Midnight Sons Volume 1 (12 page)

“Who?” Sawyer demanded before he could censor the question. “Never mind, Scott, that’s none of my business.”

“Well, Grandma wants her to get married again. I heard them talking once, and Grandma was telling my mom that it’s wrong to let one bad experience sour her on marriage. She said there were lots of good men in this world and Mom would find one of ’em if she tried. Do
you
think my mom should get married again?”

Marriage wasn’t a subject Sawyer felt comfortable discussing. “I…I wouldn’t know.”

“Mom’s never said anything to us, but I’m pretty sure she gets lonely sometimes. Did you know Mr. Livengood asked her to marry him today?”

“What?”
A fierce, possessive anger consumed Sawyer. He threw down the hose and was halfway out of his yard before he realized he couldn’t very well wring Pete’s neck. No matter what his feelings toward Abbey, Sawyer had no right to be angry. If Pete wanted to propose to her, that was his prerogative. He himself had no say in the matter.

“Scott!” Abbey had come out onto the porch to call her son. Sawyer might as well have been invisible for all the attention she paid him. “Dinnertime.”

“In a minute, Mom.”

“Now,” she insisted.

“You’d better go,” Sawyer said. “I’ll bring the bike over after dinner.”

“Okay.” He dashed across the street, stopping when he reached the other side. “Sawyer,” he called, “don’t worry. Mom still likes you best.”

Unfortunately the boy’s opinion was no comfort at all.

Abbey couldn’t eat; the food stuck in her throat. It felt as if she was swallowing gravel. The baked salmon certainly felt that way in the pit of her stomach.

Scott and Susan had never seemed more talkative, but she found it difficult to respond to their comments and questions.

“Sawyer said I could use his bike until mine gets here,” Scott said, glancing expectantly at Abbey.

She’d been such an idiot. It had taken her virtually the whole day to figure out what was happening. Every unmarried man in town—most of them, anyway—had made a point of visiting the library, and it wasn’t to check out books. No, it had more to do with checking out the librarian.

The newspaper ad had claimed there were lonely men in Hard Luck, but that wasn’t the reason she’d applied. Not at all!

“Isn’t it neat of him to lend me his bike?” he asked.

Abbey had to think about the question before she could answer it. “Very nice.”

“Did Mr. Livengood really ask you to marry him?” Susan piped up, her dark eyes wide with curiosity.

“Would you like some more rice?” Abbey asked, intent on
changing the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss the miserable details of her day.

“He said he was serious,” Scott said. “I overheard him telling Mrs. Inman that he wanted to get his bid in before anyone else.”

Abbey groaned. How many more proposals would she have to endure? Apparently Sawyer was the only man in Hard Luck who
wasn’t
interested in marriage. His ridiculous comment about her trying to lure him into marriage still rankled. As if she’d even
consider
such a thing.

“Are you going to marry him?” Susan asked.

“Of course not. I barely know Mr. Livengood.”

“I think you should marry Sawyer,” Susan said thoughtfully. “Do Scott and I get to choose a new husband for you? ’Cause if we do, I bet Scott’d want Sawyer, too.”

“I am not marrying Sawyer O’Halloran,” Abbey said, obviously with more vehemence than she’d intended, because both children gave her odd, confused looks.

“Why not?” Scott asked. “I like him.”

“He told us a bedtime story and took us swimming and named a lake after you, Mom. Don’t you think he’d be a good husband?”

Abbey’s shoulders sagged. “Let’s not talk about Sawyer right now, okay?”

Scott and Susan accepted her request without comment, for which Abbey was grateful. They both began to chatter about their new friends and their plans and Eagle Catcher and what they’d done that day.

She was grateful her children had adjusted so well to life in such a small community. A town that lacked the amenities and
resources they were used to. She’d been certain they’d find plenty of reasons to miss Seattle. They hadn’t, even though they’d left behind their friends, their grandparents, their whole lives.

So had she.

After dinner Abbey was sitting alone at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reviewing the woeful events of her day, when there was a knock at the door. She answered it to find Sawyer standing on the stoop. Her heart thumped wildly.

His eyes held hers for so long it took her a minute to realize he had the bike her son had mentioned.

“Wait here and I’ll get Scott,” she told him.

A muscle worked in his jaw. “I brought the bike over for Scott, but it’s you I want to talk to.” Nothing showed in his eyes, but she felt the power of the emotions he held in check.

The same emotions churned inside her.

“Abbey, please. Tell me what happened today.”

“You mean other than two invitations to dinner and a marriage proposal? Oh, I nearly forgot—I was invited to inspect one pilot’s fishing flies.”

Sawyer closed his eyes. “That’d be John.”

“Right. John. There were gifts, too.”

The muscle in his jaw jerked again. “Gifts?”

“A bit of inducement, I suspect.”

“I apologize for the behavior of my men. If you want, I’ll drag every one of ’em down here to apologize.”

“That’s not what I want,” she said coldly.

He heard the phone ring, and with unconcealed relief, Abbey went to answer it.

Sawyer took the mail run into Fairbanks himself. He found he could think more clearly when he was in the air. The roar of the plane’s engines drowned out everything but the thoughts whirling inside his head.

He’d heard there were only two laws a pilot needed to concern himself with. The laws of gravity and of averages. Whoever had said that hadn’t taken into account the laws of nature—of physical attraction between a man and a woman.

Abbey confused him. Never had he been this attracted to a woman. The few kisses they’d shared had been a shock to his senses. He imagined the excitement, the satisfaction, of making love to her….

Yes, he wanted Abbey. But even a saint couldn’t find fault with the way he’d behaved toward her.

Frustration gnawed at him, eating away at his confidence. Granted, he hadn’t been completely in favor of Christian’s plan, but he didn’t think it was unethical or unfair. It wasn’t a question of false pretenses. Well, except for the cabins, which they had—slightly—misrepresented. He didn’t want to force anyone, man
or
woman, into a relationship. Not everyone wanted to become romantically involved; it was a personal decision. This way there was no pressure, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make Abbey understand that. Offering women jobs instead of marriage meant everyone had a choice when it came to romance. Surely that was as much to the women’s benefit as the men’s!

The mere thought of her accusations infuriated him. He’d noticed it hadn’t taken her long to bring up the subject of marriage.

Did
he want to marry her? Did he love her?

Somehow Sawyer found it easier not just to think at thirteen thousand feet but to confront his emotions. What did he know about love? Not much, he decided. From his earliest memories, his parents had been at odds. He felt sure that his parents had genuinely cared for each other, but in every other way theirs had been a bad match. Bringing his mother from the sophistication of London, England, to a primitive little community like Hard Luck couldn’t have helped, either. Ellen had gone back to England, taking Christian with her, when Sawyer was thirteen. He’d never forgotten the desolate look on his father’s face when the plane took off with his mother and youngest brother aboard.

It was the one and only time Sawyer could ever remember his father getting drunk. And he realized now, as an adult, that it was regret he’d seen in David’s eyes.

Sawyer was well aware, as was Charles, when their father began seeing Catherine Fletcher. He often wondered if David would have filed for divorce had Ellen not returned.

At first everything was better. His parents had decided to make a new start, and for a while, life in the O’Halloran household was smoother and more pleasant than it had ever been. Sawyer had missed his youngest brother and his mother. At fourteen he hadn’t understood the nature of his parents’ relationship; all he knew was that he and his brothers were happy. Ellen had come back. They were a family again.

Unfortunately it didn’t last. Everything suddenly changed, and his mother moved out of their bedroom. To the best of Sawyer’s knowledge, Ellen and David never slept in the same
room again. Later, after the lodge was built, they didn’t even sleep in the same house.

No one needed to tell Sawyer why this had happened. His mother had learned about David’s affair with Catherine. No one needed to tell him how she’d found out, either. Catherine had taken pleasure in breaking his mother’s heart, destroying the tentative beginnings of happiness.

Sawyer had never understood why his parents didn’t divorce. In the end, it was almost as if they’d
looked
for ways to make each other miserable.

No, his parents hadn’t taught him about love. Nor had he learned much about it in the years since.

Until Abbey…

His mind filled with thoughts of her and Scott and Susan. If she was so distraught about her agreement to work in Hard Luck, he’d release her from any obligation, real or imagined. She was free to go. He’d personally escort her and the children to Fairbanks and see them off.

His heart beat high in his throat at the possibility of losing Abbey.

But if Sawyer admitted he loved her, he’d have to make a decision, and he wasn’t ready for that either. They’d met less than two weeks ago. One thing was certain, though—he could no longer picture Hard Luck without her.

When Sawyer returned later that afternoon, he found Scott riding the old bicycle at the airfield. He spotted Eagle Catcher first and smiled to himself as he taxied the Cessna over to the hangar.

“You sure do fly good,” Scott told him with admiration when he climbed down from the cockpit.

“Thank you, Scott.”

“Are you going to take me up with you like you said?”

“Yeah, someday.”

The boy’s face fell. “That’s what you said last time.”

Sawyer remembered how much he’d disliked being put off when he was a kid. “You’re right, Scott. I did say you could fly with me. Let’s check the schedule.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, but we’ll have to ask your mother’s permission first.”

Scott kicked the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. “I don’t think you’re her favorite person right now.”

“She’s still mad, is she?”

“Yup. She told Mr. Livengood she wasn’t interested in marrying him. He looked like he was real disappointed, but you know what? I think he would’ve been surprised if she said yes.”

“Maybe I should talk to her.” Or try, although heaven knew he’d done that often enough.

“I wouldn’t,” the boy said.

“Well, have you got any other ideas, then?” Sawyer resigned himself to asking a nine-year-old boy for advice.

“The other guys brought her dumb gifts. Mom doesn’t care about bug spray. She doesn’t like mosquitoes, but we’ve gotten real good at keeping them away.”

“Okay, I won’t give her any bug spray. Can you think of anything she’d like?”

“Sure,” Scott said. “She likes long baths with those smelly things that melt.”

“Smelly things that melt? What are those?”

“Bath-oil beads,” Scott said. “If you can get her those, she might listen to you.”

It was worth a try. He’d hit a drugstore next trip to Fairbanks. He walked into the office and held the door open for Scott to follow. Everyone had left for the day, which suited Sawyer fine.

He sat down at his desk; Scott sat in the opposite chair. Leaning back, Sawyer propped his feet on the corner and linked his hands behind his head. Scott imitated his actions, knobby elbows sticking out like miniature moose antlers from the sides of his head.

There was a knock at the door, and Susan poked her head inside. Her smile widened. “Hi, Sawyer,” she said. “I saw your bike outside,” she told her brother. “Mom wants you.”

“What for?” he asked.

“She needs you to help her carry some stuff home from the library.”

“Okay,” Scott said. He released a long-suffering sigh.

“Want me to come with you?” Sawyer offered. He didn’t think Abbey would appreciate it, but then he hadn’t seen her all day. Maybe, just maybe, she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her, and they could put this unpleasantness behind them.

“It’s okay,” Scott assured him. “I can do it.” He started toward the door.

“I appreciate the advice, Scott. Next run I make into Fairbanks, I’ll buy plenty of those smelly bath things for your mom.”

“Uh, Sawyer.” Scott’s face broke into a grin. “There’s something else you could do.”

“What’s that?”

Scott and Susan exchanged looks.

“You could always marry my mom,” the boy said. “Of all the guys who’ve proposed so far, we like you the best.”

So Pete Livengood wasn’t the only one who’d popped the question, Sawyer mused darkly. Scott and Susan had said as much, and they were in a position to know. It infuriated him that the men in this community would make such asses of themselves over the first woman to arrive. These were the very men who’d insisted all they wanted was a little female companionship. Yet the minute Abbey set foot in town, they were stumbling all over themselves to see which of them could marry her first.

What bothered him even more were his own confused feelings for Abbey. He didn’t want any of the other men in town approaching her—offering her gifts, dinner dates, marriage proposals. No, if anyone was going to do those things, he wanted it to be him. He just wasn’t sure about the marriage part; he
was
sure about wanting to see Abbey. On an exclusive basis.

There, he’d owned up to it. But from the looks she’d given him lately, she’d rather go out with a rattlesnake than with him.

He sulked for a few minutes before leaving the office. He wondered if Mitch Harris had taken a liking to Abbey, too. Mitch hardly knew Abbey, but then, that hadn’t stopped Pete from proposing. Mitch, a widower, was a good guy. Chrissie Harris and Susan had been hanging around together; he hoped that wouldn’t give Mitch an unfair advantage.

There were a number of other unmarried men in town. Ben Hamilton, for one. The owner of the Hard Luck Café was around the same age as Pete Livengood, and Sawyer considered him a good friend. But that didn’t mean Ben didn’t have eyes in his head. Abbey was a beautiful woman, and Sawyer could understand why any man would be attracted to her.

There was no telling how many had lined up to offer Abbey their hearts and their homes. Not that he had any right to complain. It was more than he’d done. And a whole lot more than he intended to do.

Marriage was a lifetime commitment. Make that a life sentence. In his experience, marriage meant the death of love. It had killed whatever love his parents had started out with. Well, he wouldn’t let that happen to him. No, sirree. He was frustrated and annoyed that the men of Hard Luck were so careless about their freedom.

As he continued his unsatisfying reflections, Sawyer strolled over to Ben’s. It was too early for the dinner crowd, such as it was, and too late for lunch. The café was empty.

Sawyer slid onto a stool and uprighted a mug.

Almost immediately, Ben appeared from the kitchen and reached for the coffeepot. “What’s bugging you?”

Sawyer smiled to himself, amused and rather impressed that the cook could read him so easily. “How’d you know something’s bothering me?”

“You came in for coffee, right?”

“Right.”

“You got a pot at your office, same as I do here. I know I’m a good-lookin’ cuss, but I don’t think you’d be willing to pay a buck-fifty for a cup of coffee unless you needed to talk. What’s up?”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Yeah.” Ben picked up the empty sugar canister and refilled it.

Sawyer didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t want to let on that what he’d really come here to learn was whether Ben had proposed to Abbey, along with everyone else in town.

“Let me help you out,” Ben said when he’d finished with the sugar canister. “A man doesn’t wear that damned-if-you-do damned-if-you-don’t look smeared across his face unless a woman’s involved. Is it Abbey?”

“Yeah.” Sawyer couldn’t see any reason to deny it. “Pete Livengood proposed to her.” He raised the coffee mug and studied Ben’s reaction through the rising steam. The cook gave nothing away.

“So I heard.”

“Apparently a few other men in town had the same idea.”

Ben chuckled and brushed the sugar from his palms. “Someone else being interested in Abbey upsets you?”

That was putting it mildly. “Well, you could say I’m concerned,” Sawyer admitted grudgingly.

Ben leaned against the counter, obviously waiting for him to proceed.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Sawyer said before Ben could prod him. “You want to know what’s holding me back. If I’m so worried Abbey’ll marry someone else, why don’t I propose myself? For a number of very good reasons, if you must know,” he said, raising his voice. “First and foremost, I refuse to be forced into this. A man doesn’t offer marriage lightly, or at least he shouldn’t.” He was thinking of Pete and the others. “Another thing. I won’t have any woman dictating to me what I should and shouldn’t do with my life.”

Ben’s face creased with a smug look. “Why are you yelling at me?”

Sawyer shut his eyes for a moment and shook his head helplessly. “Darned if I know.” Once again, he found himself thinking about his own parents and how miserable they’d been together. Abbey had already been married once. Badly burned, too, as far as he could tell.

The cocky smile vanished from Ben’s face. “Maybe what you need to figure out is if you love her.”

That debate had been going on inside him all day. “I don’t
know
what I feel,” he blurted out.

“What about her kids?”

Some of the tension left him. “I’m crazy about those two.”

Ben studied him as if seeing Sawyer in a whole new light. “You didn’t think you’d ever really fall for a woman, did you? The fact is, before Abbey and her children got here, you thought you were happy.”

“I am happy,” Sawyer insisted.

“Sure you are,” Ben muttered. Chuckling to himself, he returned to the kitchen.

“I’m damn happy,” Sawyer shouted after him.

“Right,” Ben called back. The old coot seemed highly amused. “You’re so happy you’re crying in your coffee, afraid Abbey Sutherland’s going to marry someone else. Careful, Sawyer, she just might, and then what’ll you do?”

Sawyer slapped a handful of coins down on the counter and stomped out.

Abbey inserted a card into the catalog and reached for the next one. This low-tech approach to librarianship was a far cry from the computerized system she was used to, but for the moment, it was manageable. She glanced up as the door opened and Pearl Inman stepped in. “Are you coming down to the airfield?” she asked. “John Henderson’s due back any time with Allison Reynolds.”

“Give me a minute.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to meeting this young woman,” Pearl said. “Ben baked a cake to welcome her. I just hope the men don’t make fools of themselves the way they did when you got here.”

Abbey’s heart fluttered with a mixture of dread and excitement as she pulled on her sweater and headed out the door. She was eager to meet Allison, eager to have another woman move to Hard Luck. If she remembered correctly, Allison was the woman Christian had mentioned the night he’d phoned—his dinner date.

It was inevitable that she’d run into Sawyer at the airfield;
avoiding him in a town the size of Hard Luck was impossible. Nor did she wish to. She’d been angry and upset the last time they spoke. She wasn’t accustomed to a lot of attention from men—it flustered and alarmed her. Then, without intending to, Sawyer had made everything worse. What upset her most was the way he’d insinuated she was hoping to trap him into marriage.

Despite what Sawyer might have thought, she
wasn’t
planning to remarry. When she’d applied for the job, she’d done so because that was what she needed—a job. Going to Alaska had sounded adventurous, and small-town life had appealed to her. She
hadn’t
come to “be friendly” to a bunch of love-starved men.

Unfortunately, once her children learned that Pete Livengood had proposed to her, they’d jumped on the bandwagon. Not that they wanted her to marry Pete. Oh, no, they were campaigning for Sawyer. Both Scott and Susan made sure they casually dropped his name at every opportunity. It was Sawyer this and Sawyer that, until she was sick of hearing about him. Abbey didn’t have the heart to tell them he was the last man she’d marry—even if he asked her. Not with that attitude of his. He’d always believe she’d tricked him into marriage.

The day was overcast and cool, a contrast to the warm sunshine the area had enjoyed all week. Shivering a little, she walked to the airfield with Pearl.

Half the town was there waiting for the plane’s arrival. Scott pulled up next to her on Sawyer’s old bicycle, shading his eyes as he gazed up into the sky.

“What’s the big deal?” he asked.

“Sawyer’s new secretary’s coming.”

“Does she have any kids?”

The question amused Abbey. She wondered what Sawyer would do if another woman showed up on his doorstep with a family in tow.

“Probably not,” she said.

“Are the men gonna want to marry her, too?”

“Maybe.”

“What about Sawyer?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she answered, more emphatically this time.

“We want
you
to marry Sawyer,” her son persisted. “Susan and me like him a whole lot, and he likes us.”

“Scott, please!”

“But if he might marry this new lady, don’t you think you should do something about it?”

“No,” she said in her sternest voice, praying no one was listening in on their conversation.

“I hear the plane,” Pearl shouted.

Abbey squinted into the hazy skies. She heard the buzz of an approaching aircraft, but couldn’t see anything just yet. She recalled the excitement she’d felt when she’d flown into Hard Luck and looked down to find such a large welcoming committee.

The plane appeared over the horizon and slowly descended toward the dirt runway. Once it had taxied to a stop, Duke Porter hurried over and lowered the steps.

A minute later, a woman dressed in a hot-pink silk jumpsuit moved slowly down the steps. Like royalty, Abbey thought.

Allison Reynolds was beautiful, she saw with a small pang of jealousy. Knock-your-eyes-out gorgeous. Long legs that seemed to reach all the way to her earlobes, a more-than-ample bosom and a body that would stop New York City traffic. Allison gave a beauty-queen wave and the smile she bestowed on the crowd of welcomers was bright enough to create a glare.

Abbey suspected every man present was wiping drool off his chin. Until that moment, she’d avoided looking for Sawyer, but now she scanned the crowd, seeking him out. She found him, his intense blue eyes glued to the latest arrival with undeniable interest. Just like the others.

Her heart chilled as she admitted to herself that he really wasn’t any different. Disillusioned—and determined to ignore it—she squared her shoulders and looked away.

Lonely men, indeed. Well, they were getting what they wanted with Allison Reynolds. Thank heaven.

Just as they had the day Abbey and the kids came, everyone assembled at the Hard Luck Café for introductions. Allison Reynolds was ushered inside and seated while the town put forth its best effort to impress her.

Abbey stood back and waited for a chance to welcome her. From her position by the wall, she had a clear view of the newcomer. Abbey sincerely hoped she and Allison would be friends. At the moment she could do with a friend.

“I’d like to talk to you.”

Abbey started, then turned to discover Sawyer standing next to her. “Do you always sneak up behind people?” she asked in an angry whisper.

“Only when I’m desperate.” He leaned one shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “It’s Mitch Harris, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“The other man who proposed.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business. Was it Mitch?” he growled in a low whisper. Then not giving her time to answer, he asked again. “What about Ben Hamilton? I wouldn’t put it past the old goat. He probably did it just to rile me.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It worked, too.”

“As I said earlier, none of this concerns you.” If there’d been anywhere to move, Abbey would have moved, but the café was packed. Why on earth would Sawyer choose this precise minute to talk to her?

“You aren’t marrying any of them.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m serious, Abbey. Call me a male chauvinist or whatever else you want, but if you’re so intent on finding a husband, I’ll marry you myself.” His voice was harsh.

“You’ll marry me yourself?” she asked, incredulous. “How generous of you. How benevolent!”

“I mean it,” he said.

“Tell me, Sawyer, why would you do anything so…so drastic?” Mingled with her anger was a pain that cut deep, despite her disenchantment. This was exactly the type of behavior she’d come to expect from Sawyer—yet she was disappointed.

Her question appeared to hit its mark. His face tensed and the muscle in his jaw leapt. Unable to listen to any more, Abbey walked out of the café. She’d introduce herself to Allison later.

She’d gone only a few feet when she heard the screen door slam behind her. Quickening her steps, she hurried away.

“Abbey, wait!”

Half a minute later, he’d caught up with her. “For heaven’s sake, will you stop long enough to listen to me?”

Her throat was so clogged with tears, it was impossible to answer him. He steered her onto the airfield and into a nearby hangar, then turned to face her. His outstretched arms touched her shoulder.

Abbey kept her face averted, praying he’d say whatever he intended to say so she could leave.

“Why do I want to marry you?” He sounded as confused as she did.

“You don’t want me,” she accused. “All you care about is making sure I don’t accept anyone else’s proposal. Your ridiculous male pride couldn’t take that! Well, if you thought you were appeasing me with this insulting offer of marriage, you’re dead wrong.”

“I do want you,” he argued, pulling her into his arms.

Her heart stopped, then jerked back to life as he directed her mouth to his. The kiss was long and thorough. Groaning softly, he kissed her again, hungrily this time. Her lips parted, and she slid her arms tightly around his hard waist.

They engaged in a series of warm, moist kisses that became more and more intense. He drew her closer until the full lengths of their bodies were pressed together. She felt the rise and fall of his chest and knew her own breathing was as labored.

Suddenly, looking stunned, he dragged his mouth from hers. He dropped his hands, releasing her, and stepped back.