“Need a hand?” She reached for the bag.
He handed it to her with a smile. “Thanks.”
She watched as he unzipped his jacket, showing a gun holster across his chest.
He caught her looking. “Bears.”
“They’re denned up.”
“Probably. But I thought bringing the 10-millimeter made sense.” He flashed a sheepish smile.
Adorable. The word surfaced in her mind before she could stop it. She scowled slightly and buried the thought.
“Bear spray is more effective anyway.” She touched the quilted holster on her hip that held a canister. “Even if you’re a good shot, stopping a charging grizzly with a pistol requires nerve and precision under conditions that don’t favor either one. Spray gives you a wider margin.”
“Good to know.” He didn’t sound defensive. “I’ll add spray to my list for next time.”
She ignored the hopeful tone of his words. “You won’t need it for the race, and you can carry the gun if it makes you comfortable. Just know its limitations.”
He took a few minutes to get his food situated against his torso and added a water bottle to an inside pocket. Shenoticed it was a wide-mouth container, and he inserted it upside down.
At least he knew that much; the trick for keeping water from freezing would be enough tonight since it wasn’t expected to get too cold—upper teens with no wind. She had her water in an insulated holster on her chest harness. Keeping things from freezing was a true challenge.
“All set,” he said.
The road curved gently upward, and she felt the sled’s weight shift with the grade. She adjusted her lean and kept moving. The harness sat well at this load. The new sled tracked true and didn’t pull sideways the way a poorly balanced load would. She’d packed it right.
“What are you thinking about?” Jack asked.
“The sled, how it’s pulling and whether the load distribution is right.”
“Is it?”
“So far.” She rolled her shoulders slightly, feeling for hotspots where the harness might dig in over time. Nothing yet. “Ask me in a few hours.”
He smiled at that. She caught it from the corner of her eye and looked away.
“Ready to increase our speed?” she asked, taking up an easy run.
Jack moved well. Smooth and confident. She supposed it made sense from his hours on skis in all weather, training across elevation and distance and temperature.
The gun made sense, too, seen through that lens. He was comfortable with firearms in ways most recreational runners weren’t. Of course, the biathlon used a rifle and shot at targets. She wasn’t really sure a pistol and a possible bear was the same thing, but she didn’t disagree with his choice.
Steph didn’t hate that he could keep up with her.
She didn’t want to think about what that meant.
“What are your layers for today?” he asked.
She glanced at him. He was genuinely asking, not filling the silence. She recognized the difference.
“Base layer is merino wool. Midlayer is fleece. Outer shell is wind and water resistant but breathable.” She held out her arm so he could see the outer layer’s construction. “I run warm, so I went lighter on the mid layer than I might in harder conditions. If the temperature drops significantly, I have an insulated vest and an insulated top layer I can add, plus an additional base layer and a few miscellaneous items I always have.”
“Where?”
“In my pack on the sled.”
He nodded, filing it away.
