Taming His Montana Heart(24)
“That sounds like you.”
“It is.” He didn’t add that his decisiveness had had a lot to do with Uncle Robert’s determination to put him in charge of the resort.
“How’s his health now?”
“Pretty good for a man his age.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
She was giving him her full attention. He could practically touch her concern for his uncle. And because she cared, she wouldn’t let him get away with shrugging through a brief explanation of what had brought him here. He had to be careful around her, cautious, not let anything slip even though he was tempted to be forthcoming.
When he wanted to make love to her.
“I’ve talked to my aunt and cousins about this,” he somehow continued. “We all agree that nearly dying made him see life as precious. He gets right to whatever it is he has to deal with so he can move onto the next thing.”
He might be wrong but her eyes seemed to have darkened while he was talking. Also there was a vulnerability in her expression that hadn’t been there before. He’d said something to make her react as she had, but he didn’t know what it was.
A lot was off-kilter when it came to how he felt about her. Not being in control unnerved him. Took him back.
Making love to her would be a huge mistake—afterward.
“One thing I’m sure of”—he assured her—“Uncle Robert won’t settle for anything except the best machines he can get his hands on in the shortest amount of time.”
“Don’t you mean what his person can get his or her hands on?” Her smile looked forced.
“I stand corrected.” The longer they stood there the harder it was getting to concentrate on what had brought him here. More to the point, they would soon be the only humans in the part of the forest they were going into.
Go slow. Think before you speak. Stay in control.
“Ah,” she said, “I suggest we get moving. Otherwise we run the risk of being out after dark.”
Dark. Night alone with her. Talking about things that didn’t matter—and those that did.
Before he could take the thought further, the wall he’d forcefully built around himself returned. They’d discuss the care and feeding of sled dogs, options for the retired snowmobiles, maybe debate where to set up the resort’s Christmas tree and who he should get to play Santa. He might ask about her past Christmases but maybe not. After all, if he questioned her about her prior life, she’d conclude she had the right to do the same.
*
Technically, the Yamaha Daron had been checking out was built for a single rider, but it was one of the largest in the so-called fleet. Also, because the others were being used, they had no choice but to double up.
“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.