Lonely men in Hard Luck, Alaska, looking for women. Our town might be cold, but our hearts are warm!

Location: north of the Arctic Circle. Population: 150 (mostly men!). But the three O’Halloran brothers, who run a bush-plane charter service called Midnight Sons, are heading a campaign to bring women to town.

Brides for Brothers

Sawyer O’Halloran, the middle brother, isn’t entirely in favor of this scheme. But he considers himself immune to any woman—even the lovely Abbey Sutherland. She’s arriving in Alaska within days. However, there’s a complication...or two. She hasn’t told them she’s arriving with kids!

The Marriage Risk

Like his brothers, Charles O’Halloran has a distrust of marriage in general—and of anyone related to Catherine Harmon Fletcher in particular. She’s the woman who tried to destroy his parents’ marriage. Too bad Lanni Caldwell, the only woman he’s ever really fallen for, is Catherine’s granddaughter...

Praise for the novels of #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Ms. Macomber’s storytelling abilities are on splendid display as she charms us with rich, dynamic characters, zestful scenes and tender dialogue.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Marriage Risk

“Showcase[s] Ms. Macomber’s richly developed characters and clever dialogue.”

—RT Book Reviews on Brides for Brothers

“Macomber is a skilled storyteller.”

—Publishers Weekly

“[Debbie Macomber] demonstrates her impressive skills with characterization and her flair for humor.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Whether [Debbie Macomber] is writing lighthearted romps or more serious relationship books, her novels are always engaging stories that accurately capture the foibles of real-life men and women with warmth and humor.”

—Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

“Debbie Macomber tells women’s stories in a way no one else does.”

—BookPage

“Popular romance writer Debbie Macomber has a gift for evoking the emotions that are at the heart of the genre’s popularity.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Debbie Macomber is one of the most reliable, versatile romance writers around.”

—Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Dear Friend,

Welcome to Hard Luck, Alaska, a small community near the Arctic Circle. The town has a rich and interesting history that I hope you’ll enjoy. These books revolve around the three O’Halloran brothers—Sawyer, Charles and Christian—who own a flight service. The problem is, they’re always losing their best pilots, until the brothers decide that the way to keep these men is to recruit women to their town. That’s when the fun begins.

My husband worked on the Arctic pipeline back in the mid-1980s and came to love Alaska. Creating this series was the perfect opportunity for me to explore it for myself. Our research trip in the summer of 1994 proved to be one of the most rewarding and enjoyable experiences of my writing career. I fell hopelessly in love with Alaska—the sheer magnificence of the landscape, the vastness and beauty, the friendliness of the small towns. Even now, all these years later, I have warm memories of our time there. Wayne and I flew with bush pilots, trekked across the tundra and talked with anyone who was willing to tell us about their lives.

The Midnight Sons series holds a special place in my heart. It was the prelude to the Heart of Texas series, the Dakota books and eventually led to the Cedar Cove series. Keep in mind that the Hard Luck stories were written in the mid-1990s, before cell phones, DVDs and the internet became part of our everyday lives. Now I invite you to sit back and allow me to introduce you to some proud, stubborn, wonderful men—Alaska men—and show you what happens when they meet their matches. Women from the “lower 48.” Women a lot like you and me.

PS: I love hearing from readers. You can visit me at debbiemacomber.com, find me on Facebook or mail to P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.

Alaska Skies

Debbie Macomber

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Dear Reader

Title Page

The History of Hard Luck Alaska

Dedication

Brides for Brothers

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

The Marriage Risk

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Extract

Copyright

The History of Hard Luck, Alaska

Hard Luck, situated fifty miles north of the Arctic Circle near the Brooks Range, was founded by Adam O’Halloran and his wife, Anna, in 1931. Adam came to Alaska to make his fortune, but never found the gold strike he sought. Nevertheless, the O’Hallorans and their two young sons, Charles and David, stayed on—in part because of a tragedy that befell the family a few years later.

Other prospectors and adventurers began to move to Hard Luck, some of them bringing wives and children. The town became a stopping-off place for mail, equipment and supplies. The Harmon family arrived in 1938 to open a dry-goods store, and the Fletchers came soon after that.

When World War II began, Hard Luck’s population was fifty or sixty people all told. Some of the young men, including the O’Halloran sons, joined the armed services; Charles left for Europe in 1942, David in 1944 at the age of eighteen. Charles died during the fighting. Only David came home—with a young English war bride, Ellen Sawyer, despite the fact that he’d become engaged to Catherine Harmon shortly before going overseas. Catherine married Willie Fletcher after David’s return.

After the war, David qualified as a bush pilot. He then built some small cabins to attract the sport fishermen and hunters who were starting to come to Alaska; he also worked as a guide. Eventually he built a lodge to replace the cabins—a lodge that was later damaged by fire.

David and Ellen had three sons, born fairly late in their marriage—Charles, named after David’s brother, was born in 1960, Sawyer in 1963 and Christian in 1965.

Hard Luck had been growing slowly all this time, and by 1970 it was home to just over a hundred people. These were the years of the oil boom, when the school and community center were built by the state. After Vietnam, ex-serviceman Ben Hamilton joined the community and opened the Hard Luck Café, which became the social center of the town.

In the late 1980s, the three O’Halloran brothers formed a partnership, creating Midnight Sons, a bush-pilot operation. They were awarded the mail contract, and they also deliver fuel and other necessities to the interior. In addition, they serve as a small commuter airline, flying passengers to and from Fairbanks and within the northern Arctic.

In 1995, at the time these stories start, there are approximately one hundred and fifty people living in Hard Luck—the majority of them male.

Now, more than twenty years later, join the people here in looking back at their history—particularly the changes that occurred when Midnight Sons invited women to town. Women who transformed Hard Luck, Alaska, forever!

From Jana S

to her Three Tree Point angels,

Mary C and Ann P (RIP Jeannie A);

her forever friends and fellow readers,

Barbara S, Sherry M, Cindy C and Cindy S;

her sisters by choice, Lori F, Chris S and Lori MK.

Brides for Brothers

Prologue

June 1995

“What you really need are women.”

Sawyer O’Halloran made a show of choking on his coffee. “Women! We’ve got enough problems!”

Ben Hamilton—the Hard Luck Café’s owner, cook and just about everything else—set the coffeepot on the counter. “Didn’t you just tell me Phil Duncan’s decided to move back to Fairbanks?”

Phil was the best pilot Sawyer had. He wasn’t the first one Midnight Sons had lost to the big city, either. Every time a pilot resigned, it was a setback for the Arctic flight service.

“Yes, but Phil’s not leaving because of a woman,” Sawyer said.

“Sure he is,” Duke Porter piped up. Still clutching his mug, he slipped onto the stool next to Sawyer. “Phil quit because he couldn’t see his girlfriend as much as he wanted. He might’ve given you some phony excuse when he handed in his notice, but you know as well as I do why he quit.”

“Joe and Harlan left because of women, too. Because they couldn’t meet any, not if they were living here!” It was Ben again. The ex-Navy “stew burner”—as the O’Halloran brothers called him—obviously had strong views on the subject. Sawyer often shared his opinions, but not this time. He had half a mind to suggest Ben keep his nose out of this, but that wouldn’t be fair.

One of the problems with living in a small town, especially if you’d grown up there, was that you knew everyone, Sawyer reflected. And everyone knew you—and your business.

He might as well set up the Midnight Sons office right here in the middle of the café. His pilots routinely ate breakfast at Ben’s, and the cook was as familiar with the air charter’s troubles as the brothers were themselves.

Christian, the youngest O’Halloran, held his mug with both hands. “All right, if you won’t say it, I will,” he began, looking pointedly at Sawyer. “Ben’s right. Bringing a few women to Hard Luck would keep the crew happy.”

Sawyer didn’t really disagree with him. “We’ve got a new schoolteacher coming. A woman.” As a member of the school board, Sawyer had read over Bethany Ross’s application and been impressed with her qualifications, but he wasn’t sure the state should have hired her. She’d been born and raised in California. He still hadn’t figured out why she’d applied for a teaching position north of the Arctic Circle.

“I just hope this teacher isn’t like the last one,” John Henderson grumbled. “I flew her in, remember? I was as polite as could be, circled the area a bit, showed her the sights from the air, talked up the town. The woman wouldn’t even get off the plane.”

“I’d still like to know what you said to her,” Christian muttered.

“I didn’t say anything,” John insisted. “I mean, besides what I told you.” He squinted at Sawyer. “The new teacher’s not coming until August, is she?”

“August,” Ben repeated. “One woman.” He readjusted the stained white apron around his thick waist. “I can see it now.”

“See what?” Fool that he was, Sawyer had to ask. It went without saying that Ben would be more than happy to tell him.

“One woman will cause more problems than she’ll solve,” Ben said in a portentous voice. “Think about it, Sawyer.”

Sawyer didn’t want to think about it. All this talk of bringing in women made him uncomfortable.

“One thing’s for sure, we’re not going to let John fly her in this time,” Ralph said scornfully. “I got first dibs.”

He was answered by a loud chorus of “Like hell!” and “No way!”

“Don’t squabble!” Sawyer shouted.

Ben chuckled and slid a plate of sourdough hotcakes onto the counter toward Ralph.

“See what I mean?” the cook said under his breath. “Your men are already fighting over the new teacher, and she isn’t even arriving for months.”

Ralph lit into the hotcakes as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. Mouth full, he mumbled something about lonely bachelors.

“All right, all right,” Sawyer conceded. “Bringing a few women to Hard Luck might be a good idea, but how do you suggest we persuade them to move up here?”

“I guess we could advertise,” Christian said thoughtfully, then brightened. “Sure, we’ll advertise. It’s a good idea. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Advertise?” Sawyer glared at his brother. “What do you mean, advertise?”

“Well, we could put an ad in one of those glossy magazines women like to buy. You know, the kind with lifestyle articles.” He said the word almost reverently. “What I heard, it’s gotten to be the thing to place an ad about lonely men in Alaska seeking companionship.”

“A friend of a friend sent his picture to one of ’em,” Ralph said excitedly, “and before he knew it, he had a sackful of letters. All from women eager to meet him.”

“I want you to know right now I’m not taking off my shirt and posing for any damn picture,” Duke Porter said in an emphatic voice.

“Getting your photograph in one of those magazines isn’t as easy as it sounds,” Ralph warned after swallowing a huge bite. He shrugged. “Not that I’ve tried or anything.”

“Things are rarely as good as they sound,” Sawyer pointed out reasonably, pleased that at least one of his employees was thinking clearly.

“Those women aren’t looking for pen pals, you know,” John said. “They’re after husbands, and they aren’t the type who can be picky, either, if you catch my drift.”

“So? You guys aren’t exactly centerfold material yourselves,” Ben was quick to remind them. He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and planted both hands on the counter.

“As far as I can see,” Sawyer said, “we don’t have anything to offer women. It’s not like our good looks would induce them to move here, now is it?”

John’s face fell with disappointment. “You’re probably right.”

“What would work, then?” Christian asked. “We need to think positive, or we’re going to end up spending our lives alone.”

“I don’t have any complaints about my life,” Sawyer told his brother. Christian’s enthusiasm for this crazy idea surprised him. Sawyer was willing to go along with it, but he didn’t have much faith in its success. For one thing, he wasn’t convinced there’d be any takers. And if there were, the presence of these women might create a whole new set of problems.

“You’ve got to remember women aren’t that different from men,” Christian was saying, sounding like a TV talk-show expert.

The others stared at him, and Christian laughed. “You know what I mean. You guys came up to Hard Luck, didn’t you? Even though we’re fifty miles north of the Arctic Circle.”

“Sure,” Duke answered. “But the wages are the best around, and the living conditions aren’t bad.”

“Wages,” Christian said, removing a pen from the pocket of his plaid shirt. He made a note on his paper napkin.

“You aren’t thinking about paying women to move to Hard Luck, are you?” Sawyer would fight that idea tooth and nail. He’d be darned if he’d see his hard-earned cash wasted on such foolishness.

“We could offer women jobs, couldn’t we?” Christian asked. He glanced around to gather support from the other pilots.

“Doing what?” Sawyer demanded.

“Well...” Frowning, his brother gnawed on the end of his pen. “You’ve been saying for a long time that we need to get the office organized. How about hiring a secretary? You and I have enough to do dealing with everything else. It’s a mess, and we can’t seem to get ahead.”

Sawyer resisted the urge to suggest a correspondence course in time management. “All right,” he said grudgingly.

The other pilots looked up from their breakfasts. They were beginning to take notice.

“What about all those books your mother left behind after she married Frank?” Ben asked. “She donated them so Hard Luck could have a library.”

Sawyer gritted his teeth. “A volunteer library.”

“But someone’s got to organize it,” Christian said. “I’ve tried now and then, but whenever I start to get things straightened out, I’m overwhelmed. There must be a thousand books there.”

Sawyer couldn’t really object, since, unlike Christian, he’d never made any effort to put his mother’s collection in order.

“That was very generous of your mother, giving the town her books,” Ralph said. “But it’s a shame we can’t find what we want or check it out if we do.”

“It seems to me,” Christian said, smiling broadly, “that we could afford to pay someone to set up the library and run it for a year or so. Don’t you agree?”

Sawyer shrugged. “If Charles does.” But they both knew their oldest brother would endorse the idea. He’d been wanting to get the library going for quite a while.

“I heard Pearl say she was thinking of moving to Nenana to live with her daughter,” Ben told the gathering. “In that case, the town’s going to need someone with medical experience for the health clinic.”

A number of heads nodded. Sawyer suspected now was not the time to remind everyone that Pearl regularly mentioned moving in with her daughter. Generally the sixty-year-old woman came up with that idea in the darkest part of winter, when there were only a couple of hours of daylight and spirits were low.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ben said, turning to Sawyer. “But did it ever occur to you that Pearl actually would leave if someone was here to take over for her?”

No, Sawyer hadn’t. Pearl had lived in Hard Luck for as long as he could remember. She’d been a friend of his mother’s when Ellen lived in Hard Luck, and a peacemaker in the small community. Over the years Sawyer had frequently had opportunity to be grateful to Pearl. If she did decide to move, he’d miss her.

“We can ask her if she’s serious about wanting to retire,” Sawyer agreed, despite his reluctance. “But I won’t have Pearl thinking we don’t want her.”

“I’ll talk to her myself,” Christian promised.

“I could use a bit of help around here,” Ben said. “I’ve been feeling my age of late.”

“You mean feeling your oats, don’t you?” John teased.

Ben grinned. “Go ahead and add a part-time cook and waitress to your list.”

There were smiles all around. Sawyer hated to be the one to put a damper on all these plans, but someone had to open their eyes to a few truths. “Has anyone figured out where these women are going to live?”

It was almost comical to see the smiles fall in unison, as if they were marionettes and a puppet master was working their mouths. Still, Sawyer had to admit he was beginning to warm to the idea of recruiting women. Hard Luck could do with a few new faces and he wouldn’t object if those faces happened to be young, female and pretty. Not that he was the marrying kind. No, sirree. Not Sawyer O’Halloran. Not after what he’d seen with his parents. Their unhappiness had taught him early and taught him well that marriage meant misery. Although, in his opinion, Catherine Fletcher bore a lot of the blame....

He shook his head. Marriage was definitely out, and he suspected his two brothers felt the same way. They must. Neither of them seemed inclined toward marriage, either.

He returned his attention to the dilemma at hand. No one appeared to have any answers to his question about where these women would live, and Sawyer felt obligated to point out the less-than-favorable aspects of their plan. The more he considered it, the more certain he became that this idea was impossible. Attractive, perhaps—especially in a moment of weakness—but impossible.

“It wouldn’t have worked, anyway,” he said.

“Why not?” his brother asked.

“Women are never satisfied with the status quo. They’d move to Hard Luck and immediately want to change things.” Sawyer had seen it before. “Well, I don’t want things changed. We have it good here.”

“Yeah,” Ralph agreed, but without much enthusiasm.

“Before we knew it,” Sawyer continued, “the ladies would have rings on their fingers and rings through our noses, and they’d be leading us around like...like sheep. Worse, they’d convince us that’s the way we want it.”

“Nope. Not going to happen to me,” John vowed. “Unless...”

Not giving him a chance to weaken, Sawyer went on. “We’d be making runs into Fairbanks for low-fat ice cream because one or other of them has a craving for chocolate without the calories.” Sawyer could picture it now. “They’d want us to watch our language and turn the TV off during dinner and shave every day...and...”

“You’re right,” Duke said with conviction. “A woman would probably want me to shave off my beard.”

The men grimaced as if they could already feel the razor.

Women in Hard Luck would have his pilots wrapped around their little fingers within a week, Sawyer thought. And after that, his men wouldn’t be worth a damn.

Christian hadn’t spoken for several minutes. Now he slowly rubbed his hand along his jaw. “What about the cabins?”

“The old hunting cabins your father built on the outskirts of town?” Ralph asked.

Sawyer and Christian exchanged a look. “Those are the ones,” Christian said. “Dad built them back in the fifties before the lodge was completed—you know, the lodge that burned down? Folks would fly in for hunting and fishing and he’d put them up there. They’re simple, one medium-size room without any conveniences.”

“No one’s lived in those cabins for years,” Sawyer reminded his brother.

“But they’re solid, and other than a little dirt there’s nothing wrong with them. Someone could live there. Easily.” Christian’s voice rose as he grew excited about the idea. “With a little soap and water and a few minor repairs, they’d be livable in nothing flat.”

Sawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A city gal would take one look at those cabins and leave on the next flight out. “But there isn’t any running water or electricity.”

“No,” Christian agreed, “not yet.”

Now Sawyer understood, and he didn’t like it. “I’m not putting any money into fixing up those run-down shacks.” Charles would have a fit if he let Christian talk him into doing anything so stupid.

“Those old cabins aren’t worth much, are they?” Christian asked.

Sawyer hesitated. He recognized his brother’s tone. Christian had something up his sleeve.

“No,” Sawyer admitted cautiously.

“Then it wouldn’t hurt to give the cabins away.”

“Give them away?” Sawyer echoed. It stood to reason that no one would pay for them. Who’d want them anyway, even if they were free?

“We’re going to need something to induce women to move to Hard Luck,” Christian said. “We aren’t offering them marriage.”

“Damn right we’re not.” John gulped down a slug of coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Companionship is all I’m interested in,” another of the pilots added. “Female companionship.”

“We don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking this is about marriage.”

“Exactly.”

Sawyer looked around the room at his pilots. “Marriage is what practically all women are after,” he said with more certainty than he actually felt.

“There’s plenty of jobs in the lower forty-eight,” Christian said in a perfectly reasonable tone. This was always where Sawyer ran into trouble with his younger brother. Christian could propose the most ridiculous idea in the most logical way. “True?”

“True,” Sawyer agreed warily.

“So, like I said before, we’ve got to offer these women some incentive to live and work in Hard Luck.”

“You want to give them the cabins?” Sawyer scratched his head. “As an incentive?”

“Sure. Then if they want to bring in electricity and running water they can do it with their own money.”

Sawyer checked around to see what the others were thinking. He couldn’t find a dissenting look among them. Not on Ben’s face and certainly not on any of the others. He should’ve known Christian’s idea would take root in the fertile minds of his women-starved men.

“We’d clean up the cabins a bit first,” Christian said as though this was the least they could do.

“We found a bear in one of them last year,” Sawyer reminded his brother.

“That bear didn’t mean any harm,” Ralph said confidently. “He was just having a look around, is all. I doubt he’ll be back after the shot of pepper spray Mitch gave him.”

Sawyer just shook his head, bemused.

“But it might not be smart to mention the bear to any of the women,” Ben was quick to add. “Women are funny about wild critters.”

“Yeah,” John said in hushed tones, “take my word for it—don’t say anything about the wildlife.”

“Say anything?” Sawyer asked. The men made it sound like he was going to personally interview each applicant.

“To the women when you talk to them,” Ralph explained with exaggerated patience.

“I’m going to be talking to these women?”

“Why, sure,” Duke said, as if that had been understood from the beginning. “You’ll have to interview them, you or Christian. Especially if you’re going to offer them housing when they accept a job in Hard Luck.”

“You’d better throw in some land while you’re at it,” Ben said, reaching for the coffeepot. He refilled the mugs and set the pot back on the burner. “You O’Hallorans got far more of it than you know what to do with. Offer the women a cabin and twenty acres of land if they’ll live and work in Hard Luck for one year.”

“Great idea!”

“Just like the old days when the settlers first got here.”

“Those cabins aren’t on any twenty acres.” Sawyer raised his arms to stop the discussion. “It’d be misleading to let anyone think they were, or that—”

“No one said the cabins had to be on acreage, did they?” Duke broke in. “Besides, to my way of thinking, people shouldn’t look a gift house in the mouth.” He chuckled at his own feeble joke. “House, get it? Not horse.”

“A year sounds fair,” Christian said decisively, ignoring him. “If it doesn’t work out, then they’re free to leave, no hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings.” John nodded happily.

“Now, just a minute,” Sawyer said. Was he the only one here who possessed any sense? He’d come into the Hard Luck Café for a simple cup of coffee, discouraged by the news that Phil was leaving. The morning had rapidly gone from bad to worse.

“How are we going to let women know about your offer?” Ralph asked.

“We’ll run some ads like we said,” Christian told him. “But maybe not in magazines. That’ll take too long. I’ve got a business trip planned to Seattle, so we can put ads in the papers there and I’ll interview the women who apply.”

“Hold on,” Sawyer said, frowning. “We can’t go giving away those cabins, never mind the acreage, without talking to Charles first. Besides, there are antidiscrimination laws that make it illegal to advertise a job for women only.”

Christian grinned. “There’re ways around that.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “But we really do need to discuss this with Charles.” Their oldest brother was a silent partner in the O’Hallorans’ air charter service. He should have a voice in this decision; after all, they’d be giving away family-owned cabins and land.

“There isn’t time for that,” Christian argued. “Charles’ll go along with it. You know he will. He hasn’t paid that much attention to the business since he started working for Alaska Oil.”

“You’d better have an attorney draw up some kind of contract,” Ben suggested.

“Right.” Christian added that to his list. “I’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll write the ad this morning and see about getting it in the Seattle paper. It might be best if we placed it in another city, as well. It wouldn’t be much trouble to go down to Oregon and interview women from Portland. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Hey, good idea,” John murmured.

“I’ll design the application,” Sawyer said reluctantly. This was happening much too fast. “You know, guys...” He hated to throw another wrench in the works, but someone needed a clear head, and it was obvious he’d been elected. “If any woman’s foolish enough to respond, those old cabins had better be in decent shape. It’s going to take a lot of work.”

“I’ll help,” John said enthusiastically.

“Me, too.”

“I expect we all will.” Duke drained the last of his coffee, then narrowed his gaze on Christian. “Just make sure you get a blonde for me.”

“A blonde,” Christian repeated.

Sawyer closed his eyes and groaned. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

One

It had been one of those days. Abbey Sutherland made herself a cup of tea, then sat in the large overstuffed chair and propped her feet on the ottoman. She closed her eyes, soaking in the silence.

The morning had started badly when Scott overslept, which meant he and Susan had missed the school bus. Seven-year-old Susan had insisted on wearing her pink sweater, which was still in the dirty-clothes hamper, and she’d whined all the way to school. Abbey had driven them, catching every red light en route.

By the time she arrived at the library, she was ten minutes late. Mrs. Duffy gave her a look that could have curdled milk.

But those minor irritations faded after lunch. Abbey received notice that the library’s budget for the next fiscal year had been reduced and two positions would be cut—the positions held by the most recently hired employees. In other words, Abbey was going to lose her job in less than three months.

She finally got home at six o’clock, tired, short-tempered and depressed. That was when Mr. Erickson, the manager of the apartment complex, hand-delivered a note informing her the rents were being raised.

It was the kind of day even hot fudge couldn’t salvage.

Sensing her mood, the kids had acted up all evening. Abbey was exhausted, and she didn’t think reruns of Matlock were going to help.

Sipping her tea, she wondered what had happened to throw her life off course. She had a savings account, but there wasn’t enough in it to pay more than a month’s worth of bills. She refused to go to her parents for money. Not again. It had been too humiliating the first time, although they’d been eager to help. Not once had her mother or father said “I told you so,” when she filed for divorce, although they’d issued plenty of warnings when she’d announced her intention to marry Dick Sutherland. They’d been right. Five years and two children later, Abbey had returned to Seattle emotionally battered, brokenhearted and just plain broke.

Her parents had helped her back on her feet despite their limited income and lent her money to finish her education. Abbey had painstakingly repaid every penny, but it had taken her almost three years.

The newspaper, still rolled up, lay at her feet, and she picked it up. She might as well start reading through the want ads now, although she wasn’t likely to find another job as an assistant librarian. With cuts in local government spending, positions in libraries were becoming rare these days. But if she was willing to relocate...

“Mom.” Scott stood beside her chair.

“Yes?” She climbed out of her depression long enough to manage a smile for her nine-year-old son.

“Jason’s dog had her puppies.”

Abbey felt her chest tighten. Scott had been asking for a dog all year. “Honey, we’ve already been over this a hundred times. The apartment complex doesn’t allow pets.”

“I didn’t say I wanted one,” he said defensively. “All I said was that Jason’s dog had puppies. I know I can’t have a dog as long as we live here, but I was thinking that maybe with the rent increase we might move.”

“And if we do move,” Abbey said, “you want me to look for a place where we can have a dog.”

Her son grinned broadly. “Jason’s puppies are really, really cute, Mom. And they’re valuable, too! But you know what kind are my favorite?”

She did, but she played along. “Tell me.”

“Huskies.”

“Because the University of Washington mascot is a husky.”

“Yeah. They have cool eyes, don’t they? And I really like the way their tails loop up. I know they’re too big for me to have as a pet, but I still like them best.”

Abbey held out her arm to her son. He didn’t cuddle with her much anymore. That was kid stuff to a boy who was almost ten. But tonight he seemed willing to forget that.

He clambered into the chair next to her, rested his head against her shoulder and sighed. “I’m sorry I overslept this morning,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“That’s all right.” There was a pause. “I promise to get out of bed when you call from now on, okay?”

“Okay.” Abbey closed her eyes, breathing in the clean shampoo scent of his hair.

They sat together for a few more minutes, saying nothing.

“You’d better get back to bed,” Abbey said, although she was reluctant to see him go.

Scott climbed out of the chair. “Are we going to move?” he asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

“I guess we are,” she said and smiled.

“’Night, Mom.” Scott smiled, too, then walked down the hall to his bedroom.

Abbey’s heart felt a little lighter as she picked up the paper and peeled off the rubber band. She didn’t bother to look at the front page, but turned directly to the classifieds.

The square box with the large block printing attracted her attention immediately. “LONELY MEN IN HARD LUCK, ALASKA, OFFER JOBS, HOMES AND LAND.” Below in smaller print was a list of the positions open.

Abbey’s heart stopped when she saw “librarian.”

Hard Luck, Alaska. Jobs. A home with land. Twenty acres. Good grief, that was more than her grandfather had owned when he grew raspberries in Puyallup a generation earlier.

Dragging out an atlas, Abbey flipped through the pages until she found Alaska. Her finger ran down the list of town names until she came across Hard Luck. Population 150.

She swallowed. A small town generally meant a sense of community. That excited her. As a girl, she’d spent summers on her grandparents’ farm and loved it. She wanted to give her children the same opportunity. She was sure the three of them could adjust to life in a small town. In Alaska.

Using the atlas’s directions to locate the town, Abbey drew her finger across one side of the page and down the other.

Her excitement died. Hard Luck was above the Arctic Circle. Oh, dear. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea, after all.

* * *

The following morning, Abbey reviewed her options.

She set out a box of cold cereal, along with a carton of milk. A still-sleepy Scott and Susan pulled out chairs and sat at the table.

“Kids,” she said, drawing a deep breath, “what would you say if I suggested we move to Alaska?”

“Alaska?” Scott perked up right away. “That’s where they have huskies!”

“Yes, I know.”

“It’s cold there, isn’t it?” Susan asked.

“Very cold. Colder than it’s ever been in Seattle.”

“Colder than Texas?”

“Lots colder,” Scott said in a superior older-brother tone. “It’s so cold you don’t even need refrigerators, isn’t that right, Mom?”

“Uh, I think they probably still use them.”

“But they wouldn’t need to if they didn’t have electricity. Right?”

“Right.”

“Could I have a dog there?”

Abbey weighed her answer carefully. “We’d have to find that out after we arrived.”

“Would Grandma and Grandpa come and visit?” Susan asked.

“I’m sure they would, and if they didn’t, we could visit them.”

Scott poured cereal into his bowl until it threatened to spill over.

“I read an ad in the paper last night. Hard Luck, Alaska, needs a librarian, and it looks like I’m going to need a new job soon.”

Scott and Susan didn’t comment.

“I didn’t think it would be fair to call and ask for an interview without discussing it with both of you first.”

“You should go for it,” Scott advised, but Abbey could see visions of huskies in her son’s bright blue eyes.

“It’ll mean a big change for all of us.”

“Is there snow all the time?” Susan wanted to know.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll ask.” Abbey hesitated, wondering exactly how much she should tell her children. “The ad said the job comes with a cabin and twenty acres of land.”

The spoon was poised in front of Scotty’s mouth. “To keep?”

Abbey nodded. “But we’d need to live there for a year. I imagine there won’t be many applicants, but then I don’t know. There doesn’t seem to be an abundance of jobs for assistant librarians, either.”

“I could live anywhere for a year. Go for it, Mom!”

“Susan?” Abbey suspected the decision would be more difficult for her daughter.

“Will there be girls my age?”

“Probably, but I can’t guarantee that. The town only has 150 people, and it would be very different from the life we have here in Seattle.”

“Come on, Susan,” Scott urged. “We could have our very own house.”

Susan’s small shoulders heaved in a great sigh. “Do you want to move, Mommy?”

Abbey stroked her daughter’s hair. Call her greedy. Call her materialistic. Call her a sucker, but she couldn’t stop thinking about those twenty acres and that cabin. No mortgage. Land. Security. And a job she loved. All in Hard Luck, Alaska.

She inhaled deeply, then nodded.

“Then I guess it would be all right.”

Scott let out a holler and leapt from his chair. He grabbed Abbey’s hands and they danced around the room.

“I haven’t got the job yet,” Abbey cried, breathless.

“But you’ll get it,” Scott said confidently.

Abbey hoped her son was right.

Two

Abbey took several calming breaths before walking up to the hotel desk and giving her name.

“Mr. O’Halloran’s taking interviews in the Snoqualmie Room on the second floor,” the clerk told her.

Abbey’s fingers tightened around her résumé as she headed for the escalator. Her heart pounded heavily, feeling like a lead weight in her chest.

Her decision to apply for this position had understandably received mixed reactions. Both Scott and Susan were excited about the prospect of a new life in Hard Luck, but Abbey’s parents were hesitant.

Marie Murray would miss spoiling her grandchildren. Abbey’s father, Wayne, was convinced she didn’t know what she’d be getting into moving to the frozen north. But he seemed to forget that she made her living in a library. Soon after placing the initial call, Abbey had checked out a number of excellent books about life in Alaska. Her research had told her everything she wanted to know—and more.

Nevertheless, she’d already decided to accept the job if it was offered. No matter how cold the winters were, living in Hard Luck would be better than having to accept money from her parents.

Abbey found the Snoqualmie Room easily enough and glanced inside. A lean, rawboned man in his early thirties sat at a table reading intently. The hotel staff must have thought applicants would arrive thirsty, because they’d supplied a pitcher of ice water and at least two dozen glasses.

“Hello,” she said with a polite smile. “I’m Abbey Sutherland.”

“Abbey.” The man stood abruptly as if she’d caught him unawares. “I’m Christian O’Halloran. We spoke on the phone.” He motioned to the seat on the other side of the table. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She sat and handed him her résumé.

He barely looked at it before setting it aside. “Thank you. I’ll read this later.”

Abbey nervously folded her hands in her lap and waited.

“You’re applying for the position of librarian, right?”

“Yes. I’m working toward my degree in library science.”

“In other words, you’re not a full librarian.”

“That’s correct. In Washington state, a librarian is required to have a master’s degree in library science. For the last two years I’ve worked as an assistant librarian for King County.” She paused. Christian O’Halloran was difficult to read. “I answer reference questions, do quick information retrieval and customer service, and of course I have computer skills.” She hesitated, wondering if she should continue.

“That sounds perfect. Hard Luck doesn’t exactly have a library at the moment. We do have a building of sorts....”

“Books?”

“Oh, yes, hundreds of those. At least a thousand. They were a gift to the town, and we need someone who’s capable of handling every aspect of organizing a library.”

“I’d be fully capable of that.” She listed a number of responsibilities she’d handled in her job with the King County library system. Somehow, though, Abbey couldn’t shake the feeling that Christian O’Halloran wasn’t really interested in hearing about her qualifications.

He mentioned the pay, and although it wasn’t as much as she was earning with King County, she wouldn’t need to worry about rent.

A short silence followed, almost as if he wasn’t sure what else to ask.

“Could you tell me a little about the library building?” she ventured.

He nodded. “Actually it was a home at one time—my grandfather’s original homestead, in fact—but I don’t think you’d have much of a problem turning it into a library, would you?”

“Probably not.”

Already, Abbey’s mind was at work, dividing up the house. One of the bedrooms could be used for fiction, another for nonfiction. The dining room would be perfect for a reading room, or it could be set up as an area for children.

“You understand that life in Hard Luck isn’t going to be anything like Seattle,” Christian commented, breaking into her thoughts.

Her father had said that very thing the day before. “I realize that.” She paused for a moment. “Could I ask you about the house and the land you’re offering?”

“Of course.”

“Well, uh, could you tell me about the house?”

She waited.

“It’s more of a cabin, and I’d describe it as...rustic.” He seemed to stumble on the word. “It definitely has a...rural feel. Don’t get me wrong, it’s comfortable, but it’s different from what you’re used to.”

“I’m sure it is. Tell me about Hard Luck.”

The man across from her relaxed. “It’s probably the most beautiful place on earth. You might think I’m prejudiced and I can’t very well deny it. I guess you’ll have to form your own opinion.

“In summer there’s sunlight nearly twenty-four hours a day. That’s when the wildflowers bloom. I swear every color under the sun bursts to life almost overnight. The forests and tundra turn scarlet and gold and burnt orange.”

“It sounds lovely.” And it did. “What about the winters?”

“Oh, yes. Well, again, it’s beautiful, but the beauty is kind of...stark. Pristine’s a good word. I don’t think anyone’s really lived until they’ve seen our light show.”

“The aurora borealis.”

Christian smiled approvingly. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he continued. “It gets mighty cold. In winter it isn’t uncommon for the temperature to drop to forty or fifty below.”

“My goodness.” Although Abbey knew this, hearing him say it reinforced the reality.

“On those days, almost everything closes down. We don’t generally fly when it’s that cold. It’s too hard on the planes, and even harder on the pilots.”

Abbey nodded; he’d told her about Midnight Sons, the O’Halloran brothers’ air charter service, during their phone conversation.

“What about everything else?” she asked. “Like the school. Does it close down, too?” He’d also explained in their previous conversation that Hard Luck had a school that went from kindergarten to twelfth grade.

“Life in town comes to a standstill, and we all sort of snuggle together. There’s nothing to do in weather that cold but wait it out. Most days, we manage to keep the school open, though.” He shrugged. “We rely on one another in Hard Luck. We have to.”

“What about food?”

“We’ve got a grocery store. It’s not a supermarket, mind you, but it carries the essentials. Everyone in town stocks up on supplies once a year. But if you run out of anything, there’s always the grocery. If Pete Livengood—he’s the guy who owns it—if he doesn’t have what you need, one of the pilots can pick it up for you. Midnight Sons makes daily flights into Fairbanks, so it isn’t like you’re stuck there.”

“What about driving to Fairbanks? When I looked up Hard Luck, I couldn’t make out any roads. There is one, isn’t there?”

“Sure there is—in a manner of speaking,” Christian said proudly. “We got ourselves a haul road a few years back.”

Abbey was relieved. If she did get the job, she’d have to have her furniture and other household effects delivered; without a road, that would obviously have been a problem. Flying them was sure to be prohibitively expensive.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” she asked.

“None.” Christian looked at his watch. “Would you mind filling out the application form while you’re here? I’ll be holding interviews for the next day or so. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon, if that’s all right.”

Abbey stood. “That’d be fine.”

Christian gave her the one-page application, which she completed quickly and gave back to him.

He rose from behind the table and extended his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too.” Even before she’d come in for the interview, she’d known she’d accept the position if it was offered to her. She needed a job, needed to support her family. If that meant traveling to the ends of the earth, she’d do it. But as she turned to walk away, Abbey realized she not only needed this position, she wanted it. Badly.

She loved the idea of creating her own library. But it wasn’t just the challenge of the job that excited her. She’d watched this man’s eyes light up as he talked about his home. When he said Hard Luck was beautiful, he’d said it with sincerity, with passion. When he told her about the tundra and the forest, she could imagine their beauty. She’d seen plenty of photographs and even a National Geographic documentary, but it was his words that truly convinced her. More than that, excited her.

“Mr. O’Halloran?” she said, surprising herself.

He was already seated, leafing intently through a sheaf of papers. He glanced up. “Yes?”

“If you decide to hire me, I promise I’ll do a good job for you and the people in Hard Luck.”

He nodded. “And I promise I’ll phone you soon.”

* * *

“Well?” Scott looked at Abbey expectantly when she walked into the house. “How’d the interview go?”

Abbey slipped off her pumps and curled her toes into the carpet. “Fine—I think.”

“Will you get the job?”

Abbey didn’t want to build up her son’s hopes. “I don’t know, honey. Where’s Missy?” Since she paid the teenage babysitter top dollar, she expected her to stay with Scott and Susan for the agreed-upon number of hours.

“Her mother wanted her to put a roast in the oven at four-thirty. Susan went with her. They’ll be back soon.”

Abbey collapsed into her favorite chair and dangled her arms over the sides. Her feet rested on the ottoman.

“Are you finished your homework?” she asked.

“I don’t have any. There’s only a couple more weeks left of school.”

“I know.”

Abbey dreaded the summer months. Every year, day camp and babysitting were more and more expensive. Scott was getting old enough to resent having a teenager stay with him. Not that Abbey blamed him. Before she knew it, her son would be thirteen himself.

“Would it be okay if I went over to Jason’s house?” he asked eagerly. “I’ll be home in time for dinner.”

Abbey nodded, but she knew it wasn’t the other boy he was interested in seeing. It was those puppies that’d captured his nine-year-old heart.

* * *

Sawyer walked into the long, narrow structure that sat next to the gravel-and-dirt runway. The mobile served as the office for Midnight Sons. Eventually they hoped to build a real office. That had been on the agenda for the past eight years—ever since they’d started the business. During those years, Charles and Sawyer had built their own homes. Sawyer’s was across the street from Christian’s place, which had been the O’Halloran family home. Charles’s house was one street over—not that there were paved streets in Hard Luck.

But they’d been too busy running Midnight Sons—flying cargo and passengers, hiring pilots, negotiating contracts and all the other myriad responsibilities that came with a business like theirs. Constructing an office building was just another one of those things they hadn’t gotten around to doing.

Exhausted, Sawyer threw himself down on the hard-backed swivel chair at Christian’s desk. Cleaning those old cabins was proving to be hard work. Much more of this, he thought ruefully, and he was going to end up with dishpan hands.

He’d been astonished—and impressed—by the willingness of their pilots to pitch in and make those old cabins livable. One thing was for sure; the log structures were solid. A few minor repairs, lots of soapy water and a little attention had done wonders. Not that a forty-year-old log cabin was going to impress a city girl. More than likely, the women Christian hired would take one look at those shacks and book the next flight south.

The phone pealed and Sawyer reached for it. As he did, he noticed the message light blinking.

“Midnight Sons.”

“Where have you been all day?” Christian grumbled. “I’ve left three messages. I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to call me back.”

“Sorry,” Sawyer muttered, biting back the temptation to offer to trade places. While Christian was gallivanting all over kingdom come securing airplane parts, talking to travel agents, meeting women and generally having a good time, Sawyer had been wielding a mop and pail. In Sawyer’s opinion, his younger brother had gotten the better end of this deal. As for himself, he’d seen enough cobwebs in the past week to last him a lifetime.

“You can tell Duke I found him a blonde,” Christian announced triumphantly. “Her name’s Allison Reynolds, and she’s going to be our secretary—well, maybe.”

Sawyer’s jaw tightened as he made an effort to hold back his irritation. “What’re her qualifications?”

“You mean other than being blonde?” Christian asked, then chuckled. “I’m telling you, Sawyer, I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. I placed the ad in the Seattle paper, and the answering service has been swamped. There are a lot of lonely women in this world.”

“Does our new secretary know she’ll be living in a log cabin without the comforts of home?”

“Naturally I told her about the cabin, but, uh, I didn’t have a chance to go into all the details.”

“Christian! That’s hardly a detail. She’ll be expecting to see modern plumbing, not a path to the outhouse. Women don’t like that kind of surprise.”

“I didn’t want to scare her off,” he argued.

“She deserves the truth.”

“I know, I know. Actually I offered her the position and she’s thinking it over. If she decides to accept the job, I’ll give her more information.”

“You mean to tell me that out of all the women who applied, you chose one who isn’t even sure she wants the job?” Sawyer didn’t often fly off the handle, but his brother was annoying him more than usual.

“Trust me, Allison wants the position,” Christian insisted. “She just needs to think about it. I would, too, in the circumstances.” He paused. “Our ad certainly attracted a lot of attention.”

Sawyer had carefully gone over the ad they’d submitted to the Seattle and Portland papers. He’d been concerned that they not inadvertently put in anything that might be misleading or violate the antidiscrimination laws. So there was nothing in the ad to suggest a man couldn’t apply. No one wanted to deal with a lawsuit a few weeks down the road.

“I must’ve talked to at least thirty women in the past couple of days,” Christian said, his voice ringing with enthusiasm. “And there were that many more phone inquiries.”

“What about a librarian? Has anyone applied for that?”

“A few, but not nearly as many as for the position of secretary. The minute I met Allison—”

“Does she type?”

“She must,” Christian answered. “She works in an office.”

“Didn’t you give her a test?” Sawyer asked, not bothering to conceal his disgust.

“What for? It isn’t like she’ll need a hundred words a minute, is it?”

Sawyer rubbed his face. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Wait until you meet her, Sawyer,” Christian said happily. “She’s a knockout.”

“Oh, great.” He could picture it already. His crew would be hanging around the office, tongues hanging out over a dizzy blonde, instead of flying. Midnight Sons didn’t need this kind of trouble.

“Don’t worry about it,” his brother said. “I’ve made a lot of progress. You should be pleased.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’ve done much of anything.” Sawyer was fuming. He’d hoped—obviously a futile hope—that Christian would use a bit of common sense.

“Listen, I haven’t made up my mind which woman to hire for our librarian. There were a couple of excellent applicants.”

“Any blondes?” Sawyer asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, one, but she looked too fragile to last. I liked her, though. There’s another one who seemed to really want the job. It makes me wonder why she’d leave a cushy job here in Seattle for Hard Luck. It’s not like we’re offering great benefits.”

“But a house and twenty acres sounds like a lot,” Sawyer said from between clenched teeth.

“You think I should hire her?”

He sighed. “If she’s qualified and she wants the job, then by all means, hire her.”

“Okay. I’ll give her a call as soon as we’re finished and make the arrangements.”

“Just a minute.” Sawyer shoved one hand through his hair. “Is she pretty?” He was quickly losing faith in his brother’s judgment. Christian had already decided on a secretary, and he didn’t know if she could so much as file. Heaven help them all if he hired the rest of the applicants based on their looks rather than their qualifications.

Christian hesitated. “I suppose you could say the librarian’s pretty, but she isn’t going to bowl you over the way Allison will. She’s just sort of regular pretty. Brown hair and eyes, average height. Cute upturned nose.

“Now with Allison, well, there’s no comparison. We’re talking sexy here. Wait until John gets a look at her...front,” Christian said, and chuckled. “She’s swimsuit-issue material.”

“Hire her!” Sawyer snapped.

“Allison? I already have, but she wants twenty-four hours to think it over. I told you that.”

“I meant the librarian.”

“Oh, all right, if you think I should.”

Sawyer propped his elbows on the desk and shook his head. “Anything else you called to tell me about?”

“Not much. I’m not doing any more interviews for now. Allison and the librarian, plus the new teacher, that’s three—enough to start with. Let’s see how things work out. I’ve collected a couple of dozen résumés, and I’ll save them for future reference. Unless I find a cook for Ben or—”

“Don’t hire any more,” Sawyer insisted. He was well aware that he sounded short-tempered, but frankly he was and he didn’t care if his brother knew it.

“Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you. If Allison does take the job, she won’t be able to start right away. Apparently she’s booked a vacation with a friend. I told her that’s okay. We’ve waited this long. Another couple of weeks won’t matter.”

“Why don’t you ask her if next year would be convenient?”

“Very funny. What’s wrong with you? I get the feeling you’re envious—not that I blame you. I wish we’d thought of this a long time ago. Meeting and talking to all these women is a lot of fun. See you.”

The phone went dead in Sawyer’s hand.

* * *

Abbey’s spirits were low. Dragging-in-the-gutter low. She hadn’t got the job. O’Halloran would’ve phoned by now if he’d decided to hire her.

Scott and Susan, ever sensitive to her moods, pushed their dinner around their plates. No one seemed to have much of an appetite.

“It doesn’t look like I got the job in Alaska,” she told them. There wasn’t any reason to keep her children’s hopes alive. “Mr. O’Halloran, the man who interviewed me, was supposed to call this afternoon if he’d chosen me.”

“That’s all right, Mom,” Scott said with a brave smile. “You’ll find something else.”

“I wanted to go to Alaska,” Susan said, her lower lip trembling. “I told everyone at school we were moving.”

“We are.” Abbey knew this was of little comfort, but she threw it in, anyway. “It just so happens that we won’t be moving to Alaska.”

“Can we visit there someday?” Scott asked. “I liked what we read in those books you brought home. It seems like a great place.”

“Someday.” Someday, Abbey realized, could be a magical word, filled with the promise of a brighter tomorrow. At the moment, though, it just sounded bleak.

The phone rang, and both Susan and Scott twisted around, looking eagerly at the kitchen wall. Neither of them moved. Abbey didn’t allow the dinner hour to be interrupted by phone calls.

“The machine will pick up the message,” she told them unnecessarily.

After the fourth ring, the answering machine automatically clicked on. Everyone went still, straining to hear who’d phoned.

“This is Christian O’Halloran.”

“Mom!” Scott cried excitedly.

Abbey flew across the kitchen, ripping the phone off the hook. “Mr. O’Halloran,” she said breathlessly, “hello.”

“Hello,” Christian responded. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“I’m glad you caught me, too. Have you made your decision?” She hated to sound so eager, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“You’ve got the job, if you still want it.”

“I do,” Abbey said, giving Scott and Susan a thumbs-up. Her son and daughter stabbed triumphant fists in the air.

“When can you start?”

Abbey was certain the library would let her leave with minimal notice. “Whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“How about next week?” Christian asked. “I won’t return from my business trip until the end of the month, but I’ll arrange for my brother Sawyer to meet you in Fairbanks.”

“Next week?”

“Is that too soon?”

“No, no,” she said quickly, fearing he might change his mind. She could take the kids out of school a week early, and she wouldn’t need much time to pack their belongings. Her mother would help, and whatever they didn’t take with them on the plane—like their furniture—she could have shipped later.

“I’ll see you in Hard Luck, then.”

“Thank you. I can’t tell you how pleased I am,” she said. “Oh, before I hang up...” she began, thinking she should probably mention the fact that she’d be bringing Scott and Susan. Despite the provision of housing, there was nothing on the application asking about children or family.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Allison,” Christian said.

“Excuse me?”

“My dinner date just arrived,” he told her. “As I explained, my brother will meet you in Fairbanks. I’ll have the travel agency call you to make the arrangements for your ticket.”

“You’re paying my airfare?”

“Of course. And don’t worry about packing for the winter. You can buy what you need once you arrive.”

“But—”

“I wish I had more time to answer your questions,” he said distractedly. “Sawyer’s really the one who can tell you what you need to know.”

“Mr. O’Halloran—”

“Good luck, Abbey.”

“Thank you.” She gave up trying. He’d learn about Scott and Susan when he returned. As far as she was concerned, the town was getting a great librarian—plus a bonus!

* * *

“You sure you don’t want me to fly in and meet the new librarian this afternoon?” John Henderson asked, straddling the chair across from Sawyer. His hair had been dampened and combed down, and it looked as if he was wearing a new shirt.

“Be my guest.” You’d think the Queen of England was flying in judging by the way folks in Hard Luck were behaving. Duke had arrived at Ben’s this morning clean-shaven and spiffed up, smelling pungently of aftershave. Sawyer hid a grin. The next woman would follow in a few days, and he wondered how long it would take for everyone to get tired of these welcoming parties.

“You’ll let John pick up the new librarian over my dead body,” Duke barked. “We all know what happened the last time he flew a woman into Hard Luck.”

“I keep telling you that wasn’t my fault.”

“Forget it! I’ll pick her up.” Sawyer looked away from his squabbling pilots in disgust and happened to notice the blackboard where Ben wrote out the daily lunch and dinner specials.

“Beef Wellington?” he asked.

“You got a problem with Beef Wellington?” Ben muttered belligerently. “I’m just trying to show our new librarian that we’re a civilized bunch.”

In Sawyer’s opinion, this whole project didn’t show a lot of promise. He’d bet none of these women would last the winter. The bad feeling he’d experienced when they first discussed the idea had returned tenfold.

“You talk to that Seattle paper yet?” Ben asked, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.

“No.” Sawyer frowned. The press was becoming a problem. It wasn’t surprising that the media had gotten hold of the situation and wanted to do stories on it. They’d been hounding Sawyer for interviews all week—thanks to Christian, who’d given out his name. He was damn near ready to throttle his younger brother. And he was sorely tempted to have the phone disconnected; if it wasn’t vital for business, he swore he would’ve done it already.

Now that the first woman was actually arriving, Sawyer regretted not discussing The Plan with their oldest brother. Although Charles was a full partner in the flight service, he was employed as a surveyor for Alaska Oil and was often away from Hard Luck for weeks on end. Like right now.

When he did get home, Charles would probably think they’d all lost their minds. Sawyer wouldn’t blame him, either.

“Well, the cabin’s ready, anyway,” Duke said with satisfaction.

After they’d scrubbed down the walls and floors, Sawyer and a few of the men had opened up the storeroom in the lodge and dug out some of the old furniture. Sawyer had expressed doubts about sleeping on mattresses that had been tucked away for so many years, but Pearl and various other women—including several who were wives of pipeline maintenance workers—had aired everything out. They’d assured him that aside from some lingering mustiness, there was nothing to worry about. Everything had been well wrapped in plastic.

As much as Sawyer hated to admit it, the cabin looked almost inviting. The black potbellied stove gleamed from repeated scrubbing. The women had sewn floral curtains for the one window and a matching tablecloth for the rough wooden table. The townspeople had stacked the shelves with groceries, and someone had even donated a cooler to keep perishables fresh for a few days. The single bed, made up with sun-dried linens and one thin blanket, did resemble something one might find in a prison, but Sawyer didn’t say so. Pearl and her friends had worked hard to make the cabin as welcoming as possible.

When he’d stopped there on his way to Ben’s for breakfast, he saw that someone had placed a Mason jar of freshly cut wildflowers on the table. Right beside the kerosene lantern and the can opener.

Well, this was as good as it got.

“How are you going to know it’s her when she steps off the plane?” Ben asked, standing directly in front of him and watching him eat.

“I’m wearing my Midnight Sons jacket,” Sawyer answered. “I’ll let her figure it out.”

“What’s her name again?”

“Abbey Sutherland.”

“I bet she’s pretty,” Duke muttered.

His pilots gazed sightlessly into the distance, longing written on their faces. Sawyer wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.

“I’m getting out of here before you three make me lose my breakfast.”

“You sure you don’t want me to ride along with you?” John asked hopefully.

“I’m sure.” Sawyer would also be bringing back the mail and a large order of canned goods for the grocery. He was flying the Baron, and he sincerely hoped Abbey Sutherland had packed light. He didn’t have room for more than two suitcases, and he intended to store those in the nose.

Grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, Sawyer headed out the door and across Hard Luck’s main street toward the runway.

He could’ve flown into Fairbanks with his eyes closed, he’d made the flight so often. He landed, took care of loading up the mail and other freight, then—with a sense of dread—made his way to the terminal.

After checking the monitor to make sure the flight was coming in on time, Sawyer bought a coffee and ventured out to the assigned gate.

He was surprised by how busy the terminal was. Tourists, he guessed. Not that he was complaining. They brought a lot of money into the state. Not as much as oil did, of course, but they certainly represented a healthy part of the economy.

Even the airport was geared toward impressing tourists, he noted. The first thing many saw when they walked in was a massive mounted polar bear, rearing up on its hind legs. Although he’d seen it a hundred times, Sawyer still felt awed by it.

The plane arrived on schedule. Sipping coffee, Sawyer waited for the passengers to enter the terminal.

He glanced at each one, not knowing what to expect. Christian’s description of Abbey Sutherland sure left something to be desired. From what he remembered, Christian had said she was “regular” pretty.

Every woman he saw seemed to match that description, such as it was. With the exception of one.

She was probably in her early thirties. She had two kids at her side. The little girl, who couldn’t have been more than six or seven, clutched a stuffed bear. The boy, perhaps two or three years older, looked as if he needed a leash to hold him back. The kid was raring to go.

The woman wasn’t pretty, Sawyer decided, she was downright lovely. Her glossy brown hair was short and straight and fell to just below her ears. Her eyes skirted past him. He liked their warm brown color and he liked her calm manner.

He also liked the way she protectively drew her children close as she looked around. She too, it seemed, was seeking someone.

With a determined effort, Sawyer pulled his gaze away from her and scanned the crowd for Christian’s librarian.

Brown hair and cute upturned nose.

He found himself looking back at the woman with the two children. Their eyes met, and her generous mouth formed a smile. It wasn’t a shy smile or a coy one. It was open and friendly, as if she recognized him and expected him to recognize her.

Then she walked right over to him. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello.” Fearing he’d miss the woman he’d come to meet, his eyes slid past her to the people still disembarking from the plane.

“I’m Abbey Sutherland.”

Sawyer’s gaze shot back to her before dropping to the two kids.

“These are my children, Scott and Susan,” she said. “Thank you for meeting us.”

Three

“Your children?” Sawyer repeated.

“Yes,” Abbey said. It was easy to see the family resemblance between Sawyer and Christian O’Halloran, she thought. Both were tall and lean and rawboned. If he’d lived a hundred years earlier, he could’ve been on horseback, riding across some now-forgotten range in the Old West. Instead, he was flying over a large expanse of wilderness, from one fringe of civilization to another.

Whereas Christian had been clean-shaven, Sawyer had a beard. The dark hair suited his face. His eyes were a pale shade of gray-blue, not unlike those of a husky, Scott’s favorite dog. He wore a red-checked flannel shirt under a jacket marked with the Midnight Sons logo. She suspected he had no idea how attractive he was.

“Hi,” Scott said eagerly, looking up at Sawyer.

The pilot held out his hand and she noticed that his eyes softened as he exchanged handshakes with her son. “Pleased to meet you, Scott.”

“Alaska sure is big.”

“That it is. Hello, Susan,” Sawyer said next, holding out his hand to her daughter. The girl solemnly shook it, then glanced at Abbey and smiled, clearly delighted with this gesture of grown-up respect.

“Could we speak privately, Ms. Sutherland?” Sawyer asked. The warmth and welcome vanished from his eyes as he motioned toward the waiting area. He walked just far enough away so the children couldn’t hear him. Abbey followed, keeping a close eye on Scott and Susan.

“Christian didn’t mention that you have children,” Sawyer said without preamble.

“He didn’t ask. And there was no reference to family on the application or the agreement Christian sent me. I did think it was a bit odd not to inquire about my circumstances, considering that you’re providing housing.”

“You might’ve said something.” An accusatory look tightened his mouth.

“I didn’t get a chance,” she explained in even tones. His attitude was beginning to irritate her. “I did try, but he was busy, and I really didn’t think it would matter.”

“There’s nothing in the agreement about children.”

“I’m aware of that,” Abbey said, striving to keep the emotion out of her voice. “As I already told you, I filled out the application and answered every question, and there wasn’t a single one about dependants. Frankly, I don’t think they’re anyone’s concern but mine. I was hired as a librarian. And as long as I do my job, I—”

“That’s right, but—”

“I really can’t see that it matters whether or not I have a family to support.”

“What about your husband?”

“I’m divorced. Listen, would you mind if we discussed this another time? The children and I are exhausted. We landed in Anchorage late last night and were up early this morning to catch the connecting flight to Fairbanks. Would it be too much to ask that we wait for a more opportune moment to sort this out?”

He hesitated, then said in crisp tones, “No problem.”

The pulse in his temple throbbed visibly, and Abbey suspected that it was, in fact, very much of a problem.

“I brought the Baron,” he said, directing the three of them toward the luggage carousel. “All I can say is I hope you packed light.”

Abbey wasn’t sure how she was supposed to interpret “packed light.” Everything she and the children owned that would fit was crammed into their suitcases. Everything that hadn’t gone into their luggage had been sold, given away or handed over to a shipping company and would arrive within the month. She hoped.

“Look, Mom,” Scott said, pointing at the wall where a variety of stuffed animals were displayed. Abbey shuddered, but her son’s eyes remained fixed on the head of a huge brown bear. Its teeth were bared threateningly.

“That silly bear stuck his head right through the wall,” Sawyer joked.

Scott laughed, but Susan stared hard as if that just might be possible.

When they’d collected all the luggage, Sawyer stepped back, frowning. “You brought six suitcases.”

“Yes, I know,” Abbey said calmly. “We needed six suitcases.”

“I don’t have room for all those in the plane. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get you, two kids, the mail and the rest of the cargo inside, much less enough luggage to sink a battleship. If you’d let me know, I could’ve brought a larger plane.”

Abbey bit back a sarcastic reply. She’d tried to tell Christian about her children, but he’d been too interested in his dinner date to listen to her. She hadn’t purposely hidden anything from him or Sawyer. And, good grief, how was she supposed to know how much luggage some airplane would hold?

“Never mind,” Sawyer grumbled impatiently, “I’ll figure it out later. Let’s get going.”

Abbey would’ve liked something to eat, but it was clear Sawyer was anxious to be on his way. Fortunately Scott and Susan, unlike their mother, had gobbled down what the airline laughably called a meal.

They loaded everything into the bed of a pickup and drove around the airport to a back road, which took them to an area used by various flight service operators.

“All that stuff belongs to Mom and Susan,” Scott whispered conspiratorially as Sawyer helped him out of the cab. “They’re the ones who insisted on bringing everything.”

“Sounds just like a couple of women,” Sawyer muttered. He led them to the plane.

Abbey wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this compact dual-engine aircraft wasn’t it. She peeked inside and realized that what Sawyer had said was true. There was barely room for her, let alone the children and all their luggage.

“There’s only three seats,” she said, looking nervously at Sawyer. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to figure out that three seats wasn’t enough for four people.

“You’ll have to sit on my desk—the seat beside mine,” Sawyer instructed after climbing aboard the aircraft. “And I’ll buckle the kids together on the other seat.”

“Is that legal?”

“Probably not in the lower forty-eight,” he told her, “but we do it here. Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” He moved toward the cockpit, retrieved a black binder and a stack of papers from the passenger seat and crammed them into the space between the two seats.

“Go on in and sit down,” he said, “while I see to the kids.”

Abbey climbed awkwardly inside and carefully edged her way forward. By the time she fastened the seat belt, she was breathless.

Sawyer settled Scott and Susan in the remaining seat behind her. One look at her children told Abbey neither was pleased with the arrangement. But it couldn’t be avoided.

“What about our luggage?” she asked when Sawyer slipped into the seat next to her.

He placed earphones over his head, then reached for the binder and made a notation in it.

“Our luggage?” she repeated.

“The suitcases don’t fit. We’re going to have to leave them behind.”

“What?” Abbey cried. “We can’t do that!”

Sawyer ignored her and continued to ready the plane for takeoff.

“How long is the flight?” Scott asked.

“About an hour.”

“Can I fly the plane?”

“Not this time,” Sawyer responded absently.

“Later can I?”

“We’ll see.”

“Mr. O’Halloran,” Abbey said with a heavy sigh, “could we please discuss the luggage situation?”

“No. My contract is to deliver the mail. That’s far more important. I’m not going to unload cargo for a bunch of silly female things you aren’t going to need, anyway.”

Abbey gritted her teeth. “I didn’t bring silly female things. Now if you’d kindly—”

Sawyer turned around and looked at Scott. “Do you like dogs?”

Scott’s eyes grew huge. “You bet I do,” he answered breathlessly.

Sawyer adjusted some switches. “When we get to Hard Luck, I’ll take you over to meet Eagle Catcher.”

“Is he a husky?”

“Yup.”

“Really?” Scott sounded as if he’d died and gone to heaven. He was so excited it was a wonder he didn’t bounce right out of the seat.

“Um, about our luggage?” Abbey hated to be a pest, but she didn’t like being ignored, either. It might be unimportant to Buck Rogers here, but she’d rather they arrived in Hard Luck with something more than the clothes on their backs.

He didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he started the engines and chatted in friendly tones with a man in the control tower. Come to think of it, he chatted in friendly tones with everyone but her.

Before Abbey could protest further, they were taxiing toward the runway.

In no time they were in the air. Above the roar of the twin engines, Abbey could hear nothing except the pounding of her heart. She’d never flown in a plane this small, and she closed her eyes and held on tightly as it pitched and heaved its way into the clear blue sky.

“Wow!” Scott shouted. “This is fun.”

Abbey didn’t share his reaction. Her stomach did a flip-flop as the plane banked sharply to one side. She braced her hands against the seat, muttering, “Come on! Straighten up and fly right, can’t you?”

Still talking to the tower, Sawyer glanced at her and grinned. “Relax,” he said. “I haven’t been forced to crash-land in two or three months now.”

“In other words, I haven’t got a thing to worry about.” Abbey shouted to be heard above the engines. She peeked over her shoulder to be sure Scott and Susan weren’t frightened. They weren’t—quite the opposite. They smiled at her, thrilled with their first small-plane ride. She, on the other hand, preferred airplanes that came equipped with flight attendants.

Abbey wasn’t able to make out much of the landscape below. She’d been disappointed earlier; during the flight from Anchorage to Fairbanks, Mount McKinley had been obscured by clouds. The pilot had announced that the highest mountain in North America was visible less than twenty percent of the time. He’d joked that perhaps it wasn’t really there at all.

She glanced away from the window and back at Sawyer. He’d already demonstrated a fairly flexible attitude to safety rules, in her view. Now he took out the black binder he’d wedged between their seats and began to write. Abbey stared at him. Not once did his eyes shift from his task, whatever it was.

A light blinked repeatedly on the dashboard. Abbey knew nothing about small planes, but she figured if a light was blinking, there had to be a reason. They must be losing oil or gas or altitude or something.

When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she gripped his arm and pointed to the light.

“Yes?” He looked at her blankly.

She didn’t want to shout for fear of alarming her children, so she leaned her head as close to his as possible and said in a reasonable voice, “There’s a light flashing.”

“Yes, I see.” He continued writing.

“Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“In a couple of minutes.”

“I’d rather you took care of it now.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Ms. Sutherland—Abbey,” he said. Lines crinkled around his eyes, and he almost seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “All it indicates is that I’m on automatic pilot.”

She felt like a fool. Crossing her arms, she wrapped what remained of her dignity about her and gazed out the window.

Sawyer tapped her on the shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about your luggage, either. I’ve arranged with another flight service to have it delivered this afternoon.”

He might have told her sooner, instead of leaving her to worry. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

“What’s that?” Scott shouted from behind her.

Abbey looked down to discover a streak of silver that stretched as far as the eye could see.

“That’s the Alaska pipeline,” Sawyer told Scott.

From the research she’d done on Alaska, Abbey knew that the pipeline traversed eight hundred miles of rugged mountain ranges, rivers and harsh terrain. It ran from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez, the northernmost ice-free port in North America.

Soon Abbey noticed that the plane was descending. She studied the landscape, trying to spot Hard Luck, excited about seeing the community that would be her home. She saw a row of buildings along one unpaved street, with a large structure set off to the side. Several other buildings were scattered about. She tried to count the houses and got to twenty before the plane lined up with the runway for its final descent.

As they drew close, Abbey realized the field wasn’t paved, either. They were landing on what resembled a wide gravel road. She held her breath and braced herself as the wheels touched down, sure they’d hit hard against the rough ground. To her surprise, the landing was as smooth as any she’d experienced.

Sawyer cut the engine speed and taxied toward a mobile structure near the far end of the field. Abbey strained to see what she could out of the narrow side window. She smiled when she recognized a telephone booth. In the middle of the Arctic, at the very top of the world, it was comforting to know she could call home.

A burly man who resembled a lumberjack barreled out of the mobile structure. Abbey lost sight of him, then heard the door on the side of the aircraft open.

“Howdy,” he called, sticking his head and upper shoulders inside. “Welcome to Hard Luck. I’m John Henderson.”

“Hello,” Abbey called back.

John disappeared abruptly to be replaced by the head and shoulders of another outdoorsy-looking man. “I’m Ralph Ferris,” he said. Three other faces crowded in around the opening.

“For crying out loud,” Sawyer snapped, “would you guys let the passengers out of the plane first? This is ridiculous.” He squeezed past her, unsnapped the seat belt secured around Scott and Susan and helped them out.

Abbey was the last person to disembark. As she moved down the three steps, she found all five men standing at attention, as if prepared for a military inspection. Their arms hung straight at their sides, their shoulders were squared, spines straight. If any of them were surprised to see two children, it didn’t show.

Muttering to himself, Sawyer stalked past Abbey and into the mobile office, leaving her alone with her children. He slammed the door, apparently eager to be rid of them.

Abbey felt irritation swirl through her. How could he just abandon her? How could he be so rude? What had she done that was so terrible? Well, she could be rude, too!

“Welcome to Hard Luck.” Her angry thoughts were swept aside as a tall, thin older woman with gray hair cut boyishly short stepped forward to greet her. “I’m Pearl Inman,” she said, shaking Abbey’s hand enthusiastically. “I can’t tell you how pleased we are to have a librarian in Hard Luck.”

“Thank you. These are my children, Scott and Susan. We’re happy to be here.” Abbey noted that Pearl seemed as unsurprised by the arrival of two children as the pilots were.

“You must be exhausted.”

“We’re fine,” Abbey said politely, which was true; she felt a resurgence of energy.

“You got any other kids in this town?” Scott asked.

“Are there any girls my age?” Susan added.

“My heavens, yes. We had twenty-five students last year. I’ll have one of the boys introduce you around later, Scott.” She turned her attention to Susan. “How old are you?”

“Seven.”

Pearl’s smile deepened. “I believe Chrissie Harris is seven. Her father works for the Parks Department and serves as our PSO on the side. PSO stands for public safety officer—sort of our policeman. Chrissie will be mighty glad to have a new friend.”

“What about me?” Scott asked. “I’m nine.”

“Ronny Gold’s about that age. You’ll meet him later. He’s got a bike and likes to ride all over town on it, so there’s no missing him.”

Scott seemed appeased. “Are there any Indians around here?” he asked next.

“A few live in the area—Athabascans. You’ll meet them sometime,” Pearl assured him.

Looking around, Abbey felt a large mosquito land on her arm. She swatted it away. Susan had already received one bite and was swatting at another mosquito.

“I see you’ve been introduced to the Alaska state bird, the mosquito,” Pearl said, then chuckled. “They’re pretty thick around here in June and July. A little bug spray works wonders.”

“I’ll get some later,” Abbey said. She hadn’t realized mosquitoes were such a problem in Alaska.

“Come on—let’s go to the restaurant and I’ll introduce you to Ben and the others,” Pearl said, urging them across the road toward a building that resembled a house with a big porch. A huge pair of moose antlers adorned the front. “This is the Hard Luck Café. Ben Hamilton’s the owner, and he’s been cooking up a storm all day. I sure hope you’re hungry.”

Abbey grinned broadly. “I could eat a moose.”

“Good,” Pearl said, grinning back. “I do believe it’s on the menu.”

* * *

Children.

Sawyer had no one to blame but himself for not knowing that Abbey came as a package deal. He was the person who’d so carefully drawn up the application. Obviously he’d forgotten to include one small but vital question. He’d left one little loophole. If Abbey had arrived with kids, would other women bring them, too? It was a question he didn’t even want to consider.

Children.

He poured himself a mug of coffee from the office pot and took a swallow. It burned his mouth and throat, but he was too preoccupied to care. He had to figure out what they were going to do about Abbey Sutherland and her kids.

It wasn’t that he objected to Scott and Susan. Abbey was right; her children had nothing to do with her ability to hold down the job of librarian. But they were complications the town hadn’t foreseen.

First, the three of them couldn’t live in that cabin. The entire space was no bigger than a large bedroom. Those cabins had never been intended as permanent living quarters, anyway. Sawyer remembered that initially he’d tried to reason with Christian and the others, but no one would listen, and he’d ended up taking the path of least resistance. He’d even helped clean the cabins!

In fact, he had to admit he’d become caught up with the idea himself. It had seemed like a simple solution to a complex problem. You’d think a group of men, all of whom were over thirty, would have the brains to know better.

Sawyer could only imagine what his older brother would say when he found out what they’d done. Charles would be spitting nails.

Sawyer passed his hand over his eyes and sighed deeply. He didn’t understand what would bring a woman like Abbey Sutherland to Hard Luck in the first place. She wouldn’t last, and he’d known it the moment he laid eyes on her.

It occurred to him that she might be running away. From her ex-husband? Perhaps she’d gotten involved in an abusive relationship. His hands formed tight fists at the thought of her husband mistreating her—at the thought of any man mistreating any woman.

Sawyer had seen for himself the dull pain in her eyes when she said she was divorced. He just wasn’t sure why it was there. Understanding women wasn’t his forte, and he felt himself at a real disadvantage. He lacked the experience, but he liked to think he was generally a good judge of character.

Then again, maybe he wasn’t. There’d been only one serious relationship in his life, and that hadn’t lasted long. Just when he was feeling comfortable with the way things were going, Loreen had started hinting at marriage. Soon those hints had become ultimatums. He’d liked Loreen just fine, but he wasn’t anywhere close to marriage. Once he’d told her that, she left him.

Sawyer assumed that was how a lot of women felt. They wanted a ring to make everything official and complete. Well, he’d seen what could happen when a couple fell out of love. His parents were the perfect example of the kind of relationship he didn’t want. They’d been chained to faded dreams and unhappy memories. So Sawyer had let Loreen go, and try as he might he hadn’t once regretted his decision.

Sawyer didn’t know how he was going to handle the problem of Abbey and her family. What he should do was put her and those two kids of hers on the afternoon flight out of Hard Luck.

But he wouldn’t. Because if he even suggested it, twenty men would happily lynch him from the nearest tree. Of course, they’d have to go more than two hundred miles to find a tree tall enough for the job....

After he finished his coffee, Sawyer headed over to the café. It seemed half the town was there, eager to meet Abbey. There was no place to sit, so he stood, arms folded and one foot braced against the wall, hoping to give the impression that he was relaxed and at ease.

Ben, he noted, was pleased as a pig in...mud to be doing such a brisk business. The cook wove his way between the mismatched tables, refilling coffee cups and making animated conversation.

He lifted the glass pot toward Sawyer with a questioning look.

Sawyer shook his head. He sure didn’t need another coffee. In fact, he shouldn’t have had the last one.

He saw that Abbey was surrounded by four of his pilots. They circled the table where she sat with Pearl and her children, like buzzards closing in on a fresh kill. You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.

His crew was a mangy-looking bunch, Sawyer mused, with the exception of Duke, who was broad-shouldered and firm-muscled. One thing he could say about all of them was that they were excellent pilots. Lazy SOBs when the mood struck them, though. He didn’t know anyone who could love flying as much as a bush pilot and still come up with the world’s most inventive excuses to avoid duty.

Everyone plied Abbey with questions. Sawyer half expected all this attention to fluster her, but she handled their inquisition with graceful ease. He was astonished by how quickly she’d picked up on names and matched them to faces.

Ben sauntered over to his side. His gaze followed Sawyer’s. “Pretty, isn’t she?” Ben said. “I wouldn’t mind marrying her myself.”

“You’re joking.” Sawyer’s eyes narrowed as he studied his longtime friend.

Ben’s heavy shoulders shook with silent laughter. “So that’s the way it is.”

“Which way is that?” Sawyer challenged.

“She’s already got you hooked. In no time, you’ll be just like all the others, fighting for the pleasure of her company.”

Sawyer snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous! I just hope we don’t have any more women arriving with families in tow.”

Ben’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t know about the kids?”

“Nope. Christian didn’t, either, from what she said. Ms. Sutherland claims she didn’t get a chance to tell him.”

“Well, no one’ll have a problem with a couple more kids in Hard Luck,” Ben commented.

“That’s not the point.”

Ben frowned. “Then what is?”

“The cabins. Abbey can’t live in one of those cabins with her children.”

Ben leaned against the wall with Sawyer. “Yeah, you’re right. So, what are you going to do?”

“No idea.” Sawyer shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “It isn’t like there’s a house available for us to rent.”

“Catherine Fletcher’s place is vacant.”

Sawyer shook his head. He wouldn’t even consider approaching Catherine’s family, and he doubted his brothers would be willing to do so either, regardless of the circumstances.

The bad blood between the two families ran deep. It would take a lot more than needing an empty house to wipe out forty years of ill will.

Catherine Harmon Fletcher was in poor health now, and in a nursing home in Anchorage, close to her daughter.

Ellen, Sawyer’s mother, had suffered so much unhappiness because of Catherine. But she no longer lived in Hard Luck either. She’d remarried and had relocated to British Columbia, as happy as Sawyer had ever known her. He didn’t begrudge his mother her new life. He figured she deserved it after all the miserable years she’d endured.

“What about Pearl’s? She’s going to be moving in with her daughter,” Ben reminded him.

Sawyer hated to see the older woman go, but she’d told him it was time for her to move on, especially now that her friends had mostly left.

“Pearl’s not leaving until we hire a replacement and she’s had the opportunity to train her,” Sawyer said.

Ben mulled over the problem for several minutes. “What about the lodge?” he asked. “I know it’s been years since anyone’s stayed there, but—”

“The lodge?” Sawyer repeated. “You’re joking!”

“It’d take a little work....”

“A little work!” Sawyer knew he was beginning to sound like a parrot, repeating everything the other man said, but the idea was ludicrous. The lodge was in terrible shape. It would take months of hard work and thousands of dollars to make it livable. If it hadn’t been so much trouble, they would have refurbished it, instead of dealing with the cabins. But those, at least, were in one piece.

A fire had burned part of the lodge the year their father died, and not one of the three brothers had ever had the heart to get it repaired.

Their mother had always hated the lodge, which had become a symbol of everything that was wrong with her marriage, and she’d used the fire as an excuse to close it completely. If it’d been up to him, Sawyer would’ve torn the place down years ago. As it was now, the largest building in town stood vacant, a constant reminder of the father he’d loved and lost.

Ben wiped his forehead. “Yeah. The lodge wouldn’t work. It’s a shame, really.”

Sawyer wasn’t sure if Ben was talking about the abandoned lodge or Abbey’s situation.

There was no easy solution. “I don’t know what we’re going to do,” he muttered.

Ben was silent for quite some time, which was unusual for him. He studied Abbey and the children, then turned to Sawyer. “I guess you could send her back.” His voice was carefully casual.

“I know.”

“Is that what you plan to do?”

Sawyer felt a twinge of regret. “I can’t see that we have any choice, do you?”

“It’s a simple misunderstanding,” Ben said. “No one’s to blame. She should’ve told Christian about the kids.”

The twinge had become an ache, and it didn’t want to go away. “Maybe Christian should’ve asked.” But it didn’t matter; she was here now, there was no place for her to live and he had to deal with it.

Better Abbey should return to Seattle immediately, Sawyer reasoned, before he found himself making excuses for her to stay.

Four

Sawyer knew he wouldn’t be winning any popularity contests around Hard Luck if he announced that Abbey Sutherland and her children had to leave. The best way to handle the situation, he decided after giving it serious thought, was for Abbey to back out of the contract on her own—with a little help from him.

He waited until everyone had finished eating before he worked his way over to the table where she sat with Pearl. “I’ll show you to your cabin now,” he offered.

She looked up at him uncertainly, as if she wasn’t quite sure of his motives. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Sawyer,” Pearl said, placing her hand on his forearm.

Sawyer already knew what the older woman was about to say. Like him, Pearl must have realized immediately that Abbey and her children couldn’t live in a dilapidated old cabin outside town.

“When can I meet your dog?” Scott asked eagerly.

“Soon,” Sawyer promised. Eagle Catcher didn’t take easily to strangers; the husky wouldn’t allow the boy to come near him until after two or three visits. Sawyer decided he’d bring Scott over to the house that evening and show him Eagle Catcher’s pen. But the kid would be long gone before the husky accepted him as a friend.

“I’d like to see the library, too, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Abbey said.

“Of course,” Sawyer said in a friendly voice, but a shiver of guilt passed through him. When he’d last spoken to his mother, he’d told her they’d hired a librarian. Ellen had been excited to learn that her gift to the town was finally going to be put to use.

Sawyer squeezed the four of them into the cab of his pickup and drove down the main road. There were a couple of short side streets, but none that anyone had bothered to name.

“What’s that?” Susan asked, pointing to a small wooden structure that stood outside the mercantile. She giggled. “It looks like a little house on stilts.”

“It’s called a cache. We use it to store food and keep it safe from bears and other marauding animals.”

“Alaska’s got lots of bears,” Scott murmured as if he was well versed in the subject. “I read about them in the books Mom brought home from the library.”

“How come the cache has legs that look like they’re wearing silver stockings?” The question came from Susan again.

“That’s tin,” Sawyer explained, “and it’s slippery. Discourages those who like to climb.”

“I wouldn’t try and climb it,” Scott said.

“I don’t think he’s referring to boys,” Abbey told her son. “He was talking about the animals.”

“Oh.”

“Is it still in use?” Abbey asked.

“Yes, it is. I don’t know what Pete keeps in there during the summer months, but it’s a crude kind of freezer in winter.”

“I see.”

“Oh, this is Main Street,” Sawyer said as they continued down the dirt road. Dust scattered in every direction, creating a dense cloud in their wake.

“I wondered if there’d be any leftover snow,” Abbey said. She seemed to be trying to make polite conversation.

“It hasn’t been gone all that long.” Sawyer knew he should use the opportunity to tell her how harsh the winters were and how bleak life was during December, January and February, but he was afraid Abbey would see straight through him. He preferred to be a bit more subtle in his attempt to convince her to go home.

“Is that the school?” Scott asked, pointing to the left.

“Yup.”

“It sure is small.”

“Yup. We’ve got two teachers. One for grades one through eight and another for high school. We had more than twenty students last year.”

“Ben told me you’ve got a new elementary teacher coming soon,” Abbey said.

“That’s right.” The state provided living quarters for the teacher. The house was one of the best in town, with all the modern conveniences. It was a palace compared to the cabin that would be Abbey’s.

They drove past the lodge with its ugly black scars. Susan pressed her face to the window, and Sawyer waited for another barrage of questions, but none was forthcoming.

“Is the cabin close by?” Abbey asked. They’d already passed the outskirts of Hard Luck.

“Not much farther.”

She glanced over her shoulder, as if gauging the distance between the town and her new home.

Sawyer parked in front of the cluster of small cabins and pointed to the one that had been readied for her. Seeing it now, battered by time and the elements, Sawyer experienced a definite feeling of guilt. The idea of luring women north with the promise of housing and land had been a bad idea from the first.

“These are the cabins your brother mentioned?” Abbey kept her voice low, but her shock was all too evident.

“Yes.” This was the moment Sawyer had dreaded.

“We’re supposed to live here?” Scott asked in the same incredulous tone.

“I’m afraid so.”

Susan opened the truck door and climbed out. The seven-year-old planted her hands on her hips and exhaled loudly. “It’s a dump.”

Sawyer said nothing. Frankly, he agreed with the kid.

“It looks like one of those places where you freeze meat in the winter, only it isn’t on stilts,” Scott muttered.

Without a word Abbey walked into the cabin. Sawyer didn’t follow; he knew what she was going to see. A single bed, a crude table and solitary chair, along with a woodstove. A small store of food supplies, stacked in a primitive cupboard.

“Mom,” Scott wailed, “we can’t live here!”

“It is a bit smaller than we expected,” Abbey said. Her shoulders seemed to droop with the weight of her disappointment.

Hands still on her hips, Susan stood there, feet wide apart, as she surveyed the cabin. She shook her head. “This place is a dump,” she repeated.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Scott asked, giving the one-room interior a second look.

“There’s an outhouse in the back,” Sawyer told him. “Just take the path.”

“What’s an outhouse?” Susan asked her mother.

Abbey closed her eyes briefly. “Follow Scott and you’ll find out for yourself.”

The two disappeared, and Abbey turned to Sawyer. He thought she’d yell at him, call him and his brother jerks for misleading her. Instead, she asked, “What about the twenty acres?”

“It’s, uh, several miles to the east of here,” he explained reluctantly. “I have the plot map in the office and I’ll show you later if you want.”

“You mean to say the cabin doesn’t sit on the twenty acres?”

“No,” he answered, swallowing hard. When they’d initially discussed the details of this arrangement, it had all seemed equitable. Sort of. After all, Midnight Sons was picking up the women’s airfare and related expenses. But at the defeated, angry look in Abbey’s eyes, Sawyer felt like a jerk. Worse than a jerk. He wished she’d just yell at him.

“I see,” she said after a long silence. Her voice was so low Sawyer had to strain to hear.

He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from taking her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her. Was she actually thinking of staying? Christian and the others were so starved for female companionship, they’d have promised the moon to induce women to move to Hard Luck. He didn’t excuse himself; he’d played a major role in this deception, too.

“I found the outhouse,” Susan said, holding her nose as she returned to her mother’s side. “It stinks.”

“What are we gonna do?” Scott asked, sounding desperate.

“Well,” Abbey said thoughtfully, “we’ll have to move a pair of bunk beds in here and add a couple of chairs.”

“But, Mom...”

Sawyer glanced inside the cabin and groaned inwardly.

“We’ll make it a game,” Abbey told her children with forced enthusiasm. “Like pioneers.”

“I don’t wanna play,” Susan whined.

“Maybe there’s someplace else we can rent,” Scott said, looking hopefully at Sawyer.

“There isn’t.” He hated to disappoint the boy, but he couldn’t make houses that didn’t exist appear out of the blue. He turned to Abbey, who continued to stare impassively in the direction of the cabin. He suspected she was struggling to compose herself.

“Could you show me the library now?” she finally asked. Apparently she wanted to see the whole picture before she decided. Fair enough. Sawyer hoped that once she’d had time to analyze the situation, she’d make a reasonable decision. The only reasonable decision.

They all piled back into the truck. On the drive out to the cabin all three Sutherlands had been filled with anticipation. The drive back was silent, their unhappiness almost palpable.

The urge to suggest that Abbey give up and leave was almost more than Sawyer could suppress. But he’d be tipping his hand if he so much as hinted she fly home. He’d say something eventually if need be, but he’d rather she reached that conclusion herself.

The log building designated for the library had once belonged to Sawyer’s grandfather. Adam O’Halloran had settled in the area in the early 1930s. He’d come seeking gold, but instead of finding his fortune, he’d founded a community.

Since the day they’d heard that Christian had hired a librarian, Sawyer and the other pilots had hauled over a hundred or more boxes of books from Ellen’s house, which was now Christian’s.

The original O’Halloran home consisted of three large rooms. Abbey walked inside, and once more her disappointment was evident. “I’ll need bookshelves,” she said stiffly. “You can’t store books in boxes.”

“There are several in Mother’s house. I’ll see that they’re delivered first thing tomorrow morning.”

Her gaze shot to his. “Is your mother’s house vacant?”

Sawyer knew what she was thinking. He shook his head. “Mom’s remarried and out of the state, but Christian lives there now. Although he’s away at the moment, as you know.”

“I see.”

A young boy who introduced himself as Ronny Gold walked his bicycle up to the door and peeked inside. Scott and Ronny stared at each other.

“Can you play?” Ronny asked.

“Mom, can I go outside?”

Abbey nodded. “Don’t be gone long.” She glanced at her watch. “Meet me back here in half an hour, okay?”

“Okay.” Both Scott and Susan disappeared with Ronny.

Hands buried deep in his pants pockets, Sawyer watched as Abbey lifted a book, studied the spine, then picked up another. She handled each one with gentle reverence.

Sawyer waited until he couldn’t bear it any longer. He’d planned to give her more time to realize she couldn’t possibly live under these conditions. But if she wasn’t going to admit it herself...

“It isn’t going to work, Abbey,” he said quietly. “It was a rotten idea, bringing women to Hard Luck. I blame myself. I should never have agreed to this.”

“You want me to leave, don’t you?” she asked in an ominously even voice, ignoring his comment.

Sawyer didn’t answer. He couldn’t, because he refused to lie or mislead her any further. What surprised him most was his own realization—that he’d have liked the opportunity to know her better. Instead, he was forced to send her back to Seattle, where she and her children belonged.

He steeled himself. He and Christian weren’t the only ones at fault.

“You misled my brother,” he said gruffly and couldn’t decide who he was angriest with. Christian? Abbey? Himself?

“I misled Christian?” Abbey cried, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I find that insulting.”

The anger that had simmered just below the surface flared to life. “You duped him into hiring you without once mentioning that you had children!” Sawyer snapped. “I know there was nothing on the application about a family.” That was one problem he was going to correct at the first opportunity. “But you should’ve been more honest, since you were aware that we offered housing as part of the employment package.”

“I should’ve been more honest? That’s the height of hypocrisy! I was told I’d be given living quarters and twenty acres of land, but you neglected to tell me the cabin’s the size of a doghouse.” She dragged in a deep breath. “How dare you suggest I broke the agreement? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You broke the spirit of our agreement.”

“Oh, please! As for your free land, that’s a big joke, too. You forgot to mention that it’s so far from town I’d need a dogsled to reach it. If you want to talk about someone breaking the agreement, then let’s discuss what you and your brother have done to me and my children.”

At the pain in her eyes, he felt worse than ever. He had no defense, and he knew it. “All right. We made a mistake, but I’m willing to pay your airfare home. It’s the least we can do.”

“I’m staying,” she said flatly. “I signed a contract, and I intend to hold up my end of the bargain, despite...despite everything.”

Sawyer couldn’t believe his ears. “You can’t!”

Her eyes flashed. “Why can’t I?”

“You saw the cabin yourself. There’s no way the three of you could possibly live there, bunk beds or not. You might be able to manage this summer, but it’d be out of the question once winter sets in.”

“The children and I are staying.” She said this with such determination Sawyer could readily see that nothing he said or did would change her mind.

“Fine,” he said brusquely. “If that’s your decision.” At best, he figured she’d last the night. By morning she’d be at the airfield with her luggage, anxious to catch the first plane out of Hard Luck.

* * *

An hour later Abbey sat on the edge of the thin mattress and tried to think. She hadn’t felt so close to tears since the day she’d filed for divorce. In some ways, the situation felt very similar to the end of her marriage. She was being forced to admit she’d made a mistake. Another in what seemed to be a very long list.

It hadn’t felt like a mistake when she’d accepted the job. It had felt decidedly right.

The problem was that she didn’t want to leave Hard Luck. She’d painted a fairy-tale picture of the town in her mind, and when it fell short of her expectations she’d floundered in disappointment. Well, she’d been disappointed before and learned from the experience. She would again.

No matter how eager Sawyer O’Halloran was to be rid of her, she was staying.

Really, she had no one to blame but herself. Her father had told her the free cabin and twenty acres sounded too good to be true. She was willing to concede that he was right. But it wasn’t just the promise of a home and land that had drawn her north.

She’d come seeking a slower pace of life, hoping to settle in a community of which she’d be a vital part. A community where she’d know and trust her neighbors. And, of course, the opportunity to set up and manage a library was a dream come true. She’d moved to Hard Luck because she realized being here would make a difference. To herself, to the town, to her children most of all. She’d come so Scott and Susan would only read about drive-by shootings, gang violence and drug problems.

Although her children’s reactions to the cabin had been very much like her own, Abbey was proud of how quickly the two had rebounded.

“It isn’t so bad here,” Scott had told her when he’d returned to the O’Halloran homestead with Ronny Gold. Susan had met Chrissie Harris and they’d quickly become fast friends.

The sound of an approaching truck propelled her off the bed in a near panic. She wasn’t ready for another round with Sawyer O’Halloran!

Sawyer leapt out of the cab as if he wanted to spend as little time as possible in her company. “Your luggage arrived.” Two suitcases were on the ground before she reached the truck bed. Pride demanded that she get the others down herself. He didn’t give her a chance.

Despite the ridiculous accusations he’d made, despite his generally disagreeable nature, Abbey liked Sawyer. She’d seen the regretful look in his eyes when he’d shown her the cabin. It might be fanciful thinking on her part, but she believed he’d wanted her to stay. He might not think it was practical or smart, but she sensed that he wanted her here. In Hard Luck.

He might provoke her, irritate her, accuse her of absurd things; yet she found herself wishing she could get to know him better.

That wasn’t likely. Sawyer O’Halloran had made his views plain enough. For whatever reasons, he wanted her gone.

All the suitcases were on the ground, but Sawyer lingered. He started to leave, then turned back.

“I shouldn’t have said that, about you duping Christian. It wasn’t true.”

“Are you apologizing?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then I accept.” She held out her hand.

His fingers closed firmly over hers. “You don’t have to stay in Hard Luck, Abbey,” he said. “No one’s going to think less of you if you leave.”

She held her breath until her chest began to ache. “You don’t understand. I can’t go back now.”

Frowning, he released her hand. “Why can’t you?”

“I sold my car to pay for the kids’ airfare.”

“I already told you I’d buy your tickets home.”

“It’s more than that.”

He hopped onto the tailgate and she joined him. “I want to help you, if you’ll let me,” he said.

She debated admitting how deeply committed she was to this venture, then figured she might as well, because he’d learn the truth sooner or later.

“My furniture and everything I own is in the back of some truck on its way to Alaska. It should get here within a month.”

He shook his head. “It won’t, you know.”

“But that’s what I was told!”

“Your things will be delivered to Fairbanks. There’s no road to Hard Luck.”

She wasn’t completely stupid, no matter what he thought. “I asked Christian and he told me there’s a haul road.”

“The haul road is only passable in winter. It’s twenty-six miles to the Dalton Highway, which doesn’t even resemble the highways you know. It’s little more than a dirt and gravel road. A haul road’s much worse. It crosses two rivers and they need to freeze before you can drive over them.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Abbey, but your furniture won’t go any farther than Fairbanks.”

She took this latest bit of information with a resigned grimace. “Then I’ll wait until winter. It’s not like I have any place to put a love seat, do I?” she asked, gesturing at the cabin.

“No, I guess you don’t.” He eased himself off the tailgate, then gave her a hand down. “I need to get back to the airfield.”

“Thanks for bringing our luggage.”

“No problem.”

“Mom. Mom.” Scott came racing toward her. Keeping pace with him was a large husky. “I found a dog! Look.” He fell to his knees and enthusiastically wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck. “I wonder who he belongs to.”

“That’s Eagle Catcher,” Sawyer said as his eyes widened in shock. “My dog. What’s he doing here? He should be locked in his pen!”

* * *

That evening, Sawyer sat in front of a gentle fire, a book propped in his hands. Eagle Catcher rested on the braided rug by the fireplace. The book didn’t hold his attention. He doubted that anything could distract him from Abbey and her two children.

In all the years he’d lived in Hard Luck, Sawyer had only known intense fear once, and that had been the day his father died.

He never worried, but he did this June night. He worried that Susan or Scott might encounter a bear on their way to the outhouse. He worried that they’d face any number of unforeseen dangers.

He couldn’t help recalling that Emily O’Halloran, an aunt he’d never known, had been lost on the tundra at the age of five. She’d been playing outside his grandparents’ cabin one minute and was gone the next. Without a sound. Without a trace.

For years his grandmother had been distraught and inconsolable over the loss of her youngest child and only daughter. In fact, Anna O’Halloran had named the town. She’d called it Hard Luck because of her husband’s failure to find the rich vein of gold he’d been looking for; with the tragedy of Emily’s death, the name took on new significance.

Worrying about Abbey and her children was enough to ruin Sawyer’s evening. Surely by morning she’d see reason and decide to return to Seattle!

Eagle Catcher rose and walked over to Sawyer’s chair. He placed his head on his master’s knee.

“You surprised me, boy,” Sawyer said, scratching his dog’s ears. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Eagle Catcher and Scott had acted as if they’d been raised together. The rapport between them had been strong and immediate. The first shock had been that the dog had escaped his pen and followed Sawyer’s truck; the second, that he’d so quickly accepted the boy.

“You like Scott, don’t you?”

Eagle Catcher whined as if he understood and was responding to the question.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me, boy. I feel the same way.” About Abbey. About her children.

He tensed. The only solution was for Abbey to leave—for more reasons than he wanted to think about. He prayed she’d use common sense and hightail it out of Hard Luck come morning.

* * *

The cabin wasn’t so bad, Abbey decided after her first two days. It was a lot like camping, only inside. She could almost pretend it was fun, but she longed for a real shower and a meal that wasn’t limited to sandwiches.

Other than their complaints about having to use an outhouse, her children had adjusted surprisingly well.

The summer months would be tolerable, Abbey thought, but she couldn’t ignore Sawyer’s warning about the winter.

As for her work at the library, Abbey loved it. Sawyer had seen to the delivery of the bookcases from his mother’s house, along with a solid wood desk and chair for her.

The day after her arrival, Abbey had set about categorizing the books and creating a filing system. Someday she planned to have everything on a computer, but first things first.

“How are things going?” Pearl Inman asked, letting herself into the library.

“Fine, thanks.”

“I brought you a cup of coffee. I was hoping to talk you into taking a short break.”

Abbey stood and stretched, placing her hands at the small of her back. “I could use one.” She walked to the door and looked outside, wondering about Scott and Susan, who were out exploring. It was all so different from their life in a Seattle high-rise. She knew Scott and Ronny spent a good part of each day down at the airfield pestering Sawyer.

If Scott wasn’t with Ronny, then he was with Sawyer’s dog. Abbey couldn’t remember a time her son had been so content.

Susan and Chrissie Harris spent nearly every minute they could with each other. In two days’ time they’d become virtually inseparable. Mitch Harris had stopped by to introduce himself. Mitch, Abbey recalled, worked for the Department of the Interior and was the local public safety officer. He seemed grateful that his daughter had a new friend.

“I can’t believe the progress you’ve made,” Pearl said, surveying the room. “This is grand, just grand. Ellen will be delighted.”

Abbey knew that Ellen was Sawyer’s mother and the woman who’d donated the books to the town.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Sawyer lately?” Pearl asked, pouring them each a cup from her thermos.

“Not a word in almost two days,” Abbey admitted, hoping none of her disappointment showed in her voice.

“He’s been in a bad mood from the moment you got here. I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy. I haven’t seen him behave like this since his father died. He blamed himself, you know.”

Abbey settled on a corner of the desk and left the chair for the older woman.

“What happened to his father?”

Pearl raised the cup to her lips. “David was killed in an accident several years ago. They’d flown to one of the lakes for some fishing, which David loved. On the trip home, the plane developed engine trouble and they were forced down. David was badly injured in the crash. It was just the two of them deep in the bush.” She paused and sipped at her coffee.

“You can imagine how Sawyer must have felt, fighting to keep his father alive until help arrived. They were alone for two hours before anyone could reach them, but it was too late by then. David was gone.”

Abbey closed her eyes as she thought of the stark terror that must have gripped Sawyer, alone in the bush with his dying father.

“If I live another sixty years I’ll never forget the sight of Sawyer carrying his father from the airfield. He was covered in David’s blood and refused to let him go. It was far too late, of course. David was already dead. We had to pry him out of Sawyer’s arms.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Abbey whispered. “It was an accident. There was nothing he could’ve done.”

“There isn’t a one of us who didn’t tell him that. The accident changed him. It changed Hard Luck. Soon Ellen moved away and eventually remarried. Catherine Fletcher grieved something fierce. That was when her health started to fail.”

“Have I met Catherine?” Abbey asked, wondering why Pearl would mention a woman other than David’s wife.

“Catherine Fletcher. Used to be Catherine Harmon. No...no, she’s in a nursing home in Anchorage now. Her daughter lives there.”

Pearl must have read the question in Abbey’s eyes. “Catherine and David were engaged before World War II. She loved him as a teenager and she never stopped. Not even when she married someone else. David broke her heart when he returned from the war with an English bride.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Ellen never quite fit in with the folks in Hard Luck. She seemed different from us, standoffish. I don’t think she meant to be, and I don’t think she realized how she looked to others. It took me a few years myself to see that it was just Ellen’s way. She was really quite shy, felt out of place. It didn’t help any that she didn’t have children right away. She tried. God knows she wanted a family. They were married almost fifteen years before Charles was born.”

“You said Catherine got married?” Abbey asked, her heart aching for the jilted woman.

“Oh, yes, on the rebound, right after David returned from the war. She gave birth to Kate nine months later and was divorced from Willie Fletcher within two years.”

“She never remarried?”

“Never. I thought for a time that she and David would get back together, but it wasn’t to be. Ellen left him, you see, and returned to England. Christian was about ten at the time. She was gone well over a year.” She shook her head, then sighed. “You can understand how David’s death affected everyone in town. Especially Sawyer.”

“Of course.”

“What I don’t get is why he’s upset now. He’s walking around like a bear with a sore paw, snapping at everyone.”

Abbey gaped at her. “You think it’s got something to do with me?”

“That’s my guess. But what do I know?” Pearl asked. She drank the rest of her coffee and stood up to leave. “I’d best get back to the clinic before someone misses me.” The clinic was in the community building, close to the school and the church.

She tucked the thermos under her arm. “So, are you staying in Hard Luck or not?” she asked. Her question had an edge to it, as if she wasn’t sure she was going to like the answer.

Abbey told her the truth. “I’d like to stay.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Abbey grinned. “I’m staying.”

Pearl’s lined face softened. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. We need you, and I have a feeling Sawyer wants you to stay, too.”

Abbey laughed in disbelief. “I doubt that.” And if it was true once, she felt certain it no longer was.

“No, really,” Pearl countered. “Unfortunately that boy doesn’t have the brains of a muskrat when it comes to dealing with an attractive woman.” She made her way to the door. “Give him time and a little patience, and he’ll come around.” With a cheerful wave, Pearl left.

Abbey returned to work and got busy unloading another box of Ellen’s books. Knowing what she did now, the collection took on new meaning for her. Many of the books dated from the early to mid-fifties. Those were the childless years, when Ellen had yearned for a baby. Abbey suspected that Ellen O’Halloran had gained solace from these books, that they’d substituted for the friends she hadn’t been able to make in this town so far from England.

As she set a pile of Mary Roberts Rinehart mysteries on the desk, she heard the distinctive sound of Sawyer’s truck pulling up outside.

Her heart started to race, but she continued working.

He stormed inside and stood in the doorway, hands on his hips. His presence filled the room until Abbey felt hedged in by the sheer strength of it. “Have you decided to stay?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she answered smoothly. “I’m staying.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she said with conviction. And she was sure. During her conversation with Pearl, she’d made up her mind.

“Fine. You’re moving.”

“Where?” Abbey had been told often enough that there wasn’t any other place available.

“You can stay in Christian’s house. He phoned this afternoon, and he’s decided to make a vacation out of this trip. I’ll let him decide what to do with you when he gets home.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.