That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) by Debbie Macomber

to anyone. It was probably one of the reasons he owned his own business. Probably one of the reasons he claimed his marriage was in trouble before his wife died.
    “Don’t get shook,” she challenged. “I wasn’t exactly sure I
wanted
to see you again.”
    His laugh was as rich and full as it was unexpected. “There was never any doubt in my mind,” he concluded. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me before this winter is over, so you might as well get accustomed to it now.”
    “Is that so?” A cold chill ran down her spine. What was it Grady wanted from her? He wasn’t the type of man to idly waste his time on anyone or anything. When he wanted something, he went after it. But what did she have to offer him? Cathy supposed she should feel complimented that Grady was interested in her. Instead, his acknowledgment filled her with a sense of quiet desperation.
    “Have you taken pictures of the pipeline yet?” The question came out of nowhere, slicing into Cathy’s thoughts.
    “No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t.”
    “Good, I brought my camera along. We’ll stop, and I’ll take a few photographs. You can mail some back to Kansas if you like. I imagine your family has never seen anything like this.”
    Several times Cathy had paused to view the huge twisting, curving cylinder that passed a few miles outside of Fairbanks. It was tall and so much larger than what she had expected.
    Grady pulled onto a dirt road that ran alongside the pipeline.
    “Wow!” Cathy shook her head in amazement. Standing on the tips of her toes, she was just able to touch the bottom of its round belly. “I’ve seen it from a distance before, but never this close. I didn’t realize it was this huge.”
    “Huge and expensive,” Grady told her as he lifted Angela above his shoulders so she could touch the silver belly. “Eight billion dollars for the seven hundred and ninety-nine miles that stretch from Prudhoe Bay in the Arctic Ocean to Valdez in the Gulf of Alaska. I believe it works out to something like ten million dollars a mile.”
    “Ten million dollars?” Cathy repeated with a sense of astonished disbelief. “That can’t be right.”
    “But it is,” Grady insisted. “Of course, a lot went into protecting the environment. Those heat exchangers on top of the pillars supporting the pipe serve a dual purpose. First, they protect the permafrost. The heat the oil flowing through the line generates would ruin the permafrost below. If the ground thawed, then the pylons supporting the cylinder would sink and ruin the pipeline.”
    The wind whipped color into her cheeks, and Cathy couldn’t prevent the shiver that raced over her body.
    “Need your coat?” Grady questioned.
    “No. I think I’ve seen about everything I want to see.” One last time, she stood on her toes in an attempt to touch the underbelly.
    “Want me to lift you, too?” Grady’s whispered question was meant for her ears alone.
    “Hardly.”
    His gaze ran over her, blue and glinting, and Cathy chose to ignore him, primly turning her back and returning to the car.
    “Wait a minute,” Grady stopped her. “I want to take your picture.”
    The wind whipped her hair about her face, and while one hand was lifted to her face to pull back the errant strand, Grady snapped the picture.
    “Where are we going now?” Angela questioned from the backseat.
    “Denali,” Grady answered.
    “Goodie.” Happiness sounded in the young voice. “When do we get to see the lions and tigers and bears?”
    “Keep your eyes peeled because there might be some around here.” The words were whispered in such a way as to make her believe something unknown might lurk behind a supporting pylon.
    Cathy turned around and smiled softly when she saw Peterkins was resting contentedly on the seat beside Angela. One paw and his chin were propped across her leg, as if to state she shouldn’t dare move because he was comfortable.
    “I don’t think we need fear lions and tigers