Taming His Montana Heart(12)

That made sense.

His shoulders burned and he was sweating by the time he’d reached the roof, but the physical labor felt good. Haley’s motions were slower than the men’s and her shovel loads held less, but she didn’t pause let alone stop. Out of the corner of his eye he studied her smooth, practiced movements. The young woman knew how to work. More than that, he suspected she enjoyed it as much as he did. Too bad conditions didn’t allow for conversation since he didn’t know as much about her as he wanted to. Of course if he asked personal questions, she’d feel she had a right to do the same.

Rey outlined what the structure needed long-term. Whoever had initially used composition shingles had made a serious mistake by not selecting metal. Not only would metal allow most of the snow to slide off, it was fireproof.

“You don’t need to convince me,” Shaw said. “According to Echo, the forest service requires all new roofs to be metal.”

“That’s essential to Echo,” Rey said. “You know she nearly lost her life fighting a forest fire. She still occasionally has nightmares about trying to escape it.”

Shaw knew all about nightmares. They no longer haunted his every night, but he suspected he’d never be completely free of them. He didn’t deserve to be.

“She hasn’t said much to me about her accident,” Haley said. “I don’t want to press.”

Rey sighed. “It was a major turning point in her life.”

Shaw muttered something designed to indicate he understood. More than once he’d had been tempted to tell Rey that he was no longer a cop and why, but he hadn’t.

“I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to talk to your uncle about the grooming equipment,” Haley said.

Was she deliberately changing the subject? She’d been willing to bring up Echo’s accident but like him, she hadn’t added to Rey’s comment about life’s turning points.

As he shifted position, he took note of his surroundings. Snow had dulled the area’s earth colors and served as sound deadening. Even with the heavy, dark clouds, the world was peaceful, restful even. Maybe what he needed was to get above ground level more often. That way he’d stop replaying the past and live in the moment. Bury red under white.

Wondering where his philosophical mood had come from, he told Haley he’d left a message for Uncle Robert. “He usually gets right back to me. Hopefully I’ll hear from him by the end of the day.”

“What do you think he’ll say?”

He drove the end of the shovel into packed snow, pulled the handle toward him and lifted. The space between his shoulder blades burned, but it didn’t matter. He was half tempted to let it slip that he’d gone to college on a partial football scholarship so knew about aches and pains.

Tempted but too cautious to bring up the past.

“I’m not going to give him a chance to say no,” he said. “There’s something I probably should have mentioned to you before this, to you too Rey.”

Rey stopped shoveling and rolled his head about. Only Haley kept on working. He couldn’t stop studying her, admiring her stamina, wondering if she was trying to wear herself out so she could sleep. Everyone had layers. He hadn’t begun to peel away hers and had no right trying to get past her surface, but he wanted to.





Chapter Four




Shaw’s eyes seemed darker than they’d been yesterday. Haley supposed she could credit the clouds and barely there sun for the change, but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d said something that was making him think deep thoughts.

She wasn’t what she could call comfortable in his presence, more like acutely aware of him. She also noticed the crisp, cold air and pure scent of snow, the occasional glimpse of birds overhead. Being this high above the ground changed her perception of her world. It was as if she’d disconnected herself from the ground and as a result had increased her awareness of the clouds’ countless shades. This day and her place in it was special. Her muscles felt loose and easy, content to keep repeating the same movements.

Tiring her out.

Making her feel close to the two men who were sharing the experience with her, mostly Shaw.

Shaw who she didn’t understand and had no right to try to.

“What were you going to mention?” Rey’s question reminded her that today wasn’t just about studying Shaw’s eyes and the wilderness.

Shaw inclined his head in her direction, acknowledging her without a word. “I’ve been approached by the Northwest Sled Dog Racing Organization. Apparently a number of years ago they held their competitions at Lake Serene. They decided to go elsewhere when they couldn’t be assured of a decent trail to run on. Also accommodations became an issue.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Rey said. “The resort was falling apart before your uncle bought it.”

“No arguments there. However, the other sites they’ve tried haven’t been much better and with new management here they want to discuss the possibilities of returning.”

“What did you say?” she asked.

“That I’m willing to listen.”

“There are a lot of factors to consider, aren’t there? In addition to assuring a satisfactory experience for fans and participants, they’re looking for someplace to keep the dogs and whatever they haul them in. Maybe they expect the resort to contribute to promotional efforts plus assume responsibility for prepping the route the teams will run on.”