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Logan shook his head. “I can find my own dates, thanks.”
“Except you’ve been busy with work and finishing up your MBA. Bottom line, you’re not moving fast enough in that direction to suit your parental unit. When you get back from Alaska, be ready to look over the brood mares I line up for you while you’re gone. Make it easier for me. Do you prefer blondes, brunettes or redheads?”
Strictly because they’d just discussed Good Riddance, Jenna came to mind. He was absolutely certain, however, that the outgoing Jenna who did nails for a living wasn’t his mother’s definition of suitable.
“I’d have to say blondes.”
JENNA OPENED THE FRONT door of the new spa and her future home and stepped inside. Even though it was just an empty shell at this point, it was her empty shell.
Home. She grinned and twirled across the open expanse. Breathless, she stopped and looked around her, envisioning the place a month from now.
There was still a faint sense of uneasiness inside her she couldn’t quite shake. When Sven got her place framed in, maybe then she’d shake this feeling.
Thick glass windows offered views of the large evergreens on two sides and Good Riddance on the other two sides.
The materials for the interior lay stacked at the back of the building. She heard Sven, the construction foreman, talking to one of his guys outside. They should finish up the rear exterior today and not a minute too soon. Snow was fast on its way and it was already colder than Sven liked to have his crew working outside. That was the reason she hadn’t popped around out back. She didn’t want to slow them down.
She liked the big third-generation Swede in charge of her construction. Well, she didn’t like him that way. He was a good-looking guy and they got along great together, but there were no sparks there. Just to test the waters, she and Sven had kissed once. Once had been enough. Not that it was awful. Sven was actually a very competent kisser, but she wasn’t looking for competence. Well, actually, she supposed she did want competence, but she also wanted overwhelming passion and that just hadn’t been happening. So, friends they were.
Tomorrow they’d start the interior construction. She pulled her coat tighter around her, envisioning the walls in place and the waterfall that would be in the reception area. It wouldn’t be a big spa but it would be nice. And like most Good Riddance business owners, she’d live upstairs. It was definitely cheaper to build up rather than out.
The front door opened and Nelson Sisnuket stepped inside. His long, raven-black hair was pulled back in its customary ponytail, held with a leather strip.
Nelson was a good friend. Most people liked Jenna well enough, but very few people “got” her. Nelson did.
“Hi, Jenna.”
“Hey, Nelson,” she said, giving him a quick hug.
Nelson was way cool. Jenna loved him. Well, not love-love, even though she’d tested those waters, too. But they’d both quickly figured out they were meant to just be friends. That was happening to Jenna a lot these days. “I appreciate you making time for this.”
Nelson was one busy guy. He worked at the local doctor’s office as an assistant and office manager. He was also a shaman-in-training for his tribe. The tribe’s rule against interracial dating had made a relationship between them impossible, even if there had been chemistry.
Nelson would make a great shaman, Jenna thought. There was just something about him, a centered-ness. When she was a kid, she and one of her step-sisters, Lillith, had discovered a secret place on Lillith’s grandpa’s farm, one they’d returned to every chance they got. A copse of trees surrounded a quiet stream fed by an underground spring. Jenna had loved that stream for its calmness, clarity and constancy. Hanging out with Nelson always reminded her of that place and dipping her toes into the sun-dappled water.
“No problem. I’m glad to do this for you,” he said. “The clinic’s been slow but with the weather change, we’ll get busier,” he said. “How are you?”
It was one of those questions people asked without caring about the answer. But Nelson really wanted to know.
Had it been anyone else, Jenna would’ve given them a pat answer. But this was Nelson. “I’ve had a touch of the funk,” she said.
While she explained her theory behind feeling unsettled, Nelson reached inside his jacket and pulled out an animal-skin pouch. Squatting on his haunches, he placed it on the floor, unfolded it and pulled out what looked like a seriously oversized cigar. It was actually a bundle of sage tied with string.
Jenna had asked Nelson to “smudge” her new building to clear any negative energy before Sven and his crew started on the interior. It was a native tradition Nelson performed regularly at the clinic, cleansing the space. And Jenna wanted as much good energy in her own place as possible.
She and Nelson walked to the farthermost corner of the building. He struck a match and held the flame to the end of the bundle until it began to burn. Smoke curled into the air and he spoke a few prayers, raising and lowering the sage stick at the same time.
“I don’t know,” she concluded once he’d finished. “You ever feel like things are going right but something just feels off?”
He peered at her, seeming to see some place inside her. Nelson had a way of doing that. She was pretty sure it was that shaman thing he was training for. “Yes?” he said.
They leaned against the back wall, the scent of burnt sage wafting around them.
“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Jenna said. “I love living here. Even though I have a business in Marietta, it’s never felt the same as this.” She held out her arms to the empty room and circled slowly. “This is my home. How cool is that? So why do I have this … I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Kind of an empty spot inside?”
“Well, yeah. Maybe a little.”
“Perhaps you are ready to find your mate.”
“No. You can take that back to the drawing board. I’m just peachy keen on my own.”
She’d been a strike-out queen when it came to relationships. That, however, was no small wonder considering both her parents’ track record. If she rolled with the whole concept of genetics, neither of her parents seemed to possess the ability to successfully settle down. Apparently it was a defect she’d inherited. So she’d been cautious, determined not to bounce from relationship to relationship. She’d been holding out for something special.
However, at this point, she figured she probably qualified as the world’s oldest virgin. Still, she wasn’t about to rush into anything just for the sake of saying she had a boyfriend or that she’d done it. She wanted it to mean something. She refused to be a conquest, or worse yet, simply an available warm body in a bed.
“But I think a relationship is what you’re missing.” Nelson could be quietly persistent. And they both knew he didn’t mean a relationship between the two of them.
She loved Nelson and most of the time he got it right but not this time. Nope. She finally had what she’d wanted her entire life—stability and a sense of belonging. She eyed Nelson. “I think you’re projecting. Maybe you’re feeling like you want a girlfriend.”
He shrugged, saying nothing, his dark eyes probing.
Jenna shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I’m doing just fine on my own.”
Another relationship to screw up was the last thing she needed.
2
“WE’RE ALMOST THERE,” SAID the brunette puddle-jumper pilot named Juliette who’d picked Logan up in Anchorage.
His heart beat faster as he looked out over the buildings below. Jenna was down there. He was possibly minutes from seeing her again for the first time in twelve years.
The woman confounded him. He couldn’t seem to shake the attraction he’d always had for her, especially considering that little Homecoming incident.
And dammit, he’d dreamed about her almost every night since his secretary had booked this trip. Steamy, sultry erotic dreams where he was making love to her and she was beneath him, on top of him, beside him. The hell of it was, every time he had one of those dreams, it ended just before either of them climaxed. He’d wake up in a sweat with a raging hard-on. How could a woman he hadn’t seen in years, one he hadn’t even really known, affect him this way? It was enough to drive a man insane.
Surely it was just a matter of pride. He told himself he was eager to see her so she could see the geek she’d tried to prank had turned out okay. There was something to be said for the old adage that success was the best revenge. Not that he wanted any kind of revenge but he did feel the need for her to see firsthand just how successful he’d become.
It might be a family business, but nothing had been a given. If anything, carrying the Jeffries name meant you had to prove yourself that much more, to live up to the family legacy. And it came with both personal and professional expectations. He really wasn’t surprised his mother had enlisted Martina in finding him a potential spouse. Marriage and procreation fell next on the Jeffries obligation list.
Besides, he was admittedly looking forward to playing the hero. He was about to make the dreams come true of everyone living in Jenna’s little town. That was the only reason he wanted to see her.
It was not because he still had a thing for her after all this time. That would qualify as irrational. And it wouldn’t make any sense. Logan didn’t do irrational or senseless. No, he just wanted Jenna to see he’d done well for himself.
True to the satellite images, topographical maps and reports he’d read, a road bisected two rows of buildings. Twilight and snow encompassed the town ringed by towering evergreens. The ruggedness echoed the set designs for the western movies he’d always liked so much as a kid, except this town wasn’t located in the middle of a desert.
“I’ll have us down in a second,” Juliette, the pilot, said. He glanced over at the brunette.
“Good deal.”
She radioed for clearance to land. Really, there was something warped about his thinking. Juliette was very attractive, obviously intelligent from the conversation they’d had on the way out about flying and Alaska, and about his age.
He wasn’t remotely interested in her other than as the pilot getting him to Good Riddance. Instead he couldn’t get Jenna Rathburne out of his head. Those dreams had definitely screwed with his head and his rational thought processes.
A few minutes later they were on the ground, snow falling thick and fast from the heavy blanket of gray clouds.
“Here we are. Hopefully your luggage will make it sooner rather than later,” Juliette said.
Logan nodded and climbed out of the plane. The snow swirled around him, crisp, cold and fresh. In the distance, the air rang with the sound of barking dogs interspersed with children’s laughter along with the unmistakable hum of a diesel engine. He shivered and zipped his jacket. It was damn cold out here.
Because he’d been traveling, he had dressed lighter. Still, he’d dressed the part, trading business suits and business casual for boots, jeans and a flannel shirt he’d worn on trips to field operations in the past. He’d fully planned to retrieve his heavier jacket and gloves once he’d arrived in Anchorage. He’d arrived but his suitcase hadn’t. He really didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan, but there’d been nothing he could do about it.
Logan walked beside Juliette across the open expanse between the small runway and the log building, heading toward a door next to a sign that read Good Riddance Air Strip and Bed and Breakfast. On the far right side of the building, another sign outside yet another door proclaimed, “Welcome to Gus’s,” exactly as it had been described in the scouting report. A few months ago, one of Chaz’s team had been sent in, as a tourist, to assess the area, the people, the infrastructure and then compile a report which was part of the recommendations criteria.
Logan followed the pilot into the toasty-warm room, pausing inside to wipe his feet on the mat and brush the snow off his shoulders and hair. An older woman, about his mother’s age, dressed in jeans and a lace-trimmed flannel shirt, stepped forward to greet him.
“You must be Mr. Jeffries.” Her soft Southern accent once again brought his mother to mind, although his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything flannel. “I’m Merrilee Danville Swenson. As town founder and mayor, I’d like to welcome you to Good Riddance, where you can leave behind what ails you.”
Juliette had mentioned the town motto on the flight in. That had not been in the reports package.
Her handshake was firm and to the point. Logan immediately liked her. Her cooperation would be pivotal in buying out the town. He offered his most charming smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Swenson, and I’m pleased to be here.”
He had been surprised to discover a woman had founded this place out in the middle of the wilderness. However, it was exactly that pioneering spirit that would serve her well in relocating her little town. He even had a couple of locations to suggest when they sat down to discuss business. He planned to do that tomorrow. He wanted to establish a rapport with her and meet some of the townspeople before he broached the subject of the buy-out.
She smiled. “Call me Merrilee. Everyone does.”
“And I’m Logan.” They were off to a good start.
“Good. We don’t stand on ceremony here. There’s fresh coffee—” she indicated a small table set up as a beverage station “—help yourself. And don’t be shy with the oatmeal cookies, either. Juliette and I need to go over a few things so we can get her back in the air and then I’ll be right with you.”
“Sure. Take your time.”
While Juliette went over paperwork with the older woman, he poured a cup of coffee, snagged a cookie … and then another since he was starving, and studied the room.
Not that he hadn’t expected it but this was vastly different from the office space he worked in every day. Photographs covered one of the chinked-log walls. There was a love seat and two armchairs clustered around a television set in one corner. Flannel curtains hung at the windows and a braided rug covered a large expanse of the wood floor.
He blew on his drink and sipped. Strong and dark, it blazed a warm trail through him. And something smelled damn good.
He concurred with the recommendation put forth in the report. The airstrip and this building would be an asset as the mining operation was set up. It sat far enough on the perimeter to be functional, while the rest of the buildings would, in all probability, be bulldozed down. This, however, would make the perfect headquarters site, especially with the attached restaurant. They couldn’t have asked for anything better.
A pot-bellied stove sat to the right of the room. An old man with a long white beard sat in a rocking chair on one side of a chess set, muttering to himself. The rocker on the opposite side sat empty.
“Enjoy your stay,” Juliette said, sending a friendly smile his way as she headed back out the door.
“Will do. Thanks again.”
When the door closed behind the pilot, Merrilee looked toward the old man and shook her head, a gleam of sadness in her eyes. “That’s Dwight Simmons. He’s harmless, just a little lost. His chess partner Jeb Taylor passed away this summer. Dwight still hasn’t quite figured out what to do without Jeb. The two of them spent their days playing chess and arguing, but they were like family to one another.”
Logan nodded and murmured something noncommittal, unsure what to say in the face of the old man’s loss.
“Now let’s take care of you,” Merrilee said, patting him on the arm. Logan had steadfastly tried to push Jenna to the back of his mind but now he was within proverbial spitting distance of her and it took every ounce of willpower for him not to ask Ms. Swenson—make that Merrilee—where he could find Jenna. That would go a long way in taking care of one of his items on his to-do list. “I understand you’ve had a bit of a rough travel day,” Merrilee said.
She’d been notified of his flight delays so the last leg of his trip could be rescheduled.
Logan nodded. “It’s been a long day. A wreck shut down the expressway this morning. I could see the airport. I was half a mile from the exit, but I couldn’t get there, which meant I missed the direct flight.” As a result, he’d had to fly around his ass to get to Anchorage by way of New York, then Los Angeles, and finally on to Anchorage. Somewhere between Atlanta, New York, LA and Anchorage, his luggage had gone missing.
“Would you rather freshen up in your room first? I’ve left a few toiletries as I understand your luggage didn’t make it here with you. Or do you want to grab some grub next door first?”
Between the innumerable delays that had left him hurrying up and waiting, he hadn’t grabbed breakfast at the airport the way he’d intended to, nor had he had the opportunity to snag any food at Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson terminal. He’d had to sprint through the airport to make the flight, which had then spent an hour sitting out on the tarmac waiting for clearance before take off. He’d traveled often enough to know shit happened, but not usually this much shit all in one day.
“I need to wash up a bit, but then I’m ready to eat. Whatever it is smells great.” The scent alone had him salivating. The cookies had helped but he was still hungry. For good measure, his stomach growled in agreement.
“No worries,” Merrilee said with a bright smile. “I’ll show you to your room and then they’ll fix you right up next door.”
She headed toward a stairway on the other side of the office. Logan followed her up to the second floor.
“I understand one of my former schoolmates lives here. Jenna Rathburne,” Logan said as they climbed the stairs.
Merrilee stopped and turned to face him on the stairs, surprise on her face. “You know Jenna? She didn’t tell us you’d be coming.”
“I haven’t contacted her. I thought I’d look her up when I got here.”
“Oh! A surprise! I’m sure she’ll be tickled pink.”
Logan wasn’t so sure at all. In fact, he felt a fairly alien moment of uncertainty as to exactly how Jenna would respond when she saw him. “We went to the same high school.” He knew he sounded guarded.
“We all just love that girl to pieces. She’s one of those rare women who’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She’s got a heart of gold.”
Logan was saved from responding, which was good because he didn’t know what to say anyway, when Merrilee opened a door at the top of stairs. “Here you are.” He stepped behind her into a room that was charming and inviting, but damn cold.
“We’re having a little problem with the heating upstairs,” Mrs. Swenson said.
“I’ll be fine.” As soon as his luggage containing his thermal underwear and thick socks arrived.
Aside from the cold, he immediately liked the room. As with the downstairs, it had log walls and lace-trimmed flannel curtains. An iron headboard and footboard were painted a light cream color. A homey quilt covered the mattress while a washstand, complete with antique pitcher and bowl, stood in one corner. A crocheted doily, much like those found in his grandmother’s house, topped the nightstand. Light from a bedside lamp pooled across a rag rug and the pegged wooden floor. The welcoming scent of cinnamon and apples hung faint in the room.
“The bathroom is down the hall at the other end of the landing. Just holler if you need anything.”
Food first and then directions to Jenna. See, he wasn’t desperate to see her at all. He’d eat first.
He was, after all, fully in control.
“HE’S CLEANING UP NOW AND then he’s heading over to Gus’s,” Merrilee said.
Jenna’s heart was racing in her chest. “Logan Jeffries?” Her voice came out all squeaky.
“Uh-huh,” Merrilee said. “How many Logan’s do you know from high school, sweetie?” Merrilee’s question held a teasing note.
“Only one.” And he was here. Logan Jeffries was right down the street, here in Good Riddance, Alaska. Dear God.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Well, I have no idea. The only thing he brought up was you.”
For one heart-stopping moment, a crazy thought passed through her mind…. No. Uh-uh. That was ridiculous. Over the top. Wildly romantic.
Jenna really didn’t know what Logan did for a living, so she had no clue what else could’ve brought him here. But it couldn’t be her … could it?
Merrilee continued. “He was going to surprise you. I hate to spoil that but I thought you might want a heads up. Most women do when a good-looking man is going to drop in on them.”
Surprised didn’t begin to describe it. Honestly, Jenna felt kind of weak at the knees. Then again, Logan had always affected her that way. “He still looks good?”
“Well, sugar, I have no idea what he looked like back in the day, but he looks mighty fine now. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair, pretty brown eyes and, never tell Bull I said it but, a mouth a woman could only think of as kissable. A little reserved and formal, but nice nonetheless.”
Butterflies seemed to take flight in Jenna’s stomach releasing a sweet heat she hadn’t felt in a long time. Logan had always had a great mouth. A sensual shiver ran through her. She’d fantasized numerous times about him and his sexy mouth—on her lips, her breasts, the inside of her wrist, the inside of her thighs. She’d imagined what it would feel like, how he would taste … and it had never gotten her anywhere but aroused and frustrated. She might be a virgin but she had all the working parts and certainly the desire.
“Oh, Lord.”
She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Merrilee chuckled on the other end of the line.
“Well, Ms. Jenna, is there something you’d like to tell me about Logan Jeffries? Because I’m thinking he’s not just another anybody from back home.”
Jenna glanced in the mirror. This sweater and blue jeans had been fine when she’d put it on this morning but not now, not if she was going to be seeing Logan for the first time in forever.
“Jenna?”
Jenna pulled her attention back to the conversation, away from her reflection in the mirror and the knot of anticipation and nervousness lodged in her mid-section.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. What was that?” She stuck the Closed sign on the front of the door and was already shrugging into her jacket. She pulled on her gloves and hat and wound a pink scarf around her neck, her hands slightly unsteady.
There was no option, she needed to hotfoot it home to redo her make-up and hair and change clothes. She’d be double-damned if Logan Jeffries wasn’t going to eat his heart out when he saw her again. She wasn’t holding a grudge exactly but she did have some feminine pride.
Tama met her at the door, ready to go with her. She supposed he was ready for a change of scenery.
“What’s the deal with this guy?” Merrilee said, opening the door of the shop. “Because you’re definitely rattled.”
“Well, it’s not every day that someone from back home shows up,” Jenna hedged as she stepped out into the dancing snow flurries and closed the door behind her.
“Right. Now tell me the rest of the story. Because I know you well enough to know there’s ‘a rest of the story’ somewhere in there.”
There was no hiding anything from Merrilee. Then again, it wasn’t as if her past was a state secret or anything. She came clean. “It’s water under the bridge, really. I asked him to escort me to Homecoming, back in high school. He turned me down. It’s not a big deal.” Well, okay, it had been devastating at the time and it still stung just a little. That was why she was heading home.
“He turned you down?” Merrilee sounded flatteringly shocked.
Jenna dodged a sled dog curled up on the sidewalk in front of the dry goods store, waving at Nancy who was dusting shelves inside. Nancy was a good, regular customer and she had nice nails to work with. Jenna never could remember whether they’d lived in Michigan or Wisconsin before they retired to Good Riddance. “He did, indeed.”