"Yes." Demonides's voice was thoughtful. "I see what you mean. Where are you, Mr. Reynolds?"
"I'm staying at the Palace Hotel in St. Moritz."
"Let me check this out, and I'll get back to you."
"I would appreciate it. The truth is, I think Miss Alexander may be imagining things, and I'd like to straighten this out and relieve her mind."
"I understand. You will hear from me. I promise."
The air was bright and crisp, and the beauty of Catherine's surroundings dispelled her terrors of the night before.
The two of them breakfasted in the village, and when they had finished, Reynolds said, "Let's go over to the ski slope and turn you into a snow bunny."
He took Catherine over to the beginners' slope and hired an instructor for her.
Catherine got into her skis, and stood up. She looked down at her feet. "This is ridiculous. If God had meant us to look like this, our fathers would have been trees."
"What?"
"Nothing, Kirk."
The instructor smiled. "Don't worry. In no time at all you'll be skiing like a pro, Miss Alexander. We'll start out at Corviglia Sass Ronsol. That's the beginner's slope."
"You'll be surprised at how quickly you'll get the hang of it," Reynolds assured Catherine.
He looked over at a ski run in the distance, and turned to the instructor. "I think I'll try Fuorcla Grischa today."
"It sounds delicious. I'll have mine grilled," Catherine said.
Not a smile. "It's a ski run, darling."
"Oh." Catherine felt embarrassed to tell him it was a joke. I mustn't do that around him, Catherine thought.
The instructor said, "The Grischa's a pretty steep run. You might start out on the Corviglia Standard Marguns to warm up, Mr. Reynolds."
"Good idea. I'll do that. Catherine, I'll meet you at the hotel for lunch."
"Fine."
Reynolds waved and walked away.
"Have a nice time," Catherine called. "Don't forget to write."
"Well," the instructor said. "Let's go to work."
To Catherine's surprise, the lessons turned out to be fun. She was nervous in the beginning. She felt awkward and moved up the small slope clumsily.
"Lean forward a little. Keep your skis pointed forward."
"Tell them. They have a mind of their own," Catherine declared.
"You're doing fine. Now we're going down the slope. Bend your knees. Get your balance. There you go!"
She fell.
"Once more. You're doing fine."
She fell again. And again. And suddenly, she found her sense of balance. And it was as though she had wings. She sailed down the slope, and it was exhilarating. It was almost like flying. She loved the crunch of the snow beneath her skis and the feel of the wind batting at her face.
"I love it!" Catherine said. "No wonder people get hooked on this. How soon can we do the big slope?"
The instructor laughed. "Let's stay with this for today. Tomorrow, the Olympics."
All in all, it was a glorious morning.
She was waiting for Kirk Reynolds in the Grill Room when he returned from skiing. His cheeks were ruddy and he looked animated. He walked up to Catherine's table and sat down.
"Well," he asked, "how did it go?"
"Great. I didn't break anything important. I only fell down six times. And you know something?" she said proudly. "Toward the end I got pretty good. I think he's going to enter me in the Olympics."
Reynolds smiled. "Good." He started to mention the phone call he had made to Peter Demonides, and then decided against it. He did not want to have Catherine upset again.
After lunch they went for a long walk in the snow, stopping in at some of the shops to browse. Catherine was beginning to feel tired.
"I think I'd like to go back to the room," she said. "I might take a little nap."
"Good idea. The air's pretty thin here, and if you're not used to it you can get tired easily."
"What are you going to do, Kirk?"
He looked up at a distant slope. "I think I might ski down the Grischa. I've never done it before. It's a challenge."
"You mean - 'because it's there.'"
"What?"
"Nothing. It looks so dangerous."
Reynolds nodded. "That's why it's a challenge."
Catherine took his hand. "Kirk, about last night. I'm sorry. I...I'll try to do better."
"Don't worry about it. Go back to the hotel and get some sleep."
"I will."
Catherine watched him walk away and thought, He's a wonderful man. I wonder what he sees in an idiot like me?
Catherine slept during the afternoon, and this time there were no dreams. When she awakened it was almost six o'clock. Kirk would be returning soon.
Catherine bathed and dressed, thinking about the evening ahead of her. No, not the evening, she admitted to herself, the night. I'll make it up to him.
She went to the window and looked out. It was beginning to get dark. Kirk must really be enjoying himself, Catherine thought. She looked up at the huge slope in the distance. Is that the Grischa? I wonder if I'll ever be able to ski down that.
At seven o'clock Kirk Reynolds still had not returned. The twilight had turned to a deep blackness. He can't be skiing in the dark, Catherine thought. I'll bet he's in the bar downstairs having a drink.
She started for the door just as the phone rang.
Catherine smiled. I was right. He's calling me to ask me to join him downstairs.
She lifted the receiver and said brightly, "Well, did you come across any Sherpas?"