Northern Renegade

“What you need is a good healthy dose of a real man.”

In a moment of spectacular timing, Rooster McFie practically crowed from his spot across the restaurant/bar/pool hall. The shock of red hair and beard weren’t the only aspects that had earned him the Rooster moniker. He had the most disconcerting habit of almost crowing when he was excited. Dear God, she couldn’t imagine what he must be like when he was in the throes of sexual fulfillment. Ugh. It was one of those things she really didn’t want to imagine but crowded into her brain regardless.

Truthfully, she was all kinds of open to a sweet, gentle knight showing up on a figurative white steed—yes, she was a hopeless romantic—but she simply wasn’t seeing that happening in a small town in the middle of Alaska.

“I’m not holding my breath.”

Jenna looked past Tansy, and a slow smile bloomed on her face. “Don’t look now, but I believe that man is just what the doctor ordered.”

Don’t look now had to be one of the worst phrases because it fairly begged you to do just that.

She looked… and couldn’t seem to look away as something hot and real and slightly dangerous seemed to slam into her and through her, leaving her breathless and shaken.

Tansy didn’t know who he was, but she definitely knew, at first glance, precisely what he was—tall, lean, dark, wounded, inaccessible and somewhere the other side of sexy.

She finally looked away, feeling flushed and disheveled, as if he’d touched her, run his fingers through her hair, brushed against her skin, marked her in some way.

She also knew exactly what he wasn’t. This stranger was definitely no gentle knight on a white steed.

2

LIAM SCANNED THE ROOM for Bull. Sixteen years wouldn’t render his uncle unrecognizable. Even though he wasn’t a tall or loud man, Bull Swenson was a man of presence. Gus’s was nearly full, though, so Liam continued to search the crowded room.

And then, suddenly he saw her midscan, across the room. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. Short dark hair. Glasses. Slightly round face. Average height. Lavender T-shirt. Her eyes locked with his.

It was as if everything slowed down inside him, the same way it did when he was about to take a shot. His heart rate slowed. His breath stilled for several counts.

And then she turned around and the rest of the room came back into focus. He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but something had. He felt shaken and there was very little that shook his composure. It was as if she’d sighted him in her crosshairs.

He mentally shook his head, dismissing the feeling, and continued his scan. Bull. Four o’clock. At the bar.

Bull looked Liam’s way and without a word to the guy sitting next to him, stood. Liam met his uncle halfway. Bull’s handshake turned into a one-armed hug. “You made it.”

There was a whole hell of a lot that went unsaid in those three words. Bull wasn’t just talking about Liam arriving in Good Riddance. It was an acknowledgment from one soldier who’d survived combat to another.

“I did.”

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s a good place to be.”

For the first time in a long time Liam felt as if he could exhale, at least a little. He still didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with his life but for now, being here felt right.

“Yeah, it seems to have treated you well.”

Liam had seen some things—terrible things, but it was nothing compared to Bull’s experience. As a POW in Vietnam, Bull had been to hell and back.

Bull grinned. “Can’t complain, can’t complain. Nice job on that mission. How’s the leg?”

Liam shrugged it off. “Not a problem.” The only problem had been when they’d been patching up what was little more than a flesh wound they’d found his faulty heart valve. That was the damned problem, not his leg.

Bull simply nodded and moved on to ask, “You hungry?”

Liam grinned. “Damn near starving.”

“Then belly up to the bar and we’ll feed you while you meet everyone.”

Throughout the entire exchange with Bull, Liam had had an undercurrent of awareness, always sensing the presence of the woman sitting in the booth to his left. He would find out who she was, but he’d wait until Bull had made introductions and see if one was forthcoming. Two characteristics had been honed by his training, his instinct and patience. He could wait, but in the meantime he was cognizant of her.

Several minutes later he felt as if he’d met damn near everyone in the joint… except her. However, the blonde at the booth with her, a woman named Jenna, had stopped by on her way out. Liam now knew the other woman’s name. Tansy. Tansy Wellington. She was Jenna’s sister and was here visiting from Chattanooga.

He’d never met anyone named Tansy. But he’d also never reacted that way to a woman, either. In an instant she’d slid beneath his skin. It wasn’t as if his guard was down because his guard was a permanent fixture. Nope, she’d just slipped in, marched straight through and set up camp. He didn’t like it a damn bit.

A tall, raw-boned woman plunked a plate heaped with a healthy portion of potpie on the counter before him. “Thanks,” he said with a nod, picking up his spoon. He turned to Bull. “So, congratulations. Merilee says the two of you tied the knot.”

He took a bite. The potpie was damn good.

“Yep. When you find a good woman you’ve got to hold on to her, even if you have to spend twenty-something years to pin her down.”

Liam spoke frankly to Bull. They’d always had that kind of relationship, even though they didn’t see each other often. Both of them were straight shooters. “I’m surprised you and Merilee married after all this time.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s because the crazy woman was still married, but just hadn’t mentioned that minor detail. Hell, I’ve been trying to marry her since I met her. When you find a good one you have to keep her.”

“No kidding? She was still married?”

“Yep. Her old man wouldn’t give her a divorce. Picture an asshole with control issues. She kept thinking she’d get a divorce at any time and then it just became a thing. He showed up a couple of years ago engaged to Jenna, the woman who just left.”

Jenna had mentioned her husband and a baby. “Merilee’s ex lives here and they just had a kid?”

“Hell, no. Merilee ran his ass out on the rails once she got her paperwork signed.” He grinned and nodded his satisfaction with his woman’s actions. “Jenna decided to stay. She married a guy she knew from high school last year. Nice fellow. Speaking of marriage and divorce, sorry to hear about Natalie.”

“How’d you know about Natalie?”

“Dirk. He rolled in last September, stayed a couple of months and then rolled back out.”

Liam’s cousin Dirk did that. He’d show up for a while and then vamoose. Dirk was something of a rolling stone. And they’d had some damn good times together as kids and teenagers. Dirk was a year younger than Liam and Lars and a year older than Liam’s baby brother, Jack. The four of them had spent many a summer vacation and holidays fishing, hunting, making slingshots, four-wheeling, skinny-dipping, generally doing a bunch of fun stuff at their grandparents’ spread in upper Michigan.

And that Dirk would know about his and Natalie’s divorce made sense. Liam’s mom didn’t get along with her two brothers, Bull and Dirk’s dad. However, Natalie and Dirk had grown up next door to each other and their moms were good friends. Hell, that’s how he’d met Natalie in the first place.

In fact, Natalie had been a sore spot between Liam and his cousin. Liam hadn’t known he was encroaching at the time, and the truth was, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference. Dirk thought Liam had stolen Natalie from him, and it had definitely driven a wedge between the two of them.

Liam felt sure that Natalie’s mom had been the one to tell of his and Natalie’s breakup. You knew you were in a crazy family when your former mother-in-law was the one telling your kin about your divorce.

“How long was Dirk here?” Liam asked. He was sorry he’d missed his cousin. He hadn’t seen him in probably six years or more.

“For a couple of months.”

Behind him, Tansy stood. He sensed her movement. The mirror beneath the stuffed moose head mounted on the back wall over the bar merely confirmed it.

Unlike nearly every other person in the room, she didn’t approach them for an introduction. He looked over his shoulder at her retreating backside as she headed for the door. Bull followed Liam’s gaze.

“So, what’s her story?” Liam said.

There was no point in anything other than cutting to the chase. Bull would see straight through it.

“She’s working on a book. She caught her fiancé fooling around on her and came here to get away for a while and finish up her work. She got here last week and she’ll be heading out at the end of the month.”

“Ah. One of those scorned women hating on men.”

“I wouldn’t say that. She strikes me as a nice gal. Now when she asks if you’re one of those scorned divorced men hating on women, what should I say?”

“What makes you think she’ll ask?”

“Oh, she’ll ask. What should I tell her?”

She’d sighted him in her crosshairs. She’d peered down her scope at him. He didn’t like it one damn bit. “Tell her it’s none of her business.”

TANSY STEPPED OUT INTO the September sun and hesitated as the door to Gus’s Restaurant and Bar swung shut behind her. Indecision washed through her. She really should just head back to the cabin and get to work. However, focus didn’t seem to be her strong suit these days. If she went back out there now without knowing who the stranger with the magnetic gray eyes was, well, she’d simply sit around and wonder.

Jenna was going to be tied up with a client so asking her was out, and the need to know burned inside her.

“What’s up, Tansy?”

Lost in her own indecision, she’d missed Alberta’s approach. Which merely proved how distracted Tansy had been by the nonverbal encounter with the stranger because Alberta was one hard lady to overlook.

Alberta was, in a word, “colorful.” A flowered kerchief covered some of her bright red hair. A brocade vest topped a mutton-sleeved cream blouse. Full, multicolored panels comprised her handkerchief-hemmed skirt, which ended right above her lace-up ankle boots. Turquoise eye shadow, Popsicle-orange lipstick and purple nail polish rounded out her full presentation of the color spectrum. There wasn’t a color known to God or man that Alberta wasn’t wearing today.

“Not a lot on going on,” Tansy said. “I just grabbed a bite to eat with Jenna. How about you?”

“Can’t complain.” Alberta issued a gap-toothed grin. “Me and Dwight are still in that honeymoon stage.”

The thought that she, Tansy, wouldn’t have a honeymoon because Bradley was a liar and a cheater, crossed her mind. She brushed it aside, focusing on Alberta and the conversation.

That was the remarkable thing about Good Riddance. Tansy had only been here a week, but between Jenna’s weekly emails and being here, she felt fully tuned-in to the town and its people.

Alberta, a traveling Gypsy matchmaker, had shown up in Good Riddance back in May. She’d wound up marrying the man who’d commissioned her to find him a wife.

Dwight Simmons had spent most of his life prospecting and his latter years playing chess and checkers with his prospecting partner, Jeb Taylor. When Jeb died, Dwight decided he was ready for a wife and sought Alberta’s expertise. She’d found him one all right—her.

At eighty-one, it was his first marriage. Dwight was Alberta’s sixth husband. It was all rather mind-boggling in a charming way.

Actually, Alberta had proven comforting. Within two days of Tansy’s arrival, Alberta had corralled her and told Tansy not to worry about Bradley. According to the psychic/matchmaker, Bradley wasn’t the one for Tansy and his infidelity was a reflection of him, not her. It was all standard comfort-your-dumped-friend verbiage. Tansy had found some solace in being told she hadn’t fallen short as a woman because it was all too easy to feel inadequate when you’d expected to spend your life with a man while he was busy seeking the next best thing.

It was sweet to hear Alberta talk about her new marriage. “A honeymoon stage is good.”

“You’d better believe it.” A sly wink and an elbow nudge accompanied her words. “I’m on my way to check in on my stud muffins. Why don’t you walk over and say hi with me?”

Dwight and Lord Byron, Alberta’s three-legged tomcat, both hung out at the airstrip center office. Tansy couldn’t exactly see either Dwight or Lord Byron as stud-muffin material, but, as with beauty, reality was in the eye of the beholder.

It sounded good to Tansy. She wasn’t ready to get back to work and perhaps if she knew who the stranger was, she could shake off the impact of those few seconds when his eyes had pierced hers. And the surest source of information was Merilee.

Tansy trailed along with Alberta to the door halfway down the front of the building.

They stepped into the airstrip office, the scent of cookies and coffee in the air. Merilee and one of the bush pilots, a pretty, newly married brunette named Juliette, had their heads together over paperwork at Merilee’s desk. Juliette and her husband, Sven, were her neighbors out at Shadow Lake. Juliette’s husky puppy, Baby, sat waiting patiently between the two women. Baby actually flew in the plane with Juliette on trips. It was cute.

The object of Alberta’s affections sat across the room, staring at the chess table before him. Dwight not only had a new wife, but a new chess partner had materialized in Jefferson Walker Monroe.

According to Jenna, Jefferson had simply walked into town one day and sat down in the rocking chair on the other side of the chess set and that had been that. It turned out that the only relative Jefferson had left was Curl, the town’s taxidermist, mortician and barber.

Curl hadn’t actually known he had a long-lost relative, particularly a man of color who recounted stories of playing the saxophone with greats such as Count Basie and Louis Armstrong and playing studio sessions with Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald. However, Curl had embraced Jefferson, as had the rest of the town’s people.

Tansy had looked him up on Google. Jefferson Walker Monroe was the real deal.

In so many ways, Good Riddance was like the collection of Santa’s misfit toys from the Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer TV classic. Maybe that’s why Tansy felt right at home.

Dwight and Jefferson sat on opposite sides of the chessboard. They were a study in juxtaposition, their only commonalities white hair and lined faces. Both men had witnessed the change of seasons for more than eight decades.

Dwight’s long white beard and fringe of white hair rested against the collar of his checked flannel shirt. Long summer days and harsh winters had weathered his skin to a permanent ruddiness. Tall and thin, his carriage bore a permanent stoop. His overalls, while clean, were as worn and weathered as his face.

Across the table, Jefferson bespoke a sophistication of a bygone era of well-dressed couples, two-olive martinis and a husky-voiced chanteuse in evening wear. With his close-cropped white hair, wire-rimmed spectacles and well-pressed suit he should’ve appeared ridiculous in a town ruled by work boots and flannel. However, he simply looked like a man comfortable in his own skin, waiting to be called onstage to play the next set.

Lord Byron, who was possibly the ugliest cat Tansy had ever seen, but had survivor written all over him, lay curled on top of the empty potbellied stove.

“Hey, sweet thing,” Alberta said loudly to Dwight, whose hearing wasn’t so good these days.

The cat’s ears pricked but he didn’t open his eyes.

Before Dwight could respond, Jefferson smiled, mischief glinting in his eyes. “I’ve told you not to talk to me that way in front of your old man.”

“Hey, beautiful,” Dwight said to his wife. Most assuredly a case of beauty in the eye of the beholder. He turned back to his chess partner. “Don’t make me call you out, talking to my wife that way.”

“Won’t make any difference if you’re not any better at fighting than you are at chess. And if you don’t have better moves behind closed doors than you do on the chessboard.…”

Dwight grumbled beneath his breath and moved a chess piece.

Tansy laughed at the byplay as Merilee looked over her shoulder. “Afternoon, ladies.”

Tansy waved. Alberta spoke up. “What’s shaking, Merilee? Juliette?”

Juliette opened the back door. “I’m off to Wolf Pass for a pickup. See you guys later.” Baby trotted out behind her.

Merilee stood, stretching. “Bull’s nephew Liam just got into town. We haven’t seen him in years. We knew he was coming but we just didn’t know when.” Merilee looked at Tansy, a question in her eyes. “He was just over at Gus’s.”

Liam. Tansy turned the name over in her head. It fit. It was unusual, and the man himself, in that brief moment of eye contact, had struck her as just that—unusual.

“I saw someone with Bull, but there are still people in town that I don’t know. Or rather who live out of town.” There were a number of people, men mostly, who lived out in the wilderness surrounding Good Riddance.

“Liam’s a nice name,” Alberta said.

Merilee nodded. “He’s a nice guy. We don’t know the whole story but he just got out of the Marines. He was a sharpshooter. I’m surprised he’s out—don’t know why—but I’m glad he’s here.”

Something slid over Tansy. A sharpshooter. The man’s sole purpose had been to kill people. Hard. Dangerous.

“When did he get out of the military?” Alberta said.

Merilee shrugged. “All we know is Bull got an email from his sister saying he left in May setting out for here. His sister’s not the most reliable source. We thought for years Liam and Lars had joined the Army. Where he’s been in between or what happened, I have no idea.”

“So, I guess he’s not married or he wouldn’t have left his wife behind?” Alberta pursed her lips in consideration.

“He’s divorced. His cousin Dirk told us when he was here. Liam’s got a twin, Lars, who’s also a Marine and a younger brother, Jack, who’s a Navy SEAL, but beyond that—” another shrug from Merilee “—is a mystery. Bull and his sister have been estranged for several years now. She’s an odd bird and doesn’t seem to play well with others.”

None of it should matter to Tansy any more than any of the other people she’d encountered here, but strangely it did. There was something about the man that attracted her, drew her, from the moment she exchanged that glance. She felt unsettled inside… well, even more so than before. And it wasn’t just a curiosity. It was a sexual attraction, a wanting that had been instant, and it was a feeling that she simply wasn’t accustomed to. She’d felt desire with Bradley, but that had been a culmination of getting to know him, of wooing and bonding that grew as she got to know who Bradley was inside. Although she’d obviously been way off the mark with what was inside Bradley. How could she have been so wrong about him? She wanted to just wake up and have things the way they used to be. However, she kept those thoughts to herself, not even sharing them with Jenna.

But how could she be attracted to a stranger when she still felt that way about Bradley?

“Interesting,” Alberta said, and for one disconcerting moment Tansy thought the other woman was commenting on what had been rolling through Tansy’s head. But then she realized Alberta was merely commenting on Merilee’s rundown on Liam. “Where’s he gonna stay?” Alberta said.

“Bull and I have talked about it and discussed it with Skye and Dalton. We knew he was coming, just not when. He’s going to stay in the other cabin out at Shadow Lake.” Merilee smiled at Tansy. “Liam’s your new neighbor.”

MALLORY KINCAID GNAWED on the end of her pen—a bad habit, that—as she stared at the blinking cursor on her computer screen. The air conditioner hummed in the background, working overtime in the humid heat of Louisiana’s Indian summer. She could close the blind on the hot sun slanting through the window but she liked the feel of it against her skin.

Good Riddance, Alaska. The satellite image showed a small town, with one main street running through its center and surrounded by trees. Lots and lots of trees.

That’s where Liam Reinhardt was now. She quit gnawing on the pen and placed it on top of one of the piles on her desk. He obviously wasn’t trying to hide. It’d been easy to follow him via his credit card usage.

He’d left Minnesota and headed southwest, rolling through South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, back north into Montana, west again to Washington and finally Alaska via Canada. He hadn’t been in any hurry. He’d spent four months traveling, alternating between motels and campgrounds.

He might pick up and move on tomorrow, but Mallory had a feeling he’d finally arrived at his destination. His uncle lived in Good Riddance. Bull Swenson owned a hardware store/sawmill and the deed to several parcels of land in addition to an interest in the airstrip and the local eatery—public records were a beautiful thing.

The remoteness of the Alaskan wilderness seemed to fit Liam Reinhardt perfectly. She just couldn’t imagine a man like him settling down in the suburbs.

It’d been a crapshoot when he was discharged. She figured he’d either land at Quantico as a civilian adviser or he’d go to ground. Apparently he was going to ground.

She opened another tab and typed in flight information. She winced at the results. She hadn’t thought it would be cheap, but it was going to be damn expensive to get herself there. However, she had to do what she had to do. A couple of keystrokes later and she was printing her boarding pass for a flight tomorrow.

And that was the easy part. Adrenaline surged through her. The challenge lay in getting Liam Reinhardt to actually talk to her. And part of that adrenaline surge was due to the fact that she was admittedly infatuated with and fascinated by the man.

She came from a military family and had pursued a career as a military historian. She’d grown up surrounded by men in uniform and had always considered them a cut above the rest, but there were always a handful of men who stood out even above them. Liam Reinhardt was one of those men.

He’d performed brilliantly in what was his final mission. It hadn’t gotten a lot of coverage in the media, which was the way the corps had wanted it, but those with military knowledge knew the importance of what had gone down, and that Reinhardt had been the one to deliver the goods. She had seen him a year ago in a video conference when she’d been in a Marine general’s office on a documenting assignment and had been smitten from the moment she’d seen him and heard his voice—online, that is. Since then she’d followed his career, researched him and come to realize he was the man meant for her.

She glanced at his framed picture sitting on her desk. Those eyes, the hard glint of his stare, the line of his jaw. She smiled and reached over and traced her finger against the glass that separated her from his image. She’d found it of him in military files and had the photo printed. There was also one sitting on her nightstand.

He was only one of the best sharpshooters in military history, right up there with legendary sharpshooter Carlos Hathcock of Vietnam-era fame. He was precisely what she’d always dreamed of in a man. Handsome yet rugged, highly accomplished and self-contained—how could a woman not be in love with a man like that?

While getting him to share the story of his last mission with her might be a challenge, she knew that once they met he’d recognize her as his fate, as surely as she knew he was hers.

As mere mortals neither of them could deny a force stronger than them—destiny.

They were meant to be together.