Wicked in Winter by Jennifer Bernard

Author:Jennifer Bernard [Bernard, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945944581
Publisher: Jennifer Bernard

Chapter Eighteen

When they reached the stream bed at the bottom of the valley, the mature spruce gave way to baby trees barely poking their tops above the snowpack. No trails had been broken down here. No human had ventured this far, at least recently. Virgin snow glistened on the branches of the spruce. A raven croaked overhead, its glossy black wings startling against the snow-heavy sky.

Zander called out, “Whoa,” and they came to a stop and the dogs sat down in the snow, panting and bright-eyed. Gretel gazed around at the low slopes rising on each side of the valley, everything coated with a meringue of snow.

“Ready to go fast?” Zander grinned down at her. Frost clung to the scruff covering his jaw. His hood kept falling back, but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes shone bright, wild with exhilaration. Reddened cheeks, windblown hair—she’d never seen this side of him, as if all his cares and duties had been blown away by the rush of their ride.

“They can go faster?”

“Oh yeah. I was holding back because of all the branches, but down here they can go and go. They love it. They’re just waiting for us to say the word.”

“What’s the word? What are those words you say to them?”

“Hike to run, whoa to stop. Gee to turn right. Haw to turn left. Want to try?” He handed her the reins.

“Really?” Her jaw dropped. “You…trust me that much? You’ve seen how many times I get dumped into the snow.”

Another grin split his face. “I’ll be right here. Nothing will go wrong. I got you.”

And that felt like such a true statement. That was how Zander made her feel, in general. That with him around, things would be okay.

She took the reins and nestled in close to his side. “Hike,” she called to the dogs—but mostly to Fiona. Fiona was in charge here. The dogs knew it and the humans knew it.

“You’re a bad bitch, girl,” she called to her. “Show your stuff.”

This time, the sled didn’t lurch at all. It zoomed across the snow as if gravity had loosened and they were all skimming a few inches above the snow. Joyful laughter spun from her lips, snatched by the wind. She was floating, no, she was flying. The cold air rushed past her face, and sang in her ears. It was a wild cry, the voice of the wilderness calling her like a siren.

Zander kept her anchored with his strong arms and steady presence. With the reassurance of his nearness, she let the dogs go at the speed they were craving. She felt their joy course through the reins and into her own bloodstream. This is life. This is it. Right here.

Eventually, Zander nudged her to bring them into a slowdown. They came to a stop in a clearing dotted with moose tracks. Some of the dogs pranced in place, some plopped their butts down in the snow. Spruce trees weighted with snow seemed to nod at them from both sides.

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