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It was clear to see he did. “My pleasure.” My shoulders fell and my soulhad an extra beat to it. I was happy to help him out. It felt good to return the favour. “So, since we have some time to kill before I whip you a fabulous supper, what are some fun things to do around here? I’m sure things have changed quite a bit since my teenage years.”

“Do you know how to skate?”

# # #

We parked his red pickup in the parking lot of the only school in town and exited. A small shack had been erected at the edge of the lot, along with dozens of benches. I rented some skates and pulled my toque down low enough to cover my ears, hopefully giving me a wee bit of cuteness before we pushed off from the bench.

It had been years since I’d donned a pair of skates, but likethe proverbial saying – it was just like riding a bike. After a couple of glides and some wiggly arms to help me regain my balance, I found my groove.

Jesse, on the other hand, lookedas if he was born on skates. Every push off seemed effortless, and he flipped from skating forward to gliding in reverse with ease.

“You’re good at this.” As my own glides lacked the strength to get me very far. I had to skate twice as hard as him to keep up.

“I come here all the time. It’s great exercise and it’s a good way to burn off the doldrums of the day.”

“I can only imagine. Seeing people in deep sadness and overwhelming grief must be draining.” I ran out of energy and plopped myself down on a bench.

Jesse sprayed iceto the edge of the rink as he came to a halt and joined me. “It can be. But I try not to take it personally. If I can work in the background and make sure everything is as perfect as can be, I call it a win. I don’t need to interact with the mourners, and only need to meet with the loved ones when we are making the arrangements.”

“With your compassion, I’m sure they appreciate all that you do.”

A faint blush reddened his cheeks, and he tugged on his mittens. “I just try to treat people how they deserve to be treated. With dignity and respect.”

A teenage boy skated by.“Hey, Mr. Lancaster.”

“Merry Christmas, Jordan.” He turned back to me. “He works at the grocer. Small town, right?”

“Verymuch so. I live in Vancouver, and I wouldn’t be able to guess the names of those who bag my groceries or pour my coffee.”

“Quite different though. Turnover is probably pretty high, but here, people tend to keep their jobs as job possibilities aren’tendless.” He waved at another skater.

“Where did you live before you moved here?”

“Richmond.”

“That’s pretty big. Lots of jobsthere.”

He shrugged. “Maybe now. But not a few years ago. And definitely not in my field.What about you? Did you give up being a full-time homemaker and are now just starting out in accounting?”

Having rested, Ipatted his thigh and pushed myself back onto the two blades.

“C’mon. I’ll race you.” I scrambled to dig my toe pick in and go as fast as I could around the oval, but it wasn’t a fewstrides until I heard the telltale sound of blades scraping across the ice as Jesse caught up.

“I didn’t mean to offend you by asking.”

“You didn’t.” Iforced a smile and found a nice easy rhythm to skate to as I buried down the nagging heartache. “I’m just not a homemaker.” And will never be. That implied children. Something I could never produce. “I’m actually a controller.”

Jesse’s sweet laugh was music to my ears.“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds like something I can see you doing. You do like to be in control.”

Laughing and skatingat the same time were too much for me to handle, and I waved my arms rapidly to prevent a fall. Luckily though, Jesse was right there to steady me.

“Thanks.” I cast my gaze downward for a heartbeat before I explained. “I oversee the financial reports and help the company budget their money.”

It had been ahard fought for dream because after we got married, Charlie insisted I stop working full time. Thankfully, I had managed part time for a few years, and a year ago, after the devastating news I would never carry a child, I went full time. The title made it sound like a bigger deal than it really was.

“So, you’re really good with money?”

“I guess.”


Tags: H.M. Shander Romance