Page 41 of Dr. Alaska
As Lee opened her mouth, Maverick interrupted, “I’m a paramedic in town.”
“Oh. Hmm.” He nodded, focusing immediately on Maverick.
“Well,” he said, jiggling Kenai’s leash. “Be careful out there. Weather’s coming in, blowing hard from the west. Take your GPS. Visibility can change quickly. Come to think of it, you may not want to go out today.”
“As long as the snowmobiles don’t break, we’ll be fine.” He preceded them to the front door and walked in, not stopping to take off his boots. “Besides, I don’t want to waste the free fuel in the machines. Catch you later, boss.” Dots of snow dropped from his boot lugs and speckled the rugs and floor as he walked to the guest wing. A door slammed.
A muscle in Maverick’s jaw popped. In various situations over the past three weeks, she had never observed him angry. Even in the Code Blue, he stayed calm and loose. This man in front of her stood stiffly, as if a steel pipe ran though his spine.
Lee sat and unlaced her boots, patting Kenai on the head until she got a tail wag. “That was strange.” She pitched her voice low.
He bent and took off his boots, tucking them on the rubber mat beneath the entry bench. Removing his woolen beanie, he finger-combed his hair and glared at the guest rooms.
“Something about those guys hits me the wrong way. I can’t put my finger on it.” He hung his coat on the peg and fished out the satellite phone from a pocket.
Lee stood and hung her coat up then patted his arm. “I agree. I get weird vibes. Nothing scary, but kind of… off.”
His lips thinned, and he snaked an arm around her, tucking her into his side for a beat. “Dad always told me to trust my gut.”
“Forget the gut. I’d trust your mutt.” She pointed to Kenai, whose muted demeanor spoke volumes.
“True. She’s a good judge of character.” He patted Kenai on the head, and she trotted over to her nap location in front of the embers still warming the fireplace grate. Drawing Lee with him, he peered from the great room in the direction of the guest wing. “Sorry that none of this is what we’d planned. Activities not as advertised,” he intoned.
An impulse prompted her to keep her snow pants on as well as the vest over her long-sleeve Capilene thermal top.
“I enjoyed everything about today’s adventure so far. It’s been fun hanging out together.” She kept her beanie on, too, then sat cross-legged and sideways on one of the couches, propping her back against the armrest and facing the fireplace.
Maverick remained standing next to her, posture tense. Vigilant.
A snowmobile—no, snowmachine—rumbled, joined by another. Soon, four engines ran outside the door. Randy and Nick tromped back through the great room withthudsof boots and harsh rasps of waterproof outdoor clothing material.
“Later, folks,” Randy said, barely sparing them a glance as he barreled out of the house.
“You have your SAT phone just in case?” Maverick asked, holding his up.
He patted his pocket. “Right here, boss.”
The door slammed as they exited. Soon, more engines added to the din. Then the noise changed from a fading rumble into a higher-pitched buzz as they exited the property and increased their speeds into the distance.
Maverick stared out the great room windows with a dark scowl. At the point where she was about to get up and give him a hug, he turned. “I should offer you a drink or snacks.”
With a snort, she said, “You seem like the one who needs a drink.”
“No kidding. But not while I’m on the clock.”
“Water is fine for me.” She set the beanie on the coffee table and ran her hands through her tangled hair.
“Water. Got it.” He groaned. “Man, I’m not the best host today.” He went to the kitchen and brought back full glasses and placed each one on a coaster on top of the end tables. “Let me know if you want anything else.” With a tired grunt, he dropped heavily onto the couch next to her.
She studied his tense profile. “So, why is this group so important? And what was all that earlier rooster strutting from that Randy guy?”
Not answering right away, he leaned over and picked up her legs, setting them down on his lap. His palms rested on her knees, the comfortable weight warming her even through the winter clothing layers. “Not sure about Randy’s deal.” He patted her leg. “I’m not a big fan of airing personal laundry.”
“Did you not see me do that exact thing an hour ago? My laundry,bleeeah, there it went. Right at your feet. Totally aired out.”
He did a quarter turn toward her, his thigh muscles bunching beneath her legs as he shifted. “Lee, I’m happy to listen to anything you want to tell me, anytime.”
“Same.”
