Taming His Montana Heart(40)

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Only with those I care about.”

Her mouth parted, she stared up at him. He couldn’t read her thoughts, but that didn’t stop him from projecting what he was feeling onto her. Hopefully she was taking his comment seriously, turning it around in her mind, maybe sensing it on a deep level.

He threaded his fingers through hers and started to draw her back from the door. “You don’t need to say anything. The words just came out.”

“They were—thank you for saying what you did.”

“You’re welcome.” Can’t you do better than that?

“What do animals do when it’s like this?” she asked as, still holding hands, they returned to the lodge proper. He probably should check to see if someone was taking note of the interaction between them, but he couldn’t keep what he was feeling to himself indefinitely.

“Ask Echo or Kolina,” he belatedly thought to say.

“But I want to know now.”

“Impatient?”

“I can be. When I was little I wanted to be a horse so I could run with the wind. I didn’t care whether I had anything to eat, just that I could gallop for hours.”

“Where did you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

This wasn’t just a child’s desire for speed, he decided. There’d been something she’d wanted or needed to escape.

“Why?”

“Reasons,” she whispered. “They aren’t important now.”

“They are to me.”

She didn’t respond.

*

The convention room was to the right of the restaurant and down several steps, positioned so the south and west windows faced the lake. A door separated the two areas. It was usually kept shut since the convention area heated only when it was in use. However, stored decorations had been removed from the room earlier today and some heat had reached it. Haley guessed the temperature was in the low sixties.

She and Shaw were the only ones here. Tables and chairs had been stacked against the windowless walls, giving the space a stark quality, but the outside lights were on, affording them an unobstructed view of the storm. Snow, driven by erratic gusts, swirled about so the flakes looked as if they were drunk. Someone had changed the regular high intensity lights to red ones to celebrate Christmas. As a result, the flakes appeared as if they were on fire. Because she was unable to see as far as the lake, she felt a little hemmed in. Despite that she was glad she was here with Shaw.

Glad even though he might repeat his earlier question about why she’d wanted to take off when she was a child.

“I don’t know if anyone saw us come in,” he said. “If they did I’m thinking they’ll leave us alone.”

Alone with this man who cared how she was getting home and had held her hand in public.

“This way”—he pointed at the west facing windows—“we can watch the storm without risking frostbite.”

Thanks to her sweater and thick socks, she was warm. Until or unless she got cold, she would spend the entire evening with Shaw Chamberlin. Take chances and explore her feelings where he was concerned. Maybe touch his fingers—and more.

“Some of my neighbors used their snowmobiles to get here,” she said. “I’ll hitch a ride with one of them.”

He nodded, the gesture slow as if he was having trouble processing what she’d told him. “All right,” he said at length. “What a storm. I should have anticipated what Lake Serene could be like in winter, but I didn’t give it enough thought.”

“Because you had so much on your plate.”

“Because I didn’t have much choice about coming here.”

He’d been walking around. Now he positioned himself next to her and looked out at the red-cast night. The storm was a monster she suspected would soon wear itself out, but for as long as it lasted, it was in control. She couldn’t penetrate it any more than she could reach beyond Shaw’s personal shell—something she well understood.

“Had to?” she echoed.

“I needed a job. A reason.”

Much as she longed to ask him to explain, she remained where she was.

“So did I.” She didn’t want to talk about herself but maybe he would if she led the way—if she could. “My brother’s in-laws were selling their snowmobile business, and I didn’t want to work for the new owners. This job was what I needed.”

His hands had been in his jeans’ back pockets. Now he pulled them out and placed them flat against the window. Maybe he was leaving his fingerprints there. Years from now proof would remain that he’d once been here.

“You’re doing it again,” he said without looking at her.

“Doing what?”

He glanced at her then went back to studying the storm. “Hinting you are or were running from something.”

So are you. “I’m not on the lam if that’s what you’re thinking.” A few feet away nature flexed its mighty muscles. Snow was coating trees and burying trails. If this kept up, by morning customers wouldn’t be able to reach her operation. Even if they made it through and rented a snowmobile, the landmarks wouldn’t be there. The terrain would be virgin, the snow untouched. She longed to be the first person to glide over it and to not be alone during the journey.