Chapter 7
K reston
Next was a walking tour of Polar Creek’s Christmas traditions. Kreston led Sadie past the snow-laden spruce to a display of ice sculptures carved with chainsaws. He pointed out a raven plucking a blueberry, a bear with paws in the air, and two leaping salmon, side by side, all carved from blocks of ice.
They passed several houses with the same plastic Santas and reindeer in the yards and on rooftops. Kreston explained how Home Depot had ordered too much holiday inventory in Anchorage last year, so the day after Christmas, Kreston bought two dozen at seventy-five percent off. He and Lucky flew to Anchorage and stuffed their planes with decorations and flew them back to Polar Creek.
Every door displayed a wreath made by a different family, and strings of lights created a canopy over the street, glowing softly under the snowfall, adding to the festive atmosphere. He was proud to show her his town.
Kreston saw an endearing side of Sadie, but he had to work like a dog to make her comfortable enough to show it. Each smile felt like a hard-won victory to gain her trust. Sadie reminded Kreston of trying to hold the Aurora Borealis in his hand, the way she dodged and weaved around his questions. When she let down her guard, she was impossible to pin down. Her emotional defenses were as impenetrable as the Alaska Range, shielding her heart with an icy layer of permafrost.
He’d spent a great deal of time navigating treacherous weather and tricky landings—he knew patience and a cool head could overcome any obstacle. He considered it a challenge to see what lay beneath Sadie’s protective layers, and there was no time like the present.
What the heck? I’m a risk-taker.
“I need to check on my dog team. Want to meet them? They’re running in tomorrow’s race.” He motioned toward his truck, parked in its usual spot in front of the Polar Creek Hotel.
Surprisingly, Sadie lit up like a Christmas tree. “You have sled dogs?”
“Seven of ‘em.” They climbed into his truck, and he drove about a mile out of town. He pulled up in front of his spacious two-story log home.
“This is your home? It’s beautiful,” breathed Sadie, seriously checking it out. “Did you build this?”
“With the help of Polar Creek.” He liked his easier rapport with Sadie, like finding solid ground after an earthquake.
“Come see my team. They’re back here on the dog lot.” As he expected, the cacophony of excited barking and howling of his seven Alaskan huskies welcomed them.
The dogs jumped down from the top of their doghouses, greeting them with enthusiastic yips and wagging tails. Sadie kneeled to accept their kisses. The largest male, with black-and-white facial markings, pushed to the front of the pack. He lifted a paw and howled hello.
“This is Denali,” Kreston said fondly, scratching the dog’s ears. “He’s my new lead dog.”
“What happened to your old lead dog?” asked Sadie when Denali extended his paw and covered her face with kisses.
“Long story,” Kreston said dismissively, noting his dog cozying up to Sadie. “Look at that. Denali rarely warms up to strangers.”
“Dogs seem to like me. I don’t know why, I haven’t had one since I was a kid.” Sadie backed up, wiping her face with the back of her mitten.
Kreston was impressed at his normally aloof dog’s enthusiastic greeting to the new woman in town. “I don’t run them nearly as often as I should. Let’s get you back to town. You must be tired after today.”
“Yes, but a good tired, you know? I could use a good hot soak.” She looked at him. “Are there any hot tubs in Polar Creek?”
“Funny you should ask. I have one on my back deck.” He pointed to a tarped blob under the snow. “I’ll fire it up for you one of these days.” It was a good segue into a personal invitation, which made his heart skip with a morsel of hope.
“Think I’ll take you up on that.”
Score one for the team.
Kreston’s face lit up, and he smiled to himself as they climbed into the truck for the drive back to town.
JESSIE SET DOWN A PLATE of sugar cookies shaped like moose, caribou, and bush planes onto a table in the hotel lobby. She baked for anyone who happened in as her way of spreading holiday cheer; it had become her Christmas tradition. Things hadn’t always been that way with Jessie. She was a broken soul when she’d arrived in Polar Creek years ago.
Kreston handed Sadie a caribou. “These are the best cookies you’ll ever eat in your life.”
Sadie bit into one and moaned. “Mm, so chewy. These are delicious!”
Jessie beamed. “So, where have you two been?”
“Took Sadie to see Denali and the team,” said Kreston, trying to sound low key.
“Did he tell you about the accident?”
“Accident?” Sadie’s eyes darted from Jessie to Kreston and back again.
Jessie looked at him. “Want me to tell her?”
Kreston shrugged. He didn’t talk about it because it dredged up horrible memories he didn’t care to remember.
Jessie’s expression softened. “Two years ago, Kreston was training for the Iditarod. Had a real shot at it, too. Out on a trail just outside Denali Park, two snowmachines collided with the team. His lead dog was seriously hurt, and...” she trailed off.
Sadie’s jaw dropped, waiting.
“I had to put him down,” Kreston finished quietly. “His injuries were too much. I flew him to the Fairbanks pet emergency, but it was too late.”
Sadie gave him an empathetic look. “So, you got a new lead dog?”
“A friend of mine in Talkeetna gave me a pup, and I named him Denali. Now I only mush for fun. No more distance training. Speaking of which...” He cleared his throat. “Want to ride with me in my sled tomorrow? It’s only a loop through town, but a lot of fun if you’ve never been pulled by a sled dog team.”
Sadie squealed. “Really? Yes!” The enthusiasm in her voice made him feel warm inside. She cleared her throat. “I mean, sure. If you want.”
Outside, the festival was in full swing, with kids sledding down the hill behind the grocery store while their parents sampled Mrs. Larson’s famous mulled cider.
The Gossip Trio teamed up to harmonize a sweet rendition of “White Christmas.” Tall Martha played the harmonica, and her roommate, four-foot-tall Mini-Martha, was one heck of a fiddle player. Henrietta, the school librarian, was their next-door neighbor and knew her way around a guitar. She could play the introduction to Heart’s “Crazy On You” like nobody’s business. They called their group “The Polarizers.”
Kreston explained all this to Sadie, then motioned at the door. “Want to go see what’s going on before you head up to your room?”
Her gaze settled on him. “Sure, I suppose.”
He opened the door, allowing her to step outside ahead of him. She nodded thanks, and they strolled along the wooden boardwalk from the hotel down to the general store, hearing the kids’ laughter behind it, sledding on a man-made hill in the empty lot behind it.
They stopped to watch people stroll down the middle of the street under the canopy of twinkling lights. Kreston had loaned Sadie a pair of his extra-large warm gloves, and he noticed her hands swam in them. A strand of auburn hair had escaped Sadie’s moose antler hat, and without thinking, he reached out to move it away from her face.
Their eyes met, and the snowflakes faded into a faint, ethereal mist. He was tempted to lean in for a kiss, but they were out here in front of the world. The town’s mayor shouldn’t be kissing random women in public—should he?
Lucky’s voice rang out behind them. “Come practice moose calls at the Spoon! First round of hot chocolate and Bailey’s is on me!”
“Poetry reading to follow,” added Tucker, who’d shuffled up behind them. “I’ve written a sonnet about the holidays and plumbing maintenance, with sketches to go with it.”
Sadie backed away to put distance between herself and Kreston, but he’d already caught her smile—softer than her usual sharp edges.
“I should—I have to help Jessie with the hot chocolate and cookies,” she stammered.
Wait a minute, is she blushing?
“Try not to start any hot chocolate riots.” Kreston observed her walking away, warmth waving through him that had nothing to do with the weather.
Something had shifted with her demeanor. For the first time since Sadie had blown into town, there hadn’t been a cutting remark. The sled dogs seemed to have softened her a bit.
The Gossip Trio ambled toward him as he turned to get into his truck.
“We’ve been watching the two of you,” gushed Henrietta, pushing her black cat-eye glasses higher onto her nose. “And we’ve decided you both make a cute couple.”
Kreston hesitated before responding. Why fight City Hall? Besides, he was tuckered out from outhouse racing.
“Why thank you, ladies.” He dipped a respectful nod, and they giggled as he climbed into his pickup and shut the door. When he started the engine, he lost himself in thought.
Cute couple? Not happening.
Like that would ever work out. Sadie is probably counting the minutes until she can fly back to Seattle. This isn’t some sappy holiday movie where the big-city woman falls for the small-town guy.
Besides, he detested flannel shirts. Just because he lived in Alaska didn’t mean he’d surrendered to lumberjack chic. He still possessed a scrap of dignity when it came to good old fashion sense. You can take the guy out of New York, but you can’t always take the New York out of the guy. Well, at least not all of it.
How else would I have known snow would ruin suede? Not that I would admit it to Seattle Barbie.
As he drove home, he reflected on the day. Tomorrow would bring the sled dog races and more of Sadie’s laughter. Or so he hoped. For the first time in a long time, he felt good.
The snow continued its steady determination to fall, adding another layer to Polar Creek’s collection of holiday memories.