by Vella Munn
“I wish we each had our own machine,” Haley said as she handed Shaw one of the helmets she kept on hand. “Our combined weight is going to slow us down.”
“Could we get stuck?”
“Hopefully not. That’s why I’m going to drive.” She waited for him to object. When he didn’t, she put on her helmet. When Shaw frowned, something occurred to her. “Have you ever been on one?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “It’s like riding a motorcycle only different, right?”
Being given the keys to a snowmobile and encouraged to ride it all out had been one of the things that had kept her from going crazy after her mother’s death. She saw still snowmobiles as freedom. Shaw probably didn’t realize what he’d been missing, but she felt sorry for him. He spent too much time in that small office of his when the miles and miles of wilderness around Lake Serene promised—what?
Weary of her introspection, she climbed on the machine. Shaw settled himself behind her. His legs brushed hers and his chest warmed her back. He’d placed his hands on his knees. Maybe he was keeping as much distance as possible between them, but it wouldn’t be enough to allow her to ignore him.
A few advance storm clouds were moving in, but it was warmer than it had been yesterday. Between the machine’s heater and the protection the windshield provided, she was relatively comfortable. Shaw would be subjected to more of what winter had to offer but his dark gray snow suit looked up to the task. Of course if she yanked down on the front zipper—
As they picked up speed, she readied herself for him leaning into her, but he continued to sit upright. Probably he was taking in his surroundings while only marginally aware of his traveling companion. She would be if this was her first time out. However, it wasn’t which left her nerves free to record everything about the presence behind her.
Focus. Concentrate.
Even before she’d known they’d be doing this today, she’d mentally mapped out what she’d decided would be the best route for the sled dogs’ run. At first they traveled along the county road, which meant she had to keep an eye out for vehicles. Then they reached what she already thought of as the race staging area. She understood that firefighters had used this spot as headquarters during a couple of summer fires and was grateful that wasn’t happening now.
Putting this place to use in winter, especially since it would involve dogs engaged in an ancient sport, appealed to her. Hopefully she’d remember to tell Shaw what she was thinking but his closeness was so darned distracting.
They left the open area and entered the forest. A deer trail wove through countless trees, most of it on relatively level ground. Shadows from the evergreens kept the trail in almost constant shadow, and the snow was crusted over in many places. Between the crunching sound caused by the snowmobile’s track and the blur of snow-costumed trees, she lost touch with everything except the present. That had happened sometimes back when she’d worked in Oregon, precious moments of being one with her surroundings and having no past.
The snow here was unspoiled, virgin and pure, nature’s gift. The close-growing pines insulated them from the outside world and made her believe she could start life over. She occasionally wondered if the man seated behind her was having the same thoughts but mostly she existed for herself. There was only this forest, these trees, boulders, and shrubs buried under powder, snow spraying up like waves on either side of the machine, the sky a narrow ribbon overhead. Maybe animals and birds watching.
Despite what she’d told Shaw about needing to go fast enough to stay on top of the snow, she traveled as slow as she dared because she was determined to collect and hold onto today’s memories. It was her and Shaw, a man and a woman alone in the wilderness.
Not entirely alone. A wolf might be out there, maybe studying them, wondering about the invaders, wanting them gone but patient. The creature might even know what had brought the humans here, their need for a deeper understanding of what this land was about, their desire to feel as if they belonged in the backwoods.
“Let’s stop,” Shaw said after long silence.
His request pulled her out of her philosophical thoughts, and she let up on the throttle. When the machine was no longer moving, she killed the motor so nature could truly speak to them. There was more of a breeze than she’d realized. It sang to her, spoke of seduction.
Shaw had removed his helmet and dismounted as soon as she stopped. It took longer for her to trust her legs to support the rest of her body. By the time she got off, he’d tried to move forward but kept sinking into untouched snow. Powder clung to his pants-legs. He seemed to be blending into his surroundings, becoming part of this special place. Laughing, he made his way back to her. The fact that he was her boss barely registered. Today they were equals, and if she let that thinking prevail, she risked telling him everything.
“So much for thinking I could do the frontier explorer thing,” he said. “This snow’s like cold quicksand, not that I’ve ever been in quicksand.”
“We’ll need to make sure the trail’s a lot more solid than this before the dog teams take off.” He was standing maybe twenty feet away with snow all around and evergreens bending low as if trying to embrace him. She knew she looked the same way but only he mattered.
And the pristine silence that was their world. Only theirs.
And maybe a wolf’s.
“How far have we traveled?” He was studying what little he could see of the sky, maybe being hit with the reality of their isolation.
“About five miles. According to people who’ve worked here for a long time, it’s pretty much like this all the way to Grizzly Peak. Nothing too extreme.”
“Is there a deer trail the whole way?” he asked.
Their voices stood in contrast to the muffled thud of a nearby branch dropping its load. There was another sound, a faint sigh as if something was sinking into the snow. The wolf’s paws maybe?
Even though she knew it couldn’t be that, she stepped closer to Shaw thinking to ask if he’d heard the sound. When it wasn’t repeated, she decided to dismiss it. Her imagination never got away from her. In fact, she didn’t have much of one—except for contemplating what might happen if he touched her.
“Not just deer,” she told him. “Hikers use this route in summer. What we’ve been following was created by both humans and animals.”
“Coexistence.”
“Yes.” She longed to reach out to him. “Henry—he used to work for Fish and Wildlife—told me there’s a black bear den near Grizzly Peak. Before he retired this fall, he periodically checked on a hibernating sow and her cubs. Hopefully Echo can determine if it’s still being used. If it is, we need to make sure the dogs don’t get close.”
Hands in his pockets, Shaw scanned their surroundings. “Now that’s something I haven’t considered. What was that like for Henry? To get close enough to…”
Maybe Shaw and she had made a mistake by coming to where humans hadn’t been for months and there might be a protective mother bear. She’d told Daron where they were going, but maybe he wouldn’t get alarmed in time if they didn’t return.
What was she thinking? This wasn’t the day her mother had—
Chapter Nine
“I’ve never experienced the forest like this,” Shaw said softly. “I spend an incredible amount of time focusing on bringing the resort into the present. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” Hopefully talking to him would keep her firmly rooted in reality. The last thing she wanted was to be drawn into the past.
“I’m engaging in wishful thinking,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be something if we spotted the sow and her cubs? Sure they’re probably hibernating, but I’d get a kick out of taking pictures and sending them to the club members. I’d ask if this is the wilderness they’re looking for.”
“I wonder how they’d react?”
“Not sure. I’d love to blow up some shots of where we are and put them on my office walls.”
His cramped office sported
a photograph of Mount Lynx lit by a full moon. She thought he would be content with that but maybe he was after memories of the time they’d spent together.
It can’t mean that much to him. Get a grip.
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to see Grizzly Peak,” she said. “There might be too many clouds around it.”
He pulled a digital camera out of a snowsuit pocket and aimed it at where he’d been trying to walk. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. Do you think we have time to ride around the peak’s base? Maybe that’s the best route for racers to take.”
“Maybe, but it’s a good thirty miles around Grizzly.”
“Wow. That’s longer than I thought it would be. Not such a good idea after all. We’d never make it there in the time we have.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then I’d better be content with this.”
Watching him repeatedly depress the button, she debated using her smartphone so she could add to her collection of Lake Serene in winter pictures, but his camera looked state of the art. She was probably better off asking for copies. She imagined them sitting side by side while they sorted through the shots he’d taken. Maybe they’d agree on which were the best but maybe his shoulder against hers would be too distracting. She’d forget their separate roles, become a woman in the presence of a vibrant, intelligent, complex, and sexy man.
Want.
Like I already am.
“Tell me to stop,” he said after several minutes. “The way the light keeps changing, I’m tempted to do this until it gets dark. That I would regret.”
“Do you want to keep going or head back?” Now that the snowmobile’s heater wasn’t blowing on her, she was starting to feel chilled. In contrast, Shaw seemed oblivious to the cold. She wished those who considered him a workaholic could see him now. The man was living in the moment, immersing himself in his surroundings, taking her with him maybe without him knowing.
“We don’t have to turn around yet,” he said. “Let’s at least get to Grizzly’s base. Once we have a clearer idea of what racers will encounter, we can double back.”
She nodded and climbed on the snowmobile. Even as she anticipated having heat on her legs, she acknowledged she was looking forward to having him close behind her even more. Today they would experience Grizzly Peak in its unspoiled beauty. Be able to share the memory for the rest of their lives, or until life took them in different directions.
“I understand cell reception’s spotty here,” he said as he climbed on behind her. His legs slid along hers, and his chest became one with her back.
She fought the need to lean against him.
“I like the idea of being out of reach. Sorry, Uncle. I didn’t know you’d called. Guess you’ll have to get someone else to jump through today’s hoops.”
“Is that what it’s like?” she asked to have something other than his warmth and her desire to think about. “You’re always at his beck and call?”
“Pretty much although he has so many irons in the fire with his various businesses it isn’t as if he’s focusing on Lake Serene twenty-four seven.”
“Various businesses? I’m impressed.”
“He thrives on it while I have enough to do with this one thing.”
“You handle it well.”
“Most of the time, not that my uncle is always convinced I know what I’m doing. I don’t blame him.”
“You don’t?”
“Yeah. This is my first gig as resort wrangler.”
“Resort wrangler? That’s one way of putting it.”
“That’s how it feels a lot of the time.”
She suspected he hadn’t told many people that. Maybe she was the only one. “You’re here. Keeping it all together. He isn’t. I think, if it was me, I’d resent having to be accountable to him all the time.”
Shaw took a deep breath that pressed his chest against her back and sent her nerves to tingling. “I knew what I was getting into. Besides, I owe the man a great deal.”
*
Now that he’d seen the part of Grizzly Peak most people never did, Shaw wasn’t sure it had been worth the trip. He had no complaints about the scenery and certainly none about his traveling companion, but Grizzly rose so gently from the forest floor it was nearly impossible to tell where the peak began.
On the other hand, and more importantly, he was thankful for every moment Haley and he were together. They hadn’t said much while they were underway, in part because hearing each other over the sounds the snowmobile made was difficult, but he was comfortable in her presence and sensed she felt the same way. Maybe she was content with who she was. If so, he envied her, wanted to learn from her. That wasn’t all he wanted from her.
At the end of their forward progress, they’d stopped long enough for him to take more pictures. Those moments had been the sum and substance of his world, miles of nothing and everything, ageless and new. Rejuvenating. Perfect. Something he’d never believed would happen.
He’d taken several shots of her staring at an evergreen so tall it looked if it had reached the sky. He didn’t think she’d realized what he’d done and wasn’t sure he’d show those shots to her. He wasn’t deliberately hiding what he’d done from her. He just didn’t want to have to explain his motives since he wasn’t certain he could articulate them. Once his life had depended on knowing everything there was to know about a situation. He didn’t know how to handle the opposite, or if he wanted things to change.
At least traveling was easier if not as exciting now that the snowmobile was retracing its steps and gliding over snow the machine had packed down. Haley wasn’t as intent on where they were going. She frequently straightened and looked all around, even over her shoulders. When she did that, their gazes met, and they smiled. Shared without words.
It didn’t matter that her face shield blurred her features. He could still sense her pleasure. Pleasure? Maybe what she was feeling was more intense. Of course it was, he amended. A human being who wasn’t awed by a world made miraculous by winter’s bounty didn’t just not deserve to be here. He or she might as well be dead.
Dead.
Teeth clenched, he forced down the word that might never leave him and revisited the question of what she might be thinking about. Perhaps, unlike him, she wasn’t being distracted by the person she was sharing today with. Yes, she was aware of him. It couldn’t be otherwise when he was right behind her and all but competing for the same space on the seat, but maybe she saw him as an inconvenience, someone she had to put up with, not—what?
He was still trying to come up with an answer he could accept when she let off the gas. The snowmobile slid forward a few feet then stopped.
“What is it?” he asked when she turned off the motor. Quiet drifted around them.
“There’s something I need to look at.”
She didn’t explain, simply got off the machine. Some of the heater’s warmth she’d been enjoying reached him. Because he’d studied her steering technique, he was certain he could take over the chore. In fact, he was itching to handle the machine. However, he hadn’t said anything because she’d earned the right to be closest to the heater. Also she might be get bounced off if she didn’t have the steering handle to hold onto. Of course she could wrap her arms around him if she was behind him—leaving him to try to concentrate on anything except her.
“Shaw? Take a look at this.”
As he blinked to bring her into focus, he realized he’d placed his hands on the seat where she’d been sitting as if trying to gather her warmth. She was standing a few feet ahead of where they’d been heading with her boots on either side of the snowmobile tracks and staring at something on the trail. Because she’d removed her helmet, even with the deepening shadows, he saw her mix of disbelief and disquiet.
Kicking himself for letting her get so far away, he dismounted and joined her. Her lack of an explanation led him to conclude she was waiting for him to figure out what had captured her attention. The pr
oblem was she kept distracting him. As a result, she was looking at him with a puzzled expression before he thought to check to see what had gotten her attention.
“A paw print.” His voice was low. “A big one.” He switched his helmet from his right hand to his left so his dominant one was free. “Are you—”
She grabbed his sleeve with a gloved hand then let go. “There’s no reason for a dog to be out here.”
“No, there isn’t.”
His awareness of his world sharpened until every creak a branch made registered. Haley was tense. Maybe she needed his presence, his protection. It was far from the first time he’d been thrust into this position, but she was special. Different.
A single paw print wasn’t enough, he had to see more. His heart rate remained rapid as he placed his helmet on the snow and reached for the Glock nestled in the small of his back.
He was bringing it around in front when she took a strangled breath. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she backed away from him.
“What’s wrong?” Much as he wanted to touch her in reassurance, he knew not to move.
“A gun. You have a weapon.”
“Yes.”
Although she nodded, he wasn’t sure she was aware of what she was doing. Because of what he used to be and do, he’d dealt with a number of fearful people, even experienced the condition more times than he wanted to acknowledge, but her reaction was almost off the chart. He wasn’t sure she was capable of speaking. As for her being able to process what she was looking at—
“My Glock’s for protection.” He spelled out. “All kinds of people come to the resort, not all of them law-abiding. Given what we’ve found, I’m glad I brought it along.”
“A gun.”
She was struggling to get a handle on her emotions. He gave her credit for her determination to move beyond shock. He just couldn’t fathom why her reaction was so extreme.
“I’ve owned this for years.” Hopefully his quiet tone would help her calm down. “I’ve never fired it anywhere except at gun ranges. In case you’re wondering, I have a concealed weapon permit.”