Ben let out a frustrated grunt and dropped his head in his hands.
Clementine wondered if he would notice if she stole the remains of his coffee. He most certainly didn’t need any more caffeine. “Don’t grunt at me. You deserve it. All I did was ask a simple question.”
He took a deep breath and spoke with exaggerated calmness. “I apologize. It’s just the thought of your running around with a loaded gun…you could kill yourself.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about the bears. They can’t hurt you.”
She eyed the stuffed grizzly with suspicion. How the dogs could curl up right underneath it and sleep was beyond her. “Why not?”
“Because it’s winter.” The corners of his lips turned up into that charming lopsided grin of his. Finally. “They’re hibernating.”
“Oh.” Heat settled in Clementine’s cheeks. “I suppose you’re going to take back what you said earlier about how I was starting to sound like a real Alaskan.”
“No, I’ll cut you some slack.” His smile grew a bit wider. “But can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Like she could say no after making an idiot out of herself.
His blue eyes searched hers and he asked, “What brought you here? I know you’re a dog lover and you’re volunteering for the race as part of your job. But they could have sent anybody. I get the feeling this is about more than just work. Why here? Why now?”
“I’m not sure I can explain my reasoning.” Clementine’s throat tightened. It was a loaded question to be sure. “The last time I tried to explain it to a man, he didn’t understand.”
She thought for a moment about the day she’d finally told Mark she couldn’t marry him, that he seemed more like a brother to her than a husband. He didn’t understand that, either. She doubted if he ever would.
“Try me.” Ben’s voice was laced with an unexpected vulnerability that broke down Clementine’s resistance.
“I’ve lived in the same city my whole life. I’ve worked in the same cubicle since I took my job at Nature World over ten years ago. I’ve never taken more than one day of vacation at a time. Until yesterday, I’d never even been on an airplane.” She held her breath and waited for her words to sink in. She fully expected his expression to change to one of shock, or worse, sympathy. She looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the bar, afraid that when she looked back up, he would have that same baffled expression she’d seen on Mark’s face when she’d given him back his ring.
At last she looked up and met Ben’s gaze. She saw no trace of pity there, or judgment. So she continued. “After practically begging for this assignment, my boss finally relented and agreed to send me here last year. When I told my fiancé about it, he was horrified.”
Ben’s gaze flitted ever so briefly to her left hand.
“So I stayed home.” After all this time, it was almost shameful to admit. “Mark and I had grown up next door to one another. We were childhood friends and high school sweethearts. I think when he asked me to marry him, I said yes because it was what everyone expected us to do. It felt comfortable. Safe. It took me a while to realize that marriage…love…isn’t about being safe. I mean, love should be life’s greatest adventure, right?”
Ben’s expression grew pensive and he nodded slowly. “I suppose it should.”
“I have a favorite Bible verse, one that I memorized as a child. John 10:10, ‘I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.’” Clementine’s voice trembled with emotion. “Do you have any idea how many photographs I’ve seen from this race? The dogs always look so happy, so free. That’s what God wants for me. I’m finally going to reach out and take it.”
“So you came to Alaska.” It was a statement, not a question.
A thoughtful silence settled between them. Clementine should have been embarrassed. Surely Ben didn’t need to know her whole life story. He’d probably only been making polite conversation when he’d asked her why she was here. But for some reason, she was glad she’d told him the truth. Even though she thought she detected a flicker of pain in his gaze when she mentioned the Bible.
This had already proven to be a most unusual date anyway. She doubted he would ever ask her for a second one, no matter how she answered his question. Even if he did, she wasn’t sure she would accept.
When he spoke, though, he didn’t seem overwhelmed by her bare honesty. He didn’t look at her like she was nuts, either. “Well, you came to the right place.”
She blinked up at him. “I did?”
“Sure. Alaska has always been a place for people who crave more from life. There’s nowhere else like it on earth. People come here from all over the world, searching for a new beginning. Usually, they find it.” Despite his words of hope, Ben’s features were still tinged with sadness.
Clementine recognized the haunted look in Ben’s crystal-blue eyes. It was one she’d seen looking back at her in her bathroom mirror. A look filled with longing. “Now can I ask you something?”
He gave her a meager smile. “I suppose that’s only fair.”
She chose her words with care. “What about the people who are already here? Where do they go to start over?”
He stared down into his coffee cup. “That’s a good question. I’ll let you know the answer as soon as I figure it out.”
Chapter Four
Ben slept in fits and spent most of the night tangled in his bedsheets. Every time he flipped over or pounded his fist into his pillow, Kodiak sighed and crept closer to the foot of the hotel bed. When Ben at last gave up, propped himself against the headboard and aimed the remote control at the room’s small television, Kodiak hopped off the bed altogether and settled in a ball on the floor.
Ben cast him a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, bud.”
He knew he shouldn’t feel sorry for the husky. Kodiak was a sled dog. Not too many years had passed since he slept outside, on a bed of straw, surrounded by the other members of Ben’s dog team. Ben himself sometimes slept alongside them, wrapped in a thermal sleeping bag.
He’d never been the type of musher to leave his dogs unattended when they were out on the trail.
The television droned in the background, capturing his attention, exactly as he’d hoped it would. He stared at the flickering images of herds of wild musk oxen. With their woolly coats and curved horns, they looked almost prehistoric, even to a lifelong Alaskan like himself.
He’d landed on the hotel’s special Alaskan channel. Designed for tourists, it played a continuous loop of educational programming about the state’s history and wildlife. He supposed it was as good a channel as any. Maybe it would bore him to sleep.
Unlikely, with the thoughts that had kept him awake much of the night still tormenting him. Thoughts very un-Alaskan in nature.
Thoughts of Clementine Phillips.
Specifically, thoughts of her shoes.
She wouldn’t last half a minute as a dog handler in those glorified bedroom slippers. Once she grabbed hold of the gang line and felt the power of the dog team, her feet would slide right out from under her. If she was really intent on her plans—and it looked as though no amount of lecturing on Ben’s part would stop her—he was going to have to do something about those shoes.
Stay out