Her cheeks colored and she turned away. “Come on. We’re on for one thirty.”
“Are we cutting it close?” He fell into step beside her as she started toward the front door.
“We’ve got time. They’ll walk us through stuff for a half hour first, then an hour on the trail, and then snacks and stuff after. I wasn’t sure you’d want a longer ride today.”
“No, that sounds perfect.” They’d be done by three thirty, back in Banff at four and have the rest of the day to...well, do something. If they wanted.
She turned into a lane marked with a sign for Three Sisters Dogsledding. It ran for nearly a kilometer, bordered by fragrant evergreens until it ended near a large house at one side and then a long building that housed the equipment and kennel facilities. They could hear the barking before they even got out of the car, and Adele flashed him a happy grin. “This is cool,” he remarked, grinning back. “I’ve never done this before.”
“I have. Once,” she revealed, turning off the car. “We did a wedding nearby last year. It was probably the most unusual ceremony I’ve ever planned. All the guests were taken by sled to the location, and the bride and groom came last. It made for fantastic photos. Cold, but fantastic.”
She got out of the car and reached in the back for the rest of her winter gear. “I booked us with a driver,” she called as he got out of the car. “I’ve driven before, briefly, but I thought this would be more relaxing.”
He looked over toward a nearby sled. It had a cover that zipped up, so the passengers would be cozy inside. The idea of her being snuggled up so closely to him made his blood heat.
“Adele! So good to see you again!” A man, probably in his midthirties, strode toward them, dressed in a heavy jacket and a hat with a huge tassel on the end.
“Hey, Jerry. You too.” She reached out and shook his hand. “This is my friend Dan. He’s never done this before, so it’s gonna be fun. Dan, Jerry was my go-to for everything to do with the wedding last year.”
Dan took a moment or two to size up this Jerry guy. He wasn’t exactly jealous, but he was aware of the casual familiarity between Jerry and Adele, as well as the smile on the other man’s face. He was big, and not a bad-looking sort. Not that Dan had any claim to Adele at all. But still.
“Welcome, Dan. It’s a beautiful day, so you’re in for a treat. It’s a ten-kilometer ride today, over the pond and with beautiful views. Did you bring a camera?”
“I did, though it’s just a point and shoot.”
“Hard to take a bad one,” Jerry said easily. “Come on in, and we’ll do the orientation.”
Over the next thirty minutes, he learned about the dogs and the basics of sledding, but he only listened with half an ear. The other half was tuned to Delly, the way she smiled and how she laughed when she got licked in the face by one of the dogs. She looked over at him, one hand on the heavy gray fur, and he knew he was in dangerous territory. It would be so easy to fall for her again. And yet a mistake, too. It wasn’t even so much that she couldn’t have children. It was more that she hadn’t trusted him with it. That she’d lied. And even knowing the reason—even understanding—didn’t change the feeling that he couldn’t trust her, either.
And that was no way to build a relationship. Or rebuild, as the case may be. Even if he wanted to.
“You’re looking awfully serious,” Delly said, coming to his side. “You okay?”
“Just thinking,” he answered, chasing away the thoughts. “Do you think we’ll be warm enough?”
She nodded. “We’ll be snug as a bug. You’ll see.”
Jerry waved them out to where their sled awaited. Adele got in and Dan sat in behind her, his legs on either side of hers, like they’d be if they were on a toboggan. Jerry handed them a wool blanket, and then zipped the sled bag around them, covering their legs and middles, and protecting them from wind. The dogs were harnessed, barking and prancing excitedly, ready to go. As Jerry stood on the runners at the back and gripped the handle, Delly turned her head to look at Dan. Her eyes sparkled in the winter sun, her smile radiant. “You ready?”
“So ready,” he said, and felt himself slide a little further into...well, surely not love, but something deeper than a simple reconciliation. Not closure, but...a new beginning somehow. Despite all his best warnings, something was happening here that he was helpless to stop.
They took off, the sled skimming over the snow, moving faster and faster as they left the yard behind and moved out onto the open trail. Delly laughed, the feeling rumbling against his chest, even through their heavy coats. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her, not caring about holding himself back from her right
now. He liked being with her. He liked her laugh and her smile and the sound of her voice, the way she felt in his arms and the vanilla scent of her hair from beneath her headband.
Different than he remembered, but somehow the same, too.
The scenery was stunning as they skimmed over the snow, past trees and bushes and out into an open space, a frozen pond that opened up to the most stunning vista he’d ever seen. Jagged gray peaks topped with pristine snow, naked above the tree line, and in sharp relief to the piercing blue sky. The wind buffeted his cheeks, stinging a bit, but he didn’t mind. It was a weird and neat feeling, being so low to the ground, rushing over the snow with a near-weightless sensation.
Delly’s arms came over top of his, holding him close against her, and for a moment he dropped his forehead to the back of her head. This was a near-perfect moment, and he let it soak in.
After nearly half an hour, they stopped and got out to stretch their legs and give the dogs a quick break. As Delly stopped and scratched the belly of one, he knelt beside her and rubbed the dog’s head. The dog, loving the attention, wriggled around on his back with pleasure.
“You like dogs,” he observed.
“Of course I do. But I’m gone so much for work that I can’t see having one. Unless I hired a dog walker. Some days, though, I leave the house at seven and don’t get home until midnight. Particularly wedding days. It’s just not fair.”
“So you have Mr. Num-Nums.”