Up among the peaks, he somehow felt more alive, as though he could breathe more deeply, stand taller, become more than what he was. Whether it was because skiing was in his blood or whether he’d become a skier because of his love for the mountains, it was the place that was right for him.
They stared down at the sweep of turf that spread out below them. To their left, the sculpted curve of the new half pipe was already lightly grassed over. Across the valley, the Hotel Mount Jefferson gleamed white in the morning sun.
Gabe turned to stare thoughtfully at the point where the new downhill run tapered into the main slope. “You did a hell of a job.”
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