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“Yeah, I got it.” She didn’t like it, but Jeremiah’s statement made sense even if the idea of giving up more personal information, however superficial, made her squirm. But she had to admit, having a boss who actually cared about things wasn’t entirely bad. “You’re a good guy, Jeremiah Burke,” she decided with an irritated sigh. “Things would’ve been a lot easier if you’d been a total ass. And ugly.”
She was pleased when he simply acknowledged her grudging compliment with a slight head nod. If he’d mucked up the sentiment with more words, it would’ve ruined the good feeling she had about him. And she was glad that he hadn’t.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JEREMIAH WAS NO STRANGER to a beautiful landscape but the Alaskan wilderness took his breath away. Nearly literally.
He shrugged and shifted in his down jacket, shuddering as the cold jarred his bones, reminding him with an icy touch that he wasn’t as young as he used to be. An old skiing injury always flared up in the winter, aching and protesting when the temperature dropped, just like it was now. Miranda caught his subtle wince as they climbed the trail winding deeper into the Kenai Mountains and stopped with a frown. “You okay? If you aren’t up to this, we can turn around.”
“I’m fine,” he answered, determined to keep going. He didn’t want Miranda to see him as a weak desk monkey, though he knew it shouldn’t matter what she thought of his masculinity. He gritted his teeth and ignored the dull pain throbbing in his knee. “Show me the way. I’m right behind you.”
“If you say so, but the trail gets pretty rough up ahead,” she warned as she turned and kept trudging along the trail that was clogged with deep foliage and ruts caused by snow runoff. The bite in the air smelled sharp and clean even if it cut through his bones. He probably should’ve picked a warmer clime—like Arizona or Nevada—but if anything said “you’re old and can’t take it” faster than a move to Arizona, Jeremiah didn’t know. Besides, he hated the extreme heat even more than he hated the idea of being thought of as a soft-handed desk monkey.
They came to a ridge overlooking a meadow that bumped up against the edge of a lake, and the beauty filled him with joy. “Pretty as a postcard,” he murmured in appreciation. “This is definitely God’s country.”
“Yeah, nothing is better than Alaskan wilderness to remind us just how small we really are.” She drew a deep breath. “I’d match up the glory of Alaska to any place in the United States.”
“You love Alaska.”
“I do,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know why—by all rights, I ought to hate this place—but I can’t imagine my life anywhere but here. Guess I have Alaskan ice flowing through my veins.”
“You couldn’t pick a more scenic place to call home,” he said. “It’s no small tragedy to wake up to this every day.” She smiled and agreed. A moment stretched between them and Jeremiah wondered if he ought to ask about her cryptic comment about her past but he sensed she wouldn’t share and so banked his curiosity for the time being. “Are we close to the spot where the first bear was found?”
“Yes, just around this bend in the trail and up about a mile into the trees.” She sent him a short smile. “Think you can handle it?”
“Of course I can.”
“Don’t feel bad if you’re not accustomed to this much physical activity. Most administrators never leave the comfort of their office.”
“Thank you for your concern but I stay pretty active. My stamina is just fine,” he said, hoping with an almost-wicked grin that she recalled in vivid detail how he’d propped her against the wall without issue, without once wincing at the strain. Her cheeks colored prettily and he knew his wish had been granted. His grin widened just a tiny bit and she firmed her mouth, eyes flashing, before turning on her heel and quickening her pace. Yeah, she definitely remembered. Was he a bad person for delighting privately in that knowledge? Maybe a little...but it was worth it.
Miranda stopped at a copse of dense trees that spiraled into the frigid sky and pointed unerringly at a spot that otherwise appeared the same as the spot of dirt beside it, but it was as if Miranda could still see the blood splatter from the mutilated bear. “I’m not sure what upsets me more, the cruelty or the disrespect.”
“Disrespect?”
“Yes, disrespect. The indigenous people believe that when a bear gave up its life to sustain another, it was the ultimate sacrifice and deserving of gratitude. Poachers don’t give a damn about the bear, just the cash it represents. The greed sickens me.” Her voice rang with passion and he knew that until these poachers were caught she’d bear the weight of their actions as some kind of punishment.
