29
Two days later, Gunnar quadruple-checked the dogs’ lines and the stakes keeping them put. He’d thought he’d been diligent before, but now that it was just him and Julie, his meticulous need for precision had turned obsessive. Julie’s safety, her life, depended on him being vigilant and thorough in every aspect of their day. It exhausted him, but he’d take the stress any day if it meant he could be with Julie. He wouldn’t let her down—not again.
He scanned the horizon one last time while he yanked on the line he’d run from the tent to the dogs in case a blizzard blew in. The cold spiked through his thin gloves he wore when he needed nimble fingers, causing him to shiver. Everything was as settled as it could be outside. Time to get warm.
His mouth twitched on one side. He and Julie had been so fatigued the night before after battling a headwind all day, they’d barely let the freeze-dried dinner plump up before they inhaled it and rolled into bed. Maybe tonight he could sneak in some snogging, as her father used to say.
Gunnar smiled at the memory of him and Julie jumping apart every time Mr. Sparks hollered that up the stairs. That man had always seemed to know when kissing happened.
He wasn’t there to stop any making out now.
No one was.
The twitch of Gunnar’s mouth turned into a full-blown smile as anticipation surged like salmon racing upriver. He unzipped the tent flap, then took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. No use startling Jules with a giddy expression plastered on his face.
Ducking into the tent, he caught the slump of her shoulders and the way the corners of her mouth pulled down like all her energy had drained from her. While the soft smile she sent his way as he pulled off his boots brightened her face, it didn’t hide her weariness. Was it wrong to drag her the rest of the way to the Pole?
What if her body wasn’t strong enough for the rigors the brutal trail required of her? They’d never talked about her cancer after that night at the pool. What if in his eagerness to have this adventure with her like they used to, he put too much of a demand on her? The happy salmon in his gut turned to hungry orca, ripping at him from inside. What if he couldn’t keep her safe?
“Just another minute and dinner will be done.” Julie pointed to a mug steaming next to the stove. “I made you tea.”
“Thanks.”
Gunnar pulled off his parka and hung it on the hook attached to the side of the tent by the little propane stove. Any moisture collected in it hopefully would evaporate before they tucked in for the night. Next, he stripped off his snow pants, hoping the mechanical movements of getting settled for the evening would calm his racing thoughts and ease the gnawing pain in his gut.
He’d been trained to keep his cool, wore the distinction of pararescueman perfectly. Put him around Julie, and his control faltered. Too many emotions and worries battled against his mastered vigilance. The problem was, he didn’t just want her safe. He wanted her healthy… happy. Making sure that happened went beyond the mechanical efficiency drilled into him by years of war.
“I’m so tired of mushing in the inside of a ping-pong ball, I’d welcome some pressure ridges or leads of water to break the monotony up.” Julie sighed and stirred the pouch of food before extending it to him.
“Yeah. The cloud cover and wide expanse certainly make everything flat white.” Gunnar hadn’t ever experienced such sameness before in all his travels. “Though I think I’ll stick with the dome of snow as opposed to the treacherous ridges.”
Especially after what happened with Mason.
“We’ve made good speed the last two days. We keep this up, and we’ll be to the Pole lickety-split.” She took a bite of chowder.
He grinned at her expression. The more she talked, the more the tension eased from her body. He loved that being with him did that to her. Shoot, talking with anyone would probably relieve the stress. Mushing was such a solitary endeavor and running through the vast sameness as they had for the last two days magnified the loneliness of the sport.
“Just as long as we’re safe, I don’t care how fast we get there.” Gunnar sighed around his last bite and watched Julie’s mouth lift before she took a drink.
What he wouldn’t give to pull her close right now and kiss a trail from the corner of her mouth to that sensitive spot she used to have behind her ear. Was it still there? Would she still purr that mewing sound she always made? Gunnar snatched the mug of tea up and chugged a drink, scalding the back of his throat.
“We only have two donuts left.” Julie put her trash away and brushed her hands together. “Do we save them for another night or plow through them now?”
“I have a better idea.” He blew on the tea, peeking at her over the rim. “I brought you something.”
“What?”
Her mouth flew open, and her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. She covered her smile with the tips of her fingers. That wouldn’t do. He grabbed her hand and rubbed her palm before bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing them. Reluctantly, he let them go and pointed to his pack.
“In the front pocket.” He hid his anticipation for her reaction by taking a drink.
“You remembered.” She pulled out the Reese’s Pieces and turned the bag over in her hands.
“I remember everything.” Setting the mug aside, he pushed her hair over her shoulder.
She tilted her head to the side, her muscles relaxing beneath his touch. Just as he leaned in to test if that spot behind her ear was still sensitive, she straightened and her brow creased. Her hand slowly reached into his pack and pulled out her two letters.
“I can’t believe you still have these.” Her soft words, while not harsh or pained, cut deep into his heart.