Winter Dreams Page 5

  The rest of the house merely needed a good cleaning and the dustcovers removed from the furniture. She did replace some of the faded curtains and rugs, and she hired one of Pete's brothers to refinish the oak floor in the large living room. One of Pete's sisters made new braided rugs. A feminine talent Laura did possess was an eye for colors, and she chose earthy tones, brightened here and there with fall maple reds and birch yellows.

  There was a bedroom for each of the Montdulacs, the master one more subdued, but a middle one decorated in peaches and greens. Recalling her own childhood bedroom, Laura used eyelet-lace-trimmed curtains and pillow cases in the smallest bedroom. She was extremely proud of how the house had turned out, but Sandy didn't comment on it, frustrating her once more.

  After touring the cabin, Sandy stopped by the large front windows a second time, staring at the view of Lake Superior. With a clear, brilliant blue sky today, they could see a freighting ship disappearing over the far horizon.

  "I love watching the lake," Laura murmured. "There's just something about it that relaxes me, except when a storm comes up. Then it's different — a wild and fierce beauty."

  He grunted an acknowledgment, then rather bluntly pronounced the house adequate for his needs. Turning away from the window, he asked, "Shall we go look at your kennels now?"

  He strode to the door without waiting for her to proceed him. But he opened the door and pivoted around to wait for her, nearly catching her as she mocked his last sentence with silent lips. Cut off in the middle of the word "kennel," she realized her top lip was drawn back in a sneer, and she quickly widened her eyes and covered her mouth, forcing out the most believable cough she could manage. However, it was half a strangled giggle as she comprehended the silly picture she must have made when he saw her face.

  "Uh . . . I guess we missed a little dust in here," she said when she could speak.

  He very deliberately slid a finger across a small table beside the door, then examined the end of it. "Looks clean to me."

  She bit the side of her cheek to keep from laughing, although he hadn't spoken in a teasing manner. Instead of arguing with him, she tilted her nose up just a tad and walked by him. Too bad she hadn't worn a skirt this morning. Sweeping it aside as she passed him would have been the perfect accompaniment to her haughty comportment. She thought of giving a disdainful sniff, but quelled the urge since he'd already caught her mimicking him a few seconds ago. Besides, he'd probably take it as a slight, instead of the joshing she meant it as.

  If Sandy Montdulac had ever had a funnybone, it must have gotten broken somehow.

  At that thought, she stifled another giggle, hurrying faster so she could stay far enough ahead of him to hide her facial expression. The problem with that was she also kept her nose tilted upward, and the peg pins for the dog chains were set in the ground in front of each of the new doghouses. Catching her toe on one of them, she sprawled face down before she could catch herself.

  Immediately she felt his touch on her shoulder and knew he'd knelt beside her.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  Giggling wildly, she flipped over onto her back and stared up at him. "Ever make a snow angel?" she asked around her laughter.

  Sticking her arms out, she moved them up and down, while she spread her legs back in forth in the opposite direction. He quickly stood, and she reached out a hand to him.

  "Help me up so I don't ruin my angel," she demanded.

  Rather reluctantly, he took her hand, and she heaved to her feet, stumbling against him when he released her. Stepping back to catch her balance, she shook her head at him.

  "Do you ever have any fun, Mr. Montdulac?"

  He drew a hand down his face, then quickly averted his head. "Are those the kennels?"

  "Yes," she said in a resigned voice. "Come on. I'll introduce you to Pete, and let him show you around there."

  "I can introduce myself to him!" Without apologizing for his snarling tone, Sandy strode off.

  She followed more slowly, wanting to actually see how he got along with her dogs. She also pondered why she didn't just tell this cantankerous man she'd decided he would be inappropriate for her needs and to go on back to Alaska. One reason, she admitted, was they might not find anyone else her father would approve of in time enough for her to still train for the race. And she very much doubted David would tolerate her postponing their wedding date for another twelve months, so she could make a try at the race the following year.

  David hadn't resisted the lengthy engagement thus far, but it would humiliate him in front of the townspeople if it went on too long. In David's mind, keeping up a measure of propriety was necessary for him to attract sufficient clients from the town and the surrounding county. And if she did go ahead and get married this coming summer, she'd probably be with child by that winter, from what she'd seen of most of her friends' marriages. David darned well wouldn't let her participate in a race while carrying one of their children. Of course, she would never think of taking a chance like that anyway.

  There was something else about Sandy Montdulac, however, which made her a little more patient with his uncommunicative behavior than she would normally tolerate. She responded to some sort of unspoken challenge to at least make him chuckle, as he had once with Katie. Next on the agenda would be a full-fledged guffaw, and then maybe a rib-tickling bout of falling-down hilarity.

  She had no earthly idea why she felt like she should plug away at his hostility. Perhaps that stubborn streak her father and David took every opportunity to remind her was part of her disposition prodded her. Or perhaps just because she'd never run up against such a blatant disregard of her friendship attempts before, and her self-esteem was taking a beating.

  She marched on, determined to breach the impediments. Sandy and Pete were already deep in discussion when they exited the kennel door as she drew near. She walked up to them, and Sandy sidled around Pete, placing Pete between her and him. She held her peace, but when they approached one of her breeding bitches and Sandy knelt to examine the dog, Laura started to lean over his shoulder to pet it. Seeming to sense her intent, Sandy stood and walked around the dog, only barely brushing her shoulder.

  He didn't appear ready to approach Blancheur yet, but Sandy looked over all her other dogs — all the while maintaining as much distance between her and him as he could. She allowed Pete to explain the attributes of the various dogs and the harness positions for the ones she used on her team. Pete even talked about the timing of when the bitches would come into season, not tempering his wording at all, since he had to have those discussions with her at times. Sandy, however, gave her a fleeting glance, then turned a bright red. He hurried over to another dog, this time a male, smoothly moving to the far side of the dog when she came up.

  "I'll bet he dances well," Laura murmured to Pete.

  Sandy's eyes flew to her. "What?"

  "Oh, I was just commenting on how good my pants felt on my legs in the chill this morning," she said.

  His gaze flickered to her trousers and immediately away. Pete fell into a violent coughing fit for some reason, and she smiled at him enigmatically when he finally controlled himself.

  "You better take care of that," she told Pete. "Do you want me to ask Katie to make you up some thyme tea and honey?"

  "Sounds like a good idea," Pete surprised her by saying. "I could use some right now."

  He jerked his head toward the house, and Laura read the message in his eyes. He and Sandy would get a lot more accomplished if she'd leave them alone. Agreeable for the moment, she wandered toward the house without excusing herself. At the back door, she turned. The men were walking back toward the kennel.

  She didn't see how on earth Sandy Montdulac would be able to handle the hours on end they'd have to be alone together out on the trails. Why, he'd be a jumpy mess of nerves by the end of the first day if he kept trying to make sure he kept his distance from her.

  What on earth was his problem? He related fine to Katie, a
nd her father had admitted last night to being impressed with the man. Pete had taken to Sandy right away. If he hadn't, Pete would have been standoffish. She'd seen Pete snub men before. It must be just her, but she couldn't think of anything she might have done to alienate the man before he even arrived, since his attitude toward her had been distant right from their first meeting.

  Well, she mused, maybe there were a couple things Sandy couldn't accept about her. One, she was a woman who had the audacity to plan to breach the masculine stronghold of sled dog racing. Two, she was a woman who ignored his cautions about the dangers of the race, and most men expected a woman to heed every word they uttered.

  All right. Maybe there were more than a couple things. Three, she was a woman who would in effect be his boss and on whom he would depend for approval for his wages to be paid. Four, she was a woman who didn't accept his taciturnity and kept trying to make him laugh. Five, she was a woman who . . . .

  Land sakes! Maybe it was just that she was a woman. Or, since he got along fine with Katie, a young woman.

  She delivered Pete's request for a cough remedy to Katie, then headed back to the kennels. She and Sandy Montdulac had to get a couple things straight if they were going to work together.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  While Pete gave the dogs fresh water, Sandy sat at the office desk to study the Huskies' breeding records. Pete had made it a point to assure him that Laura made the decisions as to which dog covered which bitch during her season, and Laura's face intruded between him and the pages of records. He couldn't imagine casually discussing things like that with a woman — Laura, especially.

  He leaned back in the chair, completely distracted from the records. My God! Did she have any idea what she looked like sprawled on the ground while making that snow angel? She'd laid at his feet, legs wide open on their outward sweep as though to beckon him and accept him into her! Her arm movements verified to him that, even though her breasts were small, they mounded deliciously and perked to delicate points. She darned sure wasn't wearing any undergarments on her upper half!

  "I see you're looking over the records," her voice said beside his ear as a delicate touch landed on his shoulder.

  Sandy flew from the chair, and it skittered backward, crashing against the wall. Instantly he controlled his emotions. This had to stop! If they were going to work together, he couldn't let her know how much it bothered him when she got close to him. After passing a hand down his face, he turned to her.

  "I thought you'd gone into the house."

  Her green eyes twinkled mischievously. "I did, but it didn't take long to ask Katie to mix up some cough remedy for Pete. And I knew you'd need me out here when you finally got around to becoming better acquainted with Blancheur."

  "I'd rather approach that dog on my own. He and I need to set up the standards of our relationship right from the start."

  "Speaking of setting up relationship standards . . . ." Laura pursed her lips in thought, then nodded as though coming to a decision. "We need to work on our relationship, too, Mr. Montdulac. And the first thing I'd like is your permission to call you Sandy, as well as asking you to call me Laura."

  When Sandy hesitated, she continued, "Unless you've decided to turn down this position. And I'll be completely honest with you — I hope that's not the case. I was impressed with your examination of my dogs a while ago and the things you said to Pete about them. I could tell you knew exactly what you were talking about. You also saw the good points of the Husky breed, even if you do feel a certain loyalty to your Malamutes. I believe we could work well together, if we can iron out the one problem you appear to have with me."

  "And what is that?"

  "Um . . . I believe I could show you better than tell you — and start working on solving the problem at the same time."

  He lifted an eyebrow, and she said, "The first thing I want you to do is say 'Laura.'"

  After a second he grudgingly repeated, "Laura."

  "Great!" She clapped her hands together and beamed at him. "Now, give me your hand."

  Unable to stop himself, he pulled back, then gritted his teeth and held out his hand. She took it in her small fingers and placed it on her shoulder.

  The wool of her shirt was soft beneath his touch, draping across the rounded point where her arm connected to her shoulder. His thumb instinctively moved back and forth, but he halted its movement after one stroke. She reached for his other hand and settled it on her waist. Then she laid her hands on his chest, palms outward.

  "There," she said in a satisfied tone. "That doesn't hurt a bit, does it, Sandy?"

  "Hurt? Hell, I never expected touching you to hurt," he muttered truthfully.

  A quizzical expression crossed her face. "Then what did you expect? Why do you jump like a startled deer whenever I get near you?"

  "Does it matter?" he asked, pulling his hands free.

  "Well, yes, it does," she shot back at him, clenching her fingers in his shirt so he couldn't move away. "We're going to be spending lots of time together out on the trail, with only each other to depend upon. I'd hate to think if I got dumped off my sled or, heaven forbid, fell through some thin ice, you wouldn't help me because it meant touching me!"

  "Don't be ridiculous." He stared into her upturned face, his gaze drawn to her lips, which were pouting in reaction to her obstinate comments. "Touching you in order to save your from danger wouldn't be a problem. But . . . ." He fought it, but his head dropped toward her mouth. "But you need to remember, touching between a man and woman can cause some types of danger, and quit deliberately placing yourself in the direct path of the hazard!"

  She gasped and pulled her hands back. This time he grabbed her before she could move away.

  "Tell me, Laura," he murmured. "Didn't your courtship prior to your engagement give you an idea of what those dangers could be? Why a man and woman have to be careful not to spend too much time with each other until they've been wed — and have the right to examine those dangers together?"

  Very slowly he drew her palms back to his chest, covering her hands with his to hold them in place. His head dropped a little further, and she drew in her breath, eyes as wide and wary as a mesmerized deer. He kept waiting for her to jerk free, slap his face, something, yet when she spoke, it took him completely off guard.

  "I . . . I started this, so I can't blame you for reacting in a typically masculine manner, Sandy," she said cautiously. "And yes, Katie has discussed these dangers you refer to with me. I act without thinking sometimes, though. So I hope you'll take that into consideration and forget about this."

  She twisted her hand beneath his hold, and something hard prodded the side of his palm. Glancing down, he saw her engagement ring, which glowed even in the dim office light, warning him away. He moved almost as fast as the chair had, stepping back and rubbing his palms against his trouser legs. Laura clasped her hands together, hiding the ring from both their sights.

  "I apologize," he said. "I overreacted and acted like an ass. I'm sorry."

  "It's my fault, too. I hope this doesn't tip the scales against our offer to you during your decision-making process."

  "Not really," Sandy admitted. "I do intend to accept this job, if you still want me."

  Relief at having the forced acceptance out of the way filled him. During his after-midnight walk, he'd mentally listed each and every barrier keeping him from stepping over the line drawn between him and Laura. He woke this morning assured of the lengthy account being adequate for him to keep his distance. Laura's comments now reinforced his certainty he could handle things. She was at least mature enough to realize they needed to keep their relationship on a business level.

  Still, rather than immediately accept his decision, Laura hesitated as she toyed with her engagement ring. He read doubt on her face, but it flickered only briefly in her green eyes, creasing the lovely skin on her forehead. Without asking her, however, he couldn't find out whether she was doubting his experience as
a trainer or how their working together would turn out.

  Then the determination he was fast coming to know was a primary characteristic of this tiny woman's personality settled into place.

  "I want you," Laura said. She gasped, then blushed furiously, appearing to catch the double entendre the same moment Sandy did. "For my trainer, I mean."

  She exhaled, which chased a tendril of auburn hair from her forehead, then picked up one of the files on the desk. "Do you have any suggestions for improvements to my breeding program?" she asked in a quick change of subject.

  Hell, as far as he was concerned, that topic wasn't any safer to discuss right now. Sandy waved away her question.

  "I haven't had enough time to really look it over. I'm going on out to have a chat with your lead dog. After that, I better get back to town and pick up Cristy and Tracie. They'd probably like some time before nightfall to start settling in here."

  "Katie was planning on your staying for lunch," Laura informed him. "I told her David would look after your sister and Tracie, so we assumed you'd eat with us."

  "Thank her for me, will you? But I have some other things to do in town too — like picking up a few groceries."

  "We have an account at the general store, if you need it."

  "I don't," he said curtly. Walking out of the office, he turned back to face her when he heard her follow. "Remember, I'm going up to Blancheur on my own this time."

  Rather reluctantly, she nodded. "I'll wait outside the kennel and watch."

  He started to warn her to do just that, but bit back the admonition. So far he hadn't seen anything about her to suggest untruthfulness; he'd trust her until he had a reason not to. He held the kennel door open, and she walked through, obediently stepping to the side and leaning against the building. Sandy walked on past, toward the white Husky.