Midnight Sons Volume 1 (25 page)

Named after the brother who’d died. The lover who’d never returned.

“In many ways the two Charleses are alike,” Ellen said on a wistful note. “I’ve marveled over the years at the similarities
between them. Sawyer, on the other hand, is a lot like his father in looks and temperament.”

“Christian must take after your side of the family, then,” Lanni commented. “In appearance, anyway.” The youngest O’Halloran brother’s hair color was much lighter than that of his siblings.

Ellen answered with a nod. “I’d hoped for a daughter, but it was never to be.”

“You and David were separated for a while, weren’t you?”

“Yes. We’d been married close to thirty years by then. Charles was fifteen at the time, Sawyer a couple of years younger.” Ellen hesitated as if she wasn’t sure she should say any more. “I’d been back to England only once in all those years. I’d never done well in Alaska. I realize now that part of this was my own fault, but part of it was due to…other factors.”

Lanni had a feeling some of those factors had to do with Catherine.

“I missed England. I’d always missed England. My cousin, Elizabeth, wrote and urged me to visit. David and I argued, which was something we frequently did in those days. He didn’t want me to leave.

“In all the years we’d lived together, not once had he ever said he regretted marrying me. He did that day, in anger. That was when I knew how much my weakness had hurt him.

“I’m not proud of what happened next. In my outrage I told him I’d never loved him. It was a lie. A woman can’t live with a man, bear his children and feel nothing. I’d grown to love David, but I was afraid to tell him that.

“The next morning I packed my bags and left for England with Christian.”

“David didn’t come after you?”

“No. His pride wouldn’t allow that.”

“How sad for you both.”

“It was a very painful time,” Ellen acknowledged simply. “I returned to England, the home I’d yearned for all those years, and discovered I no longer belonged. Christian was miserable, too. My own pride carried me through the first year, but the months that followed were…difficult.”

“You were in touch with David?”

“Oh, yes. I had to keep in touch because of the boys. I missed them terribly and they missed me. I’d thought that with Charles and Sawyer in their teen years, my presence wouldn’t be that important or necessary to them. I was wrong.”

“What brought you home?”

Ellen smiled. “I admitted to David that I’d lied. I did love him, and had for many years. I asked him to forgive me for being so foolish. He said he was sorry, too. I told him I wanted to come home.”

“And you were happy afterward?”

“Yes,” she said, but her eyes revealed how short-lived that happiness was. “In the beginning we were. It was as if we’d both been given a fresh start. I tried in every way I could to show David how important he was to me.

“He’d sacrificed a great deal to fulfill a promise to his brother. For the first time since we were married he wanted me, and not because of any obligation. Or so I believed.”

“That was when my grandmother destroyed your marriage, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Ellen surprised her by saying. “David and I did that on
our own. Certainly she contributed to the problem, but I can’t blame her for David’s or my stubbornness. When I learned about their affair, I was deeply hurt. David had had the perfect opportunity to suggest a divorce. Instead, he’d invited me home. I came back because I thought he wanted me….”

“Why
did
he ask you to come back?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand his reasons. I’d like to believe he was sincere about wanting our marriage to work. For the boys’ sake, yes, but for us, as well. England wasn’t the homeland I’d left—almost against my will Alaska had become my home.

“When I found out about the affair, I moved out of David’s bedroom and asked for a divorce. David wouldn’t hear of it. That was when he built the lodge.

“I always hated that place, while David became more and more obsessed with it. Soon we were like strangers. We rarely spoke to each other. I fully expected him to leave me for Catherine, and I never understood why he didn’t. To the best of my knowledge, he never slept with her again after I returned from England, but I can’t be sure.”

“She waited for him,” Lanni said. “She waited for the marriage to end so she’d be free to take him for herself.”

“I lived with that knowledge every day of our married life.”

“My grandmother is a bitter, unhappy woman.”

“I’m afraid she has been from the day I stepped off that plane with David and he introduced me as his wife.”

Ellen didn’t blame Catherine for ruining her marriage; by the same token, Catherine had to take responsibility for what she’d made of her own life.

“I’m still not sure why you’ve told me all this,” Lanni said. Her salad remained virtually untouched, as did Ellen’s.

“My son loves you.”

“I love him.”

“Then go to him, Lanni. Fight for him. Don’t let the mistakes I made, the sins your grandmother and I committed, influence your life. Marry Charles, with my blessing. Make him happy and, if you’re both willing, make me a grandmother.”

Lanni’s eyes held Ellen’s. “I’ll do what I can,” she said decisively, “but Charles is a stubborn man.”

“Be more stubborn, then,” she advised. “I lost my Charles, not by choice, but by fate. Don’t lose yours.”

Lanni’s eyes gleamed with determination. “I won’t. Not now.”

Ellen laughed. “You know, I almost feel sorry for the boy.”

Before she was through with him, Lanni thought, Charles might well be in need of his mother’s sympathy.

“I suppose you heard,” Ben said when Charles walked into the Hard Luck Café.

“Heard what?”

“About Pete and Dotty. They’ve announced their engagement.”

Charles slid onto a stool without comment. Feeling the way he had lately, he found it difficult to dredge up enthusiasm for much of anything. If Pete Livengood was marrying the nurse Christian had hired, then great. Wonderful.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Ben asked, pouring him a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, more power to them.”

“The wedding’s in two months.”

The last thing Charles wanted to discuss was weddings.

Ben lingered at the counter. “Rumor has it you’re selling the lodge.”

“Yeah,” he answered without elaborating.

“When did all this happen?”

“Last week.”

“Well, who bought it? Anyone I know?” Ben was beginning to sound decidedly short-tempered.

“I doubt it.”

“Listen, Charles, if talking with a friend is too much trouble for you, just say the word and I’ll shut my trap.”

Charles scowled. “I came in for coffee, not conversation.”

“Fine.” Ben set down the pot so hard coffee splashed on the counter. Then he marched back into the kitchen, where he slammed dishes and pans around with far more noise than Charles suspected was necessary.

Listening to the racket, he regretted his own outburst. Ben was a good friend and deserved better.

“Matt Caldwell bought the lodge,” he said when Ben reappeared.

The older man ignored him.

“Matt is Lanni’s brother.”

Still Ben went about his business as if he was alone in the café.

The door opened and Mitch Harris stepped inside. He slipped onto a stool two down from Charles. The two men acknowledged each other with a brief nod. Mitch hadn’t been in Hard Luck all that long, but Charles liked him. Liked his understated authority, his kindness—and the fact that Mitch, too, was a man of few words.

Ben took Mitch’s order and continued to ignore Charles.

“All right,” Charles muttered when his friend paraded past yet again. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’ve got one.”

To his amazement Ben whirled about, grinning broadly. “You know what your problem is, don’t you?”

As a matter of fact, Charles did. His problem, as Ben referred to it, was about five six with long blond hair and eyes that could look straight through his soul.

Ben didn’t give him a chance to respond. “In case no one’s bothered to tell you, you’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of this great state of ours.”

“Thank you, I appreciate hearing that,” Charles said sarcastically.

“Now if you want to make a mess of your life, that’s your business. I told you what I thought. Most of the others share my opinion, but they don’t have the guts to tell you. You seem to—”

“I saw Lanni while I was in Anchorage,” Charles broke in, his voice low. He paused; he wasn’t sure why he felt it was necessary for Ben to know that.

However, his comment had piqued Ben’s interest. “You did?”

Charles stared into his coffee mug. “Her brother tricked us into a meeting. We both realize a relationship between us isn’t meant to be. She feels as strongly about it as I do.” Even now, Charles didn’t understand why he’d stayed in her apartment once he knew what Matt had done. Any man with a lick of sense would’ve known better. The only thing he’d managed to prove was how much he loved her.

Instinctively he recognized that true satisfaction would
escape him with any other woman. He would find what he needed with Lanni and with no one else.

The door opened, and Christian entered the café, frowning. “Got anything stronger than coffee?” he asked Ben.

“You know I only sell beer on Friday and Saturday nights.”

“I was hoping you’d make an exception this afternoon.”

“What’s up?” Charles asked.

Christian regarded him wanly. “Have you rejoined the living, or are you still a brooding, bad-tempered zombie?”

“I’m still brooding and bad-tempered, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to answer the question.”

“Mariah Douglas.”

“Who?”

“The new secretary,” Ben supplied.

“The woman’s incompetent,” Christian snapped.

“Then fire her,” Charles said.

“I’ve tried. Three times to be exact, and then she bursts into tears and tells me how sorry she is, and before I know it she’s talked me into giving her another chance.”

“Is Sawyer having the same problems with her?” Charles wanted to know. It seemed to him that his brother wouldn’t have any qualms about laying off an inept employee.

“That’s what’s so bizarre. I swear if Sawyer asks Mariah to type anything, she goes at it about a hundred miles an hour and produces a flawless copy.”

“But not for you?”

“For me she spills coffee on the keyboard. For me she topples a hundred-pound filing cabinet onto my foot. For me she cuts off a phone call to an important client.”

“I’d say you have a negative effect on the woman.”

Christian rested his elbows on the counter and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Is she still living in the cabin?” Ben asked.

“Oh, yes. I don’t know what possessed me to actually think a woman from the big city, accustomed to modern conveniences, could live out there. But Mariah refuses to listen to reason. For the life of me, I can’t convince her to move.”

Charles found himself enjoying the fact that his youngest brother was experiencing troubles of the female variety. He obviously hadn’t managed to conceal his reaction from Christian.

Christian raised his head and looked at Charles through narrowed eyes. “If I were you I wouldn’t look so smug.”

“Why’s that?” Charles had to admit it felt good to smile.

“You know Matt Caldwell’s in town?”

“Already?” Ben said. “The man isn’t going to let any grass grow under his feet, is he?”

The two brothers ignored him. Charles said, “I understand he’s bringing in supplies. What he said to me in Anchorage is that he wants to get as much done as possible before the weather changes.”

“Supplies aren’t the only thing he brought with him,” Christian said.

Charles frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” His brother slid off the stool. He set a dollar bill and some change down on the counter, then gave a jaunty wave. “Thanks for the coffee, Ben. I’ll be back Friday night when you can serve me something more to my liking.”

Charles knew that Matt had come in on the morning flight.
One of the air services out of Fairbanks had brought him, along with enough building supplies to keep him busy the entire winter.

He’d need at least that much time. While part of the structure hadn’t been seriously damaged by the flames, much of it was in bad shape. Matt would have to work fast if he intended to live in the lodge this year. Winter arrived early in Hard Luck; it wasn’t uncommon for the rivers to freeze over in September.

Wondering about his brother’s cryptic remark, Charles got up from the counter and strolled outside. He didn’t intend to become close friends with Matt Caldwell, but the least he could do was stop by to say hello and see if there was anything he needed.

Knowing his new sister-in-law, he figured Abbey had probably invited Matt to dinner. She and Sawyer would provide a hearty welcome to their community. He smiled when he thought of the changes in Sawyer since he’d met Abbey.

When Charles got to the lodge, he heard a volley of hammering. The sound of voices followed. Charles hadn’t realized Matt had brought anyone with him; actually he’d been smart to do so. With everything that needed to be done before the weather became prohibitive, getting the lodge in shape would take more than one pair of hands.

It felt strange to knock at the front door of a place he’d once considered his own. A moment later Matt was there, greeting him warmly. “Charles! Come in. Uh, I take it you heard.”

“Heard what?”

“It’s Charles,” he shouted over his shoulder. “And I don’t
think it’s me he’s come to see.” Matt’s deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Is something going on here that I don’t know about?”

“Hello, Charles.” Lanni stepped out from one of the back rooms. She wore jeans and carried a hammer, which she swung idly at her side. “I wondered how long it would take you to discover I’d moved to Hard Luck.”

“What do you mean you’ve moved to Hard Luck?” Charles demanded. He scowled, but his lack of enthusiasm didn’t appear to discourage her.

The hammer continued to swing at her side, and she wore a sassy grin. “What do you think I mean?”

That she planned to make his life a living hell, Charles decided. “What about your job with the paper?”

She shrugged, as if that was of no importance. Charles knew otherwise. Matt had bragged to him about Lanni’s talents. Being accepted as an intern at the Anchorage daily paper was no small feat. If he remembered correctly, Lanni was supposed to begin work at the beginning of September. It was the chance of a lifetime, and he refused to let her abandon the opportunity because of him. Or because of some misguided belief that they could work things out.

“Damn it, Lanni, you were supposed to be working for the paper in another two weeks.”

Her saucy look began to waver. “I guess I won’t be, after all.”

“Why not?”

“Lanni,” Matt called out. He stuck his head around the corner and saw the two of them talking. A smile spread across his face. “Never mind,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

“Answer my question!” Charles glared at her.

“If you must know,” she said stiffly, “I’ve turned down the internship.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I tried to talk sense into her,” Matt insisted, peeking around the corner again, “but she refused to listen.”

“Go away, Matt,” Lanni said. “This conversation doesn’t include you.”

“Sorry.” Matt stepped onto the porch and stood, feet braced apart, gunslinger-style, thumbs tucked into his toolbelt. A hammer hung from one side like a six-shooter. “I don’t think she should turn it down, either. Maybe
you
can talk sense into her.”

“What happens with my career is entirely up to me,” Lanni said calmly.

“Take the job!” Charles barked. It was simple: he didn’t want her in Hard Luck. Not where she could torment him day and night. He had enough trouble resisting her when she was half a state away; he’d be in serious trouble if she moved virtually next door.

“He’s right, sis.”

“Matt,” Lanni said in a low, angry whisper. “Let me repeat—this conversation is between Charles and me.”

“All right, all right,” Matt said. He held up both hands in surrender. “I’ll leave.” He strode sheepishly past them and out the front door, stopping to whisper something to Lanni that Charles couldn’t hear.

The door closed with an ominous slam.

“Perhaps we should sit down and talk about this,” Lanni said.

Charles shook his head, unwilling to be drawn into an argument. He felt himself weakening just being close to Lanni. Her smile cut straight through his pride and sliced away his resolve. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“That’s not true.” Her voice remained calm and controlled.

“You’ll be wasting your time.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“I’m leaving town this afternoon,” he said sharply. That much was true—for some unknown reason his mother wanted to see him. She’d arranged to meet in Fairbanks. Initially he’d agreed with reluctance, but was grateful now for the excuse.

“I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back,” Lanni promised—or was that a threat?

His hands knotted into tight fists. “Lanni, no.”

The tender look she gave him told Charles it would take an act of God to get her to return to Anchorage. He could disappear into the tundra for weeks on end, often did, and it wouldn’t matter. Not to her. She’d still be here, waiting.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why are you doing this?” he asked in exasperation.

“Because I love you. We belong together. I didn’t understand that until…recently. Your mother helped me see—”

“My mother?” He was unable to hide his surprise. “What’s she got to do with this?”

Lanni’s eyes widened. “You mean to say she hasn’t talked to you yet?”

He didn’t answer. Frankly he didn’t like the idea of his mother meddling in his life.

“I’ve never been one to believe in fate,” Lanni continued, “but now I’m not so sure. It’s as if the two of us are destined for each other. I feel I was sent into your life and you into mine. And one of the reasons for that is to right a wrong done half a century ago. We didn’t fall in love by accident,” she said, her expression intent. “You, Charles O’Halloran, are my destiny. Love me or not, I’m yours.”

Charles could see that no amount of logic would help. So the only option she’d left him was cruelty. “I suggest you leave Hard Luck now. If you don’t, you’ll become just like your grandmother, wasting your life over a man she can’t have.”

Lanni blanched, and he saw how she took a step back as if he’d physically threatened her. The temptation to rush to her and beg her forgiveness was nearly overpowering.

“There’s something you’re forgetting in all this,” she said in a shaky voice. “David loved Catherine. You told me so yourself. Just like you love me. Insulting me and my family isn’t going to make any difference.”

It
had
to. Insults were the only tool he still had in his fast-depleting arsenal.

“I refuse to believe you don’t love me, Charles. You can try of course, but I don’t know how you’ll manage to keep up the facade when we live in the same town.”

“Fine, then. We’ll be lovers if that’s what you want.” He tried again, desperate to get her to see reason. “It was all my father was willing to offer your grandmother. And it’s all I’m offering you.”

She hesitated, her eyes revealing her pain. The confidence she’d exuded earlier had vanished. Once again Charles had to restrain himself from reaching for her, comforting her. He didn’t know what madness had possessed her to return. There was no hope for their relationship. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled.

She said nothing.

“So what do you intend to do?” he demanded. His patience hung by a fraying thread.

“Exactly what I planned from the first. I’ll help Matt for as long as I can.”

“Then what?” he pressed.

A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips. “I came back for you, Charles O’Halloran, and I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You’ve been quiet all evening,” Abbey said to her husband.

Sawyer sat in his favorite chair, feet propped on the matching ottoman. The Fairbanks newspaper lay unread in his lap as he stared blankly into the distance. “Something’s not right,” he murmured.

Abbey sat on the arm of the chair and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Not right with what?”

“My brother.”

Abbey kissed the top of Sawyer’s head. “You know, Charles has to figure things out for himself.”

“I suppose,” he said absently. He slid his arm around her waist. “I got word that Bethany Ross, one of the new school-teachers, is flying into town the first of next week.”

Abbey was relieved. The kids were just about ready for school if Susan’s recent chatter was anything to go by. That morning she’d found her playing school with Chrissie Harris. The two girls had become almost inseparable over the summer months, and Abbey was grateful her children had adjusted so readily to life in the Alaskan interior. They’d need to adjust to school here, too, but they wouldn’t be the only ones. The teachers—one for elementary school to the sixth grade, the other for seventh grade through high school—were also new this year.

It still seemed odd to Abbey that there were fewer students in Hard Luck than there were teachers in the Seattle school her kids had attended. Considering the size of the community, Abbey reflected, her children had made friends very quickly here. Scott and Ronny Gold had discovered each other the very day they arrived. It was almost the same story with Susan and Chrissie, who spent her days with Ronny’s mother, Louise.

“Charles flew into Fairbanks this afternoon. He didn’t say why he was going,” Sawyer said, breaking into Abbey’s thoughts.

“He doesn’t need to check in with you, does he?”

“No. It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“He wasn’t the same when he returned.”

“Don’t you think that might have something to do with Lanni moving back to town?”

“Possibly,” Sawyer agreed, “but he knew she was living at the
lodge before he left. Fact is, he was telling me what a damn fool she was.”

Abbey hid a smile. “A fool, you say. She must be in love with an O’Halloran.”

Sawyer chuckled and pulled Abbey into his lap. “I could take offense at that.”

Abbey’s eyes met his and the laughter drained away. “I was only teasing. You know how much I love you.”

“I know.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I’m worried. About Charles.”

“Don’t be,” Abbey told him gently. “From my admittedly limited experience, I’ve learned that things usually have a way of righting themselves.”

“My wife, the eternal optimist.” Sawyer kissed the tip of her nose.

“Don’t you feel Charles and Lanni should be together?” Abbey asked. It was something she’d sensed almost from the first. Fate. Providence. Whatever you wanted to call it.

“I don’t know.” Sawyer shook his head. “In the beginning I felt the same as you do.”

“And now?”

“Now I don’t know what to think. Charles is obviously miserable, not that he’ll admit it. At first I blamed myself—I should’ve told him who Lanni’s related to, and I’m still not sure why I didn’t. I guess I liked seeing him flustered over a woman.”

“Flustered?”

“The way you flustered me from the moment we met,” Sawyer said, touching his lips to hers. “Later I realized what a dirty trick I’d pulled on him, and I regretted it.”

“I don’t believe it would have mattered,” Abbey said thoughtfully. “Lanni’s being related to Catherine, I mean. He fell for her hook, line and sinker.”

“The poor man’s doomed.”

“Doomed?” Abbey raised her eyebrows. “You might’ve come up with a more flattering term. I believe they were meant to be together,” she said again. “Maybe this is too poetic, but what if the two of them are supposed to make up for the wrongs of the past?”

Sawyer grinned. “In other words, my poor brother really is doomed.”

Abbey tickled her husband in retaliation, and then Sawyer found an even more effective revenge. It was a very long time before either of them worried about Charles or Lanni again.

Lanni sat on the top step of the porch while her brother worked inside the lodge. Matt was reviewing his finances, trying to calculate how soon he could advertise for paying customers. She knew money was going to be tight, but somehow he’d manage. He always had in the past.

As August dwindled to a close, Lanni could feel a new chill in the air. She drew her sweater about her. Mentally she reviewed her confrontation with Charles. It had gone much worse than she’d expected. She’d been completely confident she was doing the right thing when she returned to Hard Luck.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

When her brother realized she had no intention of going home to Anchorage, he’d been furious. He’d made his feelings on the subject extremely clear. He told her she was throwing away an opportunity that might not come again.

It was true; she might not get another internship at the newspaper. It was also true that if she didn’t take this last chance to salvage their love, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

But Charles didn’t want her in Hard Luck, and now it looked as if her brother would find a way to send her packing.

Lanni hugged her legs and pressed her forehead against her knees.

Despite everything, she couldn’t forget the gleam in Ellen’s eyes when she’d advised her to fight for Charles. What Ellen hadn’t told her was how hard Charles would fight back.

Although she’d tried to hide her reaction, his cruel words had hit their mark. By staying in Hard Luck, she was taking a risk—a risk that she might end up like her grandmother, loving a man she could never have.

She heaved a deep sigh, then raised her head.

A shadow appeared, stretched across the still-bright ground. Lanni’s heart quickened, not with fear, but with a breathless emotion.

It was Charles.

He didn’t speak. She straightened her back, and her heart banged unmercifully against her ribs. For one wild moment Lanni wondered if her imagination had conjured him up. It didn’t seem possible, after their confrontation earlier, that he was here.

Slowly she rose to her feet. She reached for the railing, needing its support. With a complete lack of haste, almost as if he was being drawn against his will, Charles approached her. One step at a time. One heartbeat at a time. One breath at a time.

When he stood before her, she could read the wildness in
his eyes. She recognized his uncertainty, his pain. It hurt her to see him like this.

When she’d worked up the courage, she lifted one hand and brought it to his face.

Charles covered her hand with his and closed his eyes.

After a moment he opened them again. His gaze searched hers, and she felt the tension leave him.

“I’m tired of fighting a battle I can’t win,” he whispered. Then he pulled her, almost roughly, into his arms.

Lanni went willingly and buried her face in his neck. “It’s about time!” she cried, throwing her arms around him.

Not satisfied simply to hold her, Charles kissed her with an urgency that told her how difficult his struggle had been.

He inched his mouth from hers with a reluctance that thrilled her. “I met with my mother this afternoon,” he said, his voice low and ragged with emotion.

“Then you know about your uncle and…and the baby?” she asked.

Charles nodded. “Mother said she met with you earlier in the week.”

“Yes…”

“She’s happy, you know. Perhaps for the first time in her life.”

They sat on the porch steps, Charles on the top step, Lanni on the one below. He leaned down to clasp her hands with both of his.

“She told me how much I remind her of my uncle Charles.” He frowned as if he found it impossible to assimilate everything she’d said.

“It took a lot of courage for her to talk about him after all
these years.” Lanni hoped Charles could appreciate what it had cost his mother to share her secret.