Page 20 of Holly and Ivar
Maybe he’d lost his mind.
But deep down, he knew why he’d done it.He recognized that brittle energy in her voice, that need to control every variable.He’d lived that way until a few hard lessons stripped it out of him.
The truck crunched up his long, tree-lined drive.When the A-frame came into view, Holly leaned forward.
“Cute place.”
“Thanks,” he said, parking beside the porch.“It’s my house.”
Her eyebrows rose.“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She gave the place a once-over, lips curving like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or groan.“Yeah.I totally see it.”
They stepped out, and Al bounded ahead, circling the porch in wide, ecstatic loops.
“Stay inside where it’s warm,” Ivar said, opening the front door.“I need to grab a few things.”
She nodded, glancing around.He watched her take in the fireplace, the books, the scuffed floorboards as if she were cataloguing details for a report.He wondered if she noticed that nothing in his cabin matched.The mugs were chipped, the rugs faded, the lamp held together with a bit of wire.Of course she did.
She touched the edge of his kitchen table, tracing a groove in the wood.“It’s peaceful here.”Soft, as though afraid to disturb the stillness.
He wanted to tell her that peace wasn’t something you found.It was something you let in.But she was standing by the window, looking out at the pond dusted in snow, and he wondered, shutting the door and heading for the garage, if she was starting to understand.
***
He returned in ten minutes, his arms full of gear."Come on."
She turned, startled, from her reverie."We're going somewhere else?"
"Not far.To the pond."
As they stepped into the cold again, he handed her Liv's snowsuit."Are we ice fishing?Because if this involves bait or sitting in the cold, I'm out."
He grinned."We're not fishing."
"Then what are we doing?"
"Dog sledding.Al's been inside all day, and he needs to stretch his legs."
"Dog sledding?"She sounded incredulous."With me?"
"Yup.Around the pond.It's Al's favorite thing."
"For some."She muttered."And what kind of name is Al, anyway?"
"First name Al, last name Pine."
She blinked, then laughed."Al Pine.That's terrible."
"That's what the shelter named him.We just call him Al."
"A humane society with a sense of humor."
"Exactly."He raised his voice."Al!Dog sled!"
A crash echoed through the trees, and the husky appeared with fur dusted white and eyes gleaming with anticipation.
