“She baked me a blueberry pie as a farewell gift, using the leftover berries she’d frozen. I ate the whole pie already, and that’s when it hit me that there’d be no more.”
I’d been the one picking those blueberries with Josie. I never thought I’d enjoy wandering around the lake’s edge picking berries. Then again, I was willing to do about anything if it meant I could spend time with her. I had it bad. Even now, with the deadline closing in on me, I couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving. That made my growing list even more important. If ever there was a time I needed my wits about me, it was now.
“You gonna miss her, too, right?” Jack asked me.
“Yeah, I suppose.” No need admitting more than necessary.
Jack frowned. “You do know that if you were to marry her, she’d be here full-time and could cook for us?”
“Us?” I arched my brows. I didn’t like the idea of Jack thinking he could drop by for meals any time the mood struck him, but then that was Jack. He was clueless when it came to social etiquette. Knowing him as well as I did, he’d be stopping by daily.
“Well, yes,” Jack countered. “Seems right you’d want to invite me over.”
I snorted out loud. “Not happening.”
Jack appeared offended by my rejection. “Did I or did I not share that elk meat with you?”
“One roast does not equate to a lifetime of free meals.”
“And my sourdough starter, which I’d like to remind you is over a hundred and fifty years old,” Jack added.
“Right.” I was willing to admit that I appreciated the starter and routinely made good use of it. I ate sourdough pancakes almost every morning, thanks to Jack’s starter.
“Then show a little appreciation, son.”
It probably wasn’t right to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t help it. “No use arguing, Jack. It’s highly likely that Josie will leave in the morning, along with the rest of the lodge staff.” I hated being a pessimist, but at the rate this list was going, I was slowly coming to the realization that I didn’t have a lot to offer to convince her to stay, compared to what she had in the big city.
Jack’s eyes brightened and he sat up straight, ready to solve the world’s problems. “Palmer, I wasn’t joking. You should marry her.”
I didn’t argue with him, but I certainly wasn’t telling Jack that I intended to propose that very evening.
“You want me to ask her for you?” Jack eagerly offered, his face glowing with the idea. “I’d propose to her myself, but you’re the one she’s been spending her time with most evenings. Don’t get me wrong. If I were you, I’d marry her right quick.”
“Ah…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll ask her for you.”
“What?” I demanded. “Listen here, old man, if anyone does the asking, it’ll be me. I don’t need you or anyone else speaking on my behalf.”
Looking lost and dejected, Jack’s shoulders drooped, and he leaned back against the chair. “Likely I’d mess it up anyway. Asked a woman to marry me once before, and it didn’t turn out like I’d hoped.”
This caught my attention. “Oh?” Maybe I could get some hints on what not to do from Jack’s failed proposal.
“Yup, I was as nervous as a beaver on the tundra. She didn’t seem all that interested in my offer…think I must have said something to offend her.”
“What happened?”
Jack shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the memory. He raised his hand to his face, rubbing his beard. “You might have trouble believing it, but I used to be a good-looking fella. I was in my thirties at the time and was thinking if I was going to start a family, I had better find myself a woman and get to work.”
I’d been having the same thoughts myself, although I wasn’t going to mention it to Jack, because then the whole town would know.
“Did she give you a reason for turning you down?”
“Actually, she didn’t do a lot of talking after I proposed.” A thoughtful, sad look came over him.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t even mind that she had no experience cooking wild game. Fact is, I was willing to overlook a lot of her faults, and told her so, thinking she’d appreciate my generosity.”
“And how did that go over?”
He stroked his beard once again. “She took offense. Never quite understood why. It wasn’t like she had men pounding down her door. I thought she’d be happy that I was willing to marry her.”
“Was she a good cook?”
“Fair. She didn’t seem to receive that observation of mine very well, either. Women are funny that way. I probably should have exaggerated my appreciation of her skills in the kitchen.”
“Did you tell her you thought she was pretty?”
“Nope. Truth was she wasn’t much to look at. I didn’t mind, though.”
I swallowed a smile. “You didn’t mention that to her, did you?”
“Oh no. Knew better than that. Women need to think they’re the light of a man’s life.”
“What else did you say?” Little did Jack know, I was taking mental notes.
Jack tapped his finger against his lips. “Been twenty years ago now, so I don’t recall the exact words. Never had high expectations, seeing that the ratio of men to women wasn’t in my favor living here in the Alaskan wilderness. I do remember that I told her that she was the best I could do.”
I could only imagine how well that comment had gone over with the poor woman.
Jack shook his head. “Still don’t know why she didn’t accept my proposal.”
“She say anything else?”
Jack snorted. “A big fat NO was all I got. Apparently, I’d read her wrong. I could have sworn she was sweet on me.”
“You propose to anyone else?”
“Nope. Once was enough. A man can only take so much rejection, and I’d had my fill.”
This I could understand. Jack had given up after that single rejection. Frankly, I couldn’t see myself wanting to marry anyone other than Josie. And if Josie ended up turning me down, then I feared I’d be just like Jack years down the road, looking back and wondering where I’d gone wrong.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how important it was to say whatever it was that Josie needed to hear if I was going to convince her to marry me. As sad as it was to admit, I could see myself making a mess of my proposal the same way Jack had done.
Jack sadly shook his head and exhaled slowly. “In the end it was probably for the best that Sally rejected me. Don’t know that I’m the marrying kind. You and me are a lot alike, you know.”
This was not encouraging news.
My eyes drifted down to the list in front of me, and my heart sank. I had the distinct feeling it was going to take a miracle of biblical proportions to get Josie to agree to be my wife.
CHAPTER 2
Josie
The Caribou Lake Lodge was closing for the winter, and after six months in Ponder, I was sorry to leave. It’d been the longest time I’d ever spent away from my mother and the city of Seattle, where I’d been born and raised. The separation hadn’t been easy, but I felt it was time well spent. It’d always been just my mom and me, and being apart had taught me valuable lessons about myself, lessons I hoped to take with me as I headed off to my first real job. As a sous-chef, I’d be working hand in hand with the head chef, creating menu items, plus training new staff, as well as keeping the kitchen organized and flowing. I’d been given the opportunity of a lifetime, working in a newly opened Seattle restaurant with Douglas Anton, a renowned chef. A career break like this didn’t come along every day. For me, it was a dream come true. The culinary school I’d attended had recommended me for the position. Their faith in me was more than I could have dreamed. The only drawback was that I had to wait six months after graduation for the comple
tion of Chef Anton’s newest restaurant, which was why I happened to be in Alaska. This opportunity not only helped me to pass the time, but it also gave me the chance to do what I loved best: create recipes based on locally sourced ingredients.
Now it was the end of October, and time to return home and start my career. In the morning, the Brewsters, the remainder of the staff, and I would catch the last passenger ferry for the long ride down the lake to semi-civilization, before hopping on a small plane to Fairbanks, and from there, on to Seattle.
I was surprised at how well I’d acclimated to Alaska and to the lack of amenities, considering I’d grown up in a city where I’d had everything at my fingertips. Ponder had no shopping mall, theater, or Starbucks. Access to the Internet was only a recent addition in the past few years, and that had been a game-changer for everyone in town.
Alaska was beautiful. One of my favorite things to do was watch the eagles dive for fish in the lake. Jerry Brewster, the lodge owner, entertained me with story after story of the eagles on Caribou Lake. One time he’d hooked a salmon and was reeling it in when an eagle swooped down and grabbed the fish and flew off with it. With the fish still attached to the line, Jerry attempted to reel it in, fighting the eagle for the salmon. While Jerry eventually won the battle, the eagle had left talon marks on the salmon’s flesh.
Being a member of a small community took some getting used to, but I’d managed in short order. Life here was a stark contrast to that in Seattle or any big city. I especially enjoyed the way folks used any excuse they could find for a community gathering. There was the Midnight Sun Festival, which included a midnight baseball game, and yes, it was full sunlight at midnight. The Fourth of July Festival. The Chili Cook-off won by a young mother, Angie Wilkerson. I’d wished there’d been more time to get to know her, as I felt we could have been friends.
The longer I lived at the lodge, the more beauty I discovered each day. I could stare for hours at the night sky. Living in the city, I’d never truly seen stars the way I could in Alaska. I was left awestruck by how many were visible in the totally black sky, like diamond dust scattered across the heavens.
Of course, I’d been here through spring, summer, and early autumn, when the awesome splendor of all that was Alaska was evident every day. I’d been able to observe moose and caribou from afar, and even once saw a bear amble down the middle of town as if it was shopping day. Moments like those made me have no regrets for not having access to a Starbucks or a nail salon for almost six months. I’d more than survived this experience—I’d thrived here in Ponder. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible when I’d arrived. Those first couple weeks in town, all I saw was what the little town didn’t have. It wasn’t long before I began to appreciate the abundance of all that it did have to offer.
And then there was Palmer Saxon. My heart grew heavy at the thought of saying good-bye to him and his constant companion, a big husky named Hobo. It would have been far too easy to fall totally in love with him. It was hard to think about leaving without my mind and my heart automatically returning to Palmer. It was going to be difficult—harder than I wanted to think about.
Palmer was the epitome of how one would define an Alaskan man.
Independent.
Self-sufficient.
Stubborn.
Rugged.
And a dozen other adjectives quickly came to mind. Just the thought of Palmer being outside of this world, and wearing a suit and tie, was enough to make me giggle. I couldn’t picture him in anything other than his plaid flannel shirts and worn blue jeans. We’d grown close in the time I’d spent at the lodge. He was unlike any man I’d ever known. We’d never officially had a typical date, like dinner or a movie—and yet I felt like I knew him better than any of my friends back home. We’d spent virtually every day together since I’d been here. It wasn’t going to be easy to leave. Thinking about Palmer weighed down my heart. Really, there was no future for us, I had reasoned to myself. I’d come to love Alaska, but I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life here. Nor would Palmer ever be happy in a big city. The traffic alone would undo him.
As hard as it was to admit, it was unlikely I’d ever return to Ponder. It was best to let the relationship die before either of us had regrets. It saddened me. I knew I was going to miss Palmer dreadfully, but I was mature enough to accept that there was no other option than for me to leave come morning.
In addition to Palmer, I’d miss Jack, too. He was a good man, kind and gentle. Funny, too, although I don’t think he realized it. Over the six months I’d spent at the lodge, he’d become like a father figure to me. My own father had died when I was only three years old in a construction accident before I had any memories of him. While Mom had occasionally dated over the years, there’d never been anyone serious.
Like Palmer, Jack was everything I’d listed as a true Alaskan man, and more. He’d worn the same shirt and pants the entire time I’d been working at the lodge. Apparently, he’d bought several sets of the same outfit and wore them repeatedly. He must have gotten a discount, was all I could think. That, or he couldn’t be bothered with appearances.
The one thing continually on Jack’s mind was food. He gushed with compliments over my cooking. I swear I could have fed him boxed macaroni and cheese and he’d say he’d never eaten anything better. The way he told it, I cooked like an angel. He repeatedly insisted that he’d never tasted food as good as what I served. I’m convinced he fed the same line to every chef who’d ever been at the lodge, but I had to say I enjoyed hearing it. When Jack wasn’t guiding a hunting party or panning for gold, he found every excuse under the sun to hang around the kitchen with me. I enjoyed our talks—I was comfortable discussing my career, hopes, and goals with him. I liked to think that if my father had lived, we would’ve shared conversations like those I’d shared with Jack.
My suitcases were packed, and I was ready to leave when the ferry arrived, at about six in the morning. We were instructed to have our luggage in the lobby that night before heading to bed. Jerry had already pulled his boat out of the water and taken it across the lake for servicing and winter storage. Within a week, two at the most, the lake would freeze over. Most of the summer residents of Ponder had already departed for the winter, and it had become something of a ghost town. Only a few rugged souls remained behind, Palmer and Jack among them.
The knock on my door didn’t surprise me. I figured it was Palmer, and I was right. Per our usual routine, he waited until the kitchen was clean and I was in my room before he stopped by.
“Hey,” I said, smiling at him, doing my best to hide my heart. Seeing him, I realized that this was going to be harder than I’d thought it would be. We’d spent evenings together practically every night for the last six months. I’d truly enjoyed every minute with him and Hobo. I’d never had a relationship like this, nor had I ever felt as close emotionally to a man. I feared that in the future I would compare everyone I dated to him, and everyone else would pale in comparison.
“You up for a walk?” he asked.
It was the same question he asked me every night.
“Sure.” I looked around. “Where’s Hobo?”
“I left him at the house.”
That wasn’t typical. Hobo was Palmer’s shadow—he almost always joined us. I reached for a jacket as we headed out of the lodge. Evenings had become decidedly cooler now. There’d even been a hint of snow the day before, and more was forecasted. While it was only October, this part of Alaska typically had snow by this time, and I knew Seattle was already engulfed in the autumn rainy season.
I dressed warmly, being sure to use thick wool socks along with my boots. Because it was my last night, I didn’t want to turn Palmer down, despite the frigid air. I could see my breath when we stepped outside.
“It’s getting colder every day now,” I commented, looking up at the sky on the off chance I’d
get one last look at the Northern Lights before I departed. The aurora borealis was something to behold. Flashing streaks of purple and green shot across the night sky, the beauty of it taking my breath away every time. One of my favorite memories of my time in Alaska was lying on my back with Palmer beside me, holding my hand, while we looked up at the sky. I’d never felt closer to anyone.
“Winter’s coming on,” Palmer said, hands buried deep inside his coat pockets.
Just this morning, Jerry had mentioned that according to the Farmers’ Almanac, this winter was forecasted to be one of the coldest on record. The lake had already started to freeze.
I tucked my arm around Palmer’s elbow because of the uneven ground. All right, it was an excuse. I liked being close to Palmer, and because it was our last night together, this made it especially poignant.
We walked down the familiar path, and he was unusually quiet.
“Josie?”
“Yeah?”
He released my arm and reached inside his jeans pocket, removing a slip of paper. Then he turned toward the moonlight to read whatever was on it.
“You’re beautiful,” he read. “I want you to know when I look at you all I see is beauty.”
Well, that was nice, although unexpected. “Thank you, Palmer.”
He looked down at his list a second time. “I like that your teeth are white and straight, too.”
Teeth? He liked my teeth? “Ah, thanks. I wore braces for almost two years. Mom couldn’t afford an orthodontist bill, so she baked and sold cakes to pay for all the dental work I needed.” My mother had made sacrifices throughout my entire childhood.
“I like your blue eyes, too.”
I grinned and looked down at the ground. “They’re brown, Palmer.”
“They are? I could have sworn they were blue.”
“Nope, always have been brown.”
He inhaled so loudly I thought he might pass out. “You okay, Palmer?” He was acting so strangely.
Bracing his hand against the side of a tree, he hung his head.
Alaskan Holiday Page 2
