extended, did you?”
“No. I had sense enough to tuck my elbow in, but I did land on it. It’s really nothing. I’m all right and so is Midnight, but both of us will ache for a day or two.”
“If you’re sure it’s nothing…” She was cutting a little close to the bone, and he could not help shutting the door on the subject.
“I assure you, there’s nothing wrong. I’m a bit sore here and there, but it’s nothing to bother Doctor MacBride with.” His tone suddenly became as cold as the winter evening. He went into full guarded mode, unwilling to risk another cold rejection.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant. I didn’t mean to pry, really.” She looked down as though properly chastened. Then she turned her eyes to his face and gave him a melting smile. “It’s only that I’m concerned for you.” The latter was obviously designed to disarm his hostility. It worked beautifully. His face and his heart both softened immediately.
“Please excuse me. I didn’t mean to be brusque. I…I’m not exactly at my best right now.”
“Then why don’t we sit out this dance? I could use a few minutes next to the fire.”
To turn beside her he pivoted on the tip of his left skate, the quick, ungraceful move of an ingrained hockey player.
“I’d be glad to accompany you, but why are you smiling like that?”
“Your hockey turn just now. It wasn’t pretty, not at all like the way you were skating when we danced.”
He smiled crookedly. “When you’re chasing the puck down through a line of defenders who’d just as soon rip your head off as look at you, pretty is the last thing you think about.” He gave her his arm, and she let him escort her off the pond. They both paused, politely allowing one another a balancing arm as they put on blade guards. Then they made a cautious way to one of the logs, long ago roughed into benches, about the bonfire. She sat down, and he sat only close enough to her to be polite.
“So you played hockey at university?”
“Royal Dominion in Ottawa. Right Forward. I was captain for two years. Our last season went undefeated.”
“My, what an achievement! Do you ever miss it?”
“Sometimes. But I like my work, and I have a lot of friends here.” The arrival of Nora Redfield with a chilled and tired Alice forced Shane to move a little closer to Jenny. The silver fur of his flashy parka brushed her sleeve. She slipped her right hand out of her glove and touched it.
“What is your parka made of? It’s absolutely beautiful, especially the beadwork.”
“It’s wolf, lined with lynx, and the hood trim is wolverine fur because it doesn’t frost over with the moisture from your breath. The beadwork is a modern thing. They used to use dyed feather quills pounded flat, but the dyes bleed when they get wet, and beads are both more sturdy and more colorful.” His parka had bright geometrically patterned bands, perhaps two inches wide, down the center of the back, around the neck, and down both sides of the front storm closure, where it turned in an arc and went around a few inches above the bottom hem. An identical band ran over the top of each shoulder and down the outsides of the sleeves, meeting the strips around the neck and cuffs. The corners had been rounded out with big, curving swirls of bright primary colors.
“It’s spectacular.”
“Thank you. Someone up in North Village made it for me. It’s actually warmer than my bear furs, but the beadwork is somewhat delicate, so I don’t wear it in the woods.”
“Would you show me the lynx fur?” Obligingly he turned the bottom of the storm closure back, revealing the soft, stipply tan lining. She touched it with the backs of her fingers. “It’s so soft.”
“It is. Rabbit is actually softer and warmer, but it sheds. I had a parka lined with rabbit once. I gave it away because whenever I wore it my Red Serge came out grey, and it would take me half a day with a wet cloth to get the hair off.”
“I understand why
“No. I had sense enough to tuck my elbow in, but I did land on it. It’s really nothing. I’m all right and so is Midnight, but both of us will ache for a day or two.”
“If you’re sure it’s nothing…” She was cutting a little close to the bone, and he could not help shutting the door on the subject.
“I assure you, there’s nothing wrong. I’m a bit sore here and there, but it’s nothing to bother Doctor MacBride with.” His tone suddenly became as cold as the winter evening. He went into full guarded mode, unwilling to risk another cold rejection.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant. I didn’t mean to pry, really.” She looked down as though properly chastened. Then she turned her eyes to his face and gave him a melting smile. “It’s only that I’m concerned for you.” The latter was obviously designed to disarm his hostility. It worked beautifully. His face and his heart both softened immediately.
“Please excuse me. I didn’t mean to be brusque. I…I’m not exactly at my best right now.”
“Then why don’t we sit out this dance? I could use a few minutes next to the fire.”
To turn beside her he pivoted on the tip of his left skate, the quick, ungraceful move of an ingrained hockey player.
“I’d be glad to accompany you, but why are you smiling like that?”
“Your hockey turn just now. It wasn’t pretty, not at all like the way you were skating when we danced.”
He smiled crookedly. “When you’re chasing the puck down through a line of defenders who’d just as soon rip your head off as look at you, pretty is the last thing you think about.” He gave her his arm, and she let him escort her off the pond. They both paused, politely allowing one another a balancing arm as they put on blade guards. Then they made a cautious way to one of the logs, long ago roughed into benches, about the bonfire. She sat down, and he sat only close enough to her to be polite.
“So you played hockey at university?”
“Royal Dominion in Ottawa. Right Forward. I was captain for two years. Our last season went undefeated.”
“My, what an achievement! Do you ever miss it?”
“Sometimes. But I like my work, and I have a lot of friends here.” The arrival of Nora Redfield with a chilled and tired Alice forced Shane to move a little closer to Jenny. The silver fur of his flashy parka brushed her sleeve. She slipped her right hand out of her glove and touched it.
“What is your parka made of? It’s absolutely beautiful, especially the beadwork.”
“It’s wolf, lined with lynx, and the hood trim is wolverine fur because it doesn’t frost over with the moisture from your breath. The beadwork is a modern thing. They used to use dyed feather quills pounded flat, but the dyes bleed when they get wet, and beads are both more sturdy and more colorful.” His parka had bright geometrically patterned bands, perhaps two inches wide, down the center of the back, around the neck, and down both sides of the front storm closure, where it turned in an arc and went around a few inches above the bottom hem. An identical band ran over the top of each shoulder and down the outsides of the sleeves, meeting the strips around the neck and cuffs. The corners had been rounded out with big, curving swirls of bright primary colors.
“It’s spectacular.”
“Thank you. Someone up in North Village made it for me. It’s actually warmer than my bear furs, but the beadwork is somewhat delicate, so I don’t wear it in the woods.”
“Would you show me the lynx fur?” Obligingly he turned the bottom of the storm closure back, revealing the soft, stipply tan lining. She touched it with the backs of her fingers. “It’s so soft.”
“It is. Rabbit is actually softer and warmer, but it sheds. I had a parka lined with rabbit once. I gave it away because whenever I wore it my Red Serge came out grey, and it would take me half a day with a wet cloth to get the hair off.”
“I understand why
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