Alaskan Sweethearts

“I’m sorry.” In all of his grandfather’s stories, the man had never mentioned his partner was dead. “What happened?”

Scarlett glared at him. “My grandfather couldn’t believe what yours had done. He was sick with a fever, but he insisted on going out to the mine so he could see for sure. I think he expected to find a note saying it was all a joke nailed to the claim post. The day was bitter cold and he fell, cracking the ice on the creek. Got his feet wet. He barely made it home. My grandmother buried him ten days later in the graveyard on the hill above the mine so he could look down on it. Pneumonia had set in. By then your grandfather had already left the state.”

“He didn’t know,” Hunter said, his voice stumbling. “I don’t think he even knew.”

His grandfather had talked his share of people out of money to finance some purpose or the other, but he’d never deliberately harmed anyone. Not like that. Given the date today, though, Hunter was wondering if the old man was taking care of every bit of bad business in his life.

“My grandmother had to take in washing to support her and her baby,” the woman said, her voice full of reproach. “Even now she claims that’s what caused her arthritis.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean for that—” Hunter started and then stopped. He was going to have to stop defending his grandfather. Even if the man meant well, it never worked out that way.

Everything was silent for a moment.

“My grandmother didn’t think he could have known, either,” the woman finally admitted.

“I’m sorry.” Hunter didn’t say anything else. He had no other words. It had happened long ago, but he could see it was like yesterday for the Murphy family. Sort of like the car accident in his family. Something no one ever got over.

Then Scarlett faced him directly.

“I understand your grandfather has buildings on the property he’s giving us,” she said as though she didn’t expect any further answer to her grief.

Hunter nodded. He understood the desire to keep heartache to oneself. Talking didn’t always help. He knew that himself.

“The house isn’t much,” he admitted. No one had lived in it for seventeen years. They had left the furniture there when they’d moved out, but they hadn’t maintained the place. There could be rats in the cupboards for all he knew. The cats had gone to the new place. “The barn is serviceable.”

Right now the house and barn were the only things not leased to Mr. Cleary. His grandfather had pointed out numerous times that the house should be fixed so he’d have a place to move when Hunter brought a bride home to the new place. Not that there was a wedding in sight. Until his grandfather stopped his schemes, Hunter was stuck. If he did marry, he had no intention of kicking his grandfather out of their home. But he couldn’t ask anyone to put up with the old man’s schemes, either, especially now that they were back in full force. That pretty much tied everything in a nice uncompromising knot.

“You won’t want the house,” Hunter said when he saw that Scarlett wasn’t weakening. “It’s almost falling down. Needs new electrical. Plumbing. Paint. The works.”

“You’re just as bad as your grandfather,” she said with a grin. “You can’t stop me, though. He warned me about you.”

Hunter blinked.

“He what?” He almost couldn’t speak, he was so astonished. “He warned you about me?”

He was the good grandson. Always had been. The one who had stayed. The one who fed the cats warm milk when the snow was knee deep outside and the wind was howling. The one who gave everyone back their money, even if they had lost their receipt. He’d half raised his brothers, made sure they got to school on time and washed behind their ears. And his grandfather had warned her about him?

“Yes,” Scarlett said emphatically. “And my family needs that house—and the land. It’s going to be our new home. We have your grandfather’s promise in writing and we’ll sue if that’s what we need to do to get what should be ours.”

With that threat, she turned back to the car, clearly dismissing him.

Hunter did the only thing he could. He turned around, climbed the steps and stomped into the café. He had to wait a minute for the cat to slip through the open door first, but they both finally made it inside with their dignities intact. As he suspected, his grandfather was calmly sitting at a table in the back —a cup of coffee and a half-eaten piece of apple pie in front of him. Hunter noted that, as usual, the waitress had removed the salt and pepper shakers from the table. His grandfather had a history of putting them in his pocket when he left. Hunter had finally gotten tired of bringing them back so he’d asked the owner, a nice woman by the name of Linda Enger, if she would just have them taken off the table when his grandfather came in. She’d not only done that, she’d preserved the old man’s dignity by telling the waitresses it was to cut down on his salt intake.

“What are you up to with the Murphy family?” Hunter demanded to know as he sat at the table. The cat curled itself under his chair. His grandfather had given up shaving these days in favor of a short white beard that made him look deceptively jolly. He’d lost some height in his old age and was a little more round than he should be. He still wore his trademark long-sleeved denim shirts, though. He said the ladies liked them because their color matched his eyes. Red suspenders held up the black wool pants he preferred. Hunter suddenly wondered if his grandfather wanted to look like Santa Claus so he could fool people easier.

“Why today of all days?” Hunter continued, working to soften the steel in his voice.

His grandfather shrugged. “It’s time we moved on.”

“And why would you warn someone about me?” Hunter added. He needed to be calm if he expected to learn anything. “I’m the good guy here.”

The old man just looked at him.

“Scarlett Murphy isn’t a fool,” Hunter said, trying again. “So you might as well let me in on the plan you have.”

The smell of the frying bacon reminded Hunter that it had been hours since he’d had breakfast. He looked over and caught the eye of the waitress. She was new, all starched and proper, and he didn’t know her name. He nodded to her all the same. Then he turned back to his grandfather.

“I thought it would be obvious—now that Scarlett is here.” The elderly man smiled and then he paused the way he did when he wanted someone’s full attention.

No one ever said his grandfather didn’t take full advantage of a suspenseful moment, Hunter thought.

“What is it?” Hunter asked, focusing completely on him now. That was the only way to find out anything. “What are you doing this time?”

“Well,” his grandfather said softly, seeming to relish his announcement, “I warned her about you because women like a little excitement in a man.”

“And?” Hunter knew he wasn’t finished.

“I’m trying to find you a bride since you won’t do it yourself.”

“A—b-bride,” Hunter stammered, staring at the old man in astonishment.

The sky outside had gotten darker and the café was filled with shadows. Hunter told himself that he should have stayed home today. His grandfather as a matchmaker was preposterous. Only then did Hunter realize the letter, lying so innocently open on the table, had been bait. His grandfather had known he would charge in like a knight on a white horse to save the unknown Scarlett.

“There’s no one like those Murphy women,” his grandfather noted in satisfaction as he rested the palms of his hands flat on the table, looking pleased with himself. “You’re my grandson. You deserve the best.”

“I don’t need you to find me a wife.” The thought was alarming.

“Well, you sure aren’t looking for yourself,” his grandfather retorted as he lifted his hand and slapped it down for emphasis. The old man looked startled at how loud the smack was. The sound of a cup shattering sent Hunter’s attention over to the waitress. She was staring down at the broken cup at her feet as coffee ran all over the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter said to her as he started to rise. The cat had already snuck off to lie under another table.

“No.” The waitress held up a hand to stop him. “I’ve got it. You just stay with your grandfather. See that he doesn’t have any salt.”

Hunter sat back down and looked at his grandfather. The circus had only just started. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, you’re not getting any younger. A man like you needs a family.”

Neither one said anything for a moment. Hunter focused on the red plastic carnation in the middle of the table as he counted to ten.

“I’ve got a family,” he finally whispered.

He’d never understood what happened to make his father swerve so fast that the car flipped, but when it did, a fire started in the engine. He’d tried to move his unconscious father, but when Hunter hadn’t been able to do it, he’d climbed out of the vehicle alone. He’d gone to his mother, hoping she could help, but she was on the ground bleeding and hadn’t even seemed aware of the fire. She’d taken his hand in hers, begged him to promise he’d keep the family together no matter what happened. The younger boys had been lying near a ditch crying, but they hadn’t heard her. Hunter had looked back at the increasing smoke but couldn’t leave his mother—or was it that he wouldn’t leave? That question had tormented him for years. Had he been too afraid of the fire to return?

He’d finally made the promise to his mother just as a pickup had come screeching to a halt a few feet from them. His grandfather had been there then, lifting him up in a hug. The old man had set him down and raced to the burning car. Hunter had tried to stop his tears, but he hadn’t been able to. The ambulance and Sheriff Wall, their red lights all flashing, had come soon after that. They’d put the fire out, but Hunter had never seen either of his parents alive again.

Hunter hadn’t told anyone about the promise he’d made....

But maybe his grandfather had suspected, because he grunted and said, “I mean a proper family. Not just people you think you have to take care of.”

Hunter shook his head. “I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t,” his grandfather said gently. “That’s not the point.”

“This woman will likely sue us,” Hunter said before the other man could say anything else. A man didn’t always choose his family, but he still had an obligation toward them. The cat had come back to sit at his feet like a sentinel. Loyalty was bred into those cats, too.

The older man looked taken back. “You mean, Scarlett? She can’t sue us. I didn’t promise her you’d marry her or anything. I’m not that daft.”

“No, but you did promise her some land.”

“Well, she wasn’t going to come down here from Alaska for the pleasure of meeting us, now was she?” his grandfather said, unrepentant and still more cheerful than he ought to be in Hunter’s opinion.

Just then he heard the door of the café open and he turned around. The woman stood there, silhouetted, the sun shining behind her and—Hunter gulped—a small red-haired boy’s hand in hers.

“She’s got a son,” he whispered as he turned to his grandfather. “She’s already married.”

That would teach the old man a thing or two about meddling, Hunter thought in relief.

“Divorced,” his grandfather said as he gallantly rose and gestured for the woman and boy to join them. “Desperate and broke, too. You should have no trouble.”

Hunter was speechless. He would have nothing but trouble. He could tell that much already.

* * *

As Scarlett stood inside the doorway, she could see that the sun-faded curtains didn’t quite reach across the windows in this place. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed long, thin strips of light shining through the gaps and falling across the full length of the nicely polished black-and-white tiled floor. Steel stools with red upholstered tops were lined against a small counter. A dozen tables, a few of them in use, were scattered around. She saw the cat from earlier stretched out under the table where the Jacobsons sat.

She tightened her grip on the handle of her leather briefcase. Her grandmother had given her the power of attorney to sign Colin’s papers. The document and a letter for the man were inside.

Hunter stood from the table where he had been sitting with his grandfather as she examined him. Square jaw, muscular, belligerent. Unfortunately she’d had her fill of men like him. She’d been married to one and learned the hard way that they strutted around giving orders as though they were kings of the world, never giving a moment’s thought to anyone but themselves.

She wondered what Hunter’s real reasons were for trying to stop her. She’d been under the impression the Jacobsons were rich enough to part with that small piece of land easily. He must be greedy—the kind of man who wouldn’t give a beggar a crust of stale bread even if he had a dozen loaves himself.

Before taking a step farther, Scarlett glanced down and put a hand on the shoulder of her five-year-old son, Joey. She felt a tremble in his slight body. It sent an answering shudder through her. Her son used to sparkle with mischief. But he had lost all his confidence lately. He’d insisted on bringing his old beat-up brown teddy bear along with him on this trip. His father had given it to him when he was a baby. She’d packed the bear away last summer and Joey had seemed fine without it. But then he had regressed. Now he carried it everywhere with him. Joey was the reason she was anxious to move out of Nome. She’d do battle with a thousand kings to see him happy again.

“There’s a chair beside the restroom,” she told her son. He’d used the side of the road earlier so she knew he didn’t have to go. “Can you sit there quietly for a minute by yourself?”

He thought a minute and nodded.

Joey was timid in new situations now, but a small business like this café did not likely have a separate area to wait inside the restroom. He’d be fine sitting there for a bit. Especially when he had his teddy bear in his hands.

“Come with me, then,” she said and they began to walk across the café.

She hadn’t planned to bring Joey with her for this trip. But last week she’d gotten an anonymous letter telling her that someone was going to kidnap him if she didn’t find the forty thousand dollars her ex-husband, Victor, had stolen from his drug supplier and return it. She couldn’t tell if the letter was a warning or a threat, from a friend or a foe. She didn’t doubt that Victor could have made off with some money. He’d led a double life in the years they’d been married, selling drugs when she’d thought he’d been working on a fishing boat, and she believed he would steal from anyone who was handy. But she didn’t know about any money and certainly not where it was. The police had come to search their house looking for drug money before Victor had left. They hadn’t found anything then and they had searched Victor again before he’d flown out of Nome.

Scarlett arrived at the door to the restroom and settled Joey on the chair. Then she leaned down and adjusted her son’s shirt before kissing the top of his head. He was precious to her. She patted the stuffed bear a little awkwardly. She noticed there was a torn seam along the back of the bear, a safety pin keeping it all together. Her grandmother must have put it there, but Scarlett decided to mend the bear when they got back to Nome. It was important to her son.

“Wait here for me,” she told Joey as she straightened. “I won’t be long.”

She wasn’t sure she’d leave her son outside if they were back in Nome.

She’d taken the letter to the police and they’d tried contacting Victor at the Florida phone number he’d left for her, but it had been disconnected. The police in Florida cruised by his address and said the place looked deserted. She had no contact information for Victor’s new wife. The officer finally said the letter was likely a prank after she admitted some older boys in town had started to knock on the door of their house when Scarlett was at work and taunt Joey, telling him he needed to come outside and face them. They’d even joked about him and his teddy bear, so Scarlett knew they had seen her son outside playing. Joey’s grandmother was always in the house with the boy, though, and when she appeared in the doorway, the boys would scatter. Still, Joey was clearly anxious about them.

They weren’t in Nome, though, Scarlett told herself as she turned the knob and opened the door to the restroom. They were perfectly safe here in Dry Creek.

She wasn’t inside the restroom for long, but when she opened the door to come out she glanced down at where Joey was supposed to be and realized that he was not there.

Scarlett gasped and frantically stepped out into the main part of the café.

“Joey,” she called.

“I’m here, Mommy,” her son said.

She turned and followed the sound of his voice until she was facing the Jacobson men. Joey was sitting on a chair at their table, his legs barely touching the floor and a half-emptied glass of water in front of him. The stuffed bear was lying on its back next to him, seemingly forgotten on the top of the table.

Hunter stood as she walked toward them.

“The boy was thirsty,” Hunter said by way of explanation before she reached them. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared.” Scarlett denied it without thinking how ridiculous that sounded.

“Any mother would be,” she added defensively.

Hunter nodded. “Of course.”

“Please, join us,” the older man said from where he sat. “I’m Colin Jacobson.”

He was the one she’d come to see, she reminded herself. Her grandmother had whispered to her that Colin was good-looking and Scarlett still saw vestiges of it around his eyes. He didn’t look like what she expected, though. His face seemed soft and almost wistful.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she said, taking a step closer. She’d talk to him and ignore Hunter. She needed to be brave herself so Joey could see how it was done. The boy had grown more anxious since his father had left them. Scarlett knew life was not always easy. She’d lost both her parents when she was young, her mother to cancer and her father to desertion. That was probably whey she’d hung in with Victor for six long years. But she couldn’t believe there was any purpose in living a life of hesitation and fear. She suspected, though, that her ex-husband had taunted Joey about not being brave enough. Maybe that was the reason for his anxiety. He’d always wanted to please his father.

Scarlett pulled a chair away from the table.

She couldn’t help glancing over at Hunter again. This man certainly didn’t seem to have any fear in him. He still had his hands resting on the back of the wood-spindled chair in front of him and his steel-gray eyes were defiant and unrepentant. His face had a faint red mark on the left side. He wore a rancher’s long-sleeved shirt, open at the neck, and there was another red mark along his collarbone. They looked like burn scars. She could tell by the damp patches on his shirt that he had already done a full day’s work before coming here.

She gave the man a frosty look before she sat at the table.

She had patted a damp paper towel over her face when she was in the restroom, but she still wasn’t comfortable. It was hot in here, too. Her turquoise silk suit jacket felt tight across the shoulders and the humidity was making it worse. The band of her grandmother’s old engagement ring stuck to her skin as it hung around her neck on a chain. She probably looked younger than her thirty-two years of age.

She’d made a mistake in dressing so formally, she realized. Denim jeans and Alaskan-made mukluks on her feet would have made this man look at her with more respect. Her fishing knife strapped to her belt wouldn’t have hurt, either, especially since anyone could tell it had seen plenty of use. At least the ring gave her confidence. Since childhood she had known her grandmother could always pawn that ring if times became too hard. It had been their family’s safety net.

“Can I order you something to drink or eat?” the older man asked as he smiled.

“Thank you,” Scarlett said. “We’ve come a long way. Coffee and maybe some milk for my son would be nice.”

She hadn’t had time to buy breakfast when they’d gotten off the plane in Billings this morning. She’d given Joey a breakfast bar and an apple, but she hadn’t eaten anything.

She finally noticed that Hunter was standing and looking at her son. “You must be hungry. Would you like a muffin with your milk? Taking a trip always makes me want to eat something.”

Joey had always been shy with strangers, but he was so keyed up that he nodded vigorously. “We flew in a plane. It took a long time.”

Hunter stepped around the table and crouched until he was at eye level with the boy. “I know. Nome, Alaska. My grandfather told me. Did you like the plane ride?”

Scarlett stood, ready to demand Hunter stop talking to her son. But she realized she had no good reason. She doubted her son would say anything more in any event. Joey was much more likely to talk to a woman than a man. Still, she stayed by her son’s chair.

Joey shrugged, his eyes cast down at the floor.

Scarlett expected Hunter to move away since it was obvious her son had finished talking.

Then she heard Joey’s voice. “My dad flew away in a plane. We watched him. He’s going to Florida ’cause he’s got himself a new boy. He ain’t ever coming back unless...”

Scarlett was so astonished she barely noticed when Hunter looked up at her with panic in his eyes. At least he didn’t move away. Victor would have.

“He says he’ll come back if I’m a brave boy,” Joey continued, his voice small and his eyes downcast. “But I’ve tried and he doesn’t come.”

Joey had been eager to fly to see his father last month when the man had called and left a message asking him to do that. Joey’s father had even said he should bring his teddy bear, which made Scarlett think he was apologizing for the hard time he’d given Joey before he’d left. It hadn’t made any difference, though; her ex-husband had never returned the call after she’d left him a return message saying they could work out a trip.

Finally she’d realized the invitation had been one more false promise from her ex.

Joey had refused to talk to the grief therapist she’d taken him to. She had no idea why he was telling a stranger all of this, especially a man.

She didn’t know what to do. But finally she nodded encouragingly at Hunter. She’d work with anyone who made Joey talk about his feelings.

“And are you brave?” Hunter asked. “Like your father said?”

Scarlett almost kicked him in the shins to make him stop talking. She was quite sure that’s not what someone should say to Joey. If the man said anything about how Joey needed to be a man and stop being afraid, she’d take her son out to the car and head back to the airport.

“Sometimes I’m afraid,” Joey admitted, his eyes lifting to the man’s face. “I didn’t look out the window of the airplane. We were too high. I didn’t want to fall.”

Hunter nodded.

“My dad says I’ll fall lots if I do stuff and it’ll hurt.”

Joey was watching Hunter intently.

Scarlett wished she had Victor in front of her right now. She’d give him a piece of her mind. On the one hand he’d made her son afraid and then he’d scolded him for not being brave enough.

“Maybe it won’t hurt too badly though,” Hunter said as though weighing the question.

“You won’t ever fall,” Scarlett interrupted with some force. She didn’t want Joey to be any more afraid than he was. She didn’t want him to think he might have to survive a tumble.

“My dad wouldn’t like it if I was afraid,” Joey persisted. “He says I’m a scaredy-cat. Not like the other boy. That one’s brave. The boy in Florida.”

Scarlett held her breath. Victor had told her that he’d had a son with the ex-girlfriend he was planning to marry. She hadn’t known he’d also told Joey.

“Sometimes men say things they shouldn’t,” Hunter said and patted Joey on the shoulder. “That doesn’t mean they don’t...uh—value you.”