Taming His Montana Heart(27)

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 problem 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.”

Again her head bobbed up and down. She wrapped her arms around her waist as if trying to comfort herself. “Why?”

“I just explained.”

“I hate them.”

He’d already come to that conclusion, but she wasn’t just against private ownership of weapons. Her fear came from a place far deeper than ideology. Maybe personal experience?

“I respect your opinion,” he said, “but even you’ll have to admit a weapon could spell the difference between danger and safety right now.”

Eyes narrow and mouth in a firm line, she angled herself so she was no longer looking at him. He gripped the familiar weight in both hands and turned in a slow circle. The unrelenting white that had seduced him earlier had changed into something he couldn’t articulate. It was like looking at ocean waves and trying to distinguish one from all the others. Everything was the same. Nothing stood out. He wasn’t sure what he’d already studied and what he still needed to examine. Unfortunately, he couldn’t count on her to do her part because she was still trying to deal with the reality of a gun in the middle of the wilderness.