Love Finds You in North Pole, Alaska (18 page)

“Well, then it’s good you two have ten days of vacation time ahead of you. No need to get all caught up in sightseeing. You have the rest of your lives to go back and tour Orlando and Miami and the Keys.”

Olive inhaled a deep breath, her facial features finally relaxing. “Ri-i-ight,” she countered, laughing, “like we’ll have time for gallivanting once we open the bed-and-breakfast…”

“You’ll have to
make
time, because life’s too short. Mom and Dad’s lives ought to be evidence enough of that.”

She reached across the console to pat his hand. “Point taken. But let’s not forget that your grandma Stone gave birth to
one
genius.” And to emphasize the point, she aimed a pudgy forefinger at her own chest. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but let’s face it. If your daddy had been using his head for something other than to hold up his
ushanka
, he might never have started that—”

“I know, I know,” Bryce said dully. He’d heard it all before, from well-meaning friends and especially from Olive. He understood the frustration and confusion that prompted her occasional criticism of his parents—and to be honest, he shared her annoyance—but complaining about the way they’d died only added resentment to the mix. “Let’s not end the happiest day of your life on
that
sour note, okay?”

She shifted in the passenger seat. “Agreed.”

“Your stomach still bothering you?”

“It’s just a little gas bubble.”

“I’m sure it’ll pass,” they said in unison.

They looked at one another and burst into gales of laughter. Bryce didn’t know whether to blame nervous energy or blessed relief for the tears that filled his eyes, but he knew this much: he loved Olive like a mother and wanted to go right on sharing goofy jokes with her for many years to come.

Several months after his breakup with Debbie, he’d spent two weeks’ leave in North Pole, nursing his broken heart. She’d cornered him in Rudolph’s the day before he headed back to Afghanistan and wagged a maternal digit under his nose.

“How are you ever gonna see the girl God has chosen for you if you spend all your days staring at the toes of your combat boots?” Jabbing the accusatory finger into his shoulder, she’d added, “Get over yourself, nephew. Debbie wasn’t worth an ounce of salt even
before
she dumped you.”

Good ol’ Olive
, he mused, grinning as he steered his pickup alongside the shop,
never one to mince words
. And he wouldn’t have changed that about her, especially considering how quickly her no-nonsense lecture had roused him from self-pity, how it had given him hope that maybe someday he’d meet the girl of his dreams.

He pictured Sam’s pretty, smiling face.

“Thinkin’ about Sam?” she asked, unbuckling her seat belt.

Bryce nodded, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Give her time, nephew. If a dotty old broad like me can find true love, so can a half-blind, nearly-bald ex-marine.” As if to punctuate her belief, Olive gave him a gentle smack on the shoulder.

He turned off the motor and palmed his keys. “You think so?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve got calluses where my bony knees used to be, from praying the good Lord would send a big-hearted woman to whip you into shape!”

“And you think Sam’s the answer to that prayer?”

“You never know…”

Nodding, he watched her climb the steps to her apartment. “Meet you upstairs in ten,” he called to her. “If I don’t soon get out of this monkey suit, I’m liable to start swinging from the trees.”

He heard her laughter as he headed for his place, and he silently thanked God for the happy occasion of this day. Because if anyone had earned the chance to live a long, healthy, happy life with someone who loved her completely, it was his aunt Olive.

August in Alaska, Sam learned the hard way, could be unpredictable. A determined northern wind might turn seventy degrees to fifty with nothing more than a few well-timed gusts. Nearly three months in town had taught her that eighteen and twenty hours of sunshine each day didn’t necessarily mean
warm
sunshine, a fact that often sent unprepared tourists into North Pole’s shops in search of sweatshirts or jackets to ward off sudden chills.

She examined herself in the full-length mirror behind her bedroom door and adjusted the high collar of her tan suede blazer. She gave one last tug on the sleeves of the white flannel blouse under it and hoped her mother would be pleased to know that her only daughter had obeyed her “always be prepared” policy. But would Bryce approve, too?

Sam frowned. “What do you care what he thinks?” she asked her reflection. Maybe if she hadn’t put so much emphasis on what Joey thought, he wouldn’t have so easily blindsided her. She shook off the thought. If her dad saw her now, teary-eyed over a guy who broke her heart nearly a year ago, he’d shake his head and say, “Self-pity is self-defeating.” And if her brothers had been around to hear the gentle scolding, they’d chime in with their usual tough-guy advice.

And they’d be right, Sam decided, chin up and shoulders back as she picked up her purse. Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed the brown tweed scarf she’d knitted to pass the time during lonely nights in campgrounds between Maryland and Alaska.

Sam had set the alarm for five thirty to assure she’d be on time when Bryce pulled up out front in the borrowed van. “I’ll pick you up at o-eight-hundred,” he’d said before ducking into his apartment last night, and if her watch was correct, she’d have the satisfaction of waving hello as he parked at the curb. Hopefully, her confidence wouldn’t reflect itself on her face or in her posture, because smugness certainly wasn’t an attractive trait. Still, it felt good to know she’d beat the always-perfect, ever-punctual ex-marine!

As it turned out, Sam needn’t have worried about appearing smug, because the unmistakable sound of a purring motor greeted her even before she locked the front door. “How long have you been here?” she asked, climbing into the front seat.

“Oh, five minutes or so.” He grinned as she latched her seat belt. “You look cute today.”

She didn’t know which surprised her more—that he’d shown up fifteen minutes early or that she seemed powerless to control the quickening pace of her heartbeat. Then she reminded herself he’d said “cute” and not “gorgeous” or “beautiful”….

“So what’s the story about that giant Santa?” she asked, hoping to divert his attention from her flushed cheeks. “What is he, like, a hundred feet tall?”

“He seems that big to outsiders,” he answered, laughing, “but he’s really only forty-two feet high.”

“
Only
forty-two feet?”

“And nine hundred pounds of painted fiberglass. I can’t remember when they deactivated the motor and got rid of his pipe, but way back when, he puffed smoke, too.”

“Guess the Politically Correct police decided Santa was setting a bad example by smoking, eh?”

“I guess.”

“So, how long does a person have to live here before they aren’t considered ‘outsiders’?”

Laughing, he said, “Longer than four months.”

Had she only been in North Pole such a short time? And since she’d loved every minute, why had it seemed longer?

“Probably only feels like you’ve been here forever because it’s such a small town. With just a couple thousand people, it doesn’t take long to find your way around and get to know everybody.”

Nodding, Sam agreed. “I love the way everyone smiles and waves and asks how you’re doing. Not the way they ask it back East, mind you, but as if they really care about the answer.”

Bryce nodded as she continued.

“You have no idea how much I envy you, growing up in a place like this, where everybody knows everybody and—”

“There are times when all that familiarity isn’t a good thing.”

“Oh, c’mon,” she said as he pulled into the hotel parking lot, “how can it ever be bad?”

He grinned. “When every adult knows what time your parents set for your curfew and calls to tell them why you’re late. When you’re home on leave and your neighbors know when you’re due to report for duty as well as you do. When your fiancée dumps you to marry the marines, and you get sympathetic hugs from every old lady in town.” He parked the van under the protective roof above the hotel’s circular drive. “When people can tell, just by looking at your face, how much you hate listening to Christmas carols
all day long
.”

Sam giggled. “I think I get the picture.” Then, “But wait…does that mean you don’t like Christmas carols
either
?”

In place of an answer, Bryce tucked in one corner of his mouth.

“I don’t believe it!”

He shrugged and held both hands palms up.

“That’s just plain un-American! It’s like saying you hate ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’!”

A commotion in the hotel entry interrupted her, and Sam followed Bryce’s gaze. Duke’s son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids had gathered in the doorway, each tugging a rolling suitcase behind them. “Awfully nice of you to do this,” Duke Junior said.

Bryce swiveled the driver’s seat and stepped into the space behind it. “My pleasure,” he replied, sliding open the van’s side door. “Now that we’re family, it’ll be good having the half-hour drive to get better acquainted.”

Once the family had settled in and buckled up, Bryce aimed for the airport, pointing out landmarks along the way.

“There’s the Santa Claus House,” he said as they passed the red-and-white building, “home of the original ‘letter from Santa.’ Maybe next time you’re in town, we can do some proper sightseeing.”

“I want to come back when the aurora borealis are in full glow,” said Duke’s wife.

“Yeah, but in the meantime, you can get online and see some of the photos taken by our mayor pro tem. Kevin has won awards for his photography of the northern lights.”

“And wildlife, and Alaska’s gorgeous vistas, too,” Sam added. “I’m looking forward to seeing all of that, live and in person, same as you guys.”

“Is it true people here find moose in their yards on a regular basis?” Duke asked.

Bryce nodded, then said, “And if you leave your front door open, they’ll mosey right on in.” He shot her a playful grin. “Won’t they, Sam.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed good-naturedly. “He’s referring to the time I forgot to lock up the shop during my first week in town. He scared me into never repeating the mistake by warning me that the big hairy things just love wandering into homes uninvited.”

The family joined her merry laughter, and then Duke’s wife said, “So how long have you two been engaged?”

Sam held her breath, watching in stunned silence as Bryce straightened his back and swallowed. Hard. Growing up around seven older brothers taught her a few lessons about men, two of the most important being: they didn’t like surprises, and they didn’t like being put on the spot. So she cleared her throat and turned slightly in her seat. “Only engagement the two of us have,” she said, forcing a laugh, “involves me working for him.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I just assumed—” They didn’t get to hear what she’d assumed, because their kids started to bicker about space in the cramped back seat.

“So how long was your flight from Texas to Fairbanks?” Sam asked, grateful to change the subject.

“Oh, fifteen hours or so,” Duke replied, “not counting layovers.”

“I sure hope Olive and your dad had a smooth flight to Miami,” she said. “I remember her saying once that she isn’t particularly crazy about air travel.”

“Funny what we’ll do for love,” Duke’s wife observed.

Bryce picked up where he’d left off, sounding like a professional tour guide. His voice, animated expressions, and genuine smile made her wonder why, if he disliked so many elements about this place, he sounded downright proud, sharing details about the ice festival, the Fourth of July parade, the quaint parks and a dozen other reasons to visit North Pole.

While the Carter family nodded and asked questions about the sights, Sam hoped—for Bryce’s sake—that they wouldn’t pass the lake where his mom and dad had drowned several years ago while on a fishing trip.

Weeks earlier, Olive had shared her disapproval of the way her brother and his wife had raised their son. Yes, she’d acknowledged, they had provided the necessities, but their come-and-go lifestyle had deprived him of pretty much everything else. Now, as Bryce and Sam delivered Duke’s family to their airline terminal, she said a silent prayer of thanks that Bryce had been spared the bitter reminder of his parents’ deaths.

Many hugs and well wishes later, they finally waved good-bye and headed back to North Pole.

“There’s something I want to show you before we get back to town,” Bryce said.

Sam chanced a peek at her wristwatch. “Okay, but just so you know…the store’s been locked up tight for hours now, and it was closed all weekend because of the wedding. Wouldn’t you rather I get in there, so I can—”

He reached across the console and grabbed her hand. “Humor me, will ya?”

Shrugging, she grinned. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“Ironic you call me that, since I made a point of letting my folks know I had no interest in running the place.”