by Donna Alward
Come to think of it, he always had. Ever since that first night when he took her home from the wedding and spent an hour visiting with his parents rather than taking her up to his room. There’d been this intuitive need to look after her.
She ran her tongue over her lower lip and he nearly reconsidered. Nearly pushed his case. He would probably win.
Instead he backed up another step. “On your time. When you’re ready. You know where I am,” he said.
She nodded.
And he got out of there before he changed his mind.
Chapter Seven
Amy stood in the middle of the empty foyer, feeling like a tornado had blown through and had now left her with the aftermath.
Since exactly 4:07 p.m. yesterday afternoon, it had been chaos. Fun chaos, but hectic just the same. She had been on hand to greet guests and show them to their rooms—rooms she’d spent two hours in the afternoon making sure were perfectly spotless. Then it had been back to the kitchen to help the chef—a lovely man in his forties named Chuck—with the refreshment prep. Together she and Jack opened bottles of wine, beer and sparkling water for the new guests and she served Chuck’s delicious refreshments in the living room before a blazing fire and lit-up Christmas tree. Bacon-wrapped jalapeños, “cowboy caviar” and chips, grilled shrimp and potato skins had rounded out the prefeast, only to be followed a few hours later by a gorgeous beef tenderloin, roasted carrots and garlic mashed potatoes.
It had been late when she’d finally put the kitchen to rights and made sure everyone had what they needed before turning in.
This morning she’d been up at six and was showered and ready when Chuck arrived at seven for the breakfast meal. He put Amy to work as a sous-chef, scramble-frying sausage while he made drop biscuits. Then he had her make a fruit salad with honey and mint while he made a milk gravy with the sausage and drippings. Coffee and juice rounded out the meal and at eight everyone was seated in the dining room, eating happily and talking about their plans for the day. First up, a two-hour horseback ride with Miguel, Raffy and Jack along as guides.
Being more of an indoor girl, Amy should have been relieved that she didn’t have to go along. But hearing Jack talk about the ranch, and how the ride would give them a tour of the cattle operation, she wished she could.
Never mind that she’d hardly been able to say two words to Jack since their arrival. As the group prepared for their ride, Amy finally got time to sit at the breakfast nook with a plate of biscuits and gravy before starting the meal cleanup. She’d barely finished eating when Chuck asked for her help again with preparing lunch. She arranged a platter of homemade chocolate chip cookies while Chuck built sandwiches from the leftover tenderloin and sourdough bread. Another tray of vegetables and dip was put in the fridge—all Amy had to do at noon was serve it.
Now, finally, it was ten-thirty, Chuck was gone until it was time for dinner, the dishes were washed and put away, the dishwasher running, and the house was utterly silent.
There was still housekeeping to do. And she should spend an hour or so in the office....
By the time everyone arrived back at twelve, Amy was feeling run off her feet. Still, she pasted on a smile, took a deep breath and put out the platters of food for a casual lunch.
Jack found her in the kitchen, half of her sandwich abandoned on the counter as she unloaded the clean dishes from the dishwasher. “Doing okay?”
She smiled and kept stacking plates. “Sure.”
“I thought you’d eat with us.”
She bit back a sharp answer—it wouldn’t exactly be helpful and she was wondering if Rosa had been this rushed or if she’d handled things with more ease. “Oh, just trying to stay ahead of the work,” she replied.
“It’s a lot, but it’s only for a few days. Then things settle down again before the next lot arrive.”
“I’m doing okay. Really.”
“Good. Because I’m stealing you away for the afternoon.”
She sighed. “Jack, I really do have enough to keep me busy here.”
“I’ll help you load up the dishwasher. Put the leftovers in the fridge and put on a parka. You’re not going to want to miss it.”
She knew the schedule. And she was tempted. Today the group was doing something that Amy had never done before. They were going dogsledding.
“Jack...”
He came over and grabbed the cutlery tray, went to the drawer and started unloading it. “You’re here to have some fun, too. Chuck will be here to get dinner. Tonight will be an earlier night, because everyone will be exhausted from their day outdoors. Everything’s gone great so far. Come on, Amy. It’ll be fun. It’s like flying on snow.”
His eyes sparkled at her. She was helpless when he looked at her like that, all expectant and enthusiastic. “You’re sure there’s room for me?”
“You can drive the SUV and follow me there. See? Still working.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.... Being a chauffeur wasn’t exactly hard work. But she did want to go. Wanted to experience new things.
“What about the office work?”
He shut the drawer and faced her. “It’ll keep. Unless there’s something urgent, admin can wait until our guests are gone. Rosa usually catches up when the house is quiet. Now, do you have any more excuses?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Be ready in half an hour.”
She hurriedly tidied the kitchen and grabbed her coat, hat and mitts. The rest of the group was getting dressed, and she noticed they were joking and laughing more than last night, which had felt a little like a cocktail party, slightly more poised and formal. As a group they were becoming more relaxed with each other.
She followed Jack out the lane and onto the main road, heading away from the ranch and toward the base of the mountains. It was only ten, maybe fifteen minutes when he turned off and led her up a gradual incline, past a sign that announced Dogsled Adventure Trails. The trees broke into a clearing, and Jack parked the van to one side while Amy pulled in beside him.
The sound was unreal.
Barks and yips filled the air as a group of guides hooked dogs to harnesses. Amy watched as a man with a ginormous beard invited the guests to meet another group of dogs, all bouncing feet and wagging tails. It smelled...very doggy. One whole side of the yard was kennels. A teenager worked to one side, scooping out a few empty areas. Doggy it might be, but Amy could see that amidst the chaos was a precise routine.
Jack came over and took her arm. “Come on. You should meet a few of these guys. They’re dying to run today.” He led her to a small group, where a pair of Alaskan huskies were getting attention. “This is Barnum and Bailey. Say hello.”
Delighted, she kneeled down and offered her hand for a sniff. Immediately they rubbed up against her mitt, bundles of pent-up energy ready to hit the trails. “John says these two will be on the final run of the day,” Jack explained. “They don’t get to go this time.”
“I bet they feel bad about that. They look like they’d go like the wind.”
“You have no idea.” He nodded at the sleds lined up for passengers. “Generally each sled will take three adults, but because there are twelve of us, we’re pairing up.”
Amy nodded. “There are three sleds.”
“We’re going in two separate groups. You and I will go with the first group, while the others stay back and learn about the dogs and the operation. Then we’ll do the same when the second group is out.”
“Just you and me?” Her heart gave a little thump.
“Yes, just us. I don’t always go along, but I thought today I’d go with you. See what you think. Spend some time hanging out together.”
It was hard to come up with a reasonable argument. Plus he’d stayed true to his word and hadn’t pressured her in any way. He’
d left it all firmly in her court, just as he’d said. She was starting to realize that Jack kept his promises.
“Let’s go, then,” she said, a little bit of excitement fizzing through her veins. After the hard work of the past twenty-four hours, it felt like an extravagant treat. Plus it was something she’d never done before. And wasn’t this trip all about trying new things?
Minutes later she found herself tucked in the sled, cushioned between Jack’s legs and both of them covered with the sled bag. The dogs vibrated with restrained energy; the guide stepped on the runners behind them. Amy could feel the weight of him there, felt the moment he put his hands firmly on the driver’s bow.
“You ready?” Jack’s voice was warm in her ear and she shivered as she nodded.
There was a shout and a feeling of release and then they were moving.
It wasn’t as smooth as Amy expected. As the dogs started off, the sled bumped and banged over lumps in the trail, and her stomach did a flip when they built up momentum and went over a dip. She laughed out loud, feeling the sting of snow on her cheeks as they left the yard behind and slid deep into the surrounding forest.
“Okay?” Jack’s voice rumbled at her ear again.
“More than okay,” she replied. “You were right. It feels like we’re flying!”
He laughed. She felt the rise and fall of his chest against her back, the warmth of his body cushioning hers, the long length of his legs riding along her thighs. Now that they were underway, the dogs had stopped barking and simply raced them over the snow, the runners making a squeaky slide against the white trail. The crisp air was tangy with the evergreen scent and Amy leaned her head back against his shoulder.
His hands, even though they were encased in thick mittens, slid around her ribs and held her close. In that moment there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
They were on a dogsled, wrapped up in heavy winter clothing, and still his touch burned through to her skin. She shifted slightly, her bottom wiggling in the V of his legs, and she heard a quick intake of breath. His hands moved, skimming over her hips, firm and warm.
And a driver was behind them, who could, in all likelihood, see inside the sled bag, at least partially.
She diverted herself from the feel of Jack’s body—or attempted to—by asking questions about the dogs. Where they came from, how many to a team, how many times they ran a day. The team slowed to a trot as the driver chatted, and they skimmed more slowly over the path, a break in the woods that was maybe only a foot wider than the sled on either side.
After about forty-five minutes, the path widened and opened up into a meadow that overlooked a lake, the frozen surface cold and rigid.
“Look,” he said, “about two o’clock.”
Together Jack and Amy looked to their right. A bull moose stood proudly in the middle of the meadow, a smaller cow nearby. They were totally unconcerned with the dogs, and the dogs weren’t the least bit interested in them, either. Instead they raced over the snow, the dogs picking up the pace on the wide-open stretch. When they got close to the moose, the animals lumbered off in their awkward yet somehow graceful gait.
“Awesome, right?”
“Very,” she answered. Despite the heavy clothing and protection of the sled covering, the tips of her ears and nose were growing cold. She burrowed her face into the fleecy inside of her coat and Jack’s arms tightened around her.
When they finally entered the yard, the next teams of dogs were being hooked to the harnesses and the guests were hovering around, anxious to get going. They came to a halt and the sled bag was unzipped, releasing Amy and Jack from their cozy cocoon. His hand gave a slight squeeze to her thigh before she slid out into the brisk winter air.
They were separated in the commotion of the returning teams and the exclamations of the guests who had already completed their runs. When Amy looked over again, Jack was laughing and talking to the head of the group, the company’s CEO. The man looked as unbusinesslike as she could imagine—his hat askew, puffy jacket, cheeks ruddy from the cold. He looked just like the rest of the people there, and she supposed that was the point.
A team.
She went to the office, housed out of the cabin on-site, and paid the invoice with a check that Jack had signed. When she returned to the yard, Jack was waiting for her.
“I was wondering...can you find your way back to the ranch?”
“I think so.”
He put his hand under her elbow as they walked slowly away from the cabin and toward where the vehicles were parked. “There are a few guests who would like to return rather than hang around for another hour. You can check on Chuck and I thought maybe they’d like to relax in the hot tub before dinner. It’s been a long day, and they might be a little saddle sore from this morning.”
The idea of the hot tub was tempting, though Amy would prefer it be à deux rather than a group activity.
He took a business card out of his pocket. “Have you got a pen?”
She’d left her pack in the SUV, so together they walked to the vehicle and she grabbed a pen from the side pouch. Quickly he scribbled a rough map on the reverse side of the card.
“If you’re unsure, this will help. I’ll see you back there, okay?”
“We probably won’t be more than three quarters of an hour ahead of you,” she said. “If people are ready to go, I’ll drive them.”
The four others who’d gone on the first run were ready, so within a few moments they were all loaded in the SUV and Amy was making her way down the lane at a crawl. She checked the rearview mirror and saw Jack give a wave, and she waved back. The conversation in the car was light—Jack was right, people were getting tired. A hot meal, a soak in a hot tub—it would be just the thing after the day in the outdoors.
She headed out the drive, turned onto the main road and tried to remember how long they’d driven on the way there before turning. She guessed about ten minutes....
Fifteen minutes later she admitted to herself that she was lost. Nothing looked familiar, not a road sign or any landscape.
And the CEO was sitting in the backseat.
She turned around in a driveway and retraced her steps, but after a few minutes she was no closer to knowing where she was than before. The crude map on the business card was no help. As each second ticked past, she felt more and more like an incompetent idiot.
“Miss Wilson?” The woman beside her looked worried. “Shouldn’t we be back by now?”
Amy tried a nervous laugh. “Well, funny you should mention that. It appears I’m a bit...directionally challenged.”
“We’re lost?”
“Well...I wouldn’t quite go that far. I think I just missed the turnoff to the ranch.” At this rate, Jack would be back before she would.
And she’d look like a dimwit. Even more than she already did.
She pasted on what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “I remember passing this garage before we got to the dogsled place, so I’m going to turn around and head back again. Everyone keep their eyes peeled, okay? For a familiar turnoff.” She slowed for the turn. “Sorry, everyone. I just arrived a few days ago. I’m not as familiar with the area as I hoped.”
She was back on the main road again, heading toward town. The chatter in the car, the easy conversation about the dogsled experience disappeared, leaving an uncomfortable silence. More signs appeared along the roadside as they got closer and closer to town and farther away from the ranch. Amy blinked several times as tears of humiliation blurred her vision. She should have paid better attention during the drive out, rather than focusing simply on Jack’s taillights.
“Anyone want a coffee?” A familiar coffee shop appeared on the right. “I’ll give Jack a call while we’re stopped. My treat, of course.”
She parked and everyone got out. When they all had hot cups o
f coffee in hand, she went outside to the parking lot and took out her cell.
This was exactly the kind of thing she’d been afraid of. Screwing up. Especially with Jack depending on her. The one person who didn’t seem to buy in to what everyone else thought. He just hadn’t known her long enough, had he?
Dread settling in the pit of her stomach, she dialed the phone.
“Amy?”
He didn’t even bother with hello. She closed her eyes.
“Hey.”
“Where on earth are you? Are you okay? We just got back to the house. You should have been here ages ago!”
“I got lost.”
There was a beat of silence, but it was enough for Amy to feel the disappointment.
“Do you know where you are?”
“I’m in town. I stopped at a coffee shop and bought everyone a coffee.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry, Jack. I thought I remembered the way back. I turned around a couple of times and tried again, but nothing seemed familiar.”
Jack sighed and she felt even worse.
“Did you try using the GPS?”
Oh. My. God.
Could she feel any more stupid? “There’s a GPS in the car.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a confirmation of her own ineptitude.
“The touch screen in the middle of the dashboard. If I’d thought you’d have trouble, I’d have suggested it instead of writing on that card.”
“I’m not good with directions, apparently.” The words sounded bitter.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not familiar with the area at all. I should have suggested using it in the first place. I’m so used to driving here, it never crossed my mind.”