Page 51 of The Way Back Home
“Just us,” he replied, and he tried not to think about how good that sounded.
She followed him to the old barn that had been converted into a garage. Instead of livestock, it nowheld tractors, trailers, dirt bikes, and several sleek, high-performance snowmobiles.
Teagan took it in, her eyes roaming over the equipment. “What’s all this for?”
“Taking care of the property mostly.”
“How much land does your family own?”
“A fair amount,” he answered vaguely. “Zieglers have been living on this mountain for generations, buying up property as it becomes available.”
Once he maneuvered one of the two-seaters onto the fresh powder, he guided her toward the front seat, but she resisted.
“Shouldn’t I sit in the back?”
“Not with your injuries. It’s safer for you up front, where I can keep you from jostling around too much.”
She hummed softly.
“Or, if you prefer, we could go back to the house and decorate cookies with my nieces and nephews,” he said.
She let him help her into place.
He mounted the rear seat, reaching around her to grab the handles. Her posture was stiff, her hands awkwardly in her lap.
That wasn’t going to work.
“Lean back on me,” he coaxed, stretching his much longer legs along her thighs to keep her in place. “It’ll be easier on your back that way.”
After only a brief hesitation, she obeyed, and he began to question the sanity of his plan. Having her so close, feeling her weight pressing lightly against him,and scenting the fragrance of his shampoo on her hair conjured images that fractured his focus.
He called upon his inner discipline and eased away from the barn, taking it slow along trails he could navigate with his eyes closed. He and his siblings had spent so many hours on this mountain; he knew every inch like the back of his hand. Little by little, she began to relax.
“Must have been nice, growing up here.” The wistfulness in her voice was audible over the purr of the engine.
“It was,” he agreed.
Plenty of woods to hunt in. Creeks to fish in. He wanted to show Teagan all of it.
“Who knew running a farmers market was so lucrative?”
“You’d be surprised. People come from all over for the experience. Hundreds of vendors, mostly local. Farmers, of course, but also butchers, bakers?—”
“Candlestick makers?” she said teasingly.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Lots of niche small businesses. Candles, soap, candy, roasted nuts, art, Army surplus. You name it, you can find it there.”
“Did you work there when you were growing up?”
“Oh, yes,” he said with a laugh. “Family tradition. In fact, some of us still do. The place is only open on the weekends though, so everyone has their regular day jobs too.”
They came to a clearing, and Noah opened the throttle, putting a temporary halt to the Q & A. Teagan’s delightedwhoopfilled his chest withsunshine, so he turned around and did it several more times.
It was a perfect winter day. The sun was shining brightly. The air was clean and crisp. Heavy, wet snow glistened and clung to the draping limbs on the acres of deep green pines.
He didn’t want it to end. But she had to be getting cold, and even as careful as he was, he worried about overdoing it.
“Ready to head back?” he asked reluctantly.
