“Ice climbing?” AJ perked up yet again.
Oh, geez, thought Bo. Ice climbing?
“When a waterfall freezes, it creates a thick wall of ice.
That’s where we did the photo shoot. I’m told it’s a great way to climb, fun and challenging. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
They both regarded Bo expectantly.
“Sure,” he said. “I can think of no better way to injure myself right before my first major-league season.”
“The town has a winter carnival,” Kim went on. “I’ve never been here for it, but I’m told it’s a big event.”
“I was here for it last year,” Bo volunteered.
“What was it like?” asked AJ.
“Hell—heck—I stayed inside where it was warm,” said Bo. “They have ice-hockey tournaments, stuff like that. Oh, and there’s this insane race—an Iron Man triathlon. Noah does it every year. It involves snowshoeing, dogsledding and cross-country skiing.” Bo shuddered.
“Dogsledding?” AJ’s eyes lit up. “You mean, like in the Iditarod?”
Kim nodded. “Mush, and all that. I bet Noah would take you and your dad.”
“Forget it,” Bo said.
“Excellent,” AJ said.
“Man, for a kid who doesn’t like sports, you’re sure interested in trying a lot of them,” Bo remarked.
“So can we go dogsledding with Noah?”
“We’ll see.”
“Heads up,” Kim said, lifting the safety bar. “We’re near the top. Now, remember what I showed you about getting off the lift. Just step off and slide away from the chair. Ready?”
No, thought Bo.
“Yes,” AJ said, leaning forward.
“Here we go.” Kim put her arms around AJ and helped him glide smoothly off the chair lift.
Bo fell on his ass. “Hey,” he wailed. “This sucks.”
“You’ll be fine.” Kim extended her hand to him. “Get up and let’s get our boards on.”
A few minutes later, they had fastened their booted feet onto the snowboards, and they stood together at the top of the slope. It was marked with a green sign.
“Green means this is the easiest way down,” Kim explained.
Bo regarded the long, forbidding incline with gut-clenching dread. “The way I see it, the easiest way down is with those guys.” He gestured at a toboggan being towed behind a snowmobile.
“That’s the ski patrol bringing an injured person off the mountain,” Kim said. “You don’t want to leave like that.”
Bo still wanted to leave. Yet one glimpse of AJ’s face reminded him to keep his mouth shut. The boy’s eyes shone. There was no other word to capture that bright, intense glow of interest. Maybe Kim was onto something here. Here was a chance to connect with AJ, give him something to like about this place. And maybe even about his father.
“I’ve never stood on top of a mountain before,” AJ said. “It’s like being on top of the world.”
Kim took a cell-phone picture of him. “You are on top of the world. Come on, guys. Let’s go snowboarding.”
All around them, skiers and snowboarders zipped past, seeming to coast down the hill. Bo and AJ spent more time on their butts than on their boards. There was a silver lining, though. In order to help Bo get up on his board, Kim spent a lot of time clutching him around the waist, trying to hold him upright. Eventually, they reached the bottom. Bo yearned to call it quits, but it was no use—she made them ride the lift back up and do it all over again. And again.
AJ picked up the basics fairly quickly. “Hey, check it out,” he yelled on the third or fourth run, easing down the hill like a surfer in slow motion. “Hey, it’s working.”
“How come he picked it up so fast?” Bo demanded, frustrated.
“He’s got a lower center of gravity. That helps,” Kim said.
“Yeah? What’s going to help me?”
“I will.” She grabbed his waist, coaching him until he managed to keep his balance. She was stronger than she looked, manhandling him into position. She coaxed and guided him down the hill, showing a patience and forbearance he hadn’t known she possessed.
“Hold me tighter,” he said as they made their way to the bottom. “I don’t want to fall.”
It was too late, though. He was already falling. The snowy surface raced up to meet him, gathering speed. He and Kim went down together, hitting the ground in an explosion of fresh snow.
AJ didn’t exactly laugh aloud, but he couldn’t keep the amusement from his eyes. “You look like the abominable snowman,” he called, laughter flowing behind him as he glided down the hill.
“I’ve been trying to make him smile for days,” Bo said. “Turns out all it took was wiping out in a snowbank.” He felt a lump of snow slither down his neck. “This is humiliating.”
“But worth it,” she said, offering her hand to help him up.
“Why? Because I get to grab you?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Look.”
At the bottom of the hill, AJ was talking to some kids his age. Bo forgot his misery for a moment as he watched them laughing together. Laughing. Bo didn’t think there was anything sweeter in life than seeing your kid laugh. Friends could make all the difference.
The boys were still hanging out when Bo wobbled to a halt near AJ. “I made it down again,” he said. “All in one piece. But you beat me by a mile.”
“Uh, yeah.” AJ’s smile disappeared. Clearly, he wasn’t sure what to do in the situation.
Bo took off his goggles. “Bo Crutcher,” he said, greeting the kids. “And this is Miss Kimberly van Dorn.”
The boys introduced themselves. Bo couldn’t tell whether they were more impressed by the fact that they were talking to Bo Crutcher or by the fact that Kim was a world-class looker. One guy, Vinny Romano, declared himself a die-hard Hornets fan. “I went to every single home game last summer,” he said. “You had an awesome season.”
“Thanks,” said Bo.
“I came to your pitching clinic,” said another boy, whose name was Tad.
“You did,” Bo confirmed. “I remember you. You’re a
