Page 96 of Beastly Mountain Man

Caprice leaned against the open driver’s door while I finished.

“I know you know this, but I need to say it once anyway. I’m perfectly comfortable driving normal winter roads. I’m not going to decide halfway to Missoula that the Audi and I should explore an unplowed logging trail together, and if conditions change, I’ll stop somewhere sensible.”

“I know. I’m concerned because I care where you end up. That doesn’t mean I think you’ve forgotten how roads work.”

She studied me. “You’re doing a very good job of not turning concern into a lecture.”

Her expression softened.

“That distinction is one of the things I’m going to miss about you.”

We went back inside for the bags.

Bear became more interested with every trip toward the door. He followed the suitcase, returned for Caprice, followed the work bag, then came back and pressed his shoulder against her knees while she zipped her coat.

Caprice bent and rubbed his ears.

“I know. This is terrible. Someone is going to have to throw your rope after I leave, and unfortunately the man you live with has shown very little commitment to indulging you.”

“I throw the rope.”

“Not enough.”

Bear’s tail swept across the entry mat.

“You’ve formed an alliance,” I said.

“We have shared interests.”

“Mostly you.”

“That’s still an interest.”

She kissed the top of Bear’s head and stood.

I picked up the insulated tote I’d packed while she was changing her boots.

Caprice watched me carry it toward the door. “How much food is in there?”

“Enough for the drive. There’s water, coffee, fruit, nuts, and a sandwich.”

“A sandwich? I know how to buy lunch.”

“I know you do. You’ll be driving through lunch.”

She took the tote from me and opened it anyway.

Inside were the travel mug, two bottles of water, an apple, a pear, a small bag of nuts, and the sandwich I’d wrapped before breakfast.

Caprice looked at the contents, then at me.

“You made me lunch while I was packing.”

“I made a sandwich.”

“That is lunch. Thank you.”

Her voice had softened enough that I stopped looking for humor in the exchange.