Snow Angels by Sabrina York Page B

she was ready. When Bo realized they were going out, he pranced to the door and made impatient circles. Lyssa paled again. “I don’t think we should take him.”
    “He loves to go for walks.”
    She didn’t respond, other than to nibble her lower lip, which hardly counted.
    “Lyssa, are you all right?”
    She glanced at him and then glanced away. “Mmm hmmm.”
    He tipped up her chin until their gazes met. “Tell me. What’s bothering you?” Surely he hadn’t been too rough with her last night. That one time, when he’d taken her from behind….
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a weird feeling.”
    “Do you get weird feelings often?”
    A snort. “All the time. But this is—”
    “What?”
    “Different. I-I don’t know.”
    “Are you sure you want to go?”
    She nodded. “I have to go.”
    “You don’t have to go.”
    “I have to. Come on. Let’s get moving.” She pressed past him and wrenched open the door.
    He grabbed his backpack and followed, wondering to heaven above, if he would ever understand her.

 
     
     
Chapter Nine
     
     
    It was a beautiful day. The snow had begun to melt a little, and it was relatively easy following the track down the mountain toward her car. The sun glinted off the drifts, sending glittering trails of color dancing over the landscape. The sky, through the lacy bare branches and evergreens, was clear, bright blue. The air was cold and crisp, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Bo loped along beside them with his uneven gait, pausing to sniff here and there and relieving himself more than should be physically possible.
    As they walked, dragging the sled behind them, they talked and joked. Wade felt Lyssa’s disquiet ease. They held hands as they made their way beneath the canopy, and though they touched through layers of gloves, he felt her warmth.
    Sooner than he expected, he saw her car, a cute little Honda tipped sideways in a ditch and mounded with snow. As she dusted it off, he hunkered down to survey the damage. Yeah. It was going to need his winch.
    Fortunately, the locks weren’t iced over. The trunk opened with the press of a button, and together they unloaded the supplies. He stood in the ditch and pulled out items, handing them to her to arrange on the sled.
    Damn, she’d brought a lot of food.
    “Are you sure we need all of this?”
    She didn’t hesitate. “All of it. That too.” She pointed to a bright red shoebox tied up with strings. He nodded and handed it over. When he slammed the trunk, snow shimmied off the roof and she laughed.
    “Anything else?”
    “My suitcase is in the back seat.”
    He hefted it out and set it on the sled, which by now was rather full, so he had to rearrange things. With a grin, he moved the two slabs of bacon to the top of the pile. “We’ll need that first.”
    She chuckled.
    “Is that it?”
    She nodded and he took up the reins of the sled, whistled to Bo, who scampered back from his exploration—wherever that had been—and they took off toward the house.
    As they trudged along the steep track, Wade marveled at the perfection of the day. The trees were dusted with snow. A few glinted with frost. His breath shushed out in a white cloud. A perfect stillness blanketed them.
    He looked down at Lyssa—her cheeks rosy from exertion, and her eyes glimmering—and he wanted to laugh. From the pure joy of the moment. But he was enjoying the silence and peace, too much to make a sound.
    Besides, what they had didn’t require words.
    He liked that.
    Sam had been a chatterbox, filling every silence with a pithy pronouncement or snarky riposte. He’d loved her sense of humor—when she wasn’t driving him crazy. Lyssa was completely different. Her energy, if one could call it that, was tranquil, serene, as though she had seen the world as it was and greeted it with simple acceptance.
    Sam had wanted a fight every step of the way and craved a challenge.
    He’d loved every minute they were together, but had not