Finding Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  Raven grinned at the revelation. “More impulsive actions?”

  “Some extremely impulsive actions.”

  “Anything beyond impulsive?”

  “You mean romance?” Dinner on the yacht had sure felt like romance. And if Cobra lived in LA, she’d be more than interested. But he didn’t live in LA, so she couldn’t let herself go there. It wouldn’t work between them. They both knew that.

  “Are you falling for Cobra?” Raven asked.

  “As in rethinking my entire life because he’s a nice guy and good in bed?”

  Raven chuckled. “You have to admit, those are two important prerequisites.”

  “If anyone could keep me warm in Alaska . . .” Marnie ventured. “But, no, my life plan is intact.” She had a career to think about, and that career now included entertainment law, which she found fascinating. LA was her city. Paradise was a lark.

  “So, just a fling?” Raven asked.

  “Just a fling.”

  Raven’s expression turned speculative.

  “Are you thinking about Brodie?”

  Raven was silent for a long moment. “There are days”—she pursed her lips—“when I wonder if I could, you know, maybe just once . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut. “And then sanity returns.”

  “Don’t you hate it when that happens?” Marnie admired Raven’s strength of character. The woman had perfectly valid reasons for staying out of Brodie’s arms, and she was sticking to her principles.

  “Do I ever.” Raven braced her hands on either side of herself on the bed. “To be honest, I was hoping you’d talk me into it.”

  “Do you want me to talk you into it?” That struck Marnie as backward.

  “I don’t know.” Raven scrunched up her face. “Maybe I want you to try.”

  Marnie tried to follow the line of reasoning. “Because if I can talk you into it, then it was inevitable.”

  “And if you can’t, then I’m stronger than I think.”

  “You want to pro and con this?”

  Raven sat up straight and flexed her shoulders.

  Marnie thought back to making love with Cobra. “I have to say, it would be a whole lot of fun.”

  Raven reached out and snapped her fingers. “Hey, we’re pro and conning me, not you.”

  “Sorry.” Marnie grinned and refocused. “What’ve you got?”

  “It would be a whole lot of fun.”

  “Pro.”

  “But it would be temporary.”

  “Probably.” Marnie knew the lightning that had struck with Mia and Silas was rare.

  Raven’s expression faltered. “And then there’s the afterward.”

  “That’s the trouble.” Marnie had pushed off thinking about that reckoning for her and Cobra.

  Raven drummed her fingertips on her knee. “There has to be more than that.”

  “You’d get to know Brodie better,” Marnie offered.

  “I know him pretty well.”

  “Not intimately. And you never know where it might lead.”

  “A white dress and flowers?” Raven looked extremely doubtful about that.

  “Probably not,” Marnie had to admit.

  The door opened, and Mia breezed in. “There you guys are.” She looked back and forth between them, taking in the focus on their expressions. “What are we talking about?”

  “Sex,” Marnie said.

  “Cobra,” Raven said overtop.

  Mia turned a folding chair to face them and plunked down. “Why would you start that without me?”

  “Sorry,” Marnie said on a laugh.

  Mia leaned forward. “So, catch me up.”

  Before they could start talking, the door opened again, and Silas stepped in. He walked over and turned the other chair to place it beside Mia.

  “We’re talking about sex,” Mia warned him as he sat down.

  Silas drew back, his eyes widening as he took in the circle. “Sounds like I’m just in time.”

  Mia socked him in the shoulder. “We’re not talking about sex in front of you.”

  Laughter danced in the depths of his eyes, and he leaned her way, lowering his voice. “We talk about sex all the time.”

  “Not Marnie and Cobra sex.”

  Marnie held her palms up defensively. “Okay, new topic.” As her words came out, Cobra arrived, catching the final words of the conversation.

  “What’s the old topic?” he asked.

  Silas smirked.

  Marnie gave up trying to hide it. “Our sex life.”

  Cobra glanced at the amused expressions around the room before taking it in stride. “I hope you made me sound good.”

  “He was great,” Marnie quickly told everyone with an exaggerated nod.

  Cobra strutted victorious across the tent to sit next to Marnie on the single bed. He took her hand in both of his.

  “I’ve never seen him act like that,” Mia said to Silas.

  Raven looked confused as well. “What have you done to our Cobra?” she asked Marnie.

  Cobra gave Marnie a puzzled look. “What exactly did you tell them?”

  “Nothing,” she said, deciding it was time to end the joke. If deflecting from Raven and Brodie had been the goal, they’d achieved it with ease.

  “Who brought wine?” Raven asked, looking expectantly at Mia.

  “I stashed a few cases in the back of the beaver,” Mia answered. “It was easy enough to bribe the pilot.”

  “We can’t drink tonight,” Cobra said.

  “There are rules?” Marnie asked. She’d thought this was a casual, lighthearted competition.

  “I have rules,” he said.

  “And we all have to follow them?” she challenged.

  “Only if you want to win.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Cobra held his breath, watching through binoculars while Marnie lined up on the next target. They’d practiced the shooting event a couple of times after returning to Paradise, so she’d known what to expect. The course was a series of targets of various shapes at various distances with short sprints in between.

  She had a harder time shooting accurately while she was out of breath, as most people did. But since the points were awarded based on both speed and accuracy, shooters didn’t want to waste time recovering at each target.

  Two of Cobra’s strengths were long legs and a fast breathing recovery time.

  She hit in the bull’s-eye at fifty and one hundred yards. Now she was lining up at one fifty.

  “Relax,” he muttered under his breath, seeing her movements go jerky. “Take five seconds.”

  As if she’d heard him, she seemed to slow herself down.

  “That’s it,” he muttered.

  “How’s she looking?” Brodie asked from his elbow.

  “Just a—”

  She pulled the trigger.

  Cobra quickly focused on the target. “Nailed it.”

  “Good?” Brodie asked.

  “Good,” Cobra said as Marnie slung the rifle over her shoulder and took off along the pathway at a run.

  She was in the middle of the pack speed-wise. There were at least a dozen women who were faster runners. But her accuracy was going to be hard to beat.

  “Heard you took first in the Chainsaw Chuck,” Brodie said.

  “I did.” Cobra watched Marnie approach the final target. At two hundred yards, and with the competitors tired out, this was the toughest one.

  “Nice,” Brodie said.

  “How’d T-Two do on the hill climb?” The Snowmobile Hill Climb event was held down the valley of Paisley Peak. They ran it in the morning before the avalanche danger could build from the sun.

  “Second place.”

  “Three points to Team Paradise,” Cobra
said, happy for T-Two, knowing he’d be thrilled with that finish. The snowmobile event was one of the most competitive.

  “Plus, your five points in Chainsaw Chucking.”

  “Fingers crossed for Marnie,” Cobra said, holding still again while she aimed.

  Her chest rose then fell. She put her eye to the scope, then pulled back from it and swiped at her hair.

  “Come on,” he said under his breath, acutely aware of the seconds ticking past.

  Brodie knew enough to stay quiet while they waited.

  Her shoulders relaxed, and Cobra could have cheered. Then she placed her finger and squeezed the trigger.

  Cobra moved his view to the target. She was slightly off this time, but still caught the edge of the bull’s-eye.

  “And?” Brodie asked.

  “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “She missed?”

  “She got it into the bull’s-eye, but—”

  “What do you mean, but?” Brodie clapped him on the shoulder. “Our girl hit the bull’s-eye.”

  “Not dead center.” Her first four shots had been flawless.

  “Do you think maybe your standards are a little high?” Brodie asked, eyebrows raised.

  “I don’t want her to be disappointed.”

  “Her or you?”

  Cobra looked at Brodie. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That you’re pretty invested in her results.”

  “You don’t want the points for Paradise?”

  “Sure, I want points. But it seems like you care more that she’s happy.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Silas.”

  Marnie was making her way back off the course, chatting with the other women who were gesticulating as they obviously compared notes on how their races had gone.

  Cobra was itching to congratulate her, but he had to wait in the spectator area.

  “What does Silas sound like?” Brodie asked.

  “He thinks I’m him and Marnie is Mia.”

  “And?”

  “And we’re not. Totally different situation. You know that.” Cobra was keeping things under control with Marnie.

  Marnie handed her gun to the inspector and pulled off her safety equipment then spotted him in the crowd. She grinned and came his way.

  He met her, lifted her in his arms and hugged her tight. “You were fantastic.”

  “Did you see?” she asked, sounding enthusiastic. “I nailed it.”

  “You did,” he agreed, happy that she wasn’t rattled by the final target.

  The loudspeaker crackled and squeaked, and they went silent to hear the results.

  She took first place, and they both whooped with delight.

  Brodie approached, and Cobra set Marnie down.

  “Nicely done,” he said. “Paradise thanks you.”

  “How’s our team doing?” she asked.

  “In an early second place,” Brodie said. “But there are plenty of events to go.”

  “How soon are you up?” Marnie asked Cobra, nodding to the shooting course. They’d set up for the men’s event next.

  “I’ve got a couple of hours.”

  “Did you see the setup for the Old-Time Pie Baking Contest?”

  “Are you interested in that event?” Cobra asked.

  Marnie nodded enthusiastically.

  Mrs. France was the baker for the Paradise team, while John Reed ran the wood stove for her. Cobra understood that keeping the heat up to temperature and even throughout the oven box was key to a successful pie.

  While Brodie headed out on team captain duties, Cobra and Marnie crossed the open field to the gazebo where the pie baking contest was under way.

  Smoke chugged from two dozen chimneys on two dozen wood-burning cookstoves set up around the perimeter of the raised gazebo. Each stove had a woodpile behind it, and contestants had a choice of sizes, species and dryness.

  The bakers were working at tables in the center of the gazebo.

  “Tell me she’s using wild cranberries,” Marnie said as they found a good spot to stand and watch Mrs. France.

  “Likely. They each use their own Alaska wild berry blend. The recipes are closely guarded secrets.”

  “I love that they use local ingredients.”

  Mrs. France and the others were putting the finishing touches on the pie crusts.

  “I’ve tasted that pie,” Cobra said.

  “Braggart.”

  “It’s good.”

  “You think she has a chance?”

  “A good chance—they bring judges in from Anchorage to keep them neutral.”

  “Seriously?”

  “There was an unfortunate scandal one year.”

  “A pie scandal?” Marnie laughed.

  John opened the firebox on their cookstove, peering in at the flame and poking the coals, before making the decision to add another stick of wood.

  “The Greyson Township mayor was accused of making a backroom deal with the judge from Pottersville, something about the use of his luxury fishing chalet.” Cobra held his palms apart and made a three-foot space. “Huge king salmon.”

  “Was he guilty?”

  Cobra glanced around and leaned down, speaking in a mock cloak-and-dagger tone. “We’ll never know for sure. But Greyson won that year, and the mayor mysteriously left office a month later. We all have our suspicions.”

  Marnie looked skeptical. “Why would anyone take that risk?”

  “For the coveted Klondike Challenge championship plaque.”

  They watched Mrs. France slide her pie into the oven, with John carefully opening and closing the door.

  A small cheer went up from the Paradise spectators.

  “There’s a plaque?” Marnie asked.

  “You haven’t seen it yet?”

  “No, I thought this event was for fun—or just bragging rights.”

  “It’s an original 1896 gold pan, silver plated and decorated with a gold nugget from each of the team’s communities.”

  “It sounds valuable.”

  “I suppose, depending on the price of gold at the time.”

  “Might someone be tempted to steal it?”

  “They haven’t so far.” Cobra could only imagine the frenzied recovery effort if someone stole the Klondike Challenge plaque.

  * * *

  * * *

  By day three of the Klondike Challenge, Paradise was running a close second to Balsam Ridge, who had the home field advantage.

  Marnie and Cobra both won their pistol competitions, and Mrs. France was thrilled to win for Pie Baking. Sadly, both Paradise competitors had fallen during yesterday’s Snowshoe Race, and Marnie had been edged out of the top three spots in Ax Throwing. Raven came sixth, and the two women had consoled each other.

  This morning, Paradise had made a good showing in the Green Energy Challenge. Mia had ridden a bike for the team, and they’d managed to get third—an important two points, since Paradise was nipping at the heels of Balsam Ridge.

  Firewood Stacking was under way now, with Raven and Brodie working furiously together. Most of the Paradise team was out to cheer them on in the marquee event. The competitors were scored on both the speed of their stacking and the density of their final stack.

  Brodie used a chainsaw to buck the logs into specified lengths, while Raven used a gas-powered log splitter to cut them into halves then quarters. Then she stacked them in the rack. Marnie was in awe of Raven’s ability to smoothly set up, split and stack piece after piece. It looked like exhausting work, but Raven just kept going without faltering.

  “Does Brodie have the easy job?’ Mia asked Silas from where they were standing next to Marnie.

  “Easy?” Silas asked back, looking puzzled.

  “The saw goes thou
gh the logs like nothing,” Mia said.

  “You ever used a chainsaw before?”

  Mia gave Silas an incredulous look, drawing out the word. “Right.”

  Marnie had used a chainsaw a few times—enough to learn how. The one she’d used was smaller than Brodie’s, and it was tough enough.

  “It weighs close to thirty pounds with full fuel,” Silas said.

  “And there’s resistance,” Marnie said.

  Silas gave her an approving nod.

  “Brodie’s only making it look easy,” Marnie added.

  “Here I was feeling sorry for Raven,” Mia said.

  “I’m still feeling sorry for Raven,” Marnie said. “That’s tough work.”

  “I feel like such a wimp.”

  Silas gave Mia a squeeze around the shoulders. “I like you wimpy.”

  “Thanks tons.”

  “It makes you lighter to carry in the Wife Packing Contest.”

  “Partner Packing,” she corrected him.

  “When are we getting married, anyway?” he asked.

  Mia looked incredulous. “You want to talk about that now?”

  “What’s wrong with now? The subject of wives just came up. It’s a natural question.”

  Marnie stifled a laugh.

  Mia gave her a sidelong glance. “Not funny.”

  “Kind of romantic,” Marnie said.

  “How so?”

  Silas jabbed his thumb in Marnie’s direction. “What she said.”

  “Even with all these distractions,” Marnie continued. “The minute the word wife came up, he thought of you.”

  “Well, we are engaged,” Mia pointed out, flashing her ring in front of his face.

  He grasped her hand and kissed it.

  Cobra arrived. “How are we doing?”

  “Silas is doing some wedding planning on the sidelines,” Marnie answered.

  Cobra looked back to Marnie, eyebrows raised. “How’d that come up?”

  She made a rolling motion with her hand. “Wife Packing, wedding, something, something. Raven and Brodie are doing great.”

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Raven faltered after placing a piece of wood on the pile. She stared in horror at the splitter then hit the lever. The splitter shuddered and stilled.

  Marnie saw gas leaking out, and her stomach sank.