by Donna Alward
Jerry offered to take a picture of the two of them together, so he handed over the camera and they took a couple of pictures: one kneeling down with a couple of the blue-eyed dogs, and another with the mountains behind them. By then it was time to get back in the sled and head back to base.
Delly felt chilled, so he cuddled her close inside the sled bag. When they reached the main yard, Jerry sent them off with good wishes and told them to enjoy the fire and refreshments.
There was hot cider and cinnamon buns waiting for them, and they sat around the fire and enjoyed. But something else was rising between them now, too. Not a goodbye, like the other night might have been. But a new start. Not just forgiveness, but a moving forward. The two of them, together.
It was time he faced the fact that he’d never gotten over her. And the new revelation that he didn’t want to.
Considering he only had a few more days left of his vacation, it meant he only had about forty-eight hours to convince her they were worth fighting for.
There wasn’t a moment to lose.
* * *
Adele couldn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach. They’d been there from the moment Dan had curled his strong arms around her in the sled and hadn’t let up, even though their afternoon was done. They’d finished the ride, thoroughly exhilarated, and she’d felt him watching her as they drank mulled cider and munched on sweets. Now, though, it was time to go home. The afternoon was over. And she was wondering what was next. If there was anything. Was she misreading his signals? Were they a product of her own wishful thinking?
They were almost to her car when he came around to the driver’s side and took her hand. “Delly, have dinner with me. This has been too great a day for it to end already.”
Her heart warmed at his words. “Really?”
“Really.” His body was close to hers, close enough she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. “Let’s have a real dinner, something special. Not a quick sandwich or an après-ski at your house. Something decadent and...”
Her throat tightened with nerves as she asked, “Are you talking about a date, Dan?”
His hand covered hers on the door handle of her car. “Yes, I am. A date. Does that mean you’re going to say no?”
She should. She should tell him with no ambiguity that they absolutely could not go on a date. But then, what was this afternoon if not a date? Just because it was outside didn’t make it an un-date.
When she didn’t answer right away, he squeezed her fingers. “Go home, get dressed up. We can do this right.”
“Dan, I—”
“Don’t say no. It’s Friday. I leave Sunday night. We have so little time. Let me treat you to dinner, with candles and wine and music and just...”
“And just what?” Her heart pounded, afraid of what he was suggesting, wanting it more than was wise. If they both knew that he was leaving in two days, no one would get the wrong idea, would they? Couldn’t they enjoy these few moments? Hadn’t they earned it?
“I don’t know. I don’t have any expectations. I’m not looking further ahead than tonight, okay? I’m asking for one simple date, with no weddings to fret over or secrets to reveal. Just you and me.”
“Okay.” She answered quickly, surprising herself.
“Really?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ll drop you off, go home and change, and meet you...wherever. Text me the location and I’ll be there.”
Her eyes met his. She was surprised at the fire flickering in the brown depths.
“Good.” He pulled his fingers from hers. “Then let’s get going.”
She unlocked the car and got inside, nerves still jumbling around as he got in beside her and whipped out his phone. She smiled to herself as they headed back toward Banff, the highway clear and traffic moderate during the weekend rush hour. Her face felt hot to the touch; she wasn’t sure if she was blushing or if the wind had chapped her cheeks. Regardless, anticipation curled inside her as she wondered what the night would bring.
The drive seemed to take no time at all and she dropped him back at the hotel. By the time she got home, got inside and fed Mr. Num-Nums, she had the text with the restaurant name and time. He’d been able to get a seven o’clock reservation and they were going to eat fondue at a neighboring resort.
She smiled to herself. While she’d organized dinners at this location, she’d never actually eaten there herself, though she’d wanted to. It was bound to be a leisurely meal, nestled away near the river and the golf course, private and romantic. She jumped in the shower and scrubbed away the dog smell and the hat hair, and then let her hair air-dry as she picked out her dress and started her makeup.
At six forty-five a taxi pulled up outside and she buttoned up her coat and wondered, for the millionth time, if she should have worn shoes instead of boots. But she loved her knee boots with the skinny heels, and thought they suited the black sweater dress that hugged her curves and had a deep scoop neckline that hinted at the tiniest bit of cleavage. A long necklace took away the bareness, and she’d decided to put her hair up in a messy arrangement that she hoped looked sexy and rumpled. She’d gone for a dramatic eye with painstakingly applied liner, but an understated lip.
She’d dressed for a date—something she hadn’t done for many, many months. And never with quite as much care as tonight.
Because Dan mattered. More than she wanted to admit, but there it was.
He was waiting for her at the restaurant, standing just inside, and she caught her breath.
She wasn’t the only one who’d dressed for the date. He wore a charcoal-gray suit, perfectly fitted, with a black dress shirt and no tie. She loved that little detail about him—that he kept that top-shirt button carelessly undone. It left the hollow of his neck exposed and she wondered if she’d have the opportunity to kiss it later.
“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, reaching for her coat.
“So do you,” she replied, and decided it was true. He was beautiful. Who said that word had to be reserved for females only?
They were led to their table. She wondered if he’d somehow managed to sweet-talk them into a corner table because the room was fairly full.
He waited until she was seated, and then took his chair. The room had low lighting, with flickering tea candles adding ambience to each table. They were provided with a menu and asked for a drink order.
“White?” Dan asked. “To start?”
She nodded. “Maybe a Riesling would be lovely.”
When the waiter was gone, she let her gaze touch Dan’s. “This is so nice. I’ve never eaten here. Always wanted to, though. It’s a favorite for pre-wedding dinners.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. This is your home turf, and I wanted tonight to be special.”
“It is...whether I’d been here before or not.”
The waiter came back with their wine and poured a little in her glass for her to taste. The smooth, slightly tart flavor was perfect, and she nodded and put her glass back down so he could fill it.
“Do you want to do the dinner with pairings?” Dan asked. “It has cheese and chocolate fondue with a schnitzel course in between.”
“That sounds amazing.”
They handed back their menus, and when the waiter was gone, Dan raised his glass.
“Cheers,” he said simply, touching the rim of his glass to hers. She was glad there was no big toast tonight. She wanted to keep it simple.
“This is delicious. And could be a bit dangerous with pairings. I’ll have to pace myself.”
He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. “You could always stay over with me.”
She simply stared, unsure of what to say, startled by the sudden increase of sexual tension between them. He chuckled, sending her a wink. “Don’t panic. I can sleep on the sofa again.”
She held his gaze for a moment, an
d then said softly, “I’m not sure you’d have to.”
The twinkle faded from his eyes, replaced by a smoldering fire that said she wasn’t alone in her feelings. She did want to be with him again. The kiss the other night had started it, but today, being held close in his arms in the sled...it had felt so right.
“Are we starting something here, Delly? And I don’t mean a fling for a few days, but really starting something. Do you want to try again?”
Her chest cramped at the sincerity in his words. It wasn’t just the attraction that hadn’t gone away. She cared for him so much. Always had. He might have hated her for a while, but she hadn’t really stopped loving him. She’d let him go because she’d loved him, not because she’d stopped. And maybe they needed to talk about that.
Their starter salads were discreetly delivered, and yet neither of them picked up their forks. Instead Dan waited for her answer, and she tried to figure out how to phrase what she needed to say.
“Dan, I...” She pursed her lips, but then decided to just be honest and let the words come. “I never left you because I’d stopped caring about you. The only thing that kept me from running back to you was the thought that I’d done you a favor by setting you free. It seemed so unfair to make you a victim to...to my illness. But it was never because I didn’t love you. And I’m starting to think that maybe I never really stopped.”
Other diners chatted and ate all around them, with the tinkling of silverware and porcelain and murmured voices. But Adele felt as if she and Dan were in their own little bubble where time stood still for just a few moments as he absorbed her words.
He reached across the table and took her fingers in his. “You broke my heart,” he admitted softly. “And you broke my trust, Delly. But I never really got over you, either.”
The cramp was still centered in her chest, a confusing combination of anticipation and fear. Where would all this lead? Was she ready for it? Was he? Because nothing had changed. Not really.
“I can see your mind working,” he said, laughing a little and dispelling a bit of the tension. “We don’t have to have all the answers now, Del. Let’s leave it at you care about me, and I care about you, and we’ll take this one day at a time. One hour at a time, if we need to.”
It was good advice. It was the kind of advice she’d been given during her treatment. But could she really let go of her reservations and just be with him? Was that realistic, considering the circumstances? She wanted it to be, and maybe that was enough.
“That sounds good,” she murmured, picking up her fork. “In the moment.”
He picked up his fork, too. “And in this moment, we’re together, having a wonderful dinner, and you look beautiful, and I intend to enjoy every minute.”
“Me, too.”
They were still holding hands, and he rubbed his thumb over the top of hers before letting go and sitting back, preparing to eat. They nibbled on salad and sipped their wine, and then took their time with the cheese fondue, smothering cubes of baguette with the rich, gooey blend. When the next course came, Adele was already starting to feel full, so she picked at the spätzle and took her time savoring small bites of the tender jaeger schnitzel. Through it all they talked about lighter things, leaving the question of their relationship to the side.
Dan was just as entertaining as he’d always been, and she got a warm feeling deep inside when he talked about his family. He was especially close to Drew, even though they didn’t see each other often with Drew traveling so much. But his stories about their antics when they were together—including the time they came face-to-face with a black bear while hiking—kept her laughing.
The evening was waning and their plates were cleared when the chocolate fondue was brought out, with a platter of fruit, cubes of banana bread and soft marshmallow.
“What about your mom, Del?” Dan changed the subject as Adele prepared to dip a strawberry in the smooth melted chocolate.
The simple question changed the mood, and Adele looked up at him as she swirled the strawberry a bit, letting the excess chocolate drip off. “I don’t see her much. She’s still doing her own thing. It’s not that we don’t get along, exactly.” She took a bite of the strawberry and pondered. “It’s more...we don’t know each other. We never have. We call each other now and again, but it’s hard to know what to talk about. I haven’t seen her in three years, when I went home for a week.”
“She hasn’t come out here?”
Adele shook her head. “She said she doesn’t like to fly. I’m not sure I believe her. I think she’s just...well, in a rut. She’s been this way for so long, I think she simply can’t comprehend change.”
“I’m really sorry. I know your relationship with her was always a bit distant.”
Adele nodded and looked down at her plate. “Truth is, she wasn’t around a whole lot when I was sick, either. She came right after my surgery and stayed a week, and then I was on my own again.”
Dan’s face darkened with anger. “I can’t believe she wasn’t there for you. She’s your mother, for God’s sake.”
Adele smiled thinly. “Don’t blame her too much. I told her she couldn’t take a bunch of time off work and I’d be fine. Neither one of us has pushed really hard to have a relationship. I’m partly to blame.”
Adele wondered if her infertility had hindered that, too. Not just because she’d never give her mom any grandchildren, but because she’d isolated herself from everyone, not just Dan. She hadn’t trusted them to be there for her, so she’d bailed before they had a chance to.
She’d been reaching for a piece of marshmallow when she paused, her hand poised above the platter. She lifted her gaze and looked at Dan, so handsome in the candlelight. So...forgiving. Was he really ready to try again? After she’d hurt him so much?
She lowered her hand and looked into his eyes.
“I didn’t think I’d be enough,” she whispered, not trusting herself to speak any louder. “I wasn’t enough to keep my dad from leaving my mom. I wasn’t enough for my mom, either. I was always a...a burden. I was terrified I’d be a burden to you, too. And definitely not enough.” She swallowed against a few tears that had formed, clogging her throat. “When I found out I couldn’t have children... I knew it. I couldn’t bear the thought of giving all of myself to you—what was left of me—and having it handed back. But I was wrong, Dan. I didn’t trust you, and I should have.”
His eyes were suspiciously shiny as he answered, “Yes, you should have. Because I was ready to be in it for the long haul.”
They left the rest of the fondue; she was full anyway. Dan paid the check and retrieved her coat. “Do you want to walk back to the hotel?”
She had on boots and her warm coat, and it was a clear winter’s night. “Let’s walk to the falls. I’ve never seen it in the dark.”
“If you want to.”
She smiled. “It’ll give me a chance to walk off dinner.”
And the opportunity to have more time before deciding what to do.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ONCE OUTSIDE, SHE slid her gloved hand into his. The night was still and silent; not even the cars on the highway were audible. The moon watched from overhead, not quite full, and the sky was full of stars. They ambled down the narrow road to the parking lot of Bow Falls, the rush of water now a dull shushing sound as they got closer. Adele’s toes were a little cold, but she would warm them up later. Right now she was going to enjoy the moment.
The falls was a hulking gray arc of ice in the dark, thanks to the moonlight, while the water at the bottom was open and inky-black. “In the summer,” Adele said quietly, pointing, “white water rafters leave from just there, below the falls. When the melt is on, there’s a lot of water.”
“I bet it sees a lot of tourists.”
She smiled up at him. “The whole town does. You should be here in the summer.”
&nb
sp; And then she realized that he wouldn’t be. He’d be back in Toronto, and she’d be here. Her business was here. She had clients booked for the next year. And that day-by-day thing sounded great, except for the logistics of it. As in, half a country away from each other.
How was that even possible to consider?
“You got quiet all of a sudden,” Dan said. He tugged on her hand and pulled her close. They’d walked through the parking lot and closer to the stone wall near the falls. Now he guided her to a nearby tree, and they leaned against the trunk, beneath the naked branches.
“Just thinking,” she replied, holding his hand tightly. It seemed like if she let go, he’d be gone forever, and she wasn’t ready for that to happen yet. One more day. Just one, and a handful of hours, and he was going to Calgary. It was a fact that couldn’t be ignored, even if they were trying their best.
“Thinking is highly overrated.” Dan shifted so he was in front of her, his body sheltering her from the wind. Her back was against the tree trunk, and she lifted her chin the slightest bit.
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he said, and then dipped his head to kiss her.
He took his time. They sipped, tasted, savored. He braced his hands against the tree and she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close as the kiss deepened. She didn’t want to let him go. Not ever. But the time was going to come when they couldn’t play vacation anymore. And when that happened, they would have to deal with the harsh reality that they’d built separate lives that couldn’t just be dismissed in an instant.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered against her hair, and she wanted to cry. She wouldn’t, though. Not now. Now she was going to hold on as tightly as she could.
“Me either,” she answered, breathless. “I tried. I lied to myself and said I didn’t love you anymore. But I never stopped, Dan. Never.”
His body pressed against hers, pinning her against the tree, and it felt glorious. “Come back with me,” he urged, the words soft and persuasive. “Spend the night with me, Delly. Let me love you again.”
