Page 32 of Love Under Snowfall

The ascent up to Skyline Lake had Frankie so enthralledthat she’d nearly forgotten all about the terrifying Professor Clark.

Terrifying. Ha.

Since leaving NWU for winter break, Benjamin had morphed into nothing but a nuisance. And while her family law grade still hung in the balance, her former professor no longer held the same intimidation as before. In class, he had been a gatekeeper to a solid GPA, but out here in the snow, onherturf . . . he was just a man.

And Frankie feared no man.

Not since her last foster home all those years ago.

“So, you normally engage in these types of activities?” Benjamin asked through labored breaths and slight wheezes.

“Yes,” Frankie scoffed. “I guide for Off the Beaten.”

“And you enjoy this?”

“You don’t?”

She noted his pause, assuming he was giving thoughtful consideration to something that should be a pretty simple answer. In her experience, the customers she guided either loved snowshoeing or hated it with a fiery passion. For Frankie, doing anything outside was like medicine. No matter what ailed her—stress or lingering trauma—getting back to nature soothed her troubles like a mystical balm.

After being adopted by the Millers—her destined family—most of her free time was spent exploring the area. Her mom and dad took her and Jonathan on every trail, down every river, up every mountain as though they were helping her search for peace. It didn’t take long before she found it. The outdoors tamed the once-feral spirit inside of her by quieting the urge to constantly prepare for a fight. She found safety. Freedom.

Purpose.

“I suppose it has its merits,” Benjamin began. “For instance, physical activity is good for the lungs and endurance. And thepeace is rather soothing. Being cut off from the pressures of the everyday is proving to be—”

“Ohmygod stop,” Frankie growled.

Benjamin huffed indignantly. “You asked me—”

“I know what I asked.” She whirled around. “But you’re turning it into some categorical analysis that you can lump into a pros and cons list. Not everything has to be so sterile or rigid. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the ‘merits’ of snowshoeing.”

“But youasked—”

“I asked if you liked it.” She sighed. “Not for a dissertation.”

Benjamin chewed on his lip, and Frankie could practically feel him swallowing the rest of his bullet points. “I guess if I have to give a gut reaction . . .”

“Yes. Do exactly that.”

“Then I hate it.” His scowl gave way to a broad smile. Relief washed over his body, and he tilted his head back. The air was dense and foretold of snow. “I truly hate it. I will never snowshoe again.”

The genuineness of his response shocked Frankie. She’d expected something a little more politically correct:I can see why others enjoy this particular activity, but perhaps it isn’t quite for me. Pip pip, blah blah.She hadn’t counted on an unedited expression of loathing. But it was his grin that startled her the most. Or perhaps it was how his deep dimples and the crinkled lines at the corner of his eyes awakened hibernating butterflies in her stomach.

“Well.” She cleared her throat loudly to scare away the annoying bugs. “Isn’t that better? Going with your gut instead of some empirical system?”

“Yes,” he said with straight white teeth still exposed.

She ignored his indigo eyes as they scanned her face, lingering on the lip she worried.

“Let’s go.”

“If we must,” he said with a sigh, an edge of mirth dancing on each syllable.

Frankie took off, ascending the trail at the same speed she’d been hauling since the start.

“Hey, slow down. Dang it,” he mumbled, catching the front of his right snowshoe on the back of his left heel.

Dang it?Was this the Hallmark Channel or something?

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