Chains of Ice Read Online Free PDF Page B

flabbergasted.
    “You carried on about it for hours.”
    “Maybe ten minutes.” If Genny wasn’t talking about business, her father always tuned her out. Or so she had thought. Maybe he was listening to her after all?
    Her father glowered in disapproval. “You still read National Geographic like it’s the Bible.”
    “I read National Geographic when I can.” A total lie. She read it every month as soon as it arrived in the mailbox. She’d even managed to scrape together enough to get a lifetime subscription.
    “Well?” He took a sip of champagne. “Don’t you want to go study some endangered wildlife? Rasputye is some tiny-ass hamlet with four hundred people. I thought you’d like it. You always used to babble about forests and observation and preservation and tagging.”
    Genny gazed again at the itinerary.
    Mountains.
    Wilderness.
    A deep, peaceful, soulful quiet.
    The chill wind in her face . . .
    She didn’t dare believe this. That her father had done something so out of character. . . . She swallowed; she looked up. “ You arranged for me to work with Lubochka Koslov, studying the Ural lynx?”
    “You deserve a reward.”
    She just . . . she couldn’t believe this.
    Working with wildlife was the dream of her lifetime, and for her, the Ural lynx were special—wild, shy, clever. The big, beautiful cats left their marks on the mountain forests that were their homes, providing proof of their existence, yet they were almost impossible to find and photograph. Genny wanted to help them, save them, do something in her life that had value for future generations.
    To have her father understand at last . . . that made it all the sweeter.
    Reality brought her up short. “B-but the job at CFG?” Father’s mouth grew pinched. “I still have some pull. CFG is holding your position until September.”
    Still she stared at the itinerary until he said, “Don’t you want to do it?”
    Mountains.
    Wilderness.
    A deep, peaceful, soulful quiet.
    The chill wind in her face . . .
    “Don’t I want to do it!” For the first time in years, since that day when he’d come home in disgrace, spontaneous pleasure ignited in her and brought her to her feet, moving her around the table to fling her arms around his neck. “Father, you’ve made me so happy!”
    He stiffened, pushed her away. “Remember where we are.”
    “Right.” Kevin Valente was a stickler for proper behavior. Even now, when people were beaming at them, father and daughter celebrating together, he thought about appearances. She straightened, returned to her seat, sat down. But no reprimand could stop her from grinning at him. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget this as long as I live.”
    “Good.” He watched as the waiter brought a clean white linen napkin, flipped it open and placed it in her lap. “There is one condition.”
    “Anything!” She looked again at the itinerary, then leaned it against the pepper mill where she could gaze at it with wonder.
    “There’s a man living in the area.”
    She didn’t understand what he meant. But she knew she didn’t like his tone. “A man? In what area?”
    “In the Ural Mountains.” Father pulled a snapshot out of his jacket and pushed it across the table toward her.
    She glanced at it. The guy had been caught in profile. He was young, tall, with rugged features, broad shoulders, and a military haircut. He was laughing at someone off camera, and his amusement made her smile. Whoever he was, the man seemed likable—the kind who lived big and embraced life.
    “They want you to talk to him,” Father said.
    Her smile faded. “They?”
    “If you can convince him to come to New York City and talk to them about taking a position, they’ll forgive your student loans.”
    The excitement, the joy, the chill wind in her face faded as if they had never been. In a slow, deadly tone, she asked, “Father, is this the favor I crossed off the loan papers?”
    “You don’t cross anything off their loan