Authors: Tiffinie Helmer
Mel showed up for Rinka’s appointment with the vet just before lunch. The vet took one look at Rinka and offered Mel his congratulations.
“Puppies?” Mel looked to Rinka and her growing belly. “How did that happen?”
Dr. Chernov laughed. “I’d imagine it happened the same way it always does.”
“No. That isn’t what I meant. We live out on The Edge. There are no other dogs around except…Kuspuck. Why, that dirty rotten mutt.”
Dr. Chernov laughed again. “If Kuspuck fathered her pups, can’t say they’ll be anything to look at, but they will make decent sled dogs.” The good doctor chuckled again as he gave Mel instruction on what to do when the time came.
“I can’t deliver puppies.”
No freaking way
. “I’ll just bring Rinka in when she goes into labor.”
“Chances are there won’t be enough time. Don’t worry. Rinka will be delivering the puppies. Most likely she’ll just want you close by when the time comes.” He went into more detail on what Mel could expect and how to handle any problems that might arise.
Mel’s head was reeling when she and Rinka entered the Salty Dawg Saloon. What was she going to do with a litter of pups?
“Hey there, Mel. How’s The Edge treating you?” Old Clyde hollered from behind the bar. His stained apron covered a portly belly that disguised a body made for serious head-pounding. Many a drunken patron had foolishly discounted the seasoned sailor.
Mel saddled up to the bar, and Clyde poured her a Dr. Pepper. “Just fine, and you Clyde, how’s things?”
“Mighty fine. Good crop of tourists this season. You look as if you’ve been dealt a blow. You sure you don’t want something stronger than Dr. Pepper?”
Always.
“This will do me fine.” She huffed. “I just found out I’m having puppies.”
Clyde stopped drying the glass in his hand and then chuckled. “I take it Rinka’s the one actually having the pups?”
“I’m not ready to have puppies, Clyde.”
“Well, it’s been my experience we’re never ready for something like that. I’m sure Rinka will do fine.”
Mel looked at Rinka curled up at the base of her barstool, without a care in the world. Wish she could react to the news so nonchalantly, but then Mel figured Rinka had probably known what was happening way before now.
Cache joined her at the bar. “Hey.” He smiled and didn’t look to have a care in the world either.
“Where’d you come from?” Mel wasn’t sure she was up to dealing with Cache. With the news from the vet, and her sleepless nights, her defenses were diminished. She looked around. “Where’s your sidekick?”
“He saw a coffee shop and fell over himself with joy. He’s worshipping their espresso machine as we speak.” Cache took in her expression, and his brow furrowed. “What’s happened?”
“Rinka’s pregnant.” The words still sounded unreal to her ears. Rinka was only three, still a puppy herself. How was she going to be a mom?
“That’s great.”
“
Great?
No, it isn’t great. What if something happens to her?”
Cache covered her hand with his. “Nothing’s going to happen. Everything will be fine.”
Gazing into Cache’s smoky gray eyes, something deep down whispered that she could trust him. It unnerved her. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been able to lean on someone else. Cache had her wanting to lean. Being so independent, the awareness of giving herself into the care of someone else should scare or worry her. Wonders of all wonders, it didn’t.
Mel gave Cache a wobbly smile.
He smoothed a hand down her back, which had her wanting to arch and purr like a cat, and then he turned to Clyde. “What have you got that we can celebrate with?”
“Mel, here, has her drink of choice. What’s yours?”
Something registered in Cache’s expression, and he said, “If it’s good enough for Mel, it’s good enough for me.” He must have said the right thing for Clyde smiled, his gold cap on his chipped front tooth shining.
“Coming right up, and how about I get a saucer of milk for the new momma?”
“I think she’d like that,” Mel said. The stress of the vet’s visit rolled off her shoulders. “Also two orders of fish-and-chips.” She turned to Cache. “You have to try Clyde’s cooking. I tried to get him over to The Edge, but he won’t budge from The Salty Dawg.”
Clyde scoffed. “I’m not crazy enough to hole up in that isolated place. I need civilization around me.” He poured another glass from the soda machine.
“Civilization, huh?” Cache said, looking around the dingy old saloon as though to say, not much of it to be found in this spot.
“Hey, this is a happening place,” Clyde said, setting down Cache’s drink.
“I don’t doubt it.” Cache smirked. “If Hank and Sarah could see me now, they’d give me a string of ‘I told you so’s’.” Cache sobered for a moment and Mel felt his sadness, but then he leaned onto the bar resting on folded arms and gave a far off smile. “They’d find me here, in the wilds of Alaska, fitting.”
“How so?”
“They never thought I belonged in New York.” He nodded his head. “Guess they were right after all.” He clicked his glass with hers and then took a swallow of the Dr. Pepper. He coughed, gasped, and looked at her in horror. “How do you drink this stuff?”
“The sugar will probably have your body sighing in relief after all that fiber you’ve been stuffing into it. Live a little. I promise, it won’t hurt.”
The words echoed through her.
Did she take her own advice and live a little or stay safe behind the wall that had always protected her?
She had a feeling the choice was already out of her hands.
Cache settled on the sofa in the great room, nursing his cup of hot tea watching Mel play hostess. Her interaction with her guests, as mug-up was served, had everyone sharing what they’d experienced in Homer. The buzz of voices flowed over him and complimented the crackling fire in the fireplace. The smells of wood smoke, hot cocoa, and homemade sweets made him feel comfortable, and he sunk deeper into the leather cushions and let relaxation seep into his bones.
Rinka lay curled at his feet. The Whitneys sipped their drinks with their heads close together studying a map. Tom stuffed cake into his mouth all the while entertaining Emily with some story that had her engrossed in every word he said. Nicole kept glancing Emily’s way, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. David couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Nicole. Quentin and Jonah filled a plate and then went running upstairs, excited over some electronic game.
If only he could keep the same energy level those boys seemed to have in abundance.
Linnet offered platters with goodies, while Mel went around refilling empty cups. He waited patiently for her to finally turn his direction.
That loose walk of hers rolled his way, and he felt blood rush south.
“I see Rinka has found a nesting spot,” she said, indicating the ball of fur warming his feet.
“Yep. Many a woman has curled up at my feet.”
“Let me guess.” She cocked a hip. “They’ve all been bitches?”
He laughed. The woman had a mouth on her that he’d like to take advantage of. “Can you take a minute?”
Mel glanced around at the group that seemed to be dormant for the moment.
“I guess so.” She set the pot down on the tiled-topped coffee table, and then joined him on the couch.
“What did you think of Homer today?” she asked, kicking off her boots and curling her legs under her.
He studied her before answering. He didn’t want to make idle conversation. The need to know everything about her was surpassing his desire to tell her story.
“I liked Homer. It’s the kind of place where you could lose yourself and only be found when you wanted to be.”
She chuckled, the sound stroking his already heightened senses. “You just described the best thing about Alaska.”
“What keeps you here?” he asked. Her eyes shuttered, just as he’d expected, though the disappointment that came with it surprised him.
She took a few seconds before answering. “I like my privacy, and Alaska affords me that.”
“If you value your privacy so much, why take in guests?”
She pondered him for a moment and then answered. “Guests pay the bills and keep me from going totally hermitville.”
“Do you ever miss city life?”
“Whenever I feel the need to throw off my hibernation all I have to do is head to Anchorage. The traffic alone drives me back to The Edge.”
He thought of New York and the constant throbbing of people moving like a nervous system on a sugar rush. He had to agree, sitting back and hearing the quiet was something to treasure.
“Do you miss having a family?” he asked.
Mel looked at Emily shooting daggers at Nicole and shook her head. “This summer, I have more family than I know what to do with.”
“What about children of your own? A husband?”
She shifted in her seat. “Someday.” A soft smile curved her lips. Then she glanced down at Rinka, and the smile disappeared. “First, I guess, I get to try my hand at puppies. Enough about me. What about you?” she asked, settling into the corner of the couch. “What’s your story?”
He figured he’d pushed enough for one day and was surprised at how far she’d let him go. “Not much to tell. Work has taken up most of my time. That’s going to change.”
“How so?”
“I guess you could say I’ve lost my ‘edge’.” He gave a crooked grin at the pun.
“So taking pictures doesn’t click your shutter anymore?”
“Maybe if I could get a certain person to pose for me…”
“Let me guess.” She lowered her head and looked at him from under her lashes. “Clothing would be optional?”
“Whatever would help you feel most comfortable. I haven’t experimented with nudes since college, but I’d be willing to try my hand at it again.”
She smirked. “I just bet you would.”
Their conversation had gone from friendly to flirtatious in a heartbeat, and his pulse followed suit. He leaned in and fingered the flannel of her man’s shirt, following the edge of the collar to the button opening at her breast bone. “I’d give anything for the chance to strip you out of this flannel again.” Her eyes liquefied. “I’ve thought of nothing but having you under me since that night.” Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath. “Come to my room. Be with me tonight.”
“Mel.” Sergei appeared in front of them breaking the mood.
Damn, there were too many people in this place. He wanted Mel to himself. Cache straightened and returned to his side of the couch.
Sergei arched his head in the direction of the kitchen.
Mel stood. “Cache, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, her voice a bit breathless.
He nodded, not having much choice in the matter, and watched in frustration as she slipped back into her boots and walked out of the room with Sergei. He knew she wanted him and felt as though she were about to take him up on his offer.
Or had he just hoped with all his heart she’d been about to?
C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN
And put a knife to your throat, if thou be a man given to appetite.