“You’re shaking. Jilly, can you hear me?”
She hated that he was right. “I’m just a—a little dizzy. Maybe it’s altitude. Or something.”
“Hydration,” he said flatly. A water bottle met her fingers. “Drink it all.”
Winslow whimpered and sidled up beside her, offering his body for her to lean against. Still shaky, Jilly was glad to accept the support and the water. As she drank, she focused on Walker and realized that he looked concerned.
Really concerned.
Did she look that bad?
She tried to be casual. “I forgot to buy water in Denver. I had to run after a gate change.” Her throat was dry and the water felt like heaven. She finished drinking and ran a hand over her face, glad when the shaky feeling in her legs began to fade. “That’s better. Thanks.”
“Elevation can hit you hard. We’re not so high as Telluride or Jackson, but it’s high enough. Drink more water for the next few days. Don’t overexert yourself.” His fingers slid over her wrist and he focused on the big wall clock, watching numbers flicker by.
He seemed to know what he was doing, so Jilly closed her eyes and tried to relax, taking another deep breath.
“We’re only at 4,500 feet here, but the resort is another thousand feet up. Get acclimated slowly. No alcohol, whatever you do.” He continued to watch the clock. “You look okay, BP wise. A little high, but nothing crucial.” His voice was cool and soothing.
“Say that again.”
“Blood pressure. I’ve spent a lot of time at altitude and I know standard alpine medicine protocol. Do you have a history of heart problems? Asthma or emphysema?”
She looked away, frowning. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to discuss her health with this aloof stranger whose eyes saw too much. “I feel a lot better now. But I drank all your water.”
“Not a problem. I always carry a spare. I can get that one, too, if you think you need it.”
She flushed at his simple generosity. “No, but thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Winslow bumped at her hand and gave a short bark.
“Hey, Win. Let her catch her breath.”
“He’s no bother. Are you, sweetie? You’re just perfect.” Jilly scratched the dog’s head, wondering if she’d missed something. But no, she’d passed two exercise tests before leaving the hospital in Arizona. The heart halter she’d worn for a week had come up clean. This had to be a case of simple dehydration and the stress of travel. She did recall her doctor saying she should watch for signs of labored breathing and keep her exercise level low. He had warned her against going above 8,000 feet. But she would be fine here in Lost Creek.
When she got to the resort, she would reread all her medical instructions, which were stored safely in her bag. Since her blood pressure was fine, she wasn’t going to worry. Too bad that her plans for a nice latte and a glass of Merlot would have to go on hold.
She stood up slowly, relieved when her dizziness did not return. “I guess the traveling caught up with me. I’d better go grab that taxi. Apparently you don’t have a lot of choices for transportation in this town.”
Winslow bumped against her leg, whining.
“My dog sure does like you.” Walker sounded bemused. “I don’t understand it.”
“Wait a minute.” Jilly gave a sudden laugh and slid a hand into the pocket of her sweater. She pushed past a half-eaten bag of nuts until she felt a sealed plastic bag. “Bingo. All is illuminated.” With a flourish she held out a big piece of wrapped beef jerky, which she’d forgotten in the rush to leave. Her own dog, a snowy-white Samoyed, loved jerky, especially her homemade treats.
Jilly felt a pang of regret, but she knew that Duffy would be happy at Grace’s house on Summer Island, where he was boarding until Jilly’s return.
What could compare with the love in an animal’s eyes or the flow of warm fur beneath your fingers? What was better than the dance of pure excitement a pet gave to welcome you when you walked in the door?
Not even a fine, single variety dark chocolate could match it.
“Jerky. That would explain it.” Walker scratched the dog’s head. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ve got a week’s worth of jerky stowed in my duffel. We’ll get right on that.”
And then Jilly saw it again, the open, loving warmth that softened the man’s eyes. He loved this dog and he didn’t care who knew it. They were a real team.
And wasn’t it pathetic that Jilly felt jealous of a dog?
She held out the bag of jerky. “This is on me. I don’t need them. My Samoyed is back home.”
“A Samoyed? Smart breed. Great temperament.”
“That’s my Duffy for sure.”
“Miss him, do you?”
Jilly gave a rueful smile. “Terribly and I’ve only been gone part of a day. But I don’t think he’s giving me a second thought. He’s probably running on the beach with his pals right now back in Oregon.”
“Sounds like dog heaven. Winslow and I don’t get to the ocean enough, do we?” Walker scratched his lab under his chin. “Thanks for the jerky.” He gave a small piece to the dog, who gobbled it eagerly.
Jilly saw the attendant wave at her and point outside, where the taxi driver was standing up, talking on a cell phone. “I’d better go. Nice to meet you, Mr. Hale.”
“Walker.” He reached around her. “Let me get this for you.” He scooped up her suitcase before she could react. “You’ve got the tote to carry. Winslow, sit.”
Jilly watched the dog move over, sitting while Walker clipped on his leash to lead him outside. She didn’t speak as they walked out to the cab. Something about the whole incident made her tongue-tied.
“Have a safe trip, ma’am. Say goodbye, Win.”
At the drawled command, the big dog held out one paw. Jilly shook it and then scratched the soft head. “Drop by the resort if you want a food sampling. I make a killer chocolate mousse.” She slanted a look at Walker and frowned. There was something very intriguing about all that distance and cool control. Even now he gave nothing away. And the more he hid … the more Jilly wanted to pry out of him.
“Do you live in town?”
“Nope,” Walker murmured. With a nod to the taxi driver he stowed her bag in the trunk.
After a moment Jilly slid inside. “Somewhere nearby then?”
“Nope.” He closed her door, gave a two-finger wave and tapped on the hood. “Enjoy the resort, ma’am.”
As the taxi drove away, he stood motionless, one hand on Winslow’s head.
Jilly wondered why he had avoided both of her questions. It didn’t feel like rudeness. More like habit. And there was a definite story here. Piecing it together would help her fill the time over the next ten days. Besides, that dog of his was special. Too smart and well trained to be a simple pet.
Nothing wrong with a pet, of course. But Jilly O’Hara recognized a trained service dog when she saw one.
And what did that make Walker Hale?
“PRETTY LADY, WIN. Nice eyes. A little high-strung though.”
The big brown lab watched the taxi vanish over the hill, then turned to look expectantly at his owner.
“What do you think?”
Winslow raised his head and gave a low howl that rose and fell like wolfsong.
“So