Alaska Heart (12 page)

Turning around in a wide circle, I snapped a panoramic image, frame by glorious frame. Hopefully, when the pictures were developed, I could orchestrate a 360º view of the perfect beauty around me. The Alaska Range spiking from the ground and doused in white. Pine trees with heavy, sagging boughs, standing guard. Wildlife surviving the winter in Denali. No other place I’d visited or done stories on could compare to this.

“There’s one more thing you’ve got to see.” Dale’s voice sounded far away at first so lost was I in my enjoyment of the park. “C’mon.”

Dale scaled a small hill, Gypsy and Zynk on his heels. I hiked up behind them. Dale reached down and locked his grip on my forearm. With a gentle tug, he maneuvered me to stand in front of him, facing him. The look on his face was akin to a child ready to share a secret.

“When you turn around, look first. You can grab your camera after. Okay?”

“Okay.” Anticipation buzzed through me. Or was it being so close to Dale?

With a little nudge, Dale spun me around, and a gasp caught in my throat. His hands closed over my shoulders, anchoring me, keeping me earthbound amongst what had to be heaven.

Rising above all the other mountains in the distance, Mount McKinley reached into the cerulean Alaskan sky like a white giant. Its peaks were arrowheads of rock encrusted in snow that glistened magically in the pink of the late afternoon sunlight. How incredibly small I was, like a speck of dust in comparison to the majesty of McKinley.

“Oh, Dale…” My voice was nothing more than a rasp. I let my pack drop to my feet and leaned back against him. He folded his arms around me and squeezed. When I thought the moment couldn’t get any closer to perfection, he loosened my scarf enough to nuzzle his cold nose against my neck. Though I initially shivered at the contact, he quickly warmed the spot with the heat of his lips.

Giving McKinley another look, I turned around to face Dale. He trailed his lips over my cheek and finally to my mouth where he did things that made my head spin. Our lips met as we tasted, savored each other. Great Goddess, I had shut myself off for too long. Or maybe I’d been waiting. Waiting for him.

Whatever the case, Dale unlocked emotions in me. Trust, wanting, love. I wasn’t sure what to do with any of these, but my heart thudded wildly in my chest over the prospect. My skin longed to have Dale’s fingers spread across every inch of it. My lips wanted him to never stop kissing me.

“Take your pictures.” The words were a whisper. “And let’s go.” His lips brushed mine one final time before he descended the small hill. Zynk leaped after him, but Gypsy sidled up next to me.

“You must love living with him.” I reached down to scratch her cheek. Gypsy let out a soft bark as she put her paw against my leg. “Yes, you’re right.” I looked back at Dale. “I need to hurry with these pictures.”

The hike back to the truck was as wonderful as the hike into the park. Excitement over what I had seen in Denali and now anticipation about the night ahead had my blood pumping at full speed through my veins. As we unloaded our packs and shuffled the dogs into the back seat, a loud snapping of twigs caused me to walk around to Dale’s side of the truck.

“Moose,” he said. “Two of them, male and female.”

“Where?”

“At about eleven o’clock.” Dale angled his arm out in that direction.

I followed his arm until movement caught my eye. The bull was enormous. Muscles bulged beneath his thick pelt. The cow was equally impressive with her smooth auburn coat and wide eyes.

“Fantastic,” I whispered. Raising my camera still hung about my neck, I captured the last animal on my list. “That makes all five of the Big Five. Plus, I got some others, too. My boss is going to flip.”

“That promotion is in the bag.” Dale held his hand out for a high five. I obliged, and as soon as my glove touched his, he grabbed my hand. “We’re probably past the high-five stage.”

“Definitely.” I leaned into him again, desperately wishing to be rid of our heavy jackets and gloves.

“Come home with me.” Dale kissed my forehead and then focused his eyes on mine.

I nodded, and Dale’s lips twitched up in victory. He released my hand, and I sauntered to the passenger side of the truck. Tried my best to give Dale a good show.

“Let’s see if we can avoid a speeding ticket.” Dale started the truck and pulled onto the park road.

Laughing, I rested my head on the back of the seat. Gypsy pressed her wet nose to my ear and sniffed loudly.

“Gypsy. Jeez, I’m sorry she keeps doing that. She’s usually better behaved.” Dale pushed her back with his hand.

“No, no. It’s all right. We’re becoming friends, she and I.”

“I can’t be responsible when she wants to climb into your lap.”

I glanced at the size of Gypsy. “She’s not a lap dog.”

“That’s what you think.” Dale let out a chuckle. “She may be big, and when we’re training or racing she’s all business. Give her a Friday night at home, however, and she’s the ultimate couch potato. She’ll plant herself across my lap and fall asleep. She even snores.”

I pictured Dale and Gypsy all cozied together, and my attraction to him grew tenfold.

“She’s welcome to sniff my ear, lick my face, and hog my lap.” I reached around to pat Gypsy’s muzzle, and the dog’s tail thumped against the car seat.

“Can I get an invitation like that?” Dale sent me a sideways glance.

“You’ve got it.”

I raised the armrest between us and scooted closer. Dale rested his arm in my lap again, and I pulled off my glove first, then his. I slipped my hand under his, weaving our fingers together for a perfect fit. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I told myself to go with it. To enjoy it for however long it lasted.

The drive back to Fairbanks passed in a whirl of hot pink streaks across the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. Total darkness crept in as Dale pulled onto a narrow driveway. The pine forest on either side hugged the gravel, threatening to swallow the path once we went by. After a few minutes, a black silhouette appeared in a clearing amongst the trees. A thin beam of light grew wider as a garage door opened. In the headlights of the car, the rounded shapes of thick logs appeared on the exterior of the house.

“The infamous log cabin,” I said, remembering several emails from Dale when he was building it.

“I hope it lives up to how I’ve described it.”

“Other things have exceeded my expectations. Why shouldn’t your house?”

I climbed out of the car, shouldered my backpack, and checked out the black truck in the second garage bay.

“Two nice vehicles. Not too shabby.”

“The truck is part of my race win.” Dale pulled his backpack from the SUV and dropped it by a door I assumed led inside.

“Seriously? They give you a truck like this for traipsing through the snow with a couple of dogs?” I let out a whistle.

“Traipsing? More like freezing my balls off as the wind whipped at me and my champion pups.”

“Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes. Teasing him was such fun.

I looked at the neat shelves lining the interior of the garage. My eyes fell upon a row of bins, all tidily labeled with their contents.

“And I thought I was type A.”

“I hate messes.” He closed the garage door before the cold seeped in. Pulling off his hat, he came to stand next to me. “Go ahead. Make fun of me if you want, but if we need”—he paused and angled his head back to read one of the labels—“twelve-gauge speaker wire later on, I’ll know exactly where to get it.”

He pulled off my hat and threw it toward Zynk. The dog jumped up on two powerful hind legs and caught it in his jaws.

“Hey!”

“In,” Dale shouted, and Zynk bounded toward the door between the garage and the house. The dog burrowed through a doggie entrance cut into the bottom of the door and disappeared with my hat.

“Let’s see.” Dale looked me over. “What shall I give Gypsy?”

I rushed forward and gave him a playful shove. He pretended to be severely injured by my tap and then rushed for the door himself. “C’mon. Let’s eat something and get…warmed up.”

“I have some ideas on how to do just that.” I followed him inside.

“I’ll want to hear all of those ideas and probably try most of them.”

Once inside, Dale closed the door and, placing his palms on either side of me, he leaned in, touching his nose to mine. I unzipped his jacket and slipped my hands inside. A hum, so completely masculine, rumbled in his throat as I kneaded the muscles under his shoulder blades.

“Forget eating first.” He let his jacket drop, unzipped mine, and peeled it off.

My lips sought his, aching to have them take whatever they wanted. Dale forged a trail down my chin and continued along my neck until I shuddered against him. Taking a fistful of his thick sweater, I tugged it over his head and let it fall on top of his jacket. I spread my palms on his well-muscled chest as his heart thudded powerfully under his T-shirt.

He worked my fleece sweatshirt off and drew me close. The whiskers on his chin tickled my cheek as he explored my ear. Dale slipped his hands under my thermal shirt, his fingers rough, calloused, but warm and skilled around my waist.

Something akin to a groan escaped from my throat, and I swept my hands up to Dale’s neck. I stroked my fingers down both his arms and landed at the waist of his jeans. Gripping the end of his T-shirt, I pulled it off as well and couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped.

“Okay, maybe there’s a bit more to sled racing than I gave you credit for.” I explored his chest with the palm of my hand. “You don’t get muscles like these by merely traipsing through the snow.” I pressed my lips to his bared shoulder and delighted in his swift intake of breath.

“C’mon.” He took my hand and led me through what I only half-noticed was an enormous kitchen.

At the base of a staircase made entirely from logs, Dale paused as several loud barks sounded from the back of the house.

“Shit,” Dale hissed. “I have to feed them, or they won’t stop barking.” He turned his eyes—the greenest shade I’d seen yet—toward me apologetically.

“If I help you, it’ll be quicker.” I went back to the kitchen, making a mental note to inspect it more fully later, and retrieved our jackets. I turned around quickly and bumped into Dale, who had noiselessly followed me.

“They can wait another minute or two.” He crushed his lips down on mine, and I matched his fervor, kiss by kiss, caress by caress. I was slipping away. Blissfully light. Completely carefree. The cautious, disinterested Alanna I’d lived with for years had taken the night off.

The metallic clang that echoed in the kitchen ripped us both from our exploration of each other. We whipped our heads toward the direction of the noise.

“Gypsy,” Dale groaned. The dog whimpered, her blue eyes staring at the bowl at her feet. “Subtle. Real subtle.”

“Go on,” I said. “Poor girl. She’s starving.”

“So am I,” Dale mumbled, though I doubted he was thinking of food. As he bent to tip Gypsy’s bowl upright and set it next to three others, I stepped behind him. Still shirtless, his back cried out for me to touch it. I walked my fingers along his shoulders and combed them through his hair. He nearly dropped the container of dog food he was holding. I giggled as he juggled it, bouncing it between his hands before catching it.

“Am I making this difficult?” I nipped at the back of his ear.

“It’s certainly much more erotic than it usually is.” Dale shoveled out two heaping scoops of food into two of the four bowls. Zynk came to join Gypsy, the two of them now having oodles of patience as Dale prepared their meal. After a short whistle from Dale, the dogs descended upon the bowls and slopped down the meat.

“Do they need water?” Figured I ought to actually help if we were to ever…umm…get to our other business.

“Yep.” Dale handed me the remaining two bowls. Stepping toward the sink, a rustic, hammered copper one, I turned on a faucet shaped like an old-fashioned water pump. I filled both bowls and set them where Dale indicated. He had unfortunately put his shirt and jacket back on in the meantime.

“That’s a shame.” I tugged on his jacket and pouted.

“I can be unwrapped again. Don’t you worry.” He dropped a quick kiss on my nose. “C’mon. This way.”

I shrugged back into my sweatshirt and jacket and followed Dale out a back door by the stairs. My gaze wandered up the staircase toward the rooms that hovered above us. His bedroom was up there. I would see it tonight. My senses reeled at that little tidbit of information. I was not sure I was emotionally ready for such an escapade. Physically, the prospect of Dale scratching that itch seemed right though.

I jogged to catch up to Dale, who moved at warp speed. Dog barks thundered through the otherwise quiet backyard. He held a wire gate open for me, and I scooted in behind him. In the floodlights that came on as we stepped in their path, a wide, rectangular enclosure stretched before me in all directions. Twenty or so wooden doghouses formed a circle around the perimeter of the enclosure.

That was the last thing I noticed before the charge of dogs came at me.

“Ignore them and they’ll think you’re supposed to be here,” Dale instructed.

Their barking was so loud and constant. “That’s easier said than done.”

Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the doghouses behind the yapping dogs. Cool. Aloof. I could do that. I’d had practice. Men. Dogs. What was the difference, right?

About forty-two razor-sharp teeth each. That’s the difference.

Dale held out his left hand, fist up, and his right hand, palm down. Instantly the sixteen dogs that had rushed to us sat on their haunches, their barking silenced. When he brought his left fist down by his leg in a sharp arc, all the dogs lowered and put their heads on their front paws. Although all the dogs looked like huskies, their coloring varied. Some were all white. Others were black and white. And still others were a golden sand color.

“Stay.” His voice had so much authority in it.

An incredible turn-on. I certainly planned to stay.

“They’ll be quiet for a few now.” He started toward a large, barn-like shed at the back of the enclosure.