Everything within him told him to keep walking. He couldn’t protect Clementine. He couldn’t even protect her silly dog. Experience had taught him that much, in the cruelest way possible.

But he was helpless to resist the strange pull he felt toward her.

Against his better judgment, he turned around. He barely had time to notice the snowball whizzing toward him before it hit him square in the forehead.

Chapter Three

Clementine watched in horror as the snowball flew toward Ben. With a squishy-sounding splat, it made contact with his forehead. His eyes widened as a blob of slush ran down his face and lodged in his closely trimmed beard.

Clementine was mortified to her very core.

Dear Lord, what has gotten into me?

She blamed it on Alaska. She’d gone wild. Just like the salmon.

“Your first snowball, I take it?” Ben wiped the slush from his beard and leveled his gaze at her.

“I was aiming at your back.” She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I promise.”

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head and one corner of his mouth tugged up into a crooked grin.

It was only half a smile, but she’d take what she could get. At the sight of it, Clementine released a relieved lungful of air. She stopped breathing again when he bent down and scooped a generous blob of snow into his big hands.

“I can’t remember the last time I was part of a snowball fight.” The gleam in his eyes was positively wicked as he went to work packing the snow into a perfect, round ball.

Clementine looked at the snowball with envy. Wow, he’s good.

“Fortunately, it’s like riding a bike. Some skills seem to stick with you.” He came toward her and launched the snowball in one swift movement.

She squealed and ran toward the makeshift shelter of the pitiful remains of her snowman, but not before Ben’s snowball hit the back of her parka with a thud.

“Wait!” she wailed, as she plunged her hands in the snow.

Ben pelted her with three more snowballs in rapid succession before she could even form one of her own. She wasn’t sure if hers even qualified as a snowball. It wasn’t quite round, if truth be told. It was shaped more like an amoeba.

She threw it as hard as she could and jumped up and down in delight when she discovered that snow amoebas were every bit as effective as snowballs. Ben’s beard was once again covered in snow. He looked like Santa Claus.

Wild Alaskan Santa.

Laughter bubbled up Clementine’s throat until tears streamed down her cheeks. She scrambled to form another snowball, but lost her balance on the slippery ground. She screamed through her laughter, even as Ben loomed over her with another of his perfectly packed snowballs.

He aimed it directly at her face and held it there, taunting her. “What’s so funny?”

A cold drop of snow landed on her nose, and she let out a shriek. “Your beard is full of snow. You look like a certain man who dresses in red suits and has a fondness for caribou.”

“Caribou, huh?” He lifted his brows. “You’re starting to sound like a real Alaskan.”

Her stomach flipped. “Really?”

His only response was to grind the snowball on the top of her head.

Ice-cold water ran down her curls, soaking her neck. A shiver ran up her spine. “I give up. You win.”

He flashed a triumphant grin and Clementine shivered again, this time at the reappearance of those charming crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “Great. I suppose that means you’ll reconsider the paw ointment idea.”

And just like that, the crinkles lost their appeal.

“It means nothing of the sort,” she spat. “You’ve won the battle, but not the war.”

His grin faded, along with the laugh lines. “I don’t want to be at war with you, Clementine.”

The genuine concern written all over his face nearly did her in. “It’s only an expression. We’re not at war.”

“Good.” He offered his hand to help her up.

She took it and tried not to think about how comforting his grasp was. Or about how delicate and feminine she felt standing next to him. Those were dangerous thoughts. The sort of thoughts that would keep her from her destiny. Although sometimes she wondered what exactly that destiny might be. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He peeled a few of her wet ringlets away from her face. “You’re soaked. You should probably get inside.”

Again with the unsolicited advice. Just like Mark. Two could play at that game. “And your hands are freezing. You should do the same.”

Ben jammed his hands into his pockets and nodded his head toward the hotel. “Would you like to get some coffee? They usually have a daily special. I think today it’s something called a toasted marshmallow latte.”

Even the lattes here sounded exotic. Her mouth watered. “That sounds great, but…”

“But?” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat.

She swept Nugget into her arms and narrowed her gaze at Ben. “You have to promise not to mention the foot lotion again.”

His jaw visibly clenched. “You mean paw ointment?”

Nugget trembled against her chest. As much as she hated to admit it, Ben was right—she needed to get inside. She hoped that was all he was right about. “You know what I mean.”

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He released a sigh and picked up his camera bag from where it had fallen in the snow during their snowball fight. “For now.”

As Ben led her to the coffee bar with his hand on the small of her back, Clementine tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d been on a date. There hadn’t been anyone since Mark. Not that this qualified as a date. As inexperienced as she was in the rules of engagement for snowball fights, she supposed this could simply be some sort of truce ritual.

And to be honest, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to count as a date. Dating didn’t really fit into the adventurous lifestyle she had in mind. Ben was certainly attractive. And so masculine. Nothing at all like the men back home. Beige would be the last word she would ever use to describe him.

He also thought she should spend her time making paw ointment instead of doing what she came here to do.

Let it go. He promised not to mention it again.

“What happened to you two?” The barista slid a single menu across the counter. “You look like a couple of drowned rats. Did you fall in the lake out back?”

“The lake is frozen solid, remember?” Ben nodded toward the big picture window behind the coffee bar. Behind the glass, what Clementine supposed was the lake stretched out like a blank, white canvas.

“That’s right. This is Alaska. I almost forgot, seeing as you look like you just went for a swim.” She cast a suggestive look in Clementine’s direction.

Okay, so maybe this is a date.

She waited for the inevitable feeling of suffocation to set in, like it had every time she even considered dating since breaking things off with Mark.

But the feeling never came.

Instead, she was surprised to find herself overcome by a strange sensation. She glanced over at Ben, sitting beside her. He smiled and she felt light as a feather. She wondered if she might float right off the bar stool and bump heads with the enormous bison looking down on them.

Ben leaned closer. He smelled of spruce and freshly fallen snow, like Alaska itself. “So two toasted marshmallow lattes?”

Clementine opened her mouth and started to order hers skinny, like she always ordered her coffee from the coffee bar down the block from the Nature World offices. The barista raised her brows and waited for an answer. Behind her, Clementine could see a small airplane skidding to a landing on two skis smack in the middle of the frozen lake. She’d never seen a plane with skis before. She didn’t even know such a thing existed. Probably because, like her coffee, everything in her life was boring. No fat, no whip, no sugar.

No life.

She tore her gaze from the plane with the skis and turned to Ben. “That sounds lovely. Can I have mine with extra whipped cream?”

“Of course.” He handed the menu back to the barista. Clementine finally focused on her Northern Lights name badge long enough to notice that her name was Anya. “Two toasted marshmallow lattes. Extra whipped cream on both.”

Anya scribbled a few lines on a notepad. “Coming right up. And I’ll bring a bowl of water for the dogs.”

Kodiak and Nugget lay curled together in the corner, under the belly of a stuffed grizzly bear standing on all fours. Clementine tilted her head and examined the fierce scowl on the bear’s face. “You know, I’ve always thought Pomeranians looked sort of like bears, until now. Nugget doesn’t look at all like that creature.”

Ben laughed. “A teddy bear maybe. But she’s no grizzly.”

“Have you ever seen one?” She focused on the bear’s huge, yellow teeth and gulped. “A live one, I mean?”

“A grizzly?” He shrugged, as if seeing a grizzly bear sauntering down one of Aurora’s sidewalks would be no big deal.

Clementine nodded and forced herself to look away from the bear’s snarl.

“Sure.” Ben took the two fresh lattes from Anya and set one down in front of Clementine. He blew on his, creating a subtle dip in the mountain of whipped cream. “In the summertime, you can see them catching salmon right on the riverbank. That’s why most everyone here carries bear insurance.”

Clementine wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee to warm them, and considered Ben’s comment. “Bear insurance? I don’t think we have coverage for that in Texas.”

He winked at her. “It’s only an expression.”

“For?”

He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup, and his blue eyes turned serious. “Guns.”

“Oh.” She gripped her cup tighter.

“No one likes to shoot a bear, or any other creature for that matter. And ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s not necessary. But this is Alaska. Things are different here. This can be a dangerous place and it never hurts to be prepared.” His voice was gentle but firm.

Clementine’s eyes widened and she whispered, “Are you telling me I need to get a gun?”

Ben choked on his latte with such force that he popped right off his bar stool. His face turned three shades of red.

“You okay, sport?” Anya asked. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed a glass of water toward him.

He sipped the water and waited until his color returned to a somewhat normal shade before he said anything. Then, finally, he sat down again and spoke through clenched teeth. “I am most definitely not telling you to go out and get a gun. In fact, I forbid you to do any such thing.”

“Forbid me? Ha!” Clementine slung back a gulp of her coffee. The moment it touched her tongue, she decided that fat lattes were infinitely superior to skinny lattes. “You can’t tell me what to do, Ben Grayson. You don’t even know me. You, you…lotion peddler.”

“For the last time, it’s paw ointment.” He slammed his coffee cup on the bar.

Anya shot a worried glance between the two of them, then slipped out from behind the bar and disappeared.

“I know. I just like to see you get all hot under the collar when I call it foot lotion.” Clementine flashed him a syrupy-sweet smile and finished off her delicious coffee. She didn’t ordinarily consume hot beverages so quickly. Then again, she’d never before had one that tasted like a liquid s’more.

Ben let out a frustrated grunt and dropped his head in his hands.

Clementine wondered if he would notice if she stole the remains of his coffee. He most certainly didn’t need any more caffeine. “Don’t grunt at me. You deserve it. All I did was ask a simple question.”

He took a deep breath and spoke with exaggerated calmness. “I apologize. It’s just the thought of your running around with a loaded gun…you could kill yourself.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about the bears. They can’t hurt you.”

She eyed the stuffed grizzly with suspicion. How the dogs could curl up right underneath it and sleep was beyond her. “Why not?”

“Because it’s winter.” The corners of his lips turned up into that charming lopsided grin of his. Finally. “They’re hibernating.”

“Oh.” Heat settled in Clementine’s cheeks. “I suppose you’re going to take back what you said earlier about how I was starting to sound like a real Alaskan.”

“No, I’ll cut you some slack.” His smile grew a bit wider. “But can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Like she could say no after making an idiot out of herself.

His blue eyes searched hers and he asked, “What brought you here? I know you’re a dog lover and you’re volunteering for the race as part of your job. But they could have sent anybody. I get the feeling this is about more than just work. Why here? Why now?”

“I’m not sure I can explain my reasoning.” Clementine’s throat tightened. It was a loaded question to be sure. “The last time I tried to explain it to a man, he didn’t understand.”

She thought for a moment about the day she’d finally told Mark she couldn’t marry him, that he seemed more like a brother to her than a husband. He didn’t understand that, either. She doubted if he ever would.

“Try me.” Ben’s voice was laced with an unexpected vulnerability that broke down Clementine’s resistance.

“I’ve lived in the same city my whole life. I’ve worked in the same cubicle since I took my job at Nature World over ten years ago. I’ve never taken more than one day of vacation at a time. Until yesterday, I’d never even been on an airplane.” She held her breath and waited for her words to sink in. She fully expected his expression to change to one of shock, or worse, sympathy. She looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the bar, afraid that when she looked back up, he would have that same baffled expression she’d seen on Mark’s face when she’d given him back his ring.

At last she looked up and met Ben’s gaze. She saw no trace of pity there, or judgment. So she continued. “After practically begging for this assignment, my boss finally relented and agreed to send me here last year. When I told my fiancé about it, he was horrified.”

Ben’s gaze flitted ever so briefly to her left hand.

“So I stayed home.” After all this time, it was almost shameful to admit. “Mark and I had grown up next door to one another. We were childhood friends and high school sweethearts. I think when he asked me to marry him, I said yes because it was what everyone expected us to do. It felt comfortable. Safe. It took me a while to realize that marriage…love…isn’t about being safe. I mean, love should be life’s greatest adventure, right?”

Ben’s expression grew pensive and he nodded slowly. “I suppose it should.”

“I have a favorite Bible verse, one that I memorized as a child. John 10:10, ‘I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.’” Clementine’s voice trembled with emotion. “Do you have any idea how many photographs I’ve seen from this race? The dogs always look so happy, so free. That’s what God wants for me. I’m finally going to reach out and take it.”

“So you came to Alaska.” It was a statement, not a question.

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Clementine should have been embarrassed. Surely Ben didn’t need to know her whole life story. He’d probably only been making polite conversation when he’d asked her why she was here. But for some reason, she was glad she’d told him the truth. Even though she thought she detected a flicker of pain in his gaze when she mentioned the Bible.

This had already proven to be a most unusual date anyway. She doubted he would ever ask her for a second one, no matter how she answered his question. Even if he did, she wasn’t sure she would accept.

When he spoke, though, he didn’t seem overwhelmed by her bare honesty. He didn’t look at her like she was nuts, either. “Well, you came to the right place.”

She blinked up at him. “I did?”

“Sure. Alaska has always been a place for people who crave more from life. There’s nowhere else like it on earth. People come here from all over the world, searching for a new beginning. Usually, they find it.” Despite his words of hope, Ben’s features were still tinged with sadness.

Clementine recognized the haunted look in Ben’s crystal-blue eyes. It was one she’d seen looking back at her in her bathroom mirror. A look filled with longing. “Now can I ask you something?”

He gave her a meager smile. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

She chose her words with care. “What about the people who are already here? Where do they go to start over?”

He stared down into his coffee cup. “That’s a good question. I’ll let you know the answer as soon as I figure it out.”

Chapter Four

Ben slept in fits and spent most of the night tangled in his bedsheets. Every time he flipped over or pounded his fist into his pillow, Kodiak sighed and crept closer to the foot of the hotel bed. When Ben at last gave up, propped himself against the headboard and aimed the remote control at the room’s small television, Kodiak hopped off the bed altogether and settled in a ball on the floor.

Ben cast him a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, bud.”

He knew he shouldn’t feel sorry for the husky. Kodiak was a sled dog. Not too many years had passed since he slept outside, on a bed of straw, surrounded by the other members of Ben’s dog team. Ben himself sometimes slept alongside them, wrapped in a thermal sleeping bag.

He’d never been the type of musher to leave his dogs unattended when they were out on the trail.

The television droned in the background, capturing his attention, exactly as he’d hoped it would. He stared at the flickering images of herds of wild musk oxen. With their woolly coats and curved horns, they looked almost prehistoric, even to a lifelong Alaskan like himself.

He’d landed on the hotel’s special Alaskan channel. Designed for tourists, it played a continuous loop of educational programming about the state’s history and wildlife. He supposed it was as good a channel as any. Maybe it would bore him to sleep.

Unlikely, with the thoughts that had kept him awake much of the night still tormenting him. Thoughts very un-Alaskan in nature.

Thoughts of Clementine Phillips.

Specifically, thoughts of her shoes.

She wouldn’t last half a minute as a dog handler in those glorified bedroom slippers. Once she grabbed hold of the gang line and felt the power of the dog team, her feet would slide right out from under her. If she was really intent on her plans—and it looked as though no amount of lecturing on Ben’s part would stop her—he was going to have to do something about those shoes.

Stay out of it. This isn’t your problem.

Clementine was a tourist. Whether she slid down the chute on her backside shouldn’t mean a thing to Ben. By this time next week, she would be gone.

Then why can’t I stop thinking about her?

Ben hadn’t given a second thought to romance in as long as he could remember. In his mushing days, there simply hadn’t been time. And since then, he’d walked around in a perpetual state of numbness, as though the frostbite in his hands on that long-ago night had somehow found its way to his heart.

Even if he did want to start a relationship with someone, it certainly wouldn’t be with a tourist who believed God had sent her here on some kind of divine adventure mission. Her unabashed thirst for life was alarming enough, even without the mention of the God who Ben had done his best to forget over the past four years.

So, he told himself, his concern for Clementine had nothing to do with romance. Thoughts of that nature would never have entered his mind if she hadn’t told him about her former fiancé—a complete idiot, in Ben’s opinion.

He pushed from his mind the image of her laughing, with snow clinging to the ringlets surrounding her face. He refused to think about her emerald eyes. Or the way her warm smile seemed to melt the block of ice surrounding his heart.

Instead, he focused on the shoes.

The shoes he could deal with.

* * *

Clementine almost didn’t hear her cell phone ringing, even though she’d been awake for at least an hour. After her morning devotional, she’d become mesmerized by a television show about musk oxen.

In honor of her trip, she’d changed her ring tone to barking dogs. This was, perhaps, not the best idea when traveling to a destination packed with happy, barking huskies. Already, she could hear dogs outside, howling for their breakfast.

She realized she must be getting a call when Nugget cocked her head and yapped at the cell phone, perched on the edge of the night table.

“Here, baby.” Clementine handed Nugget the moose-shaped dog toy she’d picked up in the lobby gift shop.

With her dog appeased, she picked up the cell phone. Fully prepared to see the familiar Nature World phone number on the screen, she cleared her throat and tried to remember the state of the papers strewn about her cubicle.

But the call wasn’t from her office. An unfamiliar number, preceded by the 907 Aurora area code, flashed on the screen.

“Hello?” she answered, as she gave Nugget’s moose toy a gentle tug.

“Hi, is this Clementine?” That rugged voice could only belong to one person.

She sat up straighter and abandoned the game of tug-of-war with her dog. “Yes.”

“This is Ben Grayson.” He cleared his throat and added, “You know, Kodiak’s dad.”

She knew, of course, exactly who Ben Grayson was. But his embellishment brought a smile to her lips. “Good morning, Ben.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling. I got your number from the race volunteer directory.”

“I don’t mind.” The way her heartbeat kicked up a notch told her this was an understatement.

“I was wondering…” Ben paused and Clementine held her breath, wondering if he was going to ask her out again.

She’d enjoyed their coffee date. And the bittersweet look on his face when he’d spoken about starting over told her there was more to Ben than met the eye. The possibility of getting to know him better intrigued her. Probably more than it should have, considering she had only a handful of days to spend in Alaska. Not to mention the fact that she wasn’t remotely ready for any kind of romantic relationship.

“Are you busy this morning?”

Clementine tightened her grip on her cell phone. “I have my dog handling class this afternoon, but I’m free until then.”

Her mind raced with possibilities of what he might be thinking. Something adventurous probably. Snowshoeing? Or maybe a nice, scenic drive through the mountains. She’d heard there was a glacier nearby.

Then, in his manly tone that made Clementine picture a mountain man on the other end of the line, he asked, “How would you like to do some shopping?”

Shopping? Her gaze flitted to the ceiling. Lord, is he serious?

Before she had a chance to answer, Ben sighed. “I’ll be honest. I have an ulterior motive.”

Clementine furrowed her brow and gathered Nugget, complete with moose, in her lap. This was not sounding good. “What would that be exactly?”

“If you’re going to handle dogs at the start of the race, you need some better shoes. It’s a matter of safety.”

“You’re concerned for my safety?” Oh no, not again. At least he’d abandoned the foot lotion idea. It was progress. Sort of.

“Yes. I was thinking about it earlier and I’d like to help.”

“You were thinking about me?” She knew she shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, but she couldn’t resist. Sort of like the snowball she’d thrown at his head.

He was silent for a moment. “I guess I was,” he finally admitted, although he didn’t sound remotely pleased about it.

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