WINTER WONDERLAND (13 page)

My initial reaction is to dart into a nook and carry on with my husky research until Annique shows up, but then I have a change of heart. I simply don’t have the energy to be snippy with him today. His ‘crime’ seems so trivial now – it’s not as though he made me any lifelong promises; if anything he was quite clear when he told me, ‘
I can’t do this.
’

‘Morning!’ I say as I sit beside him.

He looks taken aback. ‘Hi!’

‘You wanted to talk to me? Yesterday … ’

‘I-I … ’ he stammers, looking defeated before he’s begun. ‘You must think I’m a total eel.’

‘You mean heel?’ I frown.

‘I still can’t believe I made such a mess of things.’

‘You haven’t – everything’s fine with Annique. I haven’t said anything and I won’t.’

‘I meant with you,’ he looks earnestly into my bloodshot eyes. ‘I’ve messed things up with you.’

‘That’s okay,’ I shrug. ‘Let’s just pretend it never happened, shall we?’

‘I don’t want you to think I behave like that all the time.’

‘Just when the temperature drops below zero?’

He purses his lips. ‘I have tried to find an explanation in myself, why I would be so unprofessional when we had only just met, but all I can say is that I was lost to our creation, I stopped thinking, I was only acting upon my desire … ’

‘Oh,’ I swat away his words, though the notion of being desired couldn’t come at a better time. ‘I’m not a long-term prospect and Annique is – you made the right choice.’

‘Then why doesn’t it feel right?’

‘It’s just guilt and embarrassment messing with your head.’

‘Is it?’ He looks troubled.

‘Yes. You two pin-ups are perfect for each other.’

‘Here she is now … ’ He gets to his feet.

I turn around and immediately do a double take. I barely recognise her. Her billowing blowout has become a lop-sided ponytail, those wide glittering eyes are shrunken and crinkled, her glowing skin parched.

‘Oh my god!’ I rush to her side. ‘You’ve been Caribou-d!’

She gives the smallest of nods.

‘What happened?’

‘After you left we thought we’d play a drinking game … ’

I turn back to Gilles. ‘How come you look so normal?’

‘They dropped me back here on the way to the Grande Allée,’ he explains as I guide Annique over to the lobby sofa. ‘I wanted to go through my shots so I could show you a few of the best, so you’d know I was doing a good job.’

‘Okay, well I’ll look at those in the car. For now we need to get Annique a greasy spoon … ’

Suddenly I don’t feel so bad. If anything I feel a newfound bond with Annique and Gilles. It seems oddly virtuous to wish them well and a whole lot safer than having any romantic entanglements myself. Jacques is a far better bet for me because he’s emotionally out of reach and therefore I can have my secret crush without any attachment to an outcome. I just like being around him. I like his presence. I like his vibe. I like his eyes. I like watching him with the dogs. I like hearing him speak, and when he speaks directly to me I feel honoured. Special, even. See? Utterly harmless crush.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘This place is so different in the snow.’ Annique watches the Île d’Orléans flash past the car window. ‘I used to come here every summer – my ex’s family has a house here.’ She looks wistful. ‘Every summer for ten years … ’

I’d like to ask more about how and why this man became an ex – because really, who would let her go? – but decide it’s not polite in front of Gilles.

So instead I decide to wow them with my brand-new husky/sledding knowledge.

‘Did you know that huskies’ nose colour can change from black to pink during the winter?’

They shake their heads.

‘It’s a condition called “snow nose”!’ I reveal, rather tickled by the name. ‘And the original Inuit sleds were made of two lengths of frozen salmon wrapped in animal hides with a few stray bones as cross-bars!’

‘
What?
’

‘Sometimes they just carved the whole thing out of ice.’

‘The whole sled?’

I nod.

‘That’s another idea for Brandon, I think!’

‘How come so many of the dogs have different-coloured eyes?’ Gilles wants to know.

‘I’m not sure about the why but I know the name for it – heterochromia or bi-eyed.’

‘Jacques is bi-eyed,’ Annique notes absently.

‘Yes he is,’ I sigh.

Mostly we drive in silence, conserving our energy. At least one of us trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

‘And you’re sure we are welcome here?’ Annique checks as we vroom up the driveway.

‘Absolutely,’ I insist.

It is therefore unfortunate that the first person we see is Sebastien.

‘You again,’ is his opening gambit.

‘Sebastien!’ I feign delight. ‘I’d like you to meet my tour guide Annique and photographer Gilles.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘You have entourage?’

‘Only when I’m working.’ I reply. ‘We’re doing a piece on this place for a UK travel website. Maybe Jacques mentioned it?’

‘Maybe.’

Okay. I can see we’re not going to get anywhere with him.

‘Is he around?’

He nods over to the main building.

‘Great, thanks for your help.’

‘
Sacré bleu!
What’s his problem?’ Annique mutters as we head up the path.

‘I think he back-flipped out of the wrong side of the barn this morning.’

‘
Comment?
’

‘Nothing. He’s just a grouch.’

Whereas Jacques, aka the Wolfman, the one who is supposed be snarly and aloof, greets us with a warm smile and handshakes all round.

‘This place is great,’ Gilles enthuses. ‘So picturesque. Mind if I … ’ Already he wants to start taking detail shots of the fireplace and clumpy boots and muddy footprints on the slate floors.

‘Help yourself, just not of me, okay?’

What a waste, I think to myself. I know the readers could happily while away a tea break gazing at that face.

‘Ready for another ride?’ he asks me.

‘Can’t wait!’ I reply. ‘I’m just a little concerned that I still have last night’s Caribou coursing through my veins.’

He snuffles a laugh. ‘Well, I’ll arrange a gentle team for you.’ He looks over at Annique. ‘You too with the Caribou?’

She nods back. ‘Do you mind if I stay in here? Every time I move my head the floor starts tilting.’

‘No problem. There’s hot chocolate out the back, blankets in that trunk, help yourself.’

‘So, there’s a couple of shots I wanted to get,’ Gilles explains to Jacques as we head over to the dogs.

First he’ll do some stationary ones with the dog-sled team but what he really wants is to lie in the snow and click away as I dash past.

Jacques nods. ‘They typically run the whole circuit so we will maintain a forward motion, but we can stop them en route and give you a chance to get ahead of us again.’

Jacques introduces me to my team. I was hoping to see Maddy again but she is having a day off.

‘This one – Sherri – she seems rather shy,’ I observe, surprised he has her up front.

‘Don’t worry – you will see when she starts running, she’s a true athlete, very focussed.’ He rubs her copper-coloured forehead. ‘All set?’

‘Isn’t someone coming with me?’

‘I have confidence – Sebastien said you picked it up very quickly.’

‘Yes, but I wasn’t drunk-driving then.’

‘You’ll be fine. I’ll ride ahead so they have me in their sights.’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

I like his certainty. It’s been a while since a man believed in me. I hope I don’t cock it up.

‘Okay, step on.’ He holds the sled in place while I join him on the metal bar. This is the closest I’ve ever stood to him – so close that our coat fabrics are rustling together. It’s a good feeling.

‘Let me get a little way ahead then release the brake.’

I nod.

‘You got it?’

As he steps off I add a second foot, for extra security. Now my nerves are really kicking in. It felt a lot more stable with another body weighing down the sled. I never thought I’d say that I miss Sebastien, but right now I do.

Jacques goes ahead to his sled and in seconds he’s off like a rocket.

My team are chomping at the bit, near hysterical with eagerness to play catchup. He raises his arm, signalling for me to follow, but I can’t bring myself to step off the brake, fearing the sled is going to jerk too violently.

‘
Allez!
’ Gilles calls.

Oh why did I step on the brake with two feet – now I have to do a little jump onto the feet grips.

‘Now Krista!’

Oh well, here goes nothing!

I jump, misjudge the placement of my right foot, stumble as I foolishly try to stabilise myself on the ground racing beneath me, and within seconds I’m lying face down in the snow, my charges hurtling away from me, heading straight for Gilles.

I see Jacques turn back, brake, then cry out: ‘Sebastien!’

He’s atop the barn again, squatting like Spiderman on a skyscraper. Surely he’s not going to swoop down from there? Of course he is, like only he can – as the sled passes he lands perfectly in the seat and then throws out his boot-clad feet and digs his heels deep into the snow, calling for the dogs to stop. Which they do.

Gilles is on his feet, cheering. ‘
C’est incroyable! Bravo!
’

Meanwhile I feel utterly, utterly humiliated. I’ve let down Jacques, proved Sebastien both right and wrong (yes, I’m nothing but a nuisance and no, I’m not a natural at this at all)
and
messed up the photos.

It takes all my strength to get back up on my feet. I should’ve stayed in bed after all.

‘Are you okay?’

Jacques has jogged back to check on me, leaving Gilles holding his sled in place.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I begin, unable to look at him.

‘You don’t think every sledder has taken a tumble?’

‘In the first two seconds?’

‘I forgot the weight was different for you. You’ll be fine now you’re prepared.’

‘You want me to do it again?’

‘Of course. Hush!’ he shushes the baying dogs. ‘Sebastien has them ready to go for you.’

Great. Now I have to face him.

‘Krista.’

There he is saying my name again.

‘Don’t give up on me.’

I look into his eyes, those incredible, other-worldly eyes, and feel a rush of emotion.

‘Okay, okay, I’ll do it.’

‘Good girl!’ he says, tapping me on the bottom in the least offensive way – it can hardly be seen as sexual when it’s tucked beneath a multitude of quilting.

He runs on ahead as I tramp over to Sebastien, taking deep breaths, ready for whatever comment he has prepared for me.

‘Thank you for stopping the dogs,’ I say, matter-of-factly.

‘No problem.’

That’s it?

‘You don’t want to say anything else?’ I squint at him.

‘Like what?’

‘Like I should just give up and go home?’

‘But then what would I do for entertainment?’

I can’t tell if he’s teasing
in a nice way
.

‘Well. I hate to spoil your fun but this time I’m doing it right.’

He studies me for a second.

‘Trade places with me and stand on the brake.’

I do as he says but then I’m taken by surprise as he steps on behind me, reaching around me to hold the bar. His chest is pressed against my back and I can feel his chin pressing into my hat.

‘Now let me take over the brake.’

‘Okay … ’ I carefully place my feet on the bars.

‘Take a breath.’

I inflate my lungs and then slowly exhale.

‘Let the dogs do the work, they’re the professionals; all you have to do is hold on and look pretty for the camera.’

‘
Allez allez!
’ he cries as he jumps off the brake, throwing himself back into the snow.

I actually find myself laughing this time. He’s obnoxious but he’s so darn cool! And I’m doing it! Running the dogs by myself! Look at me go! Suddenly I feel entirely uninhibited and fearless!

‘Woooohooooo!’

Oh this is just beautiful!

Again I feel as if I could race forever, but Jacques is motioning for me to start applying the brake.

‘Woah, woah.’ I grind to a halt. It worked! I stopped in the right place.

I watch him tie his sled rope to a tree and then he comes back to assist me. As soon as my sled is secured he throws open his arms.

‘You did it!’

I fall into him with a grateful, palpitating thud.

‘I knew you could do it!’

‘Thank you for having faith,’ I beam back at him. ‘And patience. And an acrobatic brother.’

He laughs. ‘He’s quite something isn’t he? We have got to get him back to the Cirque.’

‘Why did he ever leave?’ I ask, reluctantly stepping out of the hug.

‘It has to do with me.’ He pats the snow off his gloves. ‘Bit of a misunderstanding. Either way, the guy is driving me crazy here.’ And then his phone rings. ‘Hold on. Yes, we’re over just past the river. We’ll wait for him to catch up.’ He turns back to me. ‘Your photographer is on his way.’

‘Great,’ I say, though of course I really wish he wasn’t. ‘So, would Cirque du Soleil have him back?’