Damn it.
He silenced himself quickly, glancing over to see if she’d noticed.
It didn’t seem as though she had. She was still gazing out that window. She didn’t seem to mind that snowball in the face either.
She was so quiet.
What is she thinking?
The quiet had to have something to do with why she’d resisted sayingyes. He knew she’d wanted to come, but something was holding her back. What? Was it because they were teammates? It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about that.
I’m still thinking about it.
What will this look like when racing starts up again?
But it was more than that with her. There was something else. He could tell.
That scar. Is it that scar?
When I touched it, she turned into a block of ice.
He could literally feel her slip away at that moment.
They were approaching the turnoff onto the small country road that led directly to the village. Before they got to it, he swerved right, pulling off to the side.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he parked the car.
They were surrounded by trees. The mountains loomed, looking much closer now, and a creek threaded its way through the greenery.
“We have to walk the rest of the way,” he said before getting out of the car.
The walk will be good. For her. And for me.
If it didn’t manage to get his crankshaft to lie down, at least it would make it less squirrelly.
“How far?” she asked once she was out of the car.
“About five miles or so,” he said, opening the trunk.
“What?!”
“It’s the only way to get there.”
He was glad he had an empty backpack in the trunk. He grabbed some stuff from his suitcase and tossed the items in.
“Okay,” he said, “now you.”
She sighed, pulling some things out and putting them in the backpack.
She pulled out a large T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats.
More sweats?
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Sleeping,” she said, stuffing it in the backpack.
“Where’s the thing you were wearing this morning?”
