Page 31 of Second Chance for the Grump

Relief hit me so hard it almost hurt. “Charlie was the deciding factor?”

“No,” she said against her own growing smile. “You are.”

Maisey was going to kill me one day. I couldn’t wait.

“When?” It would take her months to pack up her house. We could probably have her in Alaska by the spring. Could I wait that long?

“I already packed the important stuff.” Now the smile cut wide across her face.

It matched the shock on mine. “How?”

“I did it this morning,” she said with a shrug.

“Before you even decided?”

She took two steps off the porch and met me in the middle of her yard. “No, I packed before admitting I’d already decided days ago.”

I laughed again and held her tightly to me. “I love you.”

She laughed with me, burying her head against my shoulder. “Ditto.”

*Three weeks later—Alaska*

“Oh my god. It’s so pretty,” Maisey said with her face smooshed against a window in my cabin.

I laughed and joined her, watching the big white flakes drift down from the sky. “It’s snowed since you’ve been here.”

Almost daily. And snow was coating the ground when we arrived in early November.

“It doesn’t even look real,” she said, looking like she wanted to run out there and play in it. We’d done that almost every fresh snow, too.

“It’s Alaska, babe.”

I might have given her a little bit of hassle, but I understood. I acted the same way the first winter I spent snowed in on Fairplay Mountain. Some places, when you visit them, change you immediately.

Alaska did that to me.

It seemed that it happened to Maisey as well. From the moment we got off the small plane that brought us to the airstrip at the base of the mountain, both she and Charlie were captivated. The dog bounced across the tiny stretch of land we tried to keep plowed for an airstrip. Once the snow closed the roads in September, the only way in or out of our mountain escape was by plane.

“What?” she asked, turning from the window to stare at me.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About how I hope the snow gear is dry because we’re going to have to go out and test this new batch?”

She never stopped amazing me.

“No, I hadn’t thought about the snow gear.” I let my gaze roam over her body. “I had my thoughts elsewhere.”

Maisey giggled. “We should probably let Charlie out to explore. He likes the snow.”

I took one step to the side, taking her with me, and opened the door. Charlie, who was fast asleep on the couch in our small living room, immediately lifted his head, bolted off the couch, and rushed out the door.

“That he does.”

Charlie barely stepped onto the porch before he lunged into the fresh snow right outside our steps. He slammed his head into the fluff and snorted.

Maisey watched from the window and laughed. It should have been a perfect moment, but I let my worries ruin it. “What?” she asked.