The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  It was too late. He’d waited too long. He should have just taken her hand and pulled her back into the truck, back into his arms. Jake whined, wiggling, so Graham set him down.

  He never should have left Moose Springs that morning. He should have done so many things…

  “I need a flight to Chicago. I need—”

  “There are no more flights to Chicago today. That was the only one on the schedule. If you go back to the ticket counters, they can help you arrange a flight.”

  Standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows, there was nothing Graham could do but watch Zoey’s plane pulling away from the gate, taking his heart along with it. Jake pulled hard at the leash, trying to get to something behind Graham, but his eyes stayed glued to the plane.

  “Zo…”

  “Graham?”

  That voice. The perfect voice seared into his soul. Heart jumping into his throat, Graham turned around.

  She was sitting on a bench next to the cinnamon roll stand, the little stuffed happy moose he’d given her tucked against her hip and the largest cinnamon roll one could find until they got to Moose Springs balanced on her knee. Letting go of the leash, Jake bolted for her, a wiggling mass of happiness once again.

  If only it were that easy for people.

  Face red and splotchy from tears and arms full of Jake, Zoey raised her eyes up to him.

  “I had my moment,” she whispered. “I was waiting for the plane, and there was a car out there, just past the runway. This guy was parked next to a moose, trying to take a picture of it. And I got so mad because he should have known better. Moose matter. They’re not cute, cuddly stuffed things. They matter. People love them and care if bad things happen to them. I care if bad things happen to them.”

  Zoey squeezed the stuffed toy, adding softly, “And I realized I couldn’t leave.”

  “Because of the moose.”

  “Yeah. Because of the moose.” She gave him a watery smile. “And because of the bears and the whales, the ice caves and the mountains. The bonfires and the cinnamon rolls and little horrified faces made of ketchup on reindeer dogs. I can’t leave. This is where I want to be.” Her smile strengthened. “That’s a really tight shirt.”

  “I like the color,” he admitted.

  “I do too.”

  “Zoey, I want you.” Inhaling a deep breath, Graham took a step toward her. “Darlin’, I need you. What will it take to make us happen? Because I would do anything—”

  When the three-hundred-pound security guard hit him, it was with the force of a freight train and the determination of a man who had never saved his airport before and was damn well going to save it today.

  Graham didn’t have a chance.

  Face to a carpet that had seen the bottom of way too many people’s feet, Graham’s arms were wrenched behind his back, the guard using his greater weight to pin Graham in place. Jake started barking in alarm, but Zoey was quick enough to realize what was happening, keeping his leash too tight for him to reach the guard.

  “Is this really necessary?” Graham grunted, the breath squeezing out of his lungs.

  “Trespassing—” Wheeze wheeze. “In an airport—” Cough cough choke snort. “Is punishable—dang it. Graham?”

  “Yeah, man.” He eyeballed the guy on top of him. “Hey, Joey, do you think you can arrest me in a minute? I’m trying to win my dream girl here.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Well, I’m getting spooned by you and not her, so you tell me.”

  The security guard groaned, shook his head, and then climbed back to his feet, allowing a squashed Graham to do the same. Joey bent over, hands on his knees, wheezing hard. “That’s a long way to run. I should’ve turned left, not right.”

  Patting Joey on the back, Graham nodded. “Yeah, got to always turn left. And maybe focus on the cardio, buddy.”

  Joey gave him a thumbs-up, then lumbered over to a bench seat, dropping down. Waving off a pair of additional security officers, he flapped his hand at Graham to continue.

  “As I was saying, I want you—”

  Then Zoey’s mouth was on his, tasting of icing and cinnamon, sweet and soft as she melted in his arms. Her eyes gleamed with held back tears. “Keep going. You stopped at the best part.”

  Groaning, Graham kissed her again, whispering against her lips, “I need you.” Hands in her hair, he lingered over her mouth, adding, “And I will do anything to keep every inch of your perfect self in my life.”

  “I’m not going to be perfect for long.” Zoey glanced ruefully at the plane taking off on the runway. “All my underwear’s on that plane.”

  He couldn’t help but kiss her again. “I’m probably about to get arrested.”

  When she laughed against his lips, Graham didn’t care one bit if he ended up in jail for the second time over this one.

  The life he wanted—the one he’d been waiting for—had started the moment she walked into it.

  * * *

  As love stories went, it wasn’t the worst. Graham spent the day being questioned by airport security, the night in a little room while TSA checked and rechecked his credentials. Eventually, he was sentenced to serving thirty hours of community service for his crimes. They let him keep the shirt, as long as he paid for it.

  Considering everyone in Moose Springs knew Graham and his reason for getting himself into trouble this time, he never lacked for company or a cold beverage as he ambled down the road on his off hours between lunch and dinner shifts, spearing any trash he could find. And if he spent more time sitting in Jonah’s squad car than ambling, well, Jonah was a busy guy. He enjoyed having a moment to sit and talk about love too.

  Zoey didn’t mind the bright orange of the safety vest Graham wore on his community service time, but she quickly grew to hate the orange “Anchorage or Bust” shirt he’d procured at the airport gift shop.

  “This is our love shirt, Zoey Bear,” Graham told her just to tease her. “If I take it off, the romance will be over.”

  She took that shirt off often. From where they were both sitting, the romance between them was doing just fine.

  Moving to Alaska for a moose wasn’t really a thing. At least not a financially legitimate thing. But Zoey was a planner, and she could plan on the fly with the best of them. She never asked Graham to use his influence with the town to help her find a job. Zoey marched straight up to Jackson Shaw and told him exactly why the resort needed her as a tour guide. Sold on her drive and enthusiasm, Zoey walked away with the job of her dreams—and Graham’s nightmares. Graham had never seen anyone as happy as she was, a headset tucked behind her ears and a group of wide-eyed tourists hanging on to her every word.

  At night, curled up in his arms, Zoey whispered her plans against his skin. When she’d saved up enough money, she was planning on taking flying lessons, opening her own business, and running her own flight tours. Graham had absolutely no doubt she’d do everything she dreamed of.

  And while Zoey slept in—exhausted from taking on the world—Graham stood outside his workshop, chainsaw in hand, and he finally carved that sucker.

  A moose curled up around a bun. He’d never been so proud of anything…except for winning her.

  Four months, twenty-one days, and three hours from the night Graham had looked up from a hoagie and met the eyes of the woman he’d love forever, he stretched out in the back of his pickup truck, bundled up in a blanket and a thick winter jacket, that same woman and a second sandwich tucked in close for warmth.

  “You’re getting crumbs on me,” Graham warned her, even though he didn’t mind.

  “No, I’m not.” Zoey swatted away his tickling fingers. “Are you sure?”

  “About the crumbs? I’m pretty sure those aren’t my crumbs.”

  “No, goofball, about the—”

  Her voice slipped off into silence, e
yes wide as she stared up into the night sky. Taking her hand, Graham relaxed back, content to watch the woman he loved living her dream. Knowing she was his dream and all he would ever need. When she leaned into his shoulder, inhaling a soft sigh of happiness, Graham whispered in her ear.

  “Darlin’, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

  As the northern lights danced and played across the stars for her, Graham kept the little ring box in his pocket awhile longer. This was Zoey’s moment, not his.

  She’d always been worth the wait.

  Order Sarah Morgenthaler’s next book

  in the Moose Springs, Alaska series

  Mistletoe and Mr. Right

  On sale October 2020

  Click here!

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at Mistletoe and Mr. Right by Sarah Morgenthaler, coming October 2020!

  Chapter 1

  Someone had drawn a giant penis in the snow.

  “At least it’s anatomically correct.” Newly minted Moose Springs, Alaska property mogul Lana Montgomery tilted her head to the side, considering the artwork carved so precisely into the mountainside.

  “A snow angel might have been more appropriate.” Ben, her construction manager, scratched the back of his neck, trying and failing to keep a professional tone. “It is two weeks until Christmas.”

  “Yes, but then the message might have been lost. At least the mistletoe is a nice touch.”

  Nothing said screw you like an acre-wide penis pointed at a future construction site.

  Ben exhaled a breath into the cold winter air, as if trying to cover a snort. “The locals are consistent, I’ll give them that.”

  The penis was causing problems, as penises tended to do. The artwork was an eyesore, and the most recent in a long list of attempts by the Moose Springs locals to halt her luxury condominium project. At least the snow penis was refreshingly different from her normal issues: an accountant stealing from the family company here, insufficient returns from an ill-advised investment there, bad PR from someone in the family playing too hard with the Montgomery money.

  A cheerful approach at life meant Lana was good at smoothing things over, but cheerfulness didn’t help the slight crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes or the permanent stress line trying to carve itself into her forehead.

  Thirty-two was too young to feel the weight of her responsibilities this heavily.

  “I can get a snowcat out here to level this out,” Ben offered.

  “Let’s leave it for a while.” Lana smiled congenially at her contractor. “Let them have their fun. Someone went to an awful lot of effort to put this here without being seen. I’d hate to disappoint them. Plus, who knows what they might choose for the follow-up pièce de résistance?”

  “They don’t get to you at all, do they?”

  “I’m not completely immune to the attention.” Lana scooped a handle of snow into her gloved palm. “I’m also hoping it won’t take too much time before they stop being angry with me.”

  “You did buy up the entire town,” Ben reminded her with an amused look. “Folks in a place this small don’t take that sort of thing lightly.”

  “It’s only a few properties, just enough to give my company the votes to force through this development. Property owners hold a lot of political sway in Moose Springs. We can’t build a condominium on a mountainside without the town council’s approval.”

  “And you wonder why they don’t like you.” Ben softened his teasing with a good-natured chuckle. “Don’t worry. As soon as the place gets built, they’ll get used to it…in a couple dozen generations or so.”

  Montgomerys didn’t snort. At least, they didn’t in public, but what happened on a penis-carved mountainside stayed on a penis-carved mountainside.

  “Be careful, darling, your optimism is showing.”

  Ben barked out a laugh then waved his hand for her to follow him. She lobbed the snowball toward the closest mistletoe leaf before heading back to her snowmobile. It slipped and slid on the loose powdery snow until she maneuvered into Ben’s tracks. They circled the mountainside property the Montgomery Group had purchased from Moose Springs Resort and then tightened the circle to where her eventual luxury condominiums would be built.

  Key word: eventual.

  Among the top of today’s to-do list was checking on the construction site progress. As sites went, this one was sorely lacking. So far, they’d only driven tall stakes with bright orange plastic flags on the tops to mark the boundaries of what would soon become the riskiest venture Lana had ever started.

  The condominiums were meant to lure the rich and powerful from all over the world into permanently sinking their wealth into the town of Moose Springs, not simply arriving for a two-week ski-vacation at the resort every other year. New residents would enjoy all the amenities of the resort with the permanence of a personal vacation home.

  If Lana could just get the darn place built.

  As they reached the top of the site, highest on the mountainside, the town was at its best view. The lake below Moose Springs Resort had frozen over, now crisscrossed with tracks from snowmobiles and sledding children. Nestled in the bottom of the valley were tiny buildings set among thick stands of evergreen: the homes and businesses and people of Moose Springs. The lifeblood of this town.

  Lana loved Moose Springs in a way she’d never loved anything before. It had stolen her heart and soul since her first visit as a young child, and she was determined to drive a stabilizing steel bar through the picturesque Alaskan town’s shaky, tourism-driven economy no matter what. But just because she believed in what she was doing didn’t mean the town did too.

  Lana hadn’t given up hope she could get them on board with her plans, but as of yet, she had very little support in the community or her holding company.

  “Ask for forgiveness, not permission,” she murmured to herself as they slowed. Calling forward over the rumble of the engines, she asked Ben, “Are you sure we can’t break ground sooner?”

  “Not unless we want to be digging through eight feet of snow.”

  Lana’s work schedule limited her time in Moose Springs, but she was invested in doing this project right. For months, she and Ben had been up to their elbows in architect plans, zoning requirements, and a sleigh full of red tape. She’d hoped their progress would have been further by now.

  “I thought construction during winter was the norm in Alaska,” Lana said.

  “Yeah, if you need a roof replaced or a kitchen remodeled. Not this behemoth.”

  Lana pursed her lips. “I don’t suppose anyone would be willing to pay top dollar just to slide right on down the hill, would they?”

  Ben jutted his chin towards the snowy penis. “They wouldn’t want to pay top dollar to sit in the resort and see this lovely beast either.”

  “I know, Hannah’s been blowing up my phone.” The newly promoted General Manager of the resort had been emphatic Lana take care of it, or Hannah was hopping in one of the resort’s ski-slope-smoothing snowcats to do it herself.

  “Listen,” Ben grunted. “It’s not impossible, but the costs for site prep are going to skyrocket and there’s not much we can do about getting material in until the access road up here gets widened and gravel down. Ever tried to off-road a semi loaded down with heavy equipment?”

  “Point made. We wait until spring.” When Ben opened his mouth, Lana added, “Early spring. I’m getting this project done as fast as humanly possible. And Ben? When you start hiring day labor, supplement your crew with as many local hires as you can, please. It’ll save us on per diem.”

  He gave her a knowing look but didn’t call Lana out on her decision. Her construction manager knew exactly why she wanted the locals to benefit from the jobs this project would provide.

  She loved Moose Springs. Which only made it worse knowing they hated her.

&n
bsp; In the distance, a heavy cloud clung to the top of the highest peak, one usually obscured by the weather on less clear days than this.

  “Mount Veil is looking particularly ominous today,” she mentioned.

  Ben glanced at the giant hovering in the distance. “Veil’s not Denali, but it’s one badass monster. You’ve never tried to climb it?”

  “I’m more of a snowmobile girl.” Lana patted the handle of her ride.

  “If you’re going to be a resident of Moose Springs, you’re going to need to use the right lingo. This is a snow machine.”

  “I’m not a resident,” she informed him. “I stay in the resort.”

  “You own property, don’t you?”

  “The company owns property, not me.”

  Chicago, London, Singapore, the Virgin Islands…the Montgomery Group had their hands everywhere. But just because it was easier to stay at her family’s holdings didn’t mean she belonged in any of them. In the first thirty some years of her life, Lana had learned a lot from the company. Negotiating a million-dollar deal over cocktails was a normal Thursday for her. She could out-maneuver veteran CEO’s while making a single martini double twist to perfection. But she’d never learned how to feel at home.

  “Buying land doesn’t make you part of a town, Ben. I wish it were that easy.”

  “Well, ma’am, either way, you had better get down to the town hall meeting.”

  “Why is that?”

  Ben grinned at her. “Because they’re still trying to figure out how to get rid of you.”

  * * *

  Most town hall meetings were held in, well, a town hall. But not Moose Springs.

  In Moose Springs, town hall meetings were held in an abandoned barn on the far side of town, complete with snow piled up around the building to near impassability. If one wanted to get to the barn door closest to her parking spot, they better have some gumption and a sturdy pair of shoes.

  Lana had the first but not so much the second. She spent too much time in boardrooms to remember that Moose Springs liked to make things as difficult as possible.