Sharing Spaces (23 page)

Holding that thought, Jack started up toward the lodge. He climbed the steps onto the porch and stopped abruptly, feeling his heart give a strong kick. Senna had placed votive candles in glass holders around the hot tub's deck, lighting the area in a soft, muted glow that captured the wraiths of steam rising into the cold night air. She was definitely planning a romantic interlude. He checked the hot tub's stove, added a few sticks of firewood, shucked out of his shirt, jeans and boots, and lowered himself into the tub. Perfect temperature. He sank down, trying to act nonchalant, as if this sort of seduction happened daily in his self-imposed monastic lifestyle, but by now the unsteady kick of his heartbeat had given way to the strong rhythmic pound of a war drum. He took several deep breaths and wondered what she'd say when she appeared.

Maybe she wouldn't say anything. Maybe she'd just
give him a sultry stare as she let the robe fall off her shoulders, only instead of the bathing suit she'd worn the night before, this time she'd be wearing nothing at all. She would stand there for a moment while he admired her sensual beauty, then she'd slip into the tub, slide up against him, sigh his name in his ear… He wondered what their first kiss would be like, and above all, how the night would end.

Tipping his head back, he imagined the possibilities. The sky was at its darkest, but its brightest as well, because the aurora borealis, rare in June, was dancing across it, igniting faint streamers of greens and reds and yellows that stretched across the broad-reaching twilight of the northern sky.

Howl, wolves,
Jack silently willed the Naskaupi pack.
Howl for my beautiful woman, and this night will be perfect.

He heard a soft footstep approaching from behind. Of course. She wouldn't be coming out of the lodge. She was staying in the cook's cabin now. Jack shifted his position in the hot tub to watch her. She wore a robe wrapped around her, the same as last night, and her hair was pinned loosely atop her head. She paused in the soft glow of the candles and smiled as she let the robe unfold from around her.

She was wearing the same bathing suit as the night before. It was a nice bathing suit. Pretty. And she looked gorgeous in it, but…

“What do you think about the candles?” she said. “I thought we could leave them around the tub and light them every night for the guests. They're pretty safe in the votive holders and they throw just the right amount of light.”

She slipped into the hot tub while he was still struggling for some response, overcome with disappointment that the candles hadn't been a prelude to a romantic tryst and that when the robe fell around her ankles she hadn't been naked.

“I think the candles are a nice touch,” he managed.

“I'm sorry if I insulted your plane.”

“What plane?”

“I spent most of the day hating that old relic because I thought it had killed you, and hating myself for not having the courage to say the things to you that I wanted to say, so I'll say them to you now, before I lose my nerve.” She drew a deep breath. “I want to thank you for befriending my grandfather, because if you hadn't, he never would have made you his business partner, and if he hadn't done that, I never would have met you. I wouldn't be here right now, staring up at a sky like I've never seen before in a land so wild a wolf walked up and looked me in the eye.” She watched him as she spoke and in the flickering candlelight her eyes were dark and mysterious. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that I'll always remember this special time I spent here with you.”

Jack felt a lurch of anxiety and sat up straighter. Good God, what kind of sentiment was that for her to be expressing? “That special time doesn't have to end,” he said, trying to think of something profound to say, something that would make her realize that her time here could last forever, if she wanted it to.

Ah. There was the key.
If she wanted it to.
And up to this point, she definitely hadn't.

“All things come to an end, Jack,” she said with a gesture of her hand through the steam rising from the tub.
“Tomorrow, this place will belong to the guests who arrive here, and we'll belong to them, too, for as long as they're here. That's why tonight's so special. This is the last night you and I will have this place all to ourselves.”

Damn! It was as if she was ending everything before it even had a chance to begin. The desperation that swept through him was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Jack struggled for the right words, but he'd never been much good at expressing himself and tonight was no exception. It had always been easier to build walls than bare the soul.
If you stayed I could teach you to fly your half of the plane, and run a team of sled dogs. You could study the Naskaupi wolf pack, write a paper to educate the public, and help the wolves to survive in a world that doesn't begin to understand them. We could follow the George River caribou herd when it migrates through in winter, run the lodge together in summer. We could be happy here and have lots more nights like this all to ourselves.

The silence that followed his unvoiced plea was long, and then Senna said, in a soft and wondering voice, “Listen. Do you hear that? Maybe it's my grandfather's black wolf. Maybe it's Raven.”

Sure enough, in the distance, as deep and as haunting as the wilderness itself, came the long mournful howl of a lone wolf, and the sound embodied the very torment in Jack's soul.

T
HE ARCTIC TWILIGHT GAVE OVER
to the pale-yellow gleam in the east that heralded the dawn, but not just any dawn. For the first time ever, the sun would rise on the Wolf River Lodge as an operating concern, and it would set on twelve guests settling in for a week of wilderness fishing. Senna knew she should be up and about, seeing to last-minute chores, putting the final polish on the lodge, but she lay still, unable or unwilling to move from the bed. Just a few minutes more…

She stretched in the dim quiet of the cook's cabin, shifting beneath the blankets and reflecting on the night before, and how quiet Jack had become after she'd declared her feelings for him…or tried to. She'd never been very good at that sort of thing. Still, even if she'd bungled it, she'd expected some sort of response, yet he'd said nothing after his first encouraging utterance about their time together not having to come to an end. After that, he'd clammed up. They'd shared the tub in silence while the northern lights ran wild against the sky, and then the admiral's wolf had howled. That moment had been so mystical. Hadn't he felt any of the magic? Wasn't he suffering from the same strange symptoms as she'd been having for the past week? Wasn't he the least little bit in love with her?

Apparently not, or else last night would have ended differently.

Footsteps approached on the cabin path and the door opened after a light tap as Senna sat up, sheet drawn to her chin. Chilkat raised his head from his paws as Jack appeared in the doorway, carrying a pot of coffee and one mug. He set the coffeepot on the table after filling the mug. “Thought you might need this to jump-start your day,” he said, handing her the cup.

“Thanks. That soak in the hot tub last night relaxed me so much I'm afraid I overslept,” Senna said. “But I enjoyed it. That was very special.”

“Better enjoy another few minutes of peace and quiet,” he advised over his shoulder as he headed out the door. “This is the last you'll get until Mary and her friend arrive.”

Senna stared as the door closed behind him and his footsteps faded into silence. She uttered an incredulous laugh. For cripes sake, the man was clueless. Should she have tried to seduce him last night? Seduction was not something she was particularly experienced with. In fact, as far as men went, she was very much inexperienced. The first real relationship she'd ever had was with Tim, and he was the only man she'd ever slept with. No, she was definitely not up to speed as a seductress. Besides, she'd given Jack every opportunity to make the first move. Was she that undesirable? She brooded as she sipped the strong coffee and then, as the caffeine kicked in, she became swept up with the energy of the new day and the excitement of the date itself.

“To hell with men in general and Jack Hanson in particular,” she said. “I have a lodge to open up.”

She jumped out of bed, donned her swimsuit, and ran
barefoot down to the river. The water was ice-cold and her breath left her with a whoosh as she dove into the deep pool, no doubt startling a myriad of underwater creatures as she swam and splashed and kicked her way back to shore. She rushed back up the path to the cabin, dried off and dressed, vowing to take a hot shower before the first batch of guests arrived. She and Jack barely had time to acknowledge each other, which was fine with Senna. Breakfast was forgotten as they each attended to small last-minute chores. Charlie was moving wood up onto the porch, making much clatter and noise as he stacked it near the door.

By noon, they were sharing a rushed lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and tea with lots left to do. Senna took a quick shower then changed into decent twill slacks, a pale peach linen blouse, and a warm lime-colored cardigan. She pinned her hair in a French twist, pulled on soft comfortable shoes, and returned to the lodge. Jack was coming up the ramp, toolbox in hand. “The generator is now officially up and running for the summer.” He paused beside her and gave her a brief glance. “You look real nice,” he said.

Senna shook her head as he continued past. What a romantic. At 1:00 p.m. the satellite phone rang and Senna ran from the kitchen to answer it. It was Thunder Air Service, confirming pickup of six passengers, departing Goose Bay in thirty minutes. She felt a thrill of nervousness as she replaced the receiver. The phone rang again before she could leave the reception area. This time the caller was Tim.

“Senna?” he said. “I'm sorry to call you again, but I spoke with your mother and she told me you weren't coming home for another two weeks. I was wondering
if you'd gotten an answer from your business partner about selling the lodge.”

“Tim, Jack really doesn't want to sell his half of the business so I'm afraid that deal with Mr. Hammel is off.”

“Not necessarily. I told Earl that your partner didn't want to sell, and he wants to talk with him about that very subject. The thing is, he's going to need a caretaker for the property and was actually amenable to the idea of Jack retaining half ownership, since Earl will only be using the property a few weeks out of the year. He even thought it would be a good idea to continue to operate it as a commercial lodge because it would be a great tax write-off for him, and Jack would have free rein to run the place as he sees fit. It seems to me that both he and Jack might benefit from this arrangement.”

“Maybe,” Senna said. “I'll run it by him, Tim, but today isn't a good time. It's opening day, and we have no help at all. We lost our two new hires, and twelve guests will be arriving in a matter of hours…”

“You mean it's just the two of you running the place?” Tim's voice was incredulous.

“Three, counting Charlie. At least until Wednesday, when we get two more replacements who'll need to be trained. I've agreed to stay on for another two weeks to get the lodge opened up, and we're right out straight.”

“Is there anything I can do on this end to help?”

“No, but thanks for the thought. I have to go, it's time to get tea ready for our first guests. I'll talk to Jack about Earl Hammel's offer. I promise.”

Senna hung up the phone and sat for a few moments, filled with confusion. She didn't want Earl Hammel to come to the lodge. She didn't want him to talk with Jack.
She needed to talk with Jack herself and tell him… Tell him what?

That she'd decided not to sell?
Had
she decided? Could she afford not to sell? How much more debt could she accrue before having to declare bankruptcy? And did the money problems really matter more than how she felt about Jack? Most important of all, how did Jack feel about
her?

He chose that moment to duck his head into the registration area. “I was in the kitchen and couldn't help but overhear,” he said.

“You mean you were eavesdropping again.” Senna stood. “That was Tim, as you know. The prospective buyer, Earl Hammel, apparently doesn't mind the idea of having a business partner. He'd be happy buying out my half of the business as long as he could use the property when he wanted, and he liked the idea of operating it as a commercial lodge because it would give him a good tax write-off.”

“Huh,” Jack said, his expression stony. “And you told him you'd talk to me about it, so you're talking to me. But you're not telling me how you feel about selling to Earl Hammel. So tell me. How do
you
feel?”

Senna drew a deep breath and broached the dreaded money subject. “Earl Hammel is a very wealthy man. He could keep the lodge afloat until all the debts have been paid off and it starts to turn a profit. He'd make a better business partner than I would. My bank account is pretty near empty, my credit cards are maxed out and I don't even know how we're going to pay the hired help. I'm scared. That's what I'm telling you. That, and we have six guests about to arrive and I have to fix aft
ernoon tea, so the rest of this conversation is going to have to wait.”

Stomach churning, she slipped past him and returned to the kitchen. After a long pause she heard Jack's heels drumming his anger down the length of the porch in the direction of the guides' cabin. The last-minute chaos of the day soon swept her into a flurry of activity, and the sound of a twin-engine plane arriving caused her stomach to flip-flop. She placed the assortment of cookies on the sideboard and lit the Sterno under the tea urn to keep the tea nice and hot, gave one last critical look around the public spaces, then went down to meet the arrivals.

The plane was bigger than Jack's, and much newer. Senna greeted the guests as they disembarked and welcomed them to the lodge. Jack came down the ramp, shaking hands as everyone introduced themselves. The pilot wore a grim expression as he off-loaded the luggage. He took Jack aside and Senna overheard him saying, “Helluva tight takeoff run you got on this stretch of river. Not too bad for landing, and unloaded, we won't have a problem getting out, but I dunno about flying out of here with a full load.”

To which Jack replied, “Well, if you can't do it, I will.” Senna guessed that this was routine macho pilot talk, after which the Thunder Air pilot laughed, returned to his plane and took off with lots of room to spare.

Jack and Charlie were in charge of handling the luggage, and Senna had tagged each suitcase and duffel with the room number so they'd get placed in the proper rooms but Jack had already abandoned the plan in favor of assisting Mrs. Ida Snell, the diminutive wife of one of the fishermen. Mrs. Snell was a tiny woman in her
late sixties or early seventies with vivid blue eyes, an infectious smile and beautiful snow-white hair pulled into a bun on the nape of her neck. She had a pair of binoculars around her neck and a husband who was as huge as she was tiny and apparently not up to the task of steadying her up the steep ramp.

“Now, Bert,” she cautioned her husband as Jack took her arm. “This young man has graciously offered to help me to the lodge. I don't want you straining your heart. You know what the doctor said after your heart surgery. Light exercise.”

Dear God, Senna thought. A big man in his seventies, borderline obese, with a heart condition that had required recent surgery. She stepped up beside Ida. “I'll help you up the ramp, Ida. Jack will make sure your husband doesn't overdo it.”

Ida chatted as they climbed side by side, Senna's arm encircling Ida's waist to steady the elderly woman. “I brought my bird book and my binoculars. Bert tells me the insect life in Labrador is amazingly healthy, so there must be birds.”

“Oh yes, many,” Senna reassured her.

“Then this week will be a joy. How I love to bird watch!”

When Ida was safely ensconced in the living room and enjoying a cup of tea, Senna raced back down to the dock to lug a couple of bags up and deposit them in the guests' respective rooms. Jack, she noticed, was navigating Bert Snell up the ramp, pointing out landmarks and talking fishing, progressing at a sedate pace guaranteed not to stress his heart. Senna entered the living room out of breath but pleased to see that the five guests were talking amiably amongst themselves as they took
in the lodge. Some had already helped themselves to tea and cookies. In no time she'd registered them and distributed the room keys. She showed them the hot tub out on the deck and when Jack arrived with Bert Snell she gave them some rudimentary information.

“This is a casual place, but when the dinner bell rings, it's time to eat. Supper's served at 6:00 p.m. Hors d'oeuvres will be set out at five in the living room, and you're welcome to help yourself from the dry bar. Tea and refreshments will be available from three to four daily, also set out in the living room, lunch is promptly at noon unless you're out fishing, in which case we'll provide you with a box lunch, and breakfast is served at seven. If you're an early riser, coffee and fresh pastries will be on the sideboard by 5:00 a.m.

“The library in the living room is for your reading pleasure, and we ask only that the books remain here at the lodge, as they belonged to my grandfather. There's a satellite phone available in the registration area if you need to stay in touch with the outside world. Cell phones don't work out here. As far as fishing goes, both Jack and Charlie are first-class fishing guides and our boats can accommodate four people. There are wading pools just below the lodge, and above the lodge, at the foot of the rapids, there's good deep holding water that you can cast to from shore.

“As you no doubt know, the Wolf is a salmon river, and this lodge is located approximately twenty miles from the Sea of Labrador. The salmon spawning grounds are another eighty miles upstream. We want to remind you to practice catch-and-release fishing. The Atlantic salmon are a magnificent but endangered species, and we want both this lodge and the salmon to be
around for a long, long time. You'll also be catching brook trout and pike, and Jack can fly you into several nearby lakes if you want to hook into some trophy-sized brookies in the ten-pound range.”

Senna gestured that she was through with her little introductory lecture and smiled. “Other than that, folks, the only rules are that you relax and enjoy yourselves. My name is Senna McCallum, and please don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything at all you need to make your stay more comfortable.”

Most of the guests dispersed to settle into their rooms. Senna spoke to Bert as he started for the guest wing, clutching his room key. “I'll see that Ida gets another key to the room, Mr. Snell, as I'm sure you'll be out fishing every day.”

Bert, who was still a bit out of breath from the climb, gave her a quiet smile as he mopped his forehead with a big handkerchief. “Oh, it's my wife who's here to fish,” he said. “I'll be spending most of my time perusing your library and admiring your grandfather's books. That's quite a fine collection he has.”

Minutes later she encountered Jack in the kitchen, pacing back and forth with an anxious expression. “What's wrong?” she said.