Beside her, Trace released a long-suffering breath. “When I go snowshoeing with you, Rose, you can pick the destination, but until then—”
“I want to go to the airfield,” Izzy interrupted to assure the older woman. “We passed through so quickly last night, I didn’t really get to see the place where Trace invests so much of his time and talent.” She turned to him and rested her hand on his upper arm. Thick muscles leapt under her fingers, and muscles in her thighs contracted in response. “I want to see that part of him.”
“You see it in the daylight, you might decide to go home,” Rose grumbled. “Are you going to take her to the lake while she’s here? What about the museum? The reindeer farm? The sculpture garden?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe? What is maybe? You sound like a man with no plan,” Rose scolded.
“My plans are fluid,” Trace countered.
Rose responded, and she and Trace began to debate the merits of various attractions, but Izzy tuned them out because Lilah finished loving on Key and the dog padded over to sit in front of her. By way of greeting, he gave a low, “Woof.”
“Hi.” He was a handsome guy, with his snowy white face and black mask of fur across his ice-blue eyes. Shorter hair like white chenille lined his alert ears, bordered by a narrow perimeter of black velvet. She made a fist and extended her arm. “Fist bump?”
Key lifted his front paw and tapped her fist. Delighted she’d mastered the trick, she said, “Good boy, Key.”
He surged forward, put his front paws on her lap, and licked her face.
“Oh! Good dog.” She leaned away from him to avoid a second swipe. “Um, down?”
Lilah appeared, hooked fingers under his collar, and said, “Down, Key,” in a gently firm tone. The dog instantly obeyed, then raised his head and panted up at Lilah adoringly. “He’s a good boy.” She smiled. “Just enthusiastic, sometimes.”
Key barked his agreement. It rang out over the sound of Rose badgering Trace. “Bring her to the inn for dinner tonight. A nice dinner. Not burgers from a bag.”
“Yes, Rose,” Trace muttered, securing his other snowshoe. Straightening, he purposely checked his watch. “Much as I’d love to sit here and let you plan every nano-second of Izzy’s visit, we’ve got to go.” He stood and turned to her, broad and rough and ready in his gray knit cap, dark glasses, and dark blue insulated vest over a gray hooded sweatshirt and jeans. He slipped her messenger bag over his shoulder and then held out a hand to her. “You ready?” His tight lips silently urged her to say yes.
Behind him, the untouched snow spread out like a fresh, white blanket. She put her hand in his. “As I’ll ever be.”
He tugged her to her feet. “It’ll be fine. One way or another, we’ll get you there.”
One way or another? She looked down the moderate series of hills that sloped to the airfield and harbor. What was another, pray tell? She had an uncomfortable vision of losing her balance and rolling bodily down those hills, like a human snowball. Dear God, what had she gotten herself into? Nothing on the bar exam had prepared her for Captivity.
Trace gave a short whistle. “Go, Key!”
“Awoo!” The dog flew off the sidewalk and landed in a bank of snow that swallowed the big animal to his underbelly. No problem for the dog. Key barked happily as he leapt and bounded through the deep snow. After a few yards, he stopped and turned, as if waiting expectantly for the hoomans to catch up.
“Bye ladies,” Trace said to Rose and Lilah, and then turned to her. “Okay, Izzy, let’s put those L.A. hiking boots to the test.” With one long, graceful stride he stepped off the sidewalk and into the trampled down snow trail the dog had created, then took several long, effortless steps.
Trying to mirror his moves, she led with her right leg and stepped off the sidewalk.
Ugh. Despite the snowshoes, her foot sank deep into cold, heavy snow. The soft, sugary look of it had deceived her into thinking it would be a light, fluffy powder. Balancing on that leg, wobbling more precariously than she’d expected, she considered asking for help.
Come on, Isabelle. It’s just walking. A journey of a thousand steps starts with one.
She slid her left foot around and brought it out in front of her, planted it in the snow, and…tipped over sideways.
“Whoa, there.” A strong arm caught her around the waist before she landed in a snowbank. “Don’t put one foot directly in front of the other. Walk more side to side, like you normally would.” Carefully, he released her, and demonstrated.
Easy for him, obviously, but…she tried to emulate his technique, and managed a few halting steps. Snowshoeing in two feet of the fresh stuff was like the toughest setting on the elliptical, times ten.
“That’s it. You’ve got it. Follow me.”
He headed off at what he probably considered a beginner’s pace, but it challenged her shorter, inexperienced legs to keep up with his longer strides. After a few feet, though, she found a steady groove.
Up ahead, Trace turned to watch her progress. “Nice job.”
“My legs are on fire,” she admitted as she caught up to where he stood.
He extended an arm toward the harbor. “Good news is, it’s all downhill from here.”
“Is downhill easier?”
He smiled. “Easier on the quads. Harder on the knees.”
Great.
They started again, but a few steps down the mild incline, her heel slipped free of the binding and her snowshoe kicked out. She landed on her ass with an, “Oof.”
Key barked, bounced over, and danced around her. Trace backtracked as well. “Problem?”
“The binding popped.” She secured it in place the way she’d watched him do and accepted his outstretched hand. He brought her to her feet in one smooth pull.
“I think now that we’re on the slope it’s just going to keep sliding out. Why don’t we go with plan B?”
She dusted the snow off her jeans and considered him through her sunglasses. “What’s plan B?”
He shifted her messenger bag until he had the strap diagonal across his chest, turned and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Plan B. I’ll piggyback you down.”
Her, clinging to his back, with her legs threaded through his arms, her thighs clamped at his hips, and her arms around his neck? Yeah, Izzy, plan B—where you bump and grind all over the man while he lugs you around like a rucksack. And, sadly, it would be the most action she’d seen in a year. Just thinking about it got her hot and bothered. “Noooo. I’ll be fine. The binding will hold, as long as I’m careful.”