On their last sips of hot chocolate, Marjorie uttered more about her split engagement. "It hurts to think I never expected Henry as gay. Also, losing a close friendship with Eddie changes my life."

Julie's eyes closed for a moment. "What happened is shocking." Her arms wrapped into a hug. "Marj, it is brave of you to take a step into a life filled with a new job in a different, far-away place."

"I had let my brother know. He's stationed at Fort Greeley Airforce Base and he encouraged me to move away to avoid explaining the whole story. I don't want questions from my family and so many friends."

"That would be torture. At least you don't have people here expecting details about your love life." She lifted her cup, toasting to a friend.

"Thank you, Julie. You help me feel a lot better." Marjorie's eyes widened with relief. "But you're giving me so much of your time. I'm sure you need to get back to carving ice." They both glanced at workers entering for a lunch break.

"Do need to, but since you did ask where the ice comes from, you should drive there. I'll give you directions to the pond."

Not feeling enthused, Marjorie nodded politely as Julie scribbled on a brochure. As they got back into jackets and gloves, she said, "You'll love seeing it, Marj."

Another hug parted them. At the parking lot, as Marjorie started the car, her thoughts hovered over Julie's odd, but cheerful expression. Her grin looked curious. Could Julie be directing her toward something?

An answer to that came in open sight when a snow-crusted road ended before a frozen lake. Five men were standing on solid ice in the middle of the lake. A man in goggles was operating an electric powered saw. He was a tall, strong man. The noonday rising sun glistened over muscular arms covered in a heavy coat. He worked in a confident manner.

It was him! Roger Hendricks appeared in her life again.

Marjorie resisted an impulse to drive away. Instead, she was parked before a startling sight of the lake being cut in rows of giant blocks of ice. Workers were managing to entwine rope around one block then hooked it onto tongs with dangling cable. All was rigged from a heavy-duty truck. The hunk of ice glistened blue in sunlight as it was lifted to set on a trailer bed next to other blocks.

Shouting voices and more chainsaw noise came from energetic men working to harvest blocks of purely clean ice. The hard workers seemed unaware of the frigid air. With a shiver, Marjorie assumed heat must build up under their heavy clothes. Her car windows began to fog up. Shivering, she restarted the motor. It took minutes before a few rays of heat began to blow onto her chilled legs.

A mitten appeared thumping on her foggy window. A deep voice rang out. "Hey, that you, Marj?"

Startled, she stared at a frosty beard and twinkling, icy-blue eyes. After a deep breath, Marjorie pressed the window down button. "Hello, Roger. Julie gave me directions here. It's amazing to see ice blocks pulled from a lake."

The car door popped open. "Come on out. I'll give you a close-up view."

She hesitated. "Well, that would be great to learn more about it."

Roger reached out, in a gentlemanly way, offering to help her step onto a crusty frozen surface. She paused, then shrugged, rolled up the window, and turned off the ignition. Leaning on his arm she stepped out into a clear view of the frozen pond. "I saw you cut blocks that are so large."

"Twelve-foot pieces. They're about two feet wide. Sculptors like that size."

"I met artists today. Julie introduced me to some from other countries."

"About a hundred sculpturers come from thirty countries. That includes the U.S."

"Really? How surprising!"

"Sure, Marj, a surprise for you in Alaska." Roger led her onto the surface of the pond. Gripping her arm kept her feet from slipping on solid clear frozen water.

"The ice is so deep." Her head was down, focused on each step. "How can you walk so easily and work with that equipment without falling?"

"This is how." He gave her a view of spikes attached to his boots. They stood away from a man noisily cutting into the hard surface. Roger began pointing at equipment lifting ice and the long bed of a van stacked with perfect blocks.

"Very impressive methods used here." Marjorie nodded with a shiver.

"You're getting too cold. Got hot coffee right over there." He pointed at a lighted trailer-house down a snow-covered path.

"A trailer used for warming-up? That's a welcome sight."

Inside, from a backpack on a shelf, Roger grabbed a thermos bottle and set it on a small table next to the furnace.

"My coffee is a strong black. Hope you can stand it." He handed her a paper cup.

"Coffee made by you?"

He nodded and his glance curiously roamed over her. "Great to see you out. I figured you would stay warm in that new apartment."

"Julie offered to show me ice sculptures today. I could not resist. Thank you for introducing her to me. She makes me feel like I have a perfect friend."

He grinned and sparkled in a lively way. "Oh, did you share secrets with her?"

A crimson color flooded her face and heat spun over her as she thought how Julie had heard the whole story of her anguish. As she twisted herself out of her heavy jacket, she lifted her cup and defiantly said, "None I will share with you."

"Oh, too bad. I want to hear more about you. Tell me what kind of life you plan to have in Alaska?"

"I told you about my year starting at the clinic. And, at the restaurant, Julie and Leo told me things about themselves. But not you, Roger. You have any home or a family here? And what sort of job?"

"Well, Marj, I guess I didn't mention much." Roger pulled off his knitted cap, scattering wavey dark brown hair over his forehead, giving him a sports hero look. "You know I just flew down from the North Slope."

"You pump oil out of the ground there?"

"Company I'm running does." He sipped his coffee in a relaxed way. "Almost got my house remodeled."

"A house in Fairbanks?"

"Yeah, live there by myself. Mom and Dad retired. They moved to Hawaii. I got a sister who is off studying at UCLA." He paused letting his gaze sweep over her. "Also, I'm a single man. But one you're not going to date. Right?"

Her cheeks still rosy, brightened.

A man's shout came in as the door opened. "Hey Rog, you and your pretty gal got any coffee left for me?"

Marjorie hurriedly stood up and slipped her jacket on. Before she could jolt away, Roger grabbed her gloves off the table and slowly handing her them, one at a time. Casually, he introduced his friend.