Книга - The Alaskan Catch

The Alaskan Catch
Beth Carpenter


Where life's currents take you…Dana Raynott just traveled 3,600 miles to reunite with the brother who changed his name and fled to Alaska nineteen years ago. It’s impossible not to be moved by this wild, breathtaking country, even if Dana’s no closer to finding the answers she came here for.Her brother’s best friend, Anchorage engineer Sam MacKettrick, might be able to help her. He's strong and kind—a six-foot, irresistible blend of diverse cultures. He’s also haunted by a tragic family history with a startling connection to Dana’s past…







Where life’s currents take you…

Dana Raynott just traveled 3,600 miles to reunite with the brother who changed his name and fled to Alaska nineteen years ago. It’s impossible not to be moved by this wild, breathtaking state, even if Dana’s no closer to finding the answers she came here for.

Her brother’s best friend, Anchorage engineer Sam MacKettrick, might be able to help her. He’s strong and kind—a six-foot, irresistible blend of diverse cultures. He’s also haunted by a tragic family history with a startling connection to Dana’s past...


Sam met her eyes. “I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Dana reached for his hand. “I’m honored.”

He held her gaze for a long moment before he stepped closer and slowly lowered his head. Her lips parted in a tiny gasp just before he pressed his mouth against hers. She closed her eyes and let her entire focus shift to the sensation of their lips meeting. His hands settled on her waist; her arms reached up around his neck. She pushed her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him closer. He responded, tilting his head and deepening the kiss.

He didn’t rush, simply kissed her as though it was the one and only purpose of his life. Dana had dated a few other men, and yet somehow she’d never truly been kissed.

Not like this.


Dear Reader (#u2302ccff-f300-50f9-b87b-1a2defd6d4e7),

Welcome to Anchorage. I’m thrilled to be able to share my hometown with you in my very first Harlequin, The Alaskan Catch. It’s the first story in my Northern Lights series, all about life and love in Alaska.

Anchorage is the kind of city where you can dine on grilled king salmon with béarnaise sauce prepared by a master chef or catch your own salmon in one of the creeks that run through the city—maybe on the same day. This mix of wild and refined is one of the reasons people fall in love with the place. A story I’ve heard over and over is “I came to Alaska for a summer and I never left.” They found home.

I wanted to capture that feeling in this story. Dana, the heroine, has been the glue holding her family together, especially since her brother’s unexplained departure nineteen years ago. After her father’s death, she heads to Alaska to find her brother and get some answers.

But pinning her brother down is more complicated than she anticipated. While she’s waiting, his roommate, Sam, shows up and takes charge. When Sam shares his favorite wild Alaskan places with her, Dana discovers an adventurous streak she never knew she had. And with Sam, she feels confident enough to let it out, knowing she’ll treasure these memories once she returns home. Only her heart isn’t sure where home is anymore.

If you enjoy The Alaskan Catch, keep an eye out for the next Northern Lights novel, coming this Christmas.

Happy reading!

Beth Carpenter


The Alaskan Catch

Beth Carpenter






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


BETH CARPENTER is thankful for good books, a good dog, a good man and a dream job creating happily-ever-afters. She and her husband now split their time between Alaska and Arizona, where she occasionally encounters a moose in the yard or a scorpion in the basement. She prefers the moose.


To my mother. For all those Scholastic books you let me order, all the trips to the library, all the years of unwavering support and so much more...thank you.


Contents

Cover (#u2230a7bd-0839-5aeb-8e7b-8101d15922da)

Back Cover Text (#uc0eb1f62-f954-58e1-8c2f-68eb32250d2c)

Introduction (#u9bc9d9c4-051a-5e9f-8cf3-345fd25fc50b)

Dear Reader (#u13295a56-cc5b-5ef4-af82-179455fccb2e)

Title Page (#u7998ae76-02f3-57b8-a819-6e2931873fe5)

About the Author (#u5897d81e-c293-5ad0-8d46-4ec2c0d57ca4)

Dedication (#ufe1c17a4-3900-5064-bf5c-4d59c686dd53)

CHAPTER ONE (#u54a5e7a8-730b-546e-b561-e3ced641e3ca)

CHAPTER TWO (#ude874d47-2bd8-547c-88ff-8b8167613295)

CHAPTER THREE (#ub62d5302-2b09-5a10-9d80-8df7173a8ac2)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u493de5bf-df85-5470-978b-ff7c36965ceb)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u2302ccff-f300-50f9-b87b-1a2defd6d4e7)

NOT AN IGLOO in sight. Dana wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Somehow she’d expected...maybe not an igloo, but something more exotic than the sage-green split-level at the end of a cul-de-sac. Only the dense spruce forest behind the house and towering mountains in the background hinted she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. That and the salmon-shaped mailbox across the street.

The house number matched the address the private investigator employed by the estate had given her. This was it. She paid the taxi driver, collected her suitcase, climbed the three steps to the porch and stood there, staring at the doorbell. Nineteen years. Fifty-four percent of her life. A lot could change in nineteen years, although apparently not her brother’s taste in vehicles. The battered blue pickup in the driveway wasn’t too different from the one he’d been in the last time she saw him, through the crack in her bedroom curtains. She could still picture Dad scowling in the driveway, his arms folded across his chest, while Chris burned rubber and burned bridges, roaring out of their lives.

How would Chris react after all this time? Clearly, he had no overwhelming desire to see her. He could have gotten in touch with her anytime, right where he left her all those years ago. She wasn’t the one who ran away to Alaska, who changed her name. Who obviously didn’t want to be found.

But, after a long and expensive search, she had found him. Letters from the lawyer had garnered no response, so she came in person. Would she even know him after all this time? What if he slammed the door in her face? But she hadn’t flown thirty-six hundred miles to chicken out now. Maybe he still felt something for the home where they’d been raised. After all, it was only forty-seven percent of Chris’s life since he left. Less than half.

As always, the mental calculation calmed her. She set down her suitcase and reached for the bell, but before she could push the button, the door flew open and a big brown dog rushed out. Dana stepped back and might have fallen down the steps if the man hadn’t grabbed her arm.

“Hey, careful there.” The bean pole she remembered had filled out, with a wide chest and shoulders that looked as though he could carry a moose. In spite of the two inches she’d grown after he left, Chris was still a foot taller than her, his rust-colored hair wild and curly with a beard to match. His blue eyes held an expression of puzzlement as he looked at her.

She studied his face, waiting for a spark of recognition. “Hello, Chris.”

After a moment, a grin spread across his face and laugh lines formed around his eyes. “Dana!” He dropped the duffel bag he was carrying and crushed her into a bear hug, lifting her from the ground, just as he always had when he came home from college and she would run to greet him. The years melted away as she hugged her big brother.

Finally, he set her back on her feet. His eyes skimmed over her. “You grew up.”

“That happens.”

“I guess so.” He shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe it’s you. How did you get here?”

“The usual. Airplane. Taxi.” She glanced at the duffel at his feet. “I see you were on your way out.”

“Yeah, actually.” His face grew more pensive. “But I have a few minutes. Come in. Do you want something to drink? Coffee, maybe?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He picked up her suitcase and led her up the short flight of stairs. A brown leather couch and two recliners faced a giant television. Snowshoes decorated the wall above a rough stone fireplace in the corner. Behind them, a butcher-block island with four barstools divided the living room from the kitchen. “Have a seat. Is instant okay?”

“That’s fine.” She perched on the edge of the couch. The dog picked a rubber bone from the floor and dropped it into her lap, then sat and tilted his head, looking up at her.

“That’s Kimmik.”

“Hi, Kimmik.” Dana stroked the dog’s head, and his tail thumped against the floor. Yellow eyes met hers. “What kind of dog is he?”

“A chocolate-brown Lab. At least that’s the general consensus. He was a stray.” Chris poured boiling water into two mugs, stirred and set them on the slate coffee table. “I hope black is okay. I don’t have any milk.”

“Black is fine.” She really didn’t want coffee, but since he offered, she didn’t want to refuse.

He sat down on the chair next to her. “So—” his mouth quirked “—did you ever get your driver’s license?”

She laughed. Thanks to his inexpert coaching on driving a stick, she’d failed the driving test the first time. “I did, finally. What have you been up to all this time?” She looked around the room but saw no signs of a feminine influence. “Married? Kids?”

“Nope. Near miss once. How about you?”

She shook her head. “Not even close. I went to college and then went to work for Dad.” She’d planned to teach math, but Dad insisted he wanted her there, in the business. Sometimes she wondered why.

Chris raised his eyebrows. “The old man know you’re here?”

She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “Actually, that’s what I came to tell you.” She licked her lips. “He died about three months ago.” She handed Chris the obituary.

He didn’t take it. Instead, his face went blank, his eyes staring into the distance. She set the clipping on the coffee table. After a moment, he blinked and turned to look at her. “Three months, huh?” He picked up the scrap of paper and read it over, his face impassive, but his jaw grew tighter as he read. Dana had helped write the article, all about her father’s success in tool rentals, his contributions to the community and his surviving wife and two children. It, of course, didn’t mention Chris’s absence from the family. When Chris was done, he let the paper flutter to the table, saying nothing.

After a moment, Dana spoke. “The lawyers tried to contact you, but you didn’t answer their letters.”

He frowned. “I remember some sort of letters with a return address for a law office, but I assumed they were some sort of scam and threw them away. What did they want with me?”

“You’re his son.”

“I’m not.” He shook his head firmly. “We dissolved that relationship a long time ago.”

“Is that something you can dissolve?”

He shrugged. “He did.”

Dana leaned forward. Maybe she was finally going to get some answers. “What was that all about, anyway? The big fight.”

Chris looked away. “He didn’t want me to come to Alaska.”

“That’s it?”

“In a nutshell. He said if I stepped foot in Alaska, I was no longer his son. I came, anyway.”

There had to be more to it than that. Yeah, Dad could be a little dictatorial, but he’d overlooked much more blatant disobedience from Chris than an unauthorized destination. Like when he was thirteen and drove Mom’s car three towns over to visit a girl he’d met at a basketball game. Or the secret party he’d thrown at the warehouse his senior year of high school that turned out not to be so secret. She was tempted to point that out, but confronting Chris directly had never been the way to get him to talk. She tried another tack. “You’re in his will.”

His eyebrows rose. “What did he leave me, a cyanide pill?”

“Same as he left me—fifty thousand dollars.”

He stared at her. “No way.”

“I have the papers you need to sign. They say the estate—”

“What about Mom?”

“She got the house, the business and all the investments. In trust.”

He sat very still, as though he was taking it all in. Kimmik whined and laid his head in Chris’s lap. He rubbed the dog’s ears. Dana picked up the mug and took a sip of coffee. After a moment, Chris turned to her. “It was good of you to go to all this trouble to find me, but I don’t want anything from him.”

“But—”

“No. Thanks for the offer, but I’m doing fine on my own.”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This inheritance was supposed to bring them together, to reunite the family. To show Chris his father cared enough to leave him money. At least that’s the picture Dana had imagined when she had decided to make the trip.

“Come on, Chris. He wanted you to have it.”

Chris stared into the empty fireplace, working his jaw. Dana sat very still and watched him. Her hand trembled, threatening to spill the coffee. She set the mug on the table.

Chris turned toward her. “When did he make this will?”

Dana couldn’t meet his eyes. “The year I was born.” She looked up. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t want you to have the money. He had plenty of time to change it if he’d wanted to.”

“What happens if I decline my share?”

Dana shrugged. “It goes to me. But I don’t want that. He’s your father as much as he is mine.”

He tilted his head. “You came all the way up to Alaska to convince me to take the money, when it’s in your best interest if I don’t?”

“I came to find you.” And to find out what happened between him and Dad nineteen years ago, but she wouldn’t push. Yet. “Also, I wanted to look into some letters the lawyers found in Dad’s safe.”

Chris tightened his hand into a ball. “What kind of letters?”

“From some woman named Ruth. No last name. She claimed Dad owed money. The lawyers aren’t worried. They posted a notice, and if no one has filed a claim within four months, it’s too late. But there was something—I don’t know—desperate in that letter. It sounded sincere to me. Anyway, I thought I’d look into it. I just have to find the son of someone called Roy Petrov.”

He jerked his head toward her. “Who?”

“Roy Petrov. From Fairbanks. Why? Do you recognize the name?”

Chris rose abruptly, pushing the dog away, and walked into the kitchen to set his mug on the counter. “Sorry, but I’m not going to be able to help you. I don’t want anything to do with that money.”

She stood and followed him. “Think it over before you decide.”

“I’m not changing my mind, and I have to go.” He slung his duffel over his shoulder. “Look, Dana, thanks, but no thanks. I appreciate that you came all the way here, and I wish I could spend some time with you, but you should have called first or something. I have people waiting for me. I’m sorry you wasted a trip.”

He started for the door, but after two steps he turned back and looked at her, indecision written on his face. “Where are you staying?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

“No reservations? You won’t find anything last minute at a reasonable price this time of year.” He sighed and pulled out a key ring from the kitchen drawer. “I’ll tell you what. You came all the way to Alaska—you might as well have a little vacation.” He tossed her the keys. “You can stay here and use my car until you’re ready to go home. It’s in the garage. Take the first bedroom on the left down that hallway. You’ll find clean sheets in the hall closet.” He whistled. The dog jumped up and followed him out the door.

What just happened? Dana ran to the porch and watched Kimmik jump into the truck. Chris climbed in after. She’d found her brother after nineteen years and he was walking out on her? “Where are you going?”

He leaned out the open window as he backed out of the driveway. “Fishing.”

She stood on the porch until his truck turned the corner and disappeared, all her hopes disappearing along with him. Fishing? Really? She thought she’d prepared for all possible outcomes, but this wasn’t one of them. Not for Chris to ignore her like this.

They’d been close once. Chris was the golden boy, honor student, gifted athlete. Their father didn’t spend a lot of time with them, but she used to hear him brag to their neighbors and friends about Chris’s accomplishments. The fact that her GPA was actually higher than Chris’s didn’t seem to register on Dad’s radar. But Chris noticed. He encouraged her to take honors classes, to compete in Math Olympics, to enter the science fair.

She was sixteen when it all fell apart, the summer between Chris’s junior and senior years of college. On Saturday, Chris was his usual cheerful self, putting some things in the attic at Mom’s request. Dana went to a movie with friends that night. On Sunday morning, after some muffled yelling behind the closed doors of Dad’s study, Chris left without saying goodbye. From that day forward, her dad refused to talk about him. It was as though she’d never had a brother.

She wandered into the house and collapsed onto the sofa. What now? Tuck her tail between her legs and go home? She probably should be there, making sure her mother wasn’t in negotiations for the Taj Mahal, but she’d come all the way to Alaska for answers, and she wasn’t going to leave without them.

She would just have to wait for Chris to come back from his fishing trip and try again. Surely, once they sat down and really talked, Chris would understand why she needed to know what happened. He could accept the inheritance, and they could make up and be a family once again.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked the screen and braced herself. “Hi, Mom.”

“I got a bill for that new étagère I’m having made. Should I send a check?”

Of course she’d be worried about something she was buying. “If the amount looks right, just put it in the basket for Ginny to handle next week.”

“But what if someone else’s check arrives first and I lose my place in line? This is a handcrafted artisanal piece. He only makes so many.”

Considering there was hardly room to walk in her mother’s bedroom now, Dana didn’t see the urgency to acquire another piece of furniture. But if she said so, Mom would explain why this piece was a bargain or one of a kind or some other reason she had to have it. By the time the piece was delivered, she would have forgotten all about it and moved on to her next acquisition.

Her mother had never even learned to write a check until Dad died. Dana taught her how so she would be able to pay the bills, but she was beginning to think that had been a mistake. Mom seemed to delight in it, like a kid with a new toy. However, she wasn’t so eager for a lesson on balancing a checkbook. There was a good reason Dad had doled out Mom’s weekly spending allowance in cash; cash couldn’t be overdrawn.

That’s why Dana hired someone to handle her mother’s bills and checkbook while she was out of town. She would only be gone a week or two, most likely. How much trouble could Mom get into in that amount of time? “If you think it’s important, go ahead. Just make a note for Ginny with the check number and amount.”

“I’ll do that.” Mom’s voice relaxed. “What is it you’re doing again?”

Dana repressed a sigh. “I told you, I was going on a trip to look for Chris.”

“Oh, yes. Did you find him?” Honestly. She asked about the son she hadn’t seen in almost two decades with the same level of interest as asking about a misplaced sock. Dana would suspect senility except Mom wasn’t that old, and Dana could never remember her being any other way. Only things mattered to her, never people.

“I did find him. In Anchorage.”

“Anchorage, Alaska?” This time, some emotion sounded in her voice. It almost sounded like fear. “What are you doing in Alaska?”

“I told you. Chris is here.” Dana stood and paced across the living room.

“Did you talk to him?”

“Briefly. He was on his way out.”

“So he hasn’t agreed to accept the bequest?”

“Not yet. I’ll talk to him again later.”

“I don’t know why you had to go all that way. Isn’t that what we pay the lawyers for?”

“I volunteered. Since I’m not working—”

“Why did you quit, anyway? Doesn’t the business your father built mean anything to you?”

It used to. Dana had worked her tail off in her father’s business, Reliable Equipment and Tool Rental, and due in no small part to her efforts, it thrived. She kept waiting for Dad to notice. But then he got sick and appointed his golf buddy as manager. Dana had tried to tell Dad she could handle it, but he said he didn’t want her to put in the extra hours in the office when he needed her at home taking care of him. And somehow, he’d never gotten around to updating the will. “I just couldn’t work under Jerry.”

“You worked under him for two years after Wayne had his first heart attack.”

“Yes, but that was when I thought—Never mind. It shouldn’t take too long to finish up my business here. I’ll be home before you know it. In the meantime, Ginny can take care of everything. You’ll be okay, won’t you?”

“I suppose so.” Her mother hesitated. “Just be careful. Don’t they have wild animals or something up there?”

Dana glanced out the window at the suburban neighborhood. A pair of birds soared in front of the green mountains rising behind it. She’d never seen a more peaceful vista in her life. Still, Mom had shown a smidge of concern for someone besides herself. That was progress. Dana smiled. “I’ll be careful. Bye, Mom.”

Dana set her phone on the table. Some things never changed. Shopping was her mother’s overriding passion. Almost every day brought another shopping bag of stuff into the house. Once Dana was old enough, her after-school job was to find the items that still carried price tags and return them to the store so Mom would have enough cash to buy groceries and household supplies. Fortunately, Mom’s favorite department store was still downtown then, within walking distance of their house.

Dana hated the walk of shame to the customer service window every other day, but the employees were understanding, all except one. When Mrs. Valens, the owner’s wife, happened to be working returns, she always threw out a catty comment guaranteed to turn Dana’s face crimson.

But in spite of Dana’s efforts, the house overflowed with furniture, clothes, knickknacks and decorations. That was one of the reasons Dana loved her own little cottage, with a minimum amount of clutter despite all the gifts Mom tried to foist onto her. She’d lined up her favorite books in neat rows on the bookshelves, sorted kitchen utensils into bins in the drawers and corralled pens and pencils into pretty mugs. It was comfortable, and she could use some of that comfort right now.

But what Dana needed was a plan of action. She wasn’t going home until she’d come to some sort of understanding with Chris. With her father gone, she was determined to bring Chris back into the family. He said she could stay in his house and use his car, so he must have a soft spot for her somewhere. She could just wait here until he came back. How long did fishing trips usually last, anyway? A day or two?

In the meantime, she might as well settle in. She carried the cold mug of coffee to the kitchen, poured it down the sink and opened the refrigerator door. Mustard, ketchup and three bottles of beer. Definitely a bachelor’s place.

She found a pad in a drawer and started a list. Milk, bread, eggs and a few more staples. And she’d get ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, Chris’s favorite. Homemade food always softened him up. After washing the mugs, she grabbed her purse and Chris’s key ring and stepped through the kitchen door into the garage.

A gleaming red convertible greeted her, parked in the shadow of a pickup with a camper shell. Wow. Maybe Chris’s taste in cars had evolved. But how could he afford a house and three cars on a job that allowed him to start a fishing trip on a Tuesday afternoon? A few unwelcome possibilities flitted through her mind. Was “fishing” a euphemism for something else?

Chris wouldn’t do anything...illegal. Would he? Not the Chris she knew. But then, she didn’t know him anymore. Still, if he were some sort of criminal, he would have jumped at the offer of ready cash. Right?

She slid onto the soft leather seats of the car. A big step-up from her six-year-old compact. She rested her hand on the stick shift and smiled, remembering Chris’s patient, if ineffective, tutoring. With the press of a button, the garage door opened. After a little fumbling, trying to decipher the key system, she located a start button and the engine roared to life, then settled into a smooth purr. Cool.

The car prowled up the street. Dana slowed to a crawl and inched over an unusually large speed bump. She didn’t want to take a chance on messing up Chris’s gorgeous car. She almost felt guilty for using it to run errands. It was designed for something much less mundane, like swooping around the curves of a scenic highway in a dramatic chase scene for a movie.

She’d passed a grocery store in the taxi on the way, so she headed in that direction and found what she needed.

After arriving home and putting away the groceries, Dana nibbled on a salad from the store deli. In spite of the daylight still gleaming through the windows, the clock on the microwave read nine thirty, which would make it well after midnight in Kansas, where she’d started the day. She yawned and found the sheets Chris had mentioned and then carried them into a spare bedroom. A large desk dominated one side of the room, with a single bed beside the thick curtain covering the window on the other side. She made the bed, changed into pajamas and opened the closet door to set her suitcase inside.

A blue canvas bag took up the floor space. She tried to push it with her foot but found it surprisingly heavy. Curious, she unzipped the top. It seemed to be filled with heavy ropes mostly, but also two helmets. She lifted one of the helmets and drew back. A red pistol sat atop the ropes. Dropping the helmet back inside, she zipped the bag closed. Her suitcase would be fine under the bed.

She slipped between the sheets and closed her eyes. Maybe Chris would be back tomorrow. Maybe he would have changed his mind. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe.

* * *

SAM YAWNED AS he dug American bills from the back of his wallet to pay for the taxi. The aggravations of travel on top of twenty-eight straight days of twelve-hour shifts always left him feeling like a bowl of mashed potatoes. He usually spent his first two days at home catching up on sleep.

He hefted the huge duffel over his shoulder and climbed the steps to the front door. Even at three in the morning, enough predawn light leaked over the mountains to allow him to fit his key into the keyhole.

He flicked on the lights, dumped his bag and wandered up to the kitchen. Might as well wind down with a beer before bed. He had to rearrange milk and eggs to reach the bottle. Odd. Chris’s truck was missing, so he’d assumed Chris would have cleaned out the fridge before going. He scavenged through a drawer, searching for the bottle opener.

“Hold it right there.”

Sam blinked. He knew he was tired, but was he hallucinating? A woman wearing flowery shorts and a pink tank top stood in his living room, near the hallway. She couldn’t have been more than five-two or -three, but the red gun in her hands more than made up for her petite size. Especially since the hands seemed to be shaking.

He set the beer bottle on the counter. “Easy, there.”

“Put your hands up.”

He raised his hands, slowly. “Who are you?”

“Never mind who I am. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I’m Sam MacKettrick. This is my house.”

“This is Chris’s house.”

Sam nodded. “Yes, Chris lives here, too. You know Chris?” He spoke slowly and gently, as he would to a timid child.

“Chris is my brother. He said I could stay here.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know Chris had a sister.”

The gun wobbled. “Maybe you don’t know Chris at all. Maybe you’re making it all up. Maybe you’re here to rob the place.”

“Calm down. That’s not a real gun, you know. It’s a flare gun.” Not that he found that reassuring. Flare guns weren’t particularly accurate, but if she managed to hit him with a flare, it wouldn’t be pretty. Even if she missed, she might burn the house down.

Her gaze wavered, but then she raised her chin. “I suspect it could still do a lot of damage.”

“No doubt, if you actually loaded a flare inside.” He guessed by the flicker in her eyes she hadn’t, but he wasn’t about to bet his life on it. After a quick scan of the room, he located the pile of envelopes in the corner of the island. “If you check the mail, I’m sure you’ll find some bills in my name at this address.”

She glanced uneasily at the letters, then at him. “You back away and I’ll check.”

“All right. I’m just going to get my wallet from my pocket so you can see my driver’s license, okay?”

“Slowly.”

Sam set the open wallet on the counter beside the mail and eased toward the front door to give himself a chance to escape, in case she wasn’t convinced. She crept to the island and looked over everything while keeping the pistol trained on him. Finally, her shoulders relaxed a fraction, and she set the gun on the island, her hand trembling. “Sorry. Chris didn’t tell me about you.”

“So I gathered.” She didn’t look nearly as tough without the gun. In fact, she was kind of cute, with glossy brown hair, big dark eyes and a little pink mouth. “Now it’s my turn. Chris never mentioned a sister. How do I know you are who you say you are? For that matter, who are you?”

“Dana.” She hesitated and then stepped forward to offer her hand as if they were in a business meeting. Her small hand was soft inside his.

“Hello, Dana. So, prove to me you’re Chris’s sister. When is his birthday?”

“February 15.”

He cast around in his mind for another test. “First pet?”

She frowned. “We never had any pets. Well, except Chris used to have a betta in a bowl in his room. He always wanted a dog, but Dad wouldn’t let him get one.”

That checked out. Weird that Chris would mention his fish, but not his sister. But Sam was too tired to worry about that right now, and he had trouble seeing the girl in pink pajamas as much of a threat now that she was disarmed. He picked up the pistol to take with him, just in case. “Well, Dana, I’ve been traveling for three days and I’m wiped out. Make yourself at home. I’m going to bed.”


CHAPTER TWO (#u2302ccff-f300-50f9-b87b-1a2defd6d4e7)

THE SMELL OF bacon lured Sam into consciousness and started his mouth watering. He yawned and checked the clock. Almost noon. He considered turning over and going back to sleep, but his hunger overruled his exhaustion.

The red flare gun rested on his nightstand, reminding him not to go stumbling into the kitchen in his boxer shorts. A houseguest. Just what he needed after a particularly exhausting hitch. The least Chris could have done was text him a warning that there would be a strange woman in his house. Or maybe he had. Did Sam remember to turn his phone on after the flight?

Sure enough, a message waited when he powered up the phone.

Gone fishing. Girl staying at the house a few days. Should be gone before you’re home.

Apparently, Chris had lost track of Sam’s work rotation schedule, which wasn’t unusual. Chris had enough trouble keeping track of his own.

If it were anyone but his sister, Sam might suspect Chris was setting him up. He’d been needling Sam lately about the scarcity of women in his life. But what was the point of dating when Sam spent half his life out of the country? And assuming everything fell the way he wanted, he would eventually get promoted to a full-time posting overseas, in Dubai or Norway or the UK. A girlfriend would only get in the way of his career. Chris knew that as well as he did.

In the meantime, Sam was a supervising drilling engineer on the Siberian project, with a big fat budget and big fat expectations. Not bad for the kid who used to wear thrift-store clothes and eat on the free lunch program.

Early on, Sam had learned not to ask for things he saw in the store, for new snow boots or a football, because whenever he did, his mom would get angry and mutter under her breath about Raynott. For a long time, Sam thought Raynott was a curse word, but it turned out to be a name.

He’d only seen it written once, one day when he got off the school bus and picked up the mail on the way to the apartment. The landlord was there at the mailboxes, growling something about reminding his mom the rent was late, again. Like she didn’t know that. They were always late. Chances were they’d be moving on soon, the way they always did when landlords started getting persistent.

The envelope on top had the name Raynott in the corner with a return address from some other state. When his mom opened it, Sam got a glimpse of a check, and for a moment, he believed in miracles. But Mom swore and tore the check into confetti, yelling something about blood money. He knew better than to ask questions when she was in a mood, so he kept silent.

But that was a long time ago and he’d come a long way. He’d burned the mortgage on this house last year and had substantial equity in a property on the Kenai Peninsula. His job paid well, and according to his boss, Ethan, the company had big plans for him. And it was summer in Alaska, with four weeks off to play. Of course, thanks to Chris, he had a houseguest to consider. He caught another whiff of something cooking and his stomach growled, convincing him it was time to face his unexpected visitor. But first, he needed a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, his hair still damp, Sam stepped into the living room. Chris’s sister stood behind the island, stirring a pot. Apparently, she’d taken him at his word to make herself at home. What was her name again? Dana, that was it. Today, she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, making her brown eyes appear huge. She favored him with a sheepish smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“About last night—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know why Chris didn’t tell me you’d be coming home.”

“My travel schedule isn’t always reliable. Chris doesn’t keep track of exactly when I’m due in.”

“Well, anyway, I’m sorry. Believe me when I say I don’t usually go around waving guns. I found a great fish shop this morning, and I’m making seafood chowder and smoked salmon BLTs for lunch. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. But you didn’t have to cook for me.”

“I like cooking. Coffee’s made if you want some.”

Sure enough, fresh brew dripped into the pot of the coffee maker. Sam filled a mug and took his first sip. She must have picked up a quality blend somewhere. Much better than that instant powder Chris used, and a whole different animal than the vile stuff that passed for coffee at the rig. Dana popped some bread into the toaster. Today she wore a denim skirt and pink T-shirt. Pink seemed to be a theme with her. He went to perch on a barstool on the far side of the island and watched Dana assemble sandwiches.

She worked with an economy of motion, slicing tomatoes, zesting a lemon, patting lettuce leaves dry. Within a few minutes, she had two professional-looking sandwiches arranged on plates, each with a bowl of creamy chowder. She set one in front of him and handed him a spoon. “Enjoy.”

Sam bit into the sandwich. It had never occurred to him to pair salmon and bacon, but the result was amazing. The lemon mayo was the perfect counterpoint to the smoky flavors. He nodded as he chewed. “This is good.” He took another enthusiastic bite.

“Thanks.” She set her plate in front of another barstool, but instead of coming around, she stopped to watch him, a little smirk on her face. “You really were starved, weren’t you? Would you like another sandwich?”

Sam set what was left of his sandwich on his plate and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth. You’d think after all these years he would have learned not to gobble. He no longer had to worry that he wouldn’t get enough food, that the other kids at the shelter would take his if he didn’t eat fast. Ursula’s efforts to civilize him had been met with mixed results.

He tried for a carefree smile. “One is plenty.” He tasted the chowder and laid down his spoon. “This is excellent. You’re a good cook.”

“Thanks.” She smiled back and came to sit beside him. “So, you said you’d been traveling. Did you have a nice vacation?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t vacation. I’m working a twenty-eight-day rotation in Siberia.”

“Siberia?” She stared at him as if he’d said Mars.

“Yeah. We’re doing some infill drilling.”

“What does a rotation mean?”

“I work for four weeks straight, and then my alternate takes over and I have the next four weeks off. Unfortunately, it takes about three days to get from there to here, which eats into my time off.”

“I guess it would.” She took a bite of her sandwich and continued to watch him as if she were observing an exotic animal in the zoo. He took the opportunity to wolf down a few spoonfuls of the rich chowder.

She took a sip of coffee. “How long have you known Chris?”

He swallowed. “Let’s see. I was in my senior year at the University of Alaska Fairbanks when we met, so seventeen years. I had a part-time job at a pizza restaurant, and he started working there as a cook. We’ve been friends ever since.”

“And he never mentioned he had a sister?”

“No.” He watched her face, looking for signs of distress, but she seemed more puzzled than anything. “Chris doesn’t talk about his family.”

“Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“Not especially. Sometimes people come to Alaska to get away from something or someone. If people don’t volunteer information, you learn not to ask.”

“Oh.” She bit into her sandwich.

“So, I gather this is your first time in Alaska?”

“Yes. It’s beautiful. I love the mountains.”

“What brings you here after all this time?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “My father died. He and Chris had some sort of falling out. I don’t know what it was all about, but Chris left when I was sixteen. I needed to find him and let him know Dad left him something in his will.”

“Good for Chris. Did you get a chance to tell him before he left?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip. “But he didn’t seem too happy about it.”

Sam swallowed a spoonful of soup. “I can understand that.”

“Really? Because I don’t.” Dana leaned a little closer. “Obviously, Dad left him the money to try to make it up to him. Why won’t Chris accept it?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t want to make up. Maybe it’s too little, too late. You don’t know what was said.”

“I know my father was a good man. How bad could it have been?”

Sam considered while he chewed another bite of sandwich. “Bad enough to make your brother leave home and never go back. If Chris takes the money, it gives your father all the power. Maybe Chris doesn’t want to be beholden to the man who kicked him out.”

“How do you know he kicked him out?”

“I don’t. But I know Chris. He’s not the type to hold a grudge over something minor. Besides, if he doesn’t want the money, why should it matter to you?”

“Because, well, it’s my responsibility.” Her cheeks were growing pinker. “Chris is my brother. My dad left it to me to set things right.”

That seemed like a pretty big burden for one person. Sam’s jaw clenched, but he reminded himself Dana’s family dynamics were none of his business. Still, his sympathies were with Chris. “Why you? If he really wanted to patch up things with Chris, he could have come himself, not sent you after he died. It seems to me he took the coward’s way out.”

She narrowed her eyes and sat up straighter. “You didn’t even know him.”

“You’re right.” Sam held up his hand. “I’m sorry. I mean no disrespect. I’m sure your father was a fine man.”

She raised her chin. “He was.”

“I believe you. He raised my best friend, so he can’t be all bad.”

The corners of her bow-shaped mouth quirked upward. “Your best friend, huh?”

“Absolutely. Chris is the closest thing I have to a brother.”

She gave a little laugh. “So, if my brother is like your brother, does that make me your sister?”

The idea of Dana as a sister didn’t appeal to Sam. Maybe it was because of the way her eyes softened when she talked about Alaska. Or because of that cute mouth of hers that seemed to naturally curve into the shape of a kiss. Not that he had any intention of following through on any impulse to kiss Chris’s sister. That would be a bad idea for so many reasons. Although he couldn’t think of any at that precise moment.

Instead of answering, he rose and carried his dishes to the sink. “That was a wonderful meal, Dana. Since you cooked, I’ll clean up.” He glanced out the living room window at the mountains. “Then what do you say we get outside? It’s an exceptionally beautiful day. Would you like to go kayaking?”

“Kayaking?”

“You can use Chris’s boat. He won’t mind.”

“I’ve never been kayaking.” Her voice sounded doubtful, but her eyes sparkled.

“They’re small lake kayaks. It’s easy. Go change into some pants or shorts while I take care of the dishes and then we’ll go.”

She caught the edge of her lip between her teeth. “You don’t have to entertain me. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m going kayaking. You can come or not. It doesn’t matter to me.” But to his surprise, it did. He needed to get outside, to loosen up the kinks, but he didn’t want to just leave her alone. Besides, he wanted to show her his favorite lake, a jewel of nature tucked away in a city neighborhood.

Her face cleared. “Okay, if you’re sure. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Go get ready.” Sam smiled to himself as he loaded the bowls into the dishwasher. The sun was shining and he was going kayaking. It was good to be home.

* * *

SAM HAD PULLED his truck from the garage and loaded two plastic boats onto the roof rack by the time Dana got changed. She climbed into the truck, and he backed out of the driveway. When they reached the speed bump, Sam slowed but still had to grab his coffee cup before it spilled. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “Reynolds.”

“Who’s Reynolds?”

Sam grimaced. “Martin Reynolds. City assemblyman. He lives at the back of this neighborhood.” They reached the corner of the cul-de-sac and Sam stopped, waiting for a car to pass. “The couple in that house—” he nodded toward the corner lot “—were concerned that people drove too fast through the neighborhood, so they complained to Reynolds. He got a speed bump installed, but instead of putting it on the main street, where there’s actually a problem, he put it in the middle of our cul-de-sac. That way he wouldn’t have to go over it on his way home.”

Dana laughed. “Your government in action.”

“Exactly.”

He drove from the neighborhood and down a couple of main streets before turning into another neighborhood and pulling into a parking lot near a playground. Only then did Dana notice the small lake behind a row of town houses. Still water reflected the mixed greens of spruce and birch around most of the perimeter, except for a grassy area at one end with a dock.

It only took seconds before Sam was out of the truck, reaching up to remove a kayak from the roof rack. Dana tried to help, but she couldn’t reach that high. Sam lifted the second one down and then effortlessly picked up a boat in each hand and started toward the dock.

Dana followed. “I can carry one.”

“I’ve got them. If you want to grab the paddles and the PFDs from the back, that would help.”

“PFD?”

“Personal Flotation Device. Life jackets.”

“Oh.” She gathered the equipment and hurried after him. Before they got to the dock, they reached a low, muddy spot. Sam walked through it without hesitation, but Dana carefully picked her way around.

Sam dropped the boats on the dock and looked back to see her circling. Laugh lines gathered at the corners of his eyes. “A little mud won’t hurt you.”

Dana shrugged. “I should have worn my other sneakers.”

“I thought Kansas was farm country. Aren’t you used to mud?”

“I live in town. Streets, sidewalks, grass. Minimal mud.”

When they reached the dock, a group of mallards followed by rows of ducklings cut vees through the water, racing each other toward the dock.

Dana smiled at the fuzzy babies. “Cute. But they’re not very wild, are they?”

“No. City ducks. They’re used to people.” He dropped a boat into the water next to the dock with a splash. The ducks quacked in protest and swam farther away. Sam tied a rope from the boat to a post on the dock. “Put your life jacket on and I’ll help you in.”

Dana buckled the jacket in place, but it hung loose around her body. Sam shook his head. “You need to adjust the size. Unbuckle and turn around.” He tugged on something on the back of the life jacket and then reached around her to snap the buckles closed. His breath stirred the hair on top of her head.

He was close enough for her to detect the scent of his bodywash, mingling pleasantly with the underlying scent of man. She closed her eyes for a moment before she realized what she was doing and stepped away. “I can get it now. Thanks.”

He nodded, pulled on his own PFD and stepped closer to the edge of the dock. “Ready?”

“Sure.” The small boat didn’t look too intimidating. She put one foot into the well in the center and the kayak rocked. She would have fallen if Sam hadn’t grasped her arm.

“Easy.” He squatted down to hold the boat with his free hand without letting go. She managed to slide her legs forward into the boat until she settled in and he released her.

He handed her a two-bladed paddle, untied the boat from the dock and gave it a shove. She went scooting across the water, sending the ducks that had congregated in all directions. A breeze caught her and pushed her farther into the lake. “Wait. What do I do now?”

“Paddle.”

She dipped the end of the paddle into the water and her boat curved toward it, slowing her and eventually bringing her around so she was facing the dock just in time to watch Sam slide into his kayak in one easy motion.

As he pushed off from the dock and dipped his paddle into the water, his face changed. Happy lines formed at the corners of his dark eyes. He seemed relaxed, at home on the water. He worked the double-ended paddle with practiced ease.

He paddled closer and rotated his boat so he was next to her and facing the same direction. Once he showed her a couple of basic strokes, she found handling the kayak surprisingly simple. In no time, they were circling the lake, easing into the scalloped edges.

Sam pointed toward a tiny island across the water, covered with grass and a patch of purple irises. “There’s a loon’s nest. Don’t get too close.”

Dana stopped and held up her hand to shade her eyes. Sure enough, she could make out a black-headed bird, with an intricate pattern of black and white across its body and wings, nestled among the grass on the very edge of the island. “How did you spot it?”

“I saw the nest last year, so I was looking for it. Loons like to use the same nest again. Look. Here comes the male. Must be time for shift change.”

As they watched, another similar bird swam closer and rubbed bills with the bird on the nest. After a moment, the first bird wrenched herself off the nest and flopped awkwardly into the water. Once there, though, she was remarkably graceful. The other bird waddled onto the nest. He took a moment to arrange something with his long, pointed bill before settling down.

Sam resumed paddling and she followed him farther around the lake. On the shore, a fat robin watched them, a worm hanging from his mouth. He flew into a tree, greeted by a chorus of chirping from the baby birds in the nest. A sound carried across the water, a haunting three-note call. “What’s that? A coyote?”

Sam smiled and shook his head. “The loons. Look.” He pointed at a tall spruce with a dead top on the shore near the loon’s nest. A huge bird with a white head perched there.

“Is that an eagle?”

“Yes. The loon is calling her mate to warn him.”

A moment later, the eagle spread his wings and lifted off, soaring into the sky. Dana gasped at the sight. “Beautiful.”

“I know.”

She watched Sam’s face. “You love this, don’t you?”

“What?”

“This place. Alaska.”

A slow smile stretched across his face. “It’s home.”

“It must be hard to leave for so long at a time.”

He shrugged. “That’s my job.” He paddled forward. She watched him for a moment as he pulled away, how his arms flexed under his shirt, the confident way he handled the small boat.

What would drive someone to leave a home he loved for such long stretches? Did he have family? Dana had only been gone a day when her mother started calling. Didn’t Sam have anyone who counted on him?

Dana gave herself a little shake. Sam’s personal life wasn’t any of her business. She was here to follow up on Dad’s estate, not to make a friend. It was nice of Sam to include her on this outing, but she needed to focus on her goal and then get back to Kansas, to her life. She picked up her paddle and propelled herself across the sparkling water. Maybe Chris would be back from his fishing trip tonight.

Sam narrowed his eyes at something over at the shoreline. “Wait here a minute.”

Dana watched as he worked his kayak through a tangle of vegetation to a place where a spruce tree leaned over the water, casting a shadow. He eased up to the bank, his movements almost languid and yet precise. He parted some weeds and something flashed green. His hand reached in to extract a fishing lure attached to a snarl of line, which he tucked in his kayak before paddling back to her.

“How did you know that was there?”

He shrugged. “It caught the light. Wouldn’t want the ducks getting tangled up.”

They paddled around the lake for another half hour before Sam led her back to the dock. Her shoulders ached from the unaccustomed exercise, but the sense of peace she felt after her time on the lake made up for it.

Sam climbed up on the dock and tied his boat to a post. Dana paddled alongside and he reached for her hand. She felt a moment of panic as the boat rocked while she tried to climb out, but he just smiled and pulled her onto the dock.

He lifted her boat from the water. “You did well for your first time in a kayak. Did you have fun?”

“I loved it. I’ve never seen a loon or a bald eagle before.”

Sam removed the mess of tangled fishing line from his kayak and deposited it into a garbage receptacle near the dock. “Whenever I get back from a rotation, I come here. I like to see the ducks growing up, the seasons changing.”

“It’s a special place. Thanks for bringing me along today.”

He flashed her a smile. “Anytime.”


CHAPTER THREE (#u2302ccff-f300-50f9-b87b-1a2defd6d4e7)

THE NEXT MORNING, Sam checked his watch as he hurried across the office parking lot. He was barely going to make the meeting on time. Ordinarily he came in early to prepare, but Dana cooked him French toast for breakfast and it would have been rude not to eat it. Then he got caught up in a conversation advising her what sights she might want to see in Anchorage. Before he knew it, he’d lingered too long.

He smiled to himself. Having a houseguest wasn’t turning out to be nearly as much of a bother as he’d feared. On the contrary, he’d thoroughly enjoyed kayaking with Dana yesterday, watching those eyes of hers light up when she saw the loons and the eagle. And the fact that she kept cooking for him didn’t hurt. It was tempting to play hooky today and go be a tourist with her instead. But he resisted.

He pushed through the glass doors leading to the office atrium and started toward the secured area near the elevators. He’d sent in his reports, so technically he didn’t have to attend the meeting during his days off, but his boss, Ethan, liked to have him there for questions. Besides, face time with the bigwigs was always a good career move.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you have a badge?” An unfamiliar man stepped from behind the security desk and blocked his way. His short hair and determined stance marked him as ex-military. Must be a new guy.

“Yeah.” Sam reached for his shirt pocket, but the ID badge wasn’t clipped on as usual. He patted the pockets of his pants. “Darn. I must have left it in the car. I’ll go get it.”

“Sam, you’re here. Good.” Ethan slapped his shoulder. “On your way up?”

“Yes, I just need to go get my badge from the car.”

“No need for that. Jake, Sam is one of our best engineers. He works a rotation in Russia, so you might not have met him before. He’s with me.”

“Yes, sir.” The security guard almost saluted before returning to his desk. Ethan swiped his badge and Sam followed him to the elevators.

Ethan pushed the button for the top floor. “I hope you have good news for us.”

Sam nodded. “It’s coming along. Slowly.”

“But you’re making progress?”

“Yes. We got the number fourteen spudded, finally. It’s not like Prudhoe Bay. Everything takes at least twice as long.”

“Hard to work with those guys?”

“That’s not it. They’re excellent engineers. It’s logistics. The equipment is old and not easy to come by, and there’s so much red tape.”

“Any problem with the language barrier?”

Sam grinned. “Haven’t you heard? Everybody in the world understands English if you speak it slowly and clearly enough. Seriously, I have a great assistant who speaks four languages. Puts me to shame.” His assistant was also convinced Sam might be a long-lost relative, but that was another story. “It’s just frustrating to plod through the bureaucracy.”

“Well, keep it up a little longer. I can’t tell you about it yet, but there might be an exciting opportunity opening up before long. Are you married, Sam?”

“No.” Sam’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Maybe this was the break he was looking for, a step closer to upper management.

“Engaged, committed, whatever?”

“No, none of those things.”

“So whenever we need you to travel, you’re free to go?”

“I am.”

“Good.” Ethan nodded in satisfaction. “Just keep that passport current, okay?”

“I will.” The elevator opened and they walked down the hallway to the conference room. He knew Ethan well enough to recognize the futility of asking for more information, but that passport comment sounded like another overseas assignment. While Sam would have welcomed a job in Alaska, everyone said overseas was the way to move up in the company, and Sam fully intended to move up. No matter what it took.

* * *

DANA DROPPED BY the log cabin visitor’s center downtown and picked up a few tips for sights to see in Anchorage from the friendly woman behind the desk. But after stepping outside into the sunshine, Dana ignored her suggestions of shopping and museums and instead took Sam’s advice to grab a reindeer dog from the stand in front of the courthouse and hike along the coastal trail.

Most of the people in line for hot dogs seemed to be locals on their lunch breaks. She collected her hot dog with onions and peppers and strolled along the street, pausing under an enormous hanging basket of blue and gold flowers as she took the first bite. Sam wasn’t kidding—it was one of the best hot dogs she’d ever eaten. She found a bench and stopped to savor her lunch.

Once she’d finished, Dana started walking. Past the courthouse and down the hill, a blue Alaska train pulled into the depot. Not far beyond, fishermen lined up along a creek. As she watched, a woman’s pole pulled into an arc. A man nearby brought a net and helped her land a salmon. She did a little happy dance and hugged him. All this practically in the shadow of twenty-story buildings downtown.

The coastal trail overlooked the ocean, as promised, but it wound through forest and behind homes with bloom-filled gardens along the way. Across the inlet, a row of mountains rose from shaggy spruce trees, parallel to the range that stretched behind the town. Dog walkers, bicyclists and skaters shared the trail, and she saw geese, ducks, seagulls and possibly a ptarmigan. At least it looked like the picture of the state bird on the pamphlet she’d picked up. The short walk Dana planned extended on until she realized if she didn’t head back, it would be evening before she made it to her car. Green and gorgeous. She could see why Chris had remained here all these years. But it didn’t explain why he never contacted her or why he changed his name.

Ahead of her, a couple strolled along the pathway, holding hands. A puppy trotted along beside them on a leash. When the woman turned to point at a cluster of wildflowers, Dana saw that she was pregnant. Her husband smiled at her and touched her back as he listened to what she was saying. They looked happy.

Dana smiled at them as she walked by. She used to wish for a husband and children and a waggly tailed dog, a normal family that ate dinner together and played board games and talked. But it didn’t happen. A few boyfriends came and went, but never anyone she could see making a life with. Not that she spent a lot of time worrying about it. Between working for her dad and watching after her mother, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to cry over might-have-beens. Although, sometimes she wondered what it would have been like if Chris hadn’t gone away.

Maybe he’d be back tonight. Surely, once she’d explained the whole situation to him, Chris would agree to accept his place in the family. It wasn’t as if she was demanding much from him. She just wanted the truth. After that, she would look for this Petrov person. Her father was an honorable man. He wouldn’t want any unpaid debts lingering. Once she’d determined whether or not that claim had any validity, she could head home and get on with her life.

At least one good thing came of Dad making Jerry manager. Now that Dana had quit her job at the equipment and tool rental, she was free to follow her original plan to teach. She loved teaching, loved watching the kids’ eyes light up when they grasped a concept. She’d have to do a semester or two to get her credentials up to speed first, though, so her inheritance would come in handy in the meantime.

Once she had her teaching certificate, she could find a job at the high school in her hometown. And, of course, do her other job of making sure her mother’s house didn’t become so packed with junk as to become dangerous. When Dad was alive, he’d insisted all Mom’s stuff had to hide in the spare bedrooms or in the basement. The living room, kitchen and garage were off-limits as storage areas. But over the last month or two, Dana had been seeing an ominous number of bags and boxes starting to gather in the main rooms, faster than she could return them.

She shook her head. One problem at a time. First Chris. Then this Petrov guy. Once all that was straight, she could worry about her mother.

On her way back to the car, Dana strolled through the flower gardens in the town square. She loved flowers. Her yard in Kansas overflowed with perennials like coneflowers, irises and yarrow, but they seemed understated compared to the vivid flowers here. Who would have thought they’d bloom so well this far north? Dahlias as big as her head sprung up behind colorful clusters of snapdragons, edged with some sort of flowering cabbage and carpets of tiny blue flowers.

The people downtown seemed to be an interesting combination of tourists, office workers and shoppers. They all looked purposeful and happy. Did any of them have crazy mothers and uncooperative runaway brothers? Or was that just her?

She shrugged. It was a beautiful day. She couldn’t do anything until Chris came back, anyway, so she might as well put it out of her mind and enjoy her time in Anchorage. She pulled out her phone to snap a selfie in front of the fountain surrounded with magenta geraniums. Someday she might want it to remember the time she went to Alaska.

* * *

SAM TRANSFERRED A load of clothes from the washer to the dryer. The house was oddly silent without Chris or Kimmik rummaging around. It didn’t usually bother Sam to be alone, but for some reason, today was different. It was after five. Wonder where Dana had gotten to? Hopefully she wasn’t lost or anything.

He frowned. Dana wasn’t helpless. In fact, two days ago, she’d threatened to shoot him. It was highly unlikely she’d come to any harm on a nice day downtown, surrounded by people. And yet here he was, worrying about her. Maybe Chris was right—Sam hadn’t been out with a woman for too long. He needed to get a grip.

He was pulling the warm clothes from the dryer when he heard the garage door opening. He carried the basket upstairs, reaching the living room just as Dana bounced into the kitchen. Her bright smile assured him his worries were groundless.

“Hi. How was your meeting?” She reached into the basket and started folding a towel as if folding clothes together was something they did every day.

“Fine. How was your day?” He pulled a pair of jeans from the basket.

“Great. You were right. I loved the coastal trail and the hot dog was excellent.” She set down the towel and reached for what had once been a white T-shirt but was now faintly gray. “You really shouldn’t wash darks and lights together.”

Sam shrugged. “Probably not, but I just want to get it done. I hate laundry.”

“Really?” She smoothed the T and folded it into a neat square. “I like folding laundry.” She held up the shirt and sniffed. “I may be mildly addicted to the smell of dryer sheets.”

Sam couldn’t help a little smile. Dana chattered on about the wildlife and scenery she’d seen during her hike as they worked, and before he knew it, the entire load lay neatly stacked in the basket. He had to admit, folding laundry wasn’t nearly as boring with good company.

“Thanks. So, how about dinner at Moose’s Tooth?”

“Moose’s Tooth? What’s that?”

“A mountain.” He grinned. “More importantly, a pizza brewpub named after the mountain.”

“Sounds great.”

* * *

AS USUAL, MOOSE’S TOOTH had a long line of folks waiting for a table, so he and Dana sat at the bar temporarily. The waiter gave Sam a calculating look before he delivered their drink orders. Dana took a sip of her raspberry wheat microbrew. “Nice.” She set the glass down and leaned forward. “So, tell me what you do in Siberia.”

“I supervise a drilling program.”

“Okay, but what does that mean?”

Sam tried to explain the job as briefly as possible, but she kept asking questions and he found himself telling her more details about his work than he’d ever told anyone. When a table finally opened up for them, he realized he’d been doing all the talking.

“Sorry. I usually don’t monopolize the conversation like this. I’m sure I’m boring you.”

“No, you’re not. I had no idea how much engineering went into drilling oil wells. What happens after the well test?”

“If it’s good, we put the well on production. If not, we try to figure out why and fix it. But that’s enough about my work. Tell me what you do.”

“I worked in the office for my dad’s business, an equipment and tool rental company.”

“Worked?”

She shrugged. “I don’t work there anymore. I have my degree in math, as a teacher. I really loved being in the classroom during my student teaching, but Dad wanted me in the business, so I did that instead. It was okay, but I plan to teach now.”

So, her father insisted on choosing her career. Controlling. Maybe that’s what drove Chris away. The waiter came to take their order. “Another beer?”

Dana shook her head. “I’m still on this one.”

“I’ll have a root beer.” Once the waiter left, Sam turned back to Dana. “So, do you have a teaching job lined up?”

She gave a little head shake. “I’ll need to take some courses to get recertified. But tell me more about Alaska. Did you grow up in Anchorage?”

Sam nodded. “I was born in Fairbanks, but we moved here when I was in elementary school.”

“What is Fairbanks like?”

“Smaller than Anchorage. Inland, on the Chena River, so warmer in summer, much colder in the winter. I went to the University of Alaska there.”

“Is it as green as Anchorage?”

“It’s nice, at least when the temperature’s above zero. Lots of cottonwoods growing along the river. It looks like a summer snow there sometimes when the trees are shedding.”

“We have cottonwoods in Kansas, too, but it’s not this green and rugged. You’re so lucky to be a Native Alaskan.”

“I am, although, it comes with its own set of challenges. Sometimes people make assumptions.”

“Challenges.” She looked puzzled, but then her eyes widened. “Oh, because you’re Native American... I only meant you were born in Alaska.”

“Oh.” Sam looked down at the table. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. So you’re an Alaska Native?”

“One-quarter Inupiat.” At her blank expression, he grinned. “Eskimo.”

“Eskimo, really?” A slow smile spread across her face. “I think that’s pretty cool. Do you have a lot of special traditions or food or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not me, personally. It was on my dad’s side and I never knew him. My mom wasn’t Native, so I don’t know much about it.”

The waiter returned with his root beer. He noticed Dana looking at it thoughtfully. Fine. She might as well know up front he limited himself to one alcoholic drink a day. Living with his mother’s alcoholism had prompted him to set strict boundaries for himself.

“I get that about people’s assumptions.” Dana sighed. “Some of the people I worked with assumed the boss’s daughter was just doing some make-work job and didn’t know anything about the business. When Dad got sick, I noticed the manager wasn’t keeping the parts inventory up-to-date, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I had to have Dad call him to get him moving.”

“That must have been frustrating. At least in my job I have the authority to get things done.” Sam took a swig of his root beer. How did the conversation get so personal? He never whined like this. Time to lighten up.

He smiled at Dana. “So, I’ve never been to Kansas. What’s it like there?”

She told him about the town where she lived, mostly funny stories about her and Chris growing up together. It sounded like a television-worthy childhood, growing up in an old Victorian home with a big lawn.

“It was about ninety-five that day, and Chris decided he didn’t want to mow the grass. He tied a rope onto a tree in the yard and hitched up the lawn mower to it. Then he strapped the levers down and went in the house for a drink while the lawn mowed itself. His theory was that the rope would wind around the tree getting shorter at each pass until it reached the tree, and he would just have to do the edges.”

From the twinkle in her eyes, Sam could see disaster written all over this story. “So what happened?”

“Somehow, the mower ran over the rope and cut it. By the time Chris came outside to check on it, it was halfway down the block and had mowed through six neighbors’ flower beds. He was grounded for a month.”

Sam laughed. “I’m guessing he wasn’t too popular with the neighbors, either.”

“Not so much.”

The Thai chicken pizza arrived. Dana told him a few more stories while they ate. It was obvious she’d adored her older brother when they were growing up. What could have gone so wrong with his father that Chris would completely abandon his life and his sister? Sam had never pried into Chris’s previous life, but he was starting to wish he had. If he’d been lucky enough to have a sister, he couldn’t imagine leaving her behind.

A familiar face appeared behind Dana’s shoulder. Marge Hansen, Ursula’s closest neighbor and best friend. She waved and came over to their table. “Hello, Sam.”

“Hi, Marge. Dana, this is Marge Hansen. Marge, you remember my roommate, Chris? This is his sister, Dana Allen.”

“Of course I remember Chris. The two of you thawed my pipes when we had that early cold snap winter before last. I’m glad to meet you, Dana.”

“You, too. Actually, I’m Dana Raynott.” Sam blinked. Did he hear correctly? Dana extended her hand and smiled at Marge. They chatted for a few minutes, fortunately not noticing that Sam had lapsed into stunned silence.

Marge turned back to Sam. “Goodbye, Sam. I’ll tell your auntie I saw you.”

Once Marge left, Dana turned back and helped herself to another slice of pizza. “She seems nice.”

“Your last name is Raynott?” Sam had to be sure.

“Yes.” She raised her eyebrows at his tone.

“R-A-Y-N-O-T-T?”

“Right.”

“But you’re Chris’s sister. His name is Allen.” He knew he sounded like a simpleton, but he couldn’t seem to grasp what was happening.

“Allen was Chris’s middle name. Apparently, he changed it legally somewhere along the way. I don’t know why.”

“So Chris was a Raynott, too?”

She laughed. “Yeah. Why is that so unbelievable?”

“It’s an unusual name.”

“I know. I’ve never met anyone else with the same name. Why? Do you know another Raynott?”

Sam shook his head. “No. Just caught me by surprise, I guess. So tell me the rest of the story about Chris’s football career.”

Dana laughed. “It was over in the fifth grade. The first day of practice, Chris played receiver. He caught the ball, but when he turned around this two-hundred-pound twelve-year-old caught him and...”

Sam nodded and smiled in all the right places, but his head was spinning. Raynott. There had to be a connection. But he’d known Chris for years and years. If anyone had asked him yesterday, he’d have said he would trust Chris with his life. And all that time, Chris had never let on that he was one of the dreaded Raynotts. It couldn’t be an accident.

Dana kept chatting away. Whatever the big secret was, he’d lay odds she wasn’t in on it. Her panic when he arrived in the middle of the night was no act, and she was perfectly straightforward when she introduced herself to Marge. No, Dana didn’t know. But once Chris got home, he was going to have some major explaining to do.

She trailed off as she finished the story. “Sam, is everything all right?”

“Huh? Oh, fine. Sorry. I was just thinking of something I need to check into.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

“I don’t think so, but thank you.” He smiled. “So, are you ready to go?”

“Sure, I guess so.” She set the half-eaten slice of pizza back onto her plate. “We can get a to-go box for the rest.”

“Okay.” Sam signaled the waiter for the check. He knew he was being rude, rushing her out of there before she’d even had time to finish, but he needed to get home, where he could be alone and think.

Raynott, the name his mother used to curse, the name on the check she’d torn to shreds. Who were these Raynotts and what did they have to do with his mother? And with him?


CHAPTER FOUR (#u2302ccff-f300-50f9-b87b-1a2defd6d4e7)

DANA SLID A muffin tin into the hot oven. She’d picked up the pan, as well as the ingredients, yesterday on the way back from hiking. Blueberry muffins used to be Chris’s favorite breakfast, and she’d hoped to surprise him this morning, to put him in a good mood and get him talking. But Chris still wasn’t back from his fishing trip. Hopefully Sam would enjoy the muffins.

What was up with him? Last night, they’d been having a great time. He obviously loved his job, and she found it fascinating to listen to him talk about how he did it. It would be wonderful to have a job she could feel passionate about like that. He seemed to enjoy her stories about Chris growing up. But at the end of the evening, Sam had suddenly withdrawn into himself, and she had no idea why.

Not that it was really any of her business. She needed to remember she was in Alaska to get the answers she needed, not for a vacation. Her phone beeped and she found a text from Ginny. When r u coming home?

A problem with Mom? Dana bit her lip and typed a reply. Not sure. Still working.

OK. Will handle. Handle what? Dana found she really didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, either Ginny would take care of it or Dana would deal with it when she got home. She had enough on her plate here. Which reminded her—she needed to call the women’s shelter where she volunteered.

“Hi, Jane. It’s Dana. How are things there?”

“Not bad. We got in a new family with three kids in elementary school who could probably use your help.”

“Ooh, sorry. I was actually calling to let you know I’m out of town and won’t make it in for tutoring next week and possibly the week after.”

“That’s too bad, but I’m sure Melinda and I can muddle through. Good thing we don’t have any kids in high school right now because I’ve forgotten everything I ever knew about algebra.”

“Maybe you can sit in on my next lesson. I’ll let you know when I get home. Bye, Jane.” Dana smiled as she hung up the phone. She loved tutoring the kids at the shelter. So many of them thought they hated math, but really they were just struggling with some basic concept. A little individual attention did wonders for their confidence.

While she had her phone out, she checked her voice mail. A message from the lawyers asked if she’d located Chris and gotten his signature. She called and left a message of her own.

“Hi, it’s Dana Raynott. I got your message. I did locate Chris, but he’s temporarily away from home. I expect him back anytime now, and I will certainly get that signature and send it to you ASAP. Then I’ll concentrate on locating that other party.” She ended the call. The lawyers didn’t seem too worried, but she wouldn’t feel right if she didn’t at least try to locate this Petrov guy and check out his story.

“Did I hear you say Chris would be back soon?”

Dana jumped at Sam’s voice and turned. “Oh, hi. I didn’t realize you were up. I was just leaving a message with the lawyers. They were checking up on my progress.”

“You know he’s fishing, right?”

Dana nodded. “Yes, but I expected him to be home by now. How long does it take to catch a fish?”

He gave her an odd look. “Chris is a commercial fisherman. He’s on a shrimp trawler. They won’t be back to shore until they fill the hold or the season ends. It might be a few weeks.”

“Weeks?” Dana’s voice squeaked.

“I thought you knew.”

“Chris just said he was going fishing. I didn’t realize...” A commercial fisherman? Okay, he had a job, which explained how he paid for the sports car in the garage. That was a good thing, she supposed, but now what? She shook her head. “Do you have his cell number?”

Sam smirked. “There are no cell towers in the middle of the ocean.”

“No, I guess there wouldn’t be.” This whole plan was falling apart. She looked up at Sam. “There’s really no way to reach him?”

“There’s ship-to-shore radio for emergencies. Is this an emergency?”

Maybe. Well, no. She could call from Kansas if she had to, but she wanted to talk with him face-to-face. “I guess not.” Okay. New plan. “How long is he usually gone for?”

Sam shrugged. “Depends. I believe the season closes in mid-August, but I doubt they’ll be out for more than a month, sooner if they’re having a good catch. Once they fill the hold, they’ll come to shore to unload and refuel, and Chris will probably check in and maybe stop by for a day.”

One month. Plus however long it took to convince Chris to see it her way. She would probably get better results face-to-face than on the phone. Ginny could handle her mother in the meantime. She hoped. “I’ll wait for him.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to wait for Chris? Here?”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about where she would wait. “No, of course not. I’ll get a hotel.”

“That’s not what I meant. You can stay here as long as you want. I just thought you’d need to get back to Kansas. I can call you if Chris shows up.”

She shook her head. “This is more important. I don’t want to take a chance on missing him. Besides, I have another task about my dad’s estate to handle in the meantime.” The timer went off and she pulled the muffins from the oven, all the while preparing a mental checklist of items to accomplish. “But I will find a hotel or something. You never signed on to have me here for a few days, much less a month.”

“I don’t want you to move out.” His declaration sounded surprisingly firm.

She cocked her head and studied his face. “I can’t keep imposing on you. You don’t even know me.”

His shoulders twitched. “You’re Chris’s sister. I want you to stay.” He eyed the pan cooling on the counter and the corners of his mouth tugged upward. “Assuming, of course, that you’re going to offer me one of those muffins.”

Dana laughed. “You can have all the muffins you want.” She pulled out a plate, plopped a warm muffin on top and set it on the counter in front of him.

“Then I believe we have a deal.” Sam poured himself a cup of coffee and settled at the bar. He broke off a bit of steaming muffin and popped it in his mouth. “Delicious.” He took a sip of coffee and eyed her. “So, what’s this other task you need to handle?”

“It’s possible my dad owed money to someone, and I want to check it out before they settle the estate. I need to get into public records in Fairbanks. Are they online, do you think?”

“Probably. Although I don’t know how far back they would go.”

“I’ll find out.” Dana dried the batter bowl and utensils and put them into the kitchen cabinets. “I brought my laptop.”

Sam nodded. “The password for Wi-Fi is in the top drawer of the desk in your room. Good luck.”

* * *

SAM SPENT THE morning going through his mail and generally catching up. Dana had disappeared into her bedroom right after breakfast and he hadn’t seen her since. Was he crazy, inviting a Raynott to stay in his house? Apparently, he’d been living with one for years and never knew it.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe the Raynott his mother blamed for everything bad that had happened to them wasn’t related to Chris and Dana. Yeah, right. Sure, it was just a coincidence that his best friend happened to have been born with the same unusual name as this person his mother hated. The whole situation was fishy, and while Dana sure didn’t seem like the type to be running some sort of scam, the whole point of a con was to appear trustworthy. Still, he couldn’t see what she had to gain by hanging around him.

Just out of curiosity, Sam did an internet search on his phone for Raynott. Dana had a couple of mentions in fund-raising articles for a women’s shelter. A business article about a chain of equipment and tool rental stores mentioned a Wayne Raynott as owner. And a newspaper in Kansas showed an obituary for Wayne Raynott from three months ago. That was all he found.

Wayne Raynott. Sam couldn’t be positive, but he was fairly certain that had been the name on the check his mother tore up. And now Dana was here in Alaska, trying to talk Chris into taking an inheritance and looking for some mysterious person her father owed money to. He couldn’t see the whole picture yet, but he was starting to collect a big stack of puzzle pieces.

His phone rang. Ursula. He smiled. “How’s it going, Auntie?”

“It would be better if a certain someone would check in with me like he’s supposed to when he gets in from his rotation.”

He settled on the barstool. “Sorry about that. I only got home on Wednesday and I’ve been a little busy.”

“So Marge tells me. Gallivanting around town with your pretty new girlfriend instead of calling your auntie Ursula. Tsk-tsk.” Laughter bubbled through her words.

Ursula was worse than Chris. Chris just thought Sam needed some female company. Ursula was determined he needed a wife. Better shut her down before she started making wedding plans. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Chris’s sister.”

“Really?” She paused. “I didn’t know Chris had a sister.”

“I didn’t, either.”

“He didn’t mention her when he came by to drop off the dog.”

“Odd, huh?”

“You’ve been roommates for years. What does he have to say about this?”

“So far, nothing. He went out fishing and left her here. I haven’t talked with him since I got home.”

“Huh. Well, bring her along for the weekend. I had a cancellation.”

“This weekend?”

“That’s right. I need you to make me a new gate on the vegetable garden. A moose smashed it. You can come down this afternoon.”

“You want me to build a gate?”

“That’s right, Mr. Landlord.”

“Why didn’t you just call a carpenter?”

“There’s no need to waste money on something you can do yourself. Didn’t Tommy teach you anything? Surely someone with a fancy engineering degree can build a gate.” Tommy, Ursula’s husband, had been a gifted handyman and a patient teacher to twelve-year-old Sam after he moved in with them. And yes, he could probably build a gate. “Besides, this dog of yours is eating me out of house and home.”

Not likely. “Didn’t Chris bring his dog food?”

“Kimmik prefers real food.”

Sam was sure he did. “Dog food is better for him.”

“Well, then, get over here and pick him up, and you can feed him however you see fit. And bring Chris’s sister along. I want to meet her.”

Not a bad idea, actually. Ursula had good instincts about people. He’d like her read on Dana. “I’ll see. She’s working on some things of her own.”

“It’s the weekend. Tell her all work and no play will give her wrinkles.”

Sam laughed. “Says the woman who never sits down.”

“It’s not work if you love it. I’ll make chili for dinner. Don’t be late.”

Sam smiled as he pocketed the phone. Ursula and Tommy were the best things that ever happened to him. Now he just needed to check out the internet for gate designs.

Sam knocked on the open door of Dana’s room and stuck his head in. “Sorry to bother you, but I need to get my laptop from the drawer there.”

“Sure.” She got up from her chair at the desk and stretched.

He extracted the computer. “Having any luck?”

She shook her head. “I can’t seem to find anything except current property tax records. I think I’m going to have to drive to Fairbanks. How long does it take to get there?”

“About six hours.”

“So if I leave after lunch today, I could get there by sundown.”

“No problem.” Sam grinned. “Sundown is after midnight in Fairbanks this time of year. But today is Friday. Government offices won’t be open until Monday.”

Her shoulders sagged. “That’s right. I lost track of the days. So, no Chris and no public records.”

“I do have an alternative plan for the weekend. I have to go repair a gate for my auntie Ursula. She runs a B and B down on the Kenai Peninsula. You could come along.”

Her face brightened, but then she frowned. “Does she have room for an extra person?”

“She had a cancellation, so yes.”

“I’d like that.” She studied his hands as if taking his measure. “You know about carpentry?”

“Not as much as Ursula thinks I do. That’s why I need my laptop. To bone up. You can come along and laugh at me. You game?”

Dana grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

DANA GAZED ACROSS the water, the glassy surface reflecting the snowcapped mountains on the other side of the arm. She was happy to gawk while Sam did the driving, his truck winding along the road, hugging cliffs on one side and the ocean on the other. “So beautiful. Does the snow stay all year?”

“It will gradually melt, all but a few shady spots. It’s already gone on the south-facing slopes.”

They passed a small waterfall spilling from the rock on the left side of the road and trickling underneath to the ocean. “What ocean is this?”

“This is Turnagain Arm, on Cook Inlet, on the Gulf of Alaska, on the Pacific Ocean.”

“Turnagain? Odd name.”

“It was named by Captain Bligh, Captain Cook’s sailing master. They were exploring Cook Inlet and looking for the Northwest Passage. They followed Knik Arm first, but reached a dead end and turned back. Then they followed this arm, and when they found it was also a dead end, the captain ordered the ship to turn again.”

“Makes sense. Captain Bligh.” Dana thought for a moment. “Why do I know that name?”

“Did you ever see the movie Mutiny on the Bounty? That was Captain Bligh.”

“Yes, I watched that movie on TV once. I thought it was fiction.”

“Nope, it was a real incident and Captain Bligh was a real person.”

“Not a very nice person, if the movie was any indication.”

Sam laughed. “Aren’t you glad you don’t work under him?”

“I am. The last boss I had was bad enough.” Dana continued to watch the water. A seagull swooped down and snatched something from the surface. Eventually, the road left the shoreline and began to climb. They passed through birch and spruce forests until they reached a fork in the highway.

Sam went left. “We’ll be at Ursula’s in another ten minutes or so.”

Dana suddenly felt shy, wondering if she should have tagged along on a family visit. She pictured a fussy old lady with a houseful of doilies and knickknacks. Or maybe it was a family business. “Will you have cousins, too, or is it only your aunt?”

Sam didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained on the road. Dana was about to repeat the question when he spoke. “Ursula doesn’t have any kids.” He paused. “And she isn’t really my aunt.”

“Family friend?”

“More than that. If it weren’t for Ursula and her husband, Tommy...well, I don’t know what I’d be, but it wouldn’t be who I am today. They took me in when I was twelve and raised me.”

“What happened to your mother?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Wow. She hadn’t seen that coming. Dana started to ask for more information, but something in his closed expression stopped her. Instead, she just nodded.

A few minutes later, they pulled into a graveled parking area in front of a tall cedar building. A scent of smoke and fish greeted Dana when she climbed out of the truck. Sam came around to stand beside her and took a deep breath. A smile crossed his face. “Ursula must have been fishing.”

A familiar brown dog rushed up to Sam, wagging his whole rear end. Sam crouched down and fondled the dog’s ears. “That’s a good dog. Did you miss me?”

The dog pressed his body against Sam but scooted closer so he could rub his head against Dana’s jeans, obviously inviting more affection. She stroked along his broad crown. “Hi, Kimmik.”

Sam looked up at her. “You know Kimmik?”

“We met, briefly. How did he get his name?”

“Kimmik is an Inupiat word.”

“What does it mean?”

Sam grinned. “Dog.”

Dana laughed. “Original.”

“So here’s the prodigal son. Did you get lumber?” A woman with cropped gray hair emerged from an opening in a fenced area beside the house. She carried a basket on her arm. A smile of delight lit up her face.

“I did.” Sam held out his arms and the woman wrapped him in a big hug, the basket of greens bumping against his back. Seeing the obvious affection between Sam and Ursula, Dana felt almost jealous. Neither of her parents had ever greeted her with such enthusiasm.

“Good boy.” She reached up to run her hand over his jaw as if inspecting him. “Tommy would never have believed you’d grow up to be so tall. I guess I fed you well.” She turned a smiling face toward Dana. “And you must be Chris’s sister.”

“Yes. I’m Dana.”

“Welcome.” Dana got a friendly hug, too, if not quite as exuberant as the one Ursula gave Sam. Ursula looked her over. “You don’t look much like your brother.”

“No. I take after my mother, and Chris—well, I don’t know who Chris takes after. Must be a recessive Viking gene or something.”

Ursula smiled. “Well, any sister of Chris’s is a friend of mine.”

“You know Chris well?”

“Oh, yes. He stops by to see me every time he’s up or back.” She changed her voice to a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he really comes for the scones.”

Dana laughed. “He does have a sweet tooth.”

Sam took a deep breath. “I smell fish smoking. Did you get some reds?”

Ursula smiled. “A king.”

“How big?”

“Twenty-two pounds.”

“Excellent. When will it be ready?”

She chuckled. “Not until tomorrow. I have chili for tonight.”

“I suppose that will have to do.” From the laugh lines at the corners of Sam’s eyes, Dana suspected chili must be a favorite of his.

Ursula turned toward the building. “Well, come on in.”

While Sam grabbed their bags, Dana followed Ursula into the inn, Kimmik trailing behind them. They crossed a large deck and entered into a room with a soaring ceiling. A stone fireplace dominated the room along the back wall, with a chimney reaching up to the crown. Flanking the fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a spruce-covered mountain, even greener than the ones in Anchorage. Two stained glass inserts depicting small blue flowers were set high in the windows, tinting the light that fell on the wood floor.

Four dining tables of various sizes clustered at one end of the room. At the other end, comfortable chairs and sofas gathered in front of the fireplace. Two armchairs with table lamps snuggled in the corners, creating cozy reading nooks. Kimmik plopped down on a rug in front of the fireplace.

“This is gorgeous.” Dana turned to Ursula. “I love the windows.”

“Thank you. That’s why we call it the Forget-me-not Inn.”

Sam carried in the bags and kicked the door shut behind him. “Where do you want us?”

“The west wing. You can get to work on that gate first thing in the morning. We have three couples in the main bedrooms tonight. Try to keep your language within bounds.”

Sam laughed. “If you don’t want salty language, you shouldn’t draft me for building projects.”

“Watch it, buddy. You’re not too old to feed the curse jar.” She made a shooing motion. “Go put those bags away. Put Dana in Rose. Dana, would you like a tour?”

“I would love that.”

They started in the kitchen. The scent of meat, onions and chili wafted from a slow cooker. Ursula set the basket on the counter. “Lettuce thinnings for the salad tonight, along with chili and cornbread.”

“Yum.” Two ovens, a six-burner range and a commercial dishwasher identified the room as a working kitchen, but the baskets on the wall and crocks of utensils on the countertops gave it a homey feel. Behind the kitchen, a bookshelf-lined sitting room and cozy bedroom made up Ursula’s private quarters.

“I’ve already cleaned and made the beds, but come with me and I’ll show you the guest rooms.” Ursula handed her a jar of foil-covered candies. “You can help me with the mints.”

Continuing the wildflower theme, each room had a different blossom painted on the door. The furniture was simple but elegant, with soft duvets or patchwork quilts on all the beds. Not a doily in sight. At Ursula’s direction, Dana left a piece of candy on each nightstand.

Ursula led her back to the main room and to another hallway. “You’ll have the Wild Rose room and Sam is across the hall in Lupine. I’ll let you freshen up while I make tea. Today we have wild blueberry scones.”

Dana opened the painted door and walked into the room. A quilt in muted shades of rose, amber and green covered the bed. Through an open doorway, she could see a shower curtain with a large-scale print of wild roses framing a huge tub. A beveled mirror reflected sunshine from the window and projected a rainbow on the wall above the bed.

She reached into her suitcase for her toiletry kit. Pausing in front of the mirror, she brushed her hair and put on lip gloss before she hurried back to the gathering room. She wouldn’t want to be late for tea.

* * *

THAT EVENING, SAM and Dana sat with Ursula in front of the big fireplace. The three couples staying at the inn had turned in early after a full day of offshore fishing in Seward. Sam watched Dana struggling with a hook and a ball of yarn. Poor kid—she’d made the mistake of admiring Ursula’s crocheted afghans, not realizing it would lead to a crochet lesson.

Or maybe she did. She seemed to be trying to get it right. “So, down, loop, back through and another loop, right?”

“That’s perfect. Now just keep doing that until you come to the end of the row and I’ll show you how to turn.”

Sam had purposely chosen not to reveal Dana’s last name yet. He wanted Ursula’s unbiased evaluation of her character first. And while he hadn’t talked to Ursula alone, it was obvious the two women clicked. It may have been when Dana offered to make the cornbread, or possibly when she complimented one of Tommy’s whirligigs, but at some point today, Dana had won Ursula over. He wondered if it would stay that way once Ursula knew her last name.

Dana held up the somewhat irregular row of stitches. “Look, Sam. A whole row.”

He nodded. “Looking good. Some mouse with a cold neck is going to love that scarf.”

She gave a little giggle, the sound almost like the tinkle of the wind chimes on Ursula’s deck. “I think I’ll keep going until it’s a pot holder.”

Kimmik repositioned himself on the rug and laid his head on top of Sam’s foot. The sun had shifted far to the northwest, peeping through the small upper windows along the west wall to paint diagonal stripes across the room. Sam leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. A stomachful of moose chili, a good dog at his feet and the sound of soft laughter as Ursula and Dana put their heads together over their project—tonight, Sam was content.





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