Under Alaskan Skies (8 page)

He put his hands on the sides of her head and used his strong fingers to massage her temples and knead the back of her neck. She felt the air whoosh out of her lungs and the tension flow out of her head. Her skin tingled. Then he laced his fingers through her hair, sifting the tendrils between his fingers. The fire in the woodstove had burned down to embers. As the stove cooled down, her body felt as if it was on fire. She moaned softly.

“Is that better?” he asked in a deep, slow voice.

“Mmm,” she said, her head nestled between his muscular thighs. Her lips were numb. She couldn’t form any words. She couldn’t even think of any words to express how she felt because she’d never felt this way before. She could stay there forever, as limp as a rag doll with every hormone raging, if it weren’t for that warning voice inside her head, the one that asked her if she knew what she was doing.

The answer was no, she didn’t. She braced her hands on the floor and tried to get up. She couldn’t. He reached down and pulled her up. She didn’t dare look at him. Instead she walked to the stairs and without a backward glance she took the stairs one at a time, her legs wobbling, gripping the banister so tightly her knuckles were white.

She tumbled into her bed and fell asleep immediately. The next thing she knew she heard banging in the distance and smelled coffee. She reached for the
wind-up clock on her bedside stand and held it in front of her face. Eight-thirty. She never slept past six. She grabbed her long flannel robe and ran down the stairs. Not only did she smell coffee, she smelled cinnamon rolls. How could that be? Where was Matt? Who was at the door?

“Hello, Carrie.” Merry Munger stood at the doorway, her short, round body encased in a yellow slicker and knee-high rubber boots on her stubby feet. “Just wanted to see if you were okay,” she said peering around the corner into the living room. “Heard you got company.”

“That’s right,” she said, stuffing her arms into the sleeves of her robe. “The doctor who came to see Donny. I couldn’t fly him back last night, so he had to stay.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Merry said. She glanced up at the sky. “Doesn’t look like flying weather today, either.”

Carrie scanned the gray sky, measuring the low overcast. Her father had taught her so much about the weather up here, she almost didn’t need to listen to the forecast. She would have been surprised if it had cleared, since the winds were from the northwest.

“I hear your friend is one young, good-looking fellow,” Merry said.

“Really?” Carrie said. Of course word would have gotten out by now. She could just hear the gossips. “You know he’s really not my friend. He’s a doctor. I never met him before yesterday, and when he leaves, today or tomorrow, I’ll never see him again.”

“So you say,” Merry said. Her wrinkled face broke into a broad smile. “Hello there,” she said.

Carrie whirled around. Matt was standing behind her, looming over her shoulder.

“Merry, this is Dr. Baker. Merry runs the country store. Merry, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get dressed. I’m planning to open the library this morning.”

“I’ll let everyone know,” Merry said to Carrie, but her eyes never left Matt’s face as she backed down the sidewalk toward her car. What she would let everyone know was that she’d actually seen the young, good-looking doctor and he was every bit as handsome as she’d heard. And that when she’d arrived, Carrie was in her bathrobe and looked as if she’d just gotten up. Not that she would draw any conclusions from that. Oh, no.

Carrie closed the door and leaned back against it. “I can’t believe I slept so late,” she said, running her hand through her tousled hair. She must look a wreck while Matt looked wide-awake and fresh in a clean pair of khakis and another of her father’s shirts. Obviously, he’d been upstairs while she was asleep. He might have taken a shower and found clean clothes and she’d never heard a thing. “I’m usually up at six-thirty. It must have been that headache cure. I was unconscious the minute my head hit the pillow. You ought to bottle it and sell it instead of tranquilizers. I’m going up to get dressed. Did you—” She took a deep breath and told herself to stop rattling on and on. “Do I smell coffee and rolls?” she asked, sniffing the air hungrily.

“You said you were going to put them in the oven, so I did it for you. I hope you don’t mind. I have no
idea if I did it right or not. I just thought I’d get the jump on you.” He paused and smiled at her.

Her heart lurched at the way the smile lit his face. Who needed sun shining on southeast Alaska with a man like him around? “You made the coffee, too,” she said, returning his smile. Was this what it was like to live with someone who looked like a TV doctor? One who knew how to give massages and start the coffee?

Would you wake up every day feeling like it was the first day of the rest of your life, that life was full of the most amazing possibilities just because he was there smiling at you? She told herself there were no guarantees. Look at her father and mother. They’d been madly in love. They’d probably had days when they felt just like she did right now. And it all turned to dust. “Are you trying to make me feel inadequate?” she asked lightly.

“I’m trying to earn my keep. I don’t want you to throw me out on the street.”

“No chance,” she said. “You treat our patients, make breakfast and give massages like a pro. Where did you learn how to do that?” She kept her tone casual although she was conscious that her robe was hanging open, exposing her flannel granny gown. Other women her age wore silky gowns with spaghetti straps they ordered from Victoria’s Secret. Not her. Maybe if she’d been expecting someone. Maybe if she had someone to wear them for. But she didn’t. Matt didn’t care what she wore as long as she got him back to his ship and his parents and his girlfriend.

She wasn’t usually self-conscious about how she looked. Maybe other women would curl their hair and
put on makeup before coming downstairs, but what was the point if no one saw you. When she heard the knocking, she’d rushed to the door. Now it was too late. He’d seen her at her worst, with her hair un-combed and her face unwashed.

He, on the other hand, was wearing a blue chambray work shirt that looked familiar and made him look as if he belonged here. Obviously, he’d been up for a long time. What did he think of her, lazing about in bed that way? She was so embarrassed she ought to run upstairs and get dressed. But she didn’t. For some reason her feet wouldn’t move.

She stood there gaping at him and let her gaze drift to his mouth. No, she mustn’t look at his mouth, mustn’t remember how he’d kissed her and how she’d kissed him back. Mustn’t wonder how it would feel to kiss him again this morning.

The memories of the night before came wafting through the air like the smell of the hot rolls. Both were impossible to ignore. She dropped her gaze from his face and fiddled with the sash on her robe.

“The massage?” he said. “Believe it or not, I made it up as I went along. That was the first one I’ve ever given.”

“If it was the first, I’m sure it won’t be the last. I mean… I didn’t mean that I…that you… I just meant you’re so good at it you should…”

“I know what you meant,” he said, his mouth quirked up at the corners. She was afraid he did know.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she said as she escaped toward the stairs. “After breakfast I want to head for town and open the library.”

“While you’re there, I’ll go see Donny.”

“Matt.” She paused and looked out the window at the low overcast. “I’m afraid we won’t get out today.” She held her breath. Even though she’d tried to prepare him for this eventuality, he might not take it well.

He shrugged. “That’s what I figured,” he said. “I’ll call the ship later and let them know.”

Carrie breathed a sigh of relief and went upstairs to get dressed in something more flattering than a billowing nightgown her grandmother might have worn, put on the kind of makeup that didn’t look like she was wearing makeup and comb her hair. Not that she hoped Matt would notice. She just felt the need to pull herself together, both internally and externally.

Chapter Four

The library was located in an old house built sometime before statehood in the center of town. The yellow and white Victorian-style building recently repainted by a committee of volunteers also housed the historical museum in one wing and a resale shop in another room. Carrie unlocked the door to the museum, then greeted the man who was working in the shop. He looked up from a pile of old clothes he was sorting.

“Hi, there, Carrie,” he said. “Hear you got a doctor for us.”

“Just temporarily,” she said.

“Oh? I was hoping he was going to stay,” he said.

Hoping he was going to stay? Oh, no. Outsiders don’t stay. Don’t even think about it
. “No, Mac, he’s only here for a day or two, to do what he can for Donny. He’s a city doctor, a plastic surgeon who’s on vacation. He was good enough to come here without notice when I told him about the emergency.”

“What’s he say about the boy?” Mac asked, peering at her through his bifocals.

“He thinks he’s stabilized. I’m hopeful I got him
here in time to stop the swelling and hopefully limit the amount of injury. But it’s impossible to tell without an X ray and a scan or an MRI, and they are only available at a hospital somewhere.”

“So why don’t you fly Donny out to a hospital, Fairbanks or somewhere?”

“Yes, I will, or someone will. But he shouldn’t be moved until he’s better. And another thing, I can’t fly anywhere in this weather. Which is why the doctor is still around.”

“Hear he’s staying with you,” he said. Carrie wasn’t sure, but she thought there was a hint of speculation in the old man’s eyes.

“Well, yes,” she said. “I’ve got room and he doesn’t know anyone else in town.”

“What do you think of him?” Mac asked.

“What do I think? I think he’s incredibly generous to interrupt his vacation to come here and take a look at Donny. From what I can tell, he seems to be a very good doctor. I think we’re very lucky to have him.”

“Big-city doc, you say?” he said.

“Yes.” She had the feeling this conversation could go on all day if she let it. So she excused herself and went to open the library door. The minute she did, the phone rang. It had nothing to do with books, it was someone asking about the doctor. She told the caller, a fisherman known as Smoky Joe, just what she’d told Mac, only a more abbreviated form. Then the customers came. At first she thought it was the weather that caused everyone to turn to books for entertainment, but after the first few patrons had come in, she realized it was curiosity that brought them.

She was irritated at first, but realized she couldn’t
blame them. Life in their little town could get dull, especially under leaden skies, with no mail delivery to look forward to. She’d brought in some excitement in the form of a doctor, and he was fair game as an object of curiosity. And of course everyone was worried about Donny. Though it seemed that everyone had already called over to his house to get the latest update on his condition.

“I hear they’re playing chess,” Allison Rathman told Carrie, leaning against a bookcase. Allison was a high school girl, the star of the girls’ basketball team.

“Who’s playing chess?” Carrie asked, as she stamped the return date on a book about raising parakeets for Marge Seton.

“Donny and the doctor,” Allison said. “You know how Donny was always wanting somebody to play with him? Well, looks like he found somebody.”

“I can’t believe Donny’s feeling well enough to play chess,” Carrie murmured. The boy had learned on his own, from books Carrie had ordered for him from the state library service. Occasionally somebody would drift through town and play with him and give him a few pointers. But yesterday he’d been flat on his back. How could he be well enough to move the pieces around? Was this just another rumor or was Dr. Matt really able to perform miracles? He’d certainly done a job on her aching head last night. She felt a tiny shiver go up her spine, thinking of the way his hands felt releasing tension from muscles and causing her to feel as if every bone in her body had turned to jelly.

“…another mystery by that writer, you know who I mean?”

Carrie looked up, aware that she’d been daydreaming, and met the inquiring gaze of Maggie Cummings. She got up from behind her desk and went back to the small mystery section with Maggie. It was a relief to discuss books for a change. She was able to steer Maggie to a couple of writers she thought she’d like. But there was no escaping her questions about the new man in town. After she’d filled her arms with a selection of books, Maggie leaned forward and asked the questions that were on everyone’s mind today.

“Where on earth did you find that man?” she asked breathlessly. “He’s gorgeous.”

“How did you… I mean how do you know?” Carrie asked.

“Peeked in the window over at the house,” she confessed, her high cheekbones expertly tinged with pink. Even when she was just taking a walk to the mailbox, Maggie was perfectly made-up, which made her stand out from 99 percent of the local population. “I guess I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist. How many times does a new man come to town? I didn’t want to bother anyone by knocking on the front door. There he was, sitting by Donny’s bed, the chess board between them. I couldn’t believe it.”

“So it’s true,” Carrie said.

“Oh, yes, it’s true. He’s the best-looking man to hit this town in ten years. No, make that this whole territory. I ought to know. But, tell me, is he married?”

Carrie shook her head. She could have told Maggie
about his girlfriend, but that wouldn’t have slowed Maggie down one bit.

Maggie breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “But you’ve got first dibs on him, Carrie. You saw him first,” she said.

“What?” Carrie backed into a bookshelf. “Wait a minute. Sure, I saw him first, but I’m only interested in him as a doctor, nothing else,” she said, hoping Maggie couldn’t see her blush.

“Well, if you’re sure. But really, Carrie, you’re passing up a good bet. It’s about time you woke up and smelled the roses, if you get what I mean. If I’d let one rotten man spoil my view of the whole species, where would I be now?”