Flipping up the mask on her helmet, she sighed, relaxed, and leaned back on her elbows. Mitch’s snowmobile continued to zoom ahead, then did an abrupt circle, roared back in her direction and stopped abruptly. His machine was as snow-covered as hers was, and with his suit and helmet totally encrusted, he looked something like the abominable snowman. Particularly when he swung one long leg over the side and started stalking toward her. “We’re never going to get there if you keep doing this,” he scolded, not for the first time. “I couldn’t help it.” She motioned all around her. Moscow always received its share of snow in winter, but often enough it was the kind of snow that pelted down…and then melted. This high lake country around the Kootenai River was something else. Kay knew it was a lumbering region in summer, but Mitch’s cottage was accessible only by snowmobile at this time of the year. She’d never been this far north before.
