Trails Merge

  Synopsis

  Every skier knows that anything can happen when trails merge.

  After a devastating ultimatum from her lover, Campbell Carson returns to her childhood home, Bear Run Ski Resort, seeking her family’s unconditional solace and support. Parker Riley escapes to the mountain after the high-powered world of Chicago’s political machine leaves her questioning her judgment in both life and love. Despite their initial wariness, the women find their budding friendship snowballing toward romance. The idyllic mountain resort is the perfect setting for them to learn to rebuild trust, and perhaps to find a second chance at love. However, when Parker’s past resurfaces, Campbell is forced to face her own hard truths. As barely healed wounds reopen, the unexpected obstacles in their path threaten any hope for a future together.

  Trails Merge

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

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  By the Author

  Learning Curve

  Trails Merge

  The Long Way Home

  Trails Merge

  © 2008 By Rachel Spangler. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-392-1

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: December 2008

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Shelley Thrasher and Stacia Seaman

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)

  Acknowledgments

  Trails Merge has had several drafts and the story has evolved somewhat from my original concept, but at its heart it remains a story about families. There are families we’re born into, the families we join, and the families we create. Like my characters, I am a part of many families, and I am greatly indebted to each of them.

  The first is a family I’ve been lucky enough to join at Bold Strokes Books. Thank you to Rad for creating this family of writers and letting me be a part of it. Thanks also go out to my amazing editor Shelley Thrasher for her endless patience with me and to Jennifer Knight for her continued oversight. As always, Sheri’s covers are impressive, and she gets extra thanks this time for incorporating my own picture of a trails merge sign that was impeccably shot by Will Banks, another person I consider myself lucky to have as part of several of my families. I also owe a debt of gratitude to Stacia Seaman for her fine eye and penchant for detail. Another member of that family of choice, Toni Whitaker, is not only an endless source of friendship and support, but she did me the great honor of serving as a beta reader. Finally, I am so proud to be a part of the family of amazing writers and fans on the Bold Strokes Authors Connect mailing list. They keep me inspired with conversations about craft and entertained with discussions of everything else; I am grateful for both.

  Moving on to my family of birth, I am proud to say all of the sweet and supportive family members you see in this book are inspired by my own family members. While many people have friends they consider family, I also have family that are among my best friends. My parents, my brother, my large extended network of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins have all played a part in making me who I am today. I know I could call any one of them, at any time, for any reason, and they would be there for me. I am truly blessed to have each and every one of them in my life.

  Last and most important is the family I’ve created. Susie, the love of my life, you give me the strength and the inspiration to chase my dreams. Without your influence I’d be only a shadow of my true self. And Jackson, the light of my life, you’ve shown me the meaning of unconditional love. I became whole the minute I became your mom. You two have reaffirmed that nothing in this life is more consuming or fulfilling than the connections that tie us together as one. Come what may.

  Dedication

  To Susie and Jackson

  You are my greatest adventure.

  And Susie, it’s still your fault!

  Prologue

  Where was Lynn? She should have been home hours ago. Campbell Carson paced the living room like a caged bear. She had run out of things to do in her small apartment in Madison, Wisconsin. She had packed their suitcases, watered the plants, and gassed up the car. All she was waiting on was Lynn Meyers, her partner of five years.

  She had waited on Lynn a lot over the past few years, so she should have been used to it. But Campbell always played Charlie Brown and trusted Lucy to hold the football upright. And she never did. Like a fool, Campbell had still hoped when Lynn said she would be home by noon she actually would be. Now it was late afternoon and Lynn had only just called to say she was leaving the office.

  Lynn put in long hours as a gay-and-lesbian-rights advocate for Wisconsin Equality, a special-interest group with political and philanthropic agendas. Campbell understood that. But did Lynn really have to work these particular hours on this particular Saturday afternoon? She was obviously trying to put off their upcoming visit to Campbell’s family at Bear Run.

  Campbell had been named godmother to her newest cousin, and the christening was tomorrow morning, followed by a celebration at the small family-run ski resort. Lynn didn’t enjoy the trips to see Campbell’s family but had promised to make the most of this occasion. Surely she knew how important it was to Campbell.

  Campbell hadn’t seen her family in five months, and even then Lynn had been too busy to go with her. She resented the time away from the city, and she resented Campbell’s connection with her large, extended family. She always found something to complain about—the lack of cell-phone reception, the way Campbell’s mother hovered over her children, or the lack of nightlife on the mountain. Lynn didn’t have a good relationship with her own relatives, and she couldn’t understand Campbell’s desire to stay close to hers.

  Still, Campbell thought a weekend on the mountain would be good for them. Lynn was overworked and they hadn’t spent any quality time together in weeks. They needed to reconnect. Campbell was lonely and ready for some time away from the fund-raisers, business dinners, and late-night phone calls that had taken over their life in the past year as Lynn climbed the career ladder.

  Campbell’s days weren’t bad, since she worked with an underprivileged youth program at the local YMCA and enjoyed the time she spent with the kids. But her nights were long, and the weekends dragged on forever, with Lynn working so much. They got out often, but usually for a political event Lynn needed to attend, and their peer group consisted entirely of her business associates and colleagues who were as busy and driven as Lynn.

  “Hey, honey.” Lynn bustled through the door and immediately began to change clothes.

  Campbell smiled at the flash of porcelain skin she glimpsed as Lynn traded one dress shirt for another. Lynn was every bit as stunning as the day they met in college.

  She was still every bit as passionate and outspoken, too, and hot tempered as her flame-red hair indicated, which was why Campbell instantly fell in love with her, and that love hadn’t wavered.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I just got an interview with a staffer of one of the senators who’s been stalling the hate-crimes bill.”

  “That’s g
reat,” Campbell said. “You’ve been working on this bill all spring. Why wouldn’t I want to hear that?”

  “Because the meeting is tonight at eight thirty,” Lynn said, heading toward their bedroom.

  Campbell’s heart sank, but she wasn’t eager to start a fight. They’d been having a lot of them lately. “Okay, I guess we’ll just go up late tonight.”

  Lynn’s brow gathered in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “What?” Campbell thought she might be getting it, but she didn’t want to admit that possibility yet.

  “I’m not going to Bear Run this weekend.” Lynn pulled a suit jacket off a hanger in the closet before she added, “If I never go there again, I wouldn’t mind.”

  “I know you don’t like Bear Run, but I’m the godmother. I have to be at the baptism.”

  “Well, that’s your fault for going along with that antiquated idea. But you won’t catch me sitting in some small-town church pretending to be interested in a ceremony I don’t even agree with.” Lynn began to raise her voice, a sign she was about to go on a tear.

  “Okay, you don’t have to, and when we have kids, we don’t have to have them baptized,” Campbell said, trying to pacify her, but she knew immediately that she’d said something wrong.

  “Are you serious?” Lynn stopped dead and her light green eyes flashed with anger. “Are you freaking serious? When we have kids? You see? That’s why I don’t want you going up there. You spend two days on Walton Mountain and you start acting like a goddamn straight girl.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair.” Campbell was tired of having this argument. “You can be a lesbian and still have a relationship with your family.”

  “And live in a small town, take over the ski business, raise another generation of Carson kids? Give me a break. If you want to act straight, you need to find someone else to do it with,” Lynn snapped.

  Campbell recoiled. “You don’t mean that,” she finally whispered.

  “I do, Campbell. I mean it. No self-respecting lesbian would ever settle for the life you’re dreaming of. If you take that road, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone.” Lynn grabbed her briefcase. “I’m off to my meeting now. While I’m gone, decide whether you want to be a dyke or play heterosexual homemaker at Bear Run.”

  Campbell barely heard the door slam as Lynn left. The pain would come eventually, but she felt nothing as she processed the ultimatum. She could either be with the woman she loved in a life she hated, or she could live the life she loved with the people she loved, but she would do it alone. She wasn’t eager to choose, but Lynn had left her few options.

  Sadly she picked up her suitcase, leaving Lynn’s on the floor, then slipped the key to the apartment from her pocket, placed it on the coffee table, and closed the door behind her.

  Chapter One

  Six Months Later

  Parker Riley shouldered open the door to her new office, a box of her personal belongings in one arm and a stack of file folders in the other. She dropped the box and folders on top of an old wooden desk and looked around. The walls had probably been white at one point, but they were now dingy and yellowish. The thick brown carpet shaded from light to dark in various parts of the room, depending on the amount of direct sunlight it had been subjected to over the years. The ceilings, in keeping with the alpine theme of the old building, peaked high and then sloped drastically downward, with a window set back in the dormers on each of the outside walls.

  She walked over to a window and had to admit the view wasn’t unattractive. The fall colors were almost at their brightest, painting brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges across the rows of trees that climbed the steep incline of the terrain.

  “Not bad,” she mumbled to herself, then shook her head, “but it’s not Chicago.”

  She trudged back to her desk and flopped into a rickety swivel chair. It gave more than she expected, and she grabbed the sides of the desk to keep from tumbling backward. After steadying herself, she rubbed her forehead and wondered if this near fall was a metaphor for her life. Fallen politicians, leading to a fall in her career, topped off by the falling apart of a two-year relationship. Now she was reduced to falling out of old desk chairs at Bear Run Ski Hill in Wisconsin.

  The possibility was almost too depressing to contemplate, but before she had time to dwell on it, a knock interrupted her pity party. Emery Carson, her new boss, stepped through the doorway.

  “Well, I guess you found the place all right,” he said as he glanced around the office.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Parker replied, not sure what else to say to the man who stood there. He wore Carhart overalls and muddy work boots, not exactly business attire where Parker came from, but she would probably see a lot more of it. Emery wasn’t as old as she had assumed during her initial interview, maybe in his mid to late forties. He was clean shaven and smelled pleasantly of Cool Water cologne, but he was far from the slick and polished Ivy Leaguers she usually worked for. And while she immediately liked him, she was at a loss about what to say to him. Finally, she fell back on the one thing she knew—her job.

  “I should start researching the clientele demographics to see what I have to deal with. Where can I get the spec sheets of season-pass holders for the past five years? Also, the conference bookings for as far back as you have them would be helpful.”

  “The conference ledgers are in the main office, but our bookkeeper doesn’t come in on weekends,” Emery said, running his fingers through his perfectly coiffed golden hair. “And we’ve never compiled any spec sheets on season-pass holders. We have a list of names and phone numbers on the computer, though.”

  “Okay, that’s a start.” Parker tried not to let her frustration with the lack of record-keeping show. “Can I have those?”

  “They’re in the front office, too. I can get you a key, but if you wait until Monday, the secretary will print everything out for you. Why don’t you take some time to settle in?”

  Parker thought of all the boxes the movers had unceremoniously dropped in the living room of her apartment less than a mile from the resort. “Okay, I guess I can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Not tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  Parker paused, trying to follow Emery’s logic.

  “Nobody works Sundays here during the off season. It’s a day of rest.”

  Parker stood up. Sitting down when someone else was standing put her in a one-down position. “I’m not really a religious person.”

  “Neither am I.” Emery chuckled. “But once the snow flies, we won’t get a break around here for a solid six months, so take the time now.”

  Parker nodded, not wanting to disagree so early on her first day. “If you say so.”

  “Sleep in or unpack in the morning. Then you can meet the rest of the year-round staff at the softball game in the afternoon.”

  “Softball game?”

  “Yeah, there’s a makeshift field over by the summer picnic area. Everyone who’s available meets there around one o’clock on Sundays for a pickup game.”

  “Oh, I’m not good at sports.” Parker tried to back out gracefully.

  “None of us are.” Emery laughed. “It’s mostly a bunch of middle-aged men trying to recapture our youth. You can just watch. Some of the wives join in, and some of them sit around and make fun of us. Either way, you can meet some folks before you start work on Monday.”

  “Sounds fun.” Parker tried to force a smile, even though she would rather poke herself with a sharp stick than spend an afternoon playing jock with a bunch of farm boys.

  “Great.” Emery smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

  “See you then.” Parker kept her fake smile until Emery shut the door behind him. Then she dropped back into the desk chair, remembering to catch herself before it tipped her backward. What had she gotten herself into this time?

  *

  Parker cringed at the sight of her apartment. The movers had been oblivious to the official labels she had painstakingly c
reated and attached to each box to detail its contents and which room it belonged in. Instead, they had dropped everything in a series of haphazard piles just inside the door. Parker slipped through the available space left by the half-open door and wove between stacks of boxes, picking a path through the mess toward the kitchen.

  When she finally made it to the refrigerator, she found a lone carton of beef chow mein she’d picked up on her drive from Chicago to Bear Run. She grabbed it and sniffed before she succumbed to the inevitable and tossed it into the microwave. The only other item not still in a box was an unopened bottle of red wine she had bought at one of the wine-and-cheese huts that seemed to be the only type of shops that survived in this part of Wisconsin.

  “Well,” Parker mumbled to herself as she grabbed the bottle of wine, “red meat does call for red wine.” She closed the door to the now completely barren fridge and searched through the maze of boxes for a corkscrew and a wineglass. When she didn’t find the glasses right away, she realized most of her fragile items had probably ended up beneath several heavier boxes, perhaps her books or her free weights.

  She wandered back into the kitchen and retrieved the steaming beef and noodles and uncorked the wine. Sitting at the kitchen table, she used a plastic fork that came with the carryout and shrugged at how desperate she would look to anyone who might see her. But that thought didn’t stop her from swigging directly from the bottle.

  When she was about halfway through her meal, her cell phone rang shrilly.

  She finished swallowing a mouthful of noodles as she fished the phone from her pocket. “Parker Riley.”