Alaskan Sweethearts (4 page)

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.”

“He doesn’t know what value means,” Scarlett said, her voice desperate. Her son had finally opened up to someone and it would be nice if the man’s response made sense to him and was supportive in some measure.

She wasn’t sure she could hope for anything more from a man like Hunter.

“You’re a good boy,” the man said, obviously trying to say the right words. “Things will work out. You’ll see.”

Joey nodded vigorously as though he agreed. “I’m going to get a new house. And a dog, too.”

Maybe a dog would at least make him stop carrying around that old stuffed bear, Scarlett thought. Her son looked at her sideways and Scarlett bent to pull him into a hug. “We’ll have to see about the dog.”

She hadn’t realized that by going down to her son’s level she would be so close to Hunter, who remained at Joey’s side. She could smell pine and wondered if it was from aftershave or if the man had been around trees. She looked up and his eyes were riveted on her face. All she could do was stare back at him. To her surprise, he looked concerned.

“My dog will be a collie, just like Lassie on the TV show,” Joey said as he twisted out of her arms and turned to the man, his father forgotten for the moment. “She was a real nice dog.”

The man took his eyes off Scarlett and focused on her son.

“That she was,” Hunter agreed. Then he grinned.

The look on his face took her breath away. She sensed it was uncommon for him, but quiet delight showed in his eyes and smile.

“She never left her boy.” Joey nodded as he kept talking to the man. “Not when he needed her. She always found him.”

“I have some cats like that,” the man said, his tone solemn. “Very loyal.”

Joey was watching Hunter, and Scarlett wished she knew what to say. Of all the men to pour his heart out to, Joey had picked the wrong one. That man did not want them here. That fact would wound her son when he realized it. No one wanted to be rejected by their hero. She almost promised a dog just to get her son’s attention away from him.

“My dad doesn’t have a dog or a cat,” Joey finally whispered to Hunter as though he had secretly outwitted his father. “He doesn’t have my teddy bear, either.”

Then his smile crumbled and defiance mixed with despair. “My dad’s coming back someday, though. I’ll be his boy again then.”

Scarlett could only rub his back.

“Your father’s a fool,” Hunter murmured, all traces of humor having left his face.

But Joey was looking at her now.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’ll do everything we can to get a dog.”

Hunter looked directly at her again. The compassion in his eyes was her undoing. It was as if he knew. It was mostly for her son, but she knew the loss deeply herself. She had trusted her husband—had thought she’d known him—and he’d been someone completely different. When the grief subsided, all that remained was the knowledge that she’d been duped.

The tears in her eyes blurred her vision so she didn’t see Hunter reach out until he brushed a tear off her cheek. She felt the imprint of his thumb long after the tear had dried.

“You don’t need to worry,” she said more sharply than was warranted. “I learned my lesson.”

She didn’t want him to think she was as vulnerable as Joey. She would think twice before she got close to a man again. This one might know more ways to soften up a woman than most, but he was set against her. He had a purpose in what he did.

Hunter rose and offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet.

The waitress had already set two more cups of coffee and a glass of milk on the table, along with a plate of warm pumpkin muffins.

Scarlett sat and stirred some cream into her coffee. It steadied her.

At least I’m done with Victor,
she thought. When he’d left, he’d said he wanted Joey to come visit him, but that had not happened despite his phone call. She doubted he really wanted visitation rights. He was going back to his real family, he had informed them, as though she and Joey were cheap imposters. The old girlfriend had found him through the internet and he had proposed marriage to her before he’d even mentioned divorce to Scarlett.

“It’s time for Joey and me to look to the future,” she said, putting as much optimism into her voice as she could. “I’m ready to see the contract your grandfather has drawn up.”

“Contract?” Hunter asked.

She nodded. The divorce had wiped out her savings while she supported herself and her son without Victor’s help. The cost of living in Nome was high. A loaf of whole-wheat bread was five dollars. A can of fruit juice, eight. After Victor left, she’d started working the counter in a sandwich shop and taking a business course at the local extension college. She hadn’t been able to go back to guiding wilderness trips since some of them were overnight and she’d had no one to take care of Joey. She usually had to fly to Fairbanks or the base of Mount McKinley to meet up with the groups in the summer. The trips were all several days long. In the winter, only the Bering Sea and a nearby native village served as wilderness destinations.

When Colin Jacobson had written to her grandmother and offered this land, it had seemed perfect for them all. Her grandmother had health issues and could live more comfortably with her and Joey in this house than the one they had now. They could raise chickens and maybe grow vegetables. She knew how to can food and chop wood if necessary. They wouldn’t have to pay rent. She was ready for the challenge of making a living for her son and grandmother on this piece of property with its modest dwelling and distant neighbors. Maybe her sisters would even come and live nearby. It could be paradise.

“You can’t really be thinking of giving them that land?” Hunter’s voice carried and she realized he had stood again and was looking at his grandfather. The two men had been talking together in low voices while she’d let her coffee cool. “You’re going to make things worse when you pull out of the deal.”

Everything was so quiet in the café that the sound of the clock ticking in the far corner was like someone hammering. All of the other diners had stopped talking and were staring at Hunter and then Scarlett.

She should be able to endure any kind of scrutiny. But she could see by this man’s clenched jaw that he’d noticed the interest, too, and was no more comfortable with it than she was.

“What’s the angle?” Hunter demanded as he scowled at his grandfather.

“Well, it’s not just a straight-out gift,” the old man confessed. “I told them they need to farm the land for at least five years or they lose the place. But that only makes sense. And they need to give up claim to that gold mine I took from them. My conscience won’t rest easy until I’ve finally paid for the blasted thing.”

“How are they going to work the land?” Hunter asked as though he’d found the flaw in the whole offer. “If they can’t do it, it all goes back to you. Is that it?”

Scarlett rose. “Don’t worry. I’m going to work the place. I’m not giving it up.”

“You?” The man turned to her, astonishment on his face.

“I can drive a tractor,” she told him. She liked physical work.

Hunter looked at her with pity.

“Have you ever eaten dust all day?” he asked. “It’s not like turning the motor on one of those things at the county fair. Or riding around on a fancy lawn mower. You’ll get your hands dirty. Your shoulders will ache. Your face will blister. Your fingernails will be ragged. You’ll have dust up your nose.”

“My nose has known worse,” she said.

He arched one of his dark eyebrows at her in disbelief.

“I’ve sledded across the frozen Bering Sea in the middle of the winter with a team of dogs,” she informed him. “The air was so cold, my nose pinched together every time I took a breath. Some dust would have been a relief. I kept a scarf wrapped around my face. I was taking a medical group to the Russian side. It was bitter cold and storming.”

They’d almost died—would have done so with a less determined guide—but she had pulled them back to Nome through sheer will power. At that time in her life, she hadn’t been afraid of anything. Nurturing a bit of dry ranch land in Montana would be child’s play next to that.

Suddenly, Hunter reached down, picked up the gray Stetson sitting on the edge of the table and set it on his head. Then he looked at her. “You and I need to talk.”

He stepped around the table and motioned toward the door. “Joey will be fine in here with my grandfather—at least until he’s old enough to crack open his piggy bank. We’ll have some privacy on the porch.”

His voice was deep. The voice of a man in command of a situation. Hunter didn’t even look around as he walked toward the door. His back was ramrod-straight, his shoulders square and determined. Her grandmother had said the Jacobson men were all thieves, scoundrels and reprobates, without a conscience to guide any of them. She’d said it with a secret smile that Scarlett was just beginning to understand, though.

The Jacobson men were used to being able to enthrall women. Hunter probably thought he could give her some compliments and a couple of smiles and she would leave without the property she’d come to claim. Well, she wasn’t going to let this man stop her—even though she hadn’t exactly been subject to the compliment part so far.

She followed him anyway.

He opened the door for her and shut it after he stepped out. She frowned when she looked at the sky from the porch of the café. She knew storms and one was coming.

“How much money will it take to make you go away?” Hunter asked when they had both turned to each other. His gray eyes were cold as metal.

“Are you trying to pay me off?” she asked incredulously. He apparently didn’t feel he needed to waste any charm on her when cold hard cash would do. “Even more than my travel expenses?”

“If that’s what it takes. Yes.”

“I’m staying.”

A flash of lightning ripped across the sky and the crash of thunder followed close behind.

Hunter looked startled, but she figured he had his answer with celestial backup.

“And I don’t appreciate someone thinking I’m that flighty,” she added. “I know my own mind and it’s not for sale.”

“Flighty?” he asked with a smile that was almost charming. “I don’t think—”

She wasn’t ready to listen to any insincere apology.

“I need to return to Alaska on Monday, but I’ll be back with a loaded truck before you know it,” Scarlett promised. She resisted the urge to poke her finger at him even though she felt her breath catch at the thought. She had to admit he did have an appealing chest, one worthy of a king.

She reminded herself that she needed to make a decision about moving soon, but he didn’t need to know she was pressed for time. It wouldn’t be long before the Bering Sea would start to freeze over and she wouldn’t be able to send her belongings by ship down to Seattle. There were no roads that led to Nome, so driving out was not possible. Everything entered the small town by either ship or plane. The freight cost for even a portion of her household things would be several thousand dollars so she’d have to sell or give away most of what she had.

She decided he didn’t need to know any of that; he’d just try to argue her out of coming. She’d waited her whole life for a chance like this and she wasn’t going to back down now.

The porch had only a short overhang for a roof. She leaned back and looked up at the storm that seemed to have applauded her decision. Her triumph was cut short. Her breath felt short. And she was dizzy. She reached around for something to hold on to and found nothing but Hunter’s hand.

She almost didn’t take it and then she started to fall.

She wondered if he would catch her since he didn’t want her here in the first place.

Chapter Two

S
carlett stood on the porch, although not under her own power, and took a deep breath. Hunter had moved a step closer and now had his arm loosely around her, holding her in place. And if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, she wanted to walk away but couldn’t. She feared that she might sway and fall if she tried.

She was silent, concentrating on standing and watching the sky turn darker around them. She was going to ask Hunter about the coming storm, but she needed all of her breath still.

They remained quiet. Hunter was staring down the street as though he was gathering his thoughts, too. If he didn’t look so foreboding, she would wonder if he was shy. The asphalt beside the café sent up waves of heat, even in this breaking humidity. It was the only street in town although a few dirt roads branched off it.

“I didn’t have breakfast,” she finally admitted by way of explanation.

“Or dinner last night, I’d guess,” the man added as he turned her to face him. She could finally see his eyes and there was no threat in them. Mostly he just looked weary. Her ex-husband would be accusing her by now of being deliberately foolish in a bid for attention.

“I got something for Joey to eat.” She defended herself against the words he hadn’t spoken. “But we were running late and I wasn’t hungry.”

“Nervous most likely,” he said, a wry twist to his mouth. “And I expect I didn’t help when I gave you a hard time and demanded you leave.”

She felt his arm tighten briefly around her shoulders, almost as though he was giving her a hug in apology. She wished she could relax and sink into his arms to accept it, but she couldn’t. Most likely it was a trap.

“I survived,” Scarlett said quietly. She finally felt strong enough to take a step away and did so. There was a place in her life for softness, but it wasn’t in business and certainly was not in negotiations with a Jacobson.

She looked up and noticed something had shut down in Hunter’s eyes, but she couldn’t worry about that now.

“It’s the only option, you know,” he said finally. “My grandfather isn’t serious. You need to leave.”

“I don’t think I will.”

She needed a minute to steady herself and she’d prefer he didn’t know she was still weak. So she glanced at the street and looked at the dozen wooden-framed houses in various muted colors scattered up and down the road. Each one had a clothesline behind it and a few were in use with sheets hanging down. Her grandmother would like that, she thought. It was too cold most months in Nome to dry anything outside because wet clothes would freeze. She wondered when someone inside the house was going to notice that it was starting to rain and the sheets needed to be taken inside, but she supposed there was time yet. At the end of the street was the church she’d noticed earlier. Freshly painted white, it stood out like a beacon in the town. Several pickups, their mud flaps dirty, were parked next to it and she suspected there was some prayer meeting going on this morning. Her grandmother would like that, too.

For the first time since Scarlett had driven into Dry Creek, she realized how keyed up she had been. She hadn’t really relaxed and looked around until now. She liked what she saw. The town was lived in but not fancy. Even the church, though obviously well kept, wasn’t intimidating. There were a couple of willow trees in the fenced yards of a few houses, but there were no lawns, although she did see an old ceramic garden troll standing on the ground beside someone’s door. Dried tufts of grass stuck out from the dirt randomly in yards and wild areas alike. She didn’t see any tumbleweeds, but it looked like the place to find them later in the fall.

Everything was worn; the vehicles by the café were obviously used.

“Which one is yours?” she asked, and Hunter turned to her.

She pointed at the pickups.

“The black one with the scrape on the front fender,” he answered, looking at her. “Got it when I patched some fence in the back pasture. I had to get the barbed wire up quick because we were moving a herd of cattle the next day—Red Angus. They manage to find their way out of any place where the fence wire sags.”

She nodded. She could hear the satisfaction in his voice. He didn’t sound like a wealthy man who did nothing but oversee ranch hands and attend auctions. Her grandmother had insisted they must be living the high life somewhere. The older woman had always claimed Colin had gotten rich off selling the mine. As it turns out, he’d kept the deed.

“You’ve seen the cat that’s riding along in my pickup today,” Hunter said. “Joey might like to play with her later. She’s not a dog, but she’s a good cat.”

“Do you have any other pets?” Scarlett asked.

“No. And the cats aren’t pets. They keep the barn mice away.”

“Oh.”

“I think they’d feel demoted if they were called pets,” he offered then with a grin. “They’re pretty independent. Working animals like the milk cow.”

Scarlett decided her grandmother had been wrong about the wealth of this family. Besides, local history told her there had been no big gold strikes in the years the elder Jacobson had been there. Maybe it was just her grandmother’s recollections. She had talked about Colin sometimes and always with an odd look on her face, as if she remembered him as bigger than life. And as though she still expected him to come back—maybe even hoped he would.

The Murphy women were all fools when it came to men, Scarlett told herself in disgust, trying to shake off her mood. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Regardless of what her grandmother felt and how much money Colin had or didn’t have, the payment due her family was legitimate. The Jacobsons owed them. And she intended to collect.

Her vision was still a touch blurry and she licked her lips for the moisture. She put her hand up to her forehead. She’d had too much heat as well as too little food. No one had told her that the only car left on the lot in Billings was the last to be rented because the air conditioner didn’t work. Of course, it would not have made any difference if she had known. She would have taken it; she’d had to get here and she would have traveled in an ox cart to do it if necessary.

They were quiet for another moment and Scarlett told herself she was okay. She felt better out in the open air instead of inside the café.

“My grandfather is a cheat,” Hunter finally confessed as he stood there looking down the street with her again. “I don’t like it, but there you have it.”

He turned sideways to look at her, faint embarrassment on his face. He was obviously reluctant to admit what he had told her.

“And you?”

“People treat us like we all are crooks. The whole family,” he added. “But my brothers and I aren’t.”

She tried to answer, but she couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t work.

“I thought you should know,” he added, and she saw his eyes suddenly narrow.

Scarlett swayed then and the porch started to spin. She tried to blink the fuzziness away, but it didn’t leave. She reached out to steady herself but there was nothing there again except the man’s arm. She clutched him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Hunter asked as he moved in to catch her.

It took her some time to catch her breath.

“Of course I am,” she finally managed to say. She still held his arm, but she told herself it wasn’t necessary. “I’m a Murphy.”

She had gladly taken back her maiden name after her divorce.

Hunter’s cotton shirtsleeve hid hard cords of muscle in his forearm and he kept her upright with no visible effort. She felt the muscles flex as he moved to better support her.

“How hot was it in that car of yours?”

She kept herself upright long enough to glare at him.

“I’m fine.”

He grunted in disbelief, turning her slightly and guiding her toward a weathered wooden stool that sat on the edge of the porch. She hadn’t noticed the paint-spattered thing until now, it blended so well with everything around it. For a moment she saw the legendary Jacobson charm her grandmother had spoken about. Hunter had a fine growth of black whiskers on his chiseled face. His scars were lighter when not in the direct sun. His eyes held a knowing sympathy. His lips were smiling. His manner beckoned her toward him.

She sat and he went to his pickup, coming back with a bottle of water and a nut bar of some kind. “Here. Drink and eat.”

She did so and she felt better.

“You need water in this kind of heat,” he said.

She nodded.

“Soda doesn’t work,” he added.

A few minutes later she stood. She wasn’t going to lose out on the chance to claim this land for her family just because she had a little problem with dizziness. Hunter kept looking at her anxiously, though, and he had his hand out to catch her if she should fall.

“Careful now,” he said.

“I’m fine. Strong, too. I’ll be able to work that farm your grandfather has for us.”

“I’ll admit I think you could do it,” he said, facing her and then taking a breath. “But you won’t have the chance. My grandfather can’t be trusted with a contract. Something is wrong with it even if we don’t know what it is yet.”

He kept his voice so low she had to lean closer to hear. She half thought he’d said that about her being able to do it just to sweeten her up for the rest. His dark eyes looked serious in the shadow of his hat brim.

He could be lying, though.

“If your grandfather is such a cheat, why isn’t he in jail?” she asked.

“One of these days he’s going to step over the line and I won’t be able to bail him out. Then he will be. I don’t know what we’ll do then.”

Something about the tone of his voice made her suspect he was telling the truth. She heard his reluctance and his shame. This was hard for him.

“It could even be today,” Hunter added.

Scarlett pondered that for a moment. “I don’t see how. I’m not paying him anything for the land. I read the contract he sent. It sounded solid. I even had my baby sister, Carly, who’s a paralegal—well, almost a paralegal—take a look at it and she thought it was fine. My other sister, Fiona, thought it looked good, too. She’s taken over my wilderness guide business, so she knows contracts. It’s hard to cheat when everything is laid out in black-and-white. Besides, I don’t trust anyone these days, so I can’t be taken in.”

He grunted. “You should have your attorney look at something like that. People can twist things and still be legal. You need to protect yourself.”

She didn’t say anything.

“You mentioned that you had an attorney,” he reminded her. “At least you said you’d sue.”

“I was bluffing.”

“You need to get one, then.”

“Attorneys cost money.” Scarlett felt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t meant to tell him she was broke, but she supposed she had.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” Hunter replied and then looked down. “Things like this never turn out good with my grandfather involved.”

“He seems like a nice old man,” she said. “Looks a lot like Santa Claus.”

“He could look like the Easter bunny,” Hunter agreed, his voice sounding tired, but at least he was making eye contact with her again. “Doesn’t mean he can hop worth beans. He is a nice man, but he should stay home and...and play solitaire or something. He’s past ninety. What’s he doing things like this for?”

Scarlett suddenly felt a jolt of empathy for Hunter. He was worried about his grandfather doing himself harm. She knew how that felt after her concerns about her grandmother. The older woman no longer listened to reason, either, but Scarlett had to try. When children lost their parents and were raised by their grandparents, the older ones were everything to them. She would have reached over and touched Hunter’s arm in understanding, but he was staring past her, down the road again.

“My granny told me to watch my step around your grandfather,” she said to comfort him. “That if he couldn’t sweet-talk me out of something, he’d trick me into giving it to him. But I’m not going to let him have a chance to do either. A person has to trust the con man before she can be swindled and I don’t trust anyone but my grandmother—and maybe my two sisters.”

Hunter looked at her for a moment, his eyes changing from caution to astonishment.

“You have to trust more people than that,” he finally said. “Believe me, I’ve tried—” He stopped and took a breath. “What I mean is that you have neighbors. Friends. A woman needs—”

She shook her head. “Being a woman has nothing to do with it. I don’t see why I need to trust anyone.”

“Being a mother means you do, though,” he said. Then he paused for a minute, just looking at her.

“I’m surprised you don’t have Joey accompanied by more than a teddy bear,” he added finally, shaking his head. “I’d think you’d have guard dogs.”

She acknowledged his words. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“Surely your grandmother...” he began.

“She’s the reason I haven’t gathered those guard dogs,” Scarlett said, relieved to tell the man what kind of a person he was up against. “She believes no one is so bad that they can’t change. It agitates her if I say otherwise.”

“I know a woman who says the same—that with the good Lord’s help any of us can start over.”

“Hallelujah,” Scarlett said drily. So he had a woman. She should have known.

“She taught me in Sunday school when I was a boy,” Hunter added. “Mrs. Hargrove is her name. I stopped going to church for years, but I always remembered what she told me and a year ago I made my peace with God and started going again. My grandfather and I both did.”

Scarlett tried hard not to be pleased that Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t a romantic interest. Still, she didn’t want any misunderstandings.

“I’m not much on church myself,” she said. “I still believe in God, but it just doesn’t add up right. God does let people down. And, sometimes, He refuses to help those who ask. I know. It’s happened to me. What kind of God is that?”

Hunter smiled wryly. “He’s not a celestial vending machine, if that’s what you mean. I know that much. You don’t just put in a prayer and wait for the request you ordered to come shooting out. Life is more difficult than that. God is more complex. We are more flawed.”