sorry, Dillon.”

      Chantel hung up while she still had the mental fortitude to do so. She didn’t want him aware of the turmoil inside her. If he sensed her doubt, he’d push, and she couldn’t afford that. Couldn’t afford to be tempted into forgetting all her new goals and desires. Especially her desire to be the type of sister she should have been in the first place.

      The phone rang again, but Chantel refused to answer it. She wouldn’t open the door between her and Dillon, not even a crack. She was going to be bigger than she’d been before. Stronger and better. Safer.

      “It’s too complicated, Dillon,” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

      The phone kept ringing, on and on. Finally she covered her ears and wept.