Alaskan Holiday

by Debbie Macomber

  He had me worried. “Are you okay?” I asked again, frowning. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. I was about to suggest we return to the lodge when he started to speak again.

  “Yes,” he barked. “I’m feeling just fine.” He looked up and apologized. “I…I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “It’s okay. I’d hate for us to argue on my last night here. That happens, you know.”

  “What happens?” he asked, as he broke away from the tree and we continued our walk.

  “I have a friend,” I explained, hoping to ease the awkwardness between us. “Her name is Jessie, you might have heard me mention her before.”

  “What about Jessie?”

  “Her husband’s in the Navy, stationed on an aircraft carrier. He’s away up to eight months at a time. She told me that before he leaves port, they always seem to have a big fight. I know it sounds nuts, but she says it makes it easier for him to go and for her to be without him. They always make up, but it’s a pattern they’ve fallen into.”

  “Oh?”

  It sounded as though Palmer didn’t have an inkling as to why I’d mentioned Jessie. “I was thinking, you know, that we should have a fight, because it would be easier for us to part ways in the morning.”

  Palmer didn’t seem to hear me. Instead of responding, he looked down at the same piece of paper. “I’ve never met anyone who can cook as well as you, and still manage to stay in good shape.”

  I managed to swallow a laugh, because he appeared to be entirely serious. “Well, thank you, Palmer, but you know the saying about not trusting a skinny cook.”

  “I trust you, Josie,” he insisted. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t.”

  “I know you trust me. It’s just a joke people make, Palmer.” I couldn’t figure out what on earth had gotten into him.

  “Your hair smells good, too, like vanilla and strawberries.”

  “It’s the shampoo I use,” I explained. He really didn’t look well. “Are you sure everything is all right, Palmer? You’re acting strange.”

  “I’m fine. The way a woman smells is important to a man.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is. The way a man smells is important to a woman, too,” I assured him.

  “I routinely bathe,” he rushed to tell me, as if it was vitally important that I know he had good hygiene.

  “Yes, I’m sure you do.”

  “I don’t put on any of that fancy cologne, though. That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  “Not in the least.” In all the months I’d been in Ponder, this was the oddest conversation I’d had with Palmer. I looked up, and his features were highlighted by the moonlight. Right away I noticed how pale he was. “Palmer, you are sick. It looks like you’re about to throw up.”

  He leaned his back against a tree and closed his eyes. “I think I might.”

  Coming to stand next to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Bend over and take in deep breaths.”

  He did as I suggested and noisily dragged oxygen into his lungs. His shoulders heaved with the effort.

  “Let me walk you back to your cabin. Do you need water?”

  “What I need,” he grumbled, “is for this to be over.”

  He wasn’t making sense. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I led him back the way we’d come, steering off the path toward his cabin. We hadn’t gone more than a few feet when he stopped abruptly. He turned so that he was facing me and placed his hands on my shoulders. His grip was tight.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he said, his eyes imploring mine.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll stay in your cabin with you for a bit, until you’re feeling better,” I assured him.

  “Not my cabin, Josie,” Palmer corrected me. “I don’t want you to leave Ponder.”

  That made absolutely no sense. “Not leave Ponder? But the lodge is closing for the winter.” He knew this as well as I did. The lodge closed every winter.

  “You can stay.”

  “No, I can’t.” What he was suggesting was utter nonsense. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he was thinking. He knew I had a wonderful job waiting for me in Seattle; we’d talked about it multiple times.

  “You like Alaska, don’t you?”

  “It was a challenge in the beginning, but yes, I like it. These past six months have been a great experience, one that I will always treasure.”

  His face relaxed. “Then you wouldn’t mind staying? Winters can be rough, but after a few years you grow accustomed to the freezing temperatures and dealing with the cold. There’s beauty here during the winter months that you won’t find anyplace else in the world.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.”

  “Then you’ll stay?” He looked hopeful and eager.

  “Palmer. The lodge is closing. What would I do with my time? I need to work to support myself. I have a whole other life waiting for me back in Seattle. My mom is there, my friends, plus I have a great opportunity to work for Chef Anton. You know all that. I don’t understand what you want. In fact, this entire conversation isn’t making the least bit of sense.”

  Palmer closed his eyes and then opened them again. His look was as serious as I’d seen. “You could cook for Jack and me. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and this is what I think you should do. I know this job is important to you, Josie, and remaining at the lake would be a big sacrifice on your part.”

  His eyes made direct contact with mine before he continued.

  “I would consider moving to Seattle, but living in a city would never work for me.”

  “You’d move to Seattle just so I could cook for you?” I knew my way around a kitchen, but for him to turn his entire life upside down to take advantage of my culinary skills was nothing short of preposterous.

  A determined look appeared on his face. “Well, of course. A husband needs to be with his wife.”

  “His WIFE?” I practically exploded. At some point I’d completely lost track of where this odd conversation was leading. “You’re asking me to marry you?”

  His gaze was warm and soft as he nodded his head, his eyes wide and sincere.

  I placed my hand against my heart as I realized what Palmer had been trying to say. So this was why he’d started with all those silly compliments.

  “Well, Josie?” he asked, his voice full of anticipation. “Will you?”

  “You want to marry me?” I asked him again, to be certain I understood him.

  “Yes,” he continued. “I’ve probably made a mess of this. I apologize, Josie, I should never have listened to Jack. He was sure if I told you how beautiful you are that it would sway you, so I tried to find ways to let you know it was more than just your looks and your cooking. I’ve never been in love before. Never spent as much time with a woman as I have with you. Being with you makes me happy. I want you to marry me more than anything. Put me out of this misery and say you’ll marry me and live here with me in Ponder.”

  “Oh Palmer.” I honestly thought I might break into tears. It took awhile to gain my composure before I answered. Pressing my hands against the sides of his face, against his beard, I tried my best to explain. “Palmer, as much as I appreciate everything you’ve said”—my voice caught and cracked as I spoke—“I can’t. I…just can’t. I’m so sorry.”

  He hung his head in defeat and slowly exhaled. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “My life is in Seattle.”

  He nodded, acting like he wasn’t surprised that I’d turned him down.

  “It’s always been my mom and me, and I can’t leave her, Palmer. I’m all she has.” We were close, always had been. While my friends had gone through tough times with their parents, I could honestly say I never had. My mother was everything to me. She and I had connected almost every day while I was in Ponder. Well, nearly every day. She seem
ed to be unusually busy this last summer, and there’d been a two- or three-day span when I hadn’t been able to reach her. Being away from her had been the hardest part of living in Alaska.

  “Is there anything I can offer that would tempt you to change your mind?” he asked.

  My throat felt raw with the effort to hold back tears, so rather than speak, I shook my head.

  The silence between us was excruciating.

  “Then it’s a definite no?”

  I felt dreadful, sick at heart. “I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t apologize.”

  I couldn’t help it. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to maintain my composure. More than anything, I hated disappointing Palmer. It hurt me to reject him. And the truth was, I was tempted, sincerely tempted. I yearned to tell him how badly I wished things could be different, but it would be pointless. There might be a chance for us if he lived in Seattle, but it went without saying that I’d never ask that of him. Palmer was as much a part of Alaska as the rugged wilderness that surrounded the lake. He’d be completely out of his element and totally unhappy in the city.

  Unexpectedly, Palmer pulled me into his arms and hugged me close. I wanted him to kiss me. He didn’t. I felt him take a slow, deep breath before he gently took hold of my shoulders.

  “Have a good life, Josie.”

  He held on to me a bit longer before he turned away. Without looking back, he walked toward his cabin.

  I watched him go and my heart sank. Part of me wanted to holler and say I’d marry him, but I knew I couldn’t. The life and career that I had worked so hard for was back in Seattle, not in Ponder.

  How long I stood in the dark, I couldn’t say. Eventually, I made my way back to the lodge. Both Jerry and Marianne Brewster were standing by the huge rock fireplace that dominated the lobby. The last guests had departed the day before, so only the Brewsters and a few staff members remained.

  Jerry and Marianne looked at me expectantly, acting like they’d been waiting for my return and that I had some announcement to make.

  Jack was there, too. When I entered the room, the older man slowly stood and stared at me with anticipation.

  “Well?” he asked. “You gonna marry Palmer or not?”

  I stood frozen, not more than two feet inside the door. It seemed everyone knew Palmer was going to propose tonight—everyone except me.

  Sadly, I shook my head. Tears began to fall down my cheeks.

  “He should have let me do the asking,” I heard Jack say, as I quickly headed back to my room.

  “Josie, be sure to put your suitcases in the lobby before you head to bed,” Jerry called after me.

  I nodded, though I was in such a hurry I doubt anyone saw.

  CHAPTER 3

  Josie

  I woke in the dark, warm and comfortable. Stretching my arms above my head, I yawned, surprised the alarm hadn’t woken me, especially since I’d spent a miserable night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

  The last time I’d looked at the clock, it was close to three in the morning, and I had only two and a half hours to get some sleep before I had to be up to catch the ferry. My head was spinning after Palmer had proposed, and I couldn’t get to sleep. So I crawled out of bed and took one of those aspirins that had a sleeping aid in it. Quite honestly, it had surprised me that I’d managed to fall asleep at all, even with that bit of help. Rolling over, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and froze.

  I looked again and blinked hard.

  8:30 a.m.

  That couldn’t be right. No possible way.

  The ferry was scheduled to leave Ponder at six this morning. Throwing off the covers, I jumped out of bed and flung open the door to my room.

  “Marianne!” I shouted.

  My voice echoed down the hallway and returned to me, empty. The lodge was eerily silent. They couldn’t have left without me—Marianne and Jerry wouldn’t do that to me. They knew I had to be back in Seattle for my new job.

  I raced into the kitchen, certain I’d find them drinking coffee and making jokes about me oversleeping. If not the Brewsters, then someone must have stayed behind. Anyone.

  But the kitchen was dark, cold, and, worst of all…vacant.

  My heart was pounding like war drums by the time I returned to my room. Before going to bed, I’d purposefully laid out my traveling clothes next to my packed suitcases and carefully set my alarm.

  My alarm. Had I forgotten to set my alarm? No, of course not. I wouldn’t forget something like that. I remembered doing it. I grabbed my phone to verify that I had it set to wake me, and instantly realized my mistake. I’d set it, all right. For five-thirty in the afternoon, instead of the morning.

  Groaning, I quickly got dressed in my jeans and sweatshirt and raced around the lodge, my heart in my throat, looking for…I didn’t know what I was looking for. Maybe some sort of evidence that I hadn’t been abandoned and left behind.

  It took several minutes before I found the note Marianne had left me.

  Josie,

  I repeatedly knocked on your door, but there was no answer, and you hadn’t brought out your suitcases, so I assumed you’d had a change of heart about accepting Palmer’s proposal and decided to stay in Ponder after all.

  Congratulations from the bottom of our hearts! Jerry and I wish you both every bit of happiness. Count on working for us next season, as we would love to have you back.

  Marianne

  She’d wrongly assumed that I had decided to ditch the opportunity of a lifetime to work with the chef of my dreams. She believed I’d stayed behind to marry Palmer.

  Was she nuts? Or was I?

  As drawn as I was to Palmer, I couldn’t marry him. I’d stayed up half the night going over every conceivable way to make our relationship work and I couldn’t think of one. Yet Marianne had apparently believed that I had second thoughts. That sleep aid had worked its dark magic, and I’d never heard Marianne knock on my door.

  A sob rose up in my throat. I’d been left behind. Abandoned.

  The ferry that had departed this very morning was the last one out of Ponder until next spring. The last to travel across Caribou Lake before it froze over for the long Alaskan winter.

  Panic filled me as I grabbed my jacket and shot out of the lodge, racing to the dock, hoping against hope that I wasn’t too late. My footsteps echoed through the morning stillness as dawn broke over the horizon. By the time I reached the water, my heart was pounding in my throat. Bending forward, I placed my hands on my hips and stared into the distance. As far as the eye could see was water. There wasn’t even a ripple on the lake, letting me know that it had been a long time since the boat had left the dock. Ice had already started to form against the lake’s edge, and to complicate everything, it had started to snow.

  Not knowing what else to do, I returned to the lodge and my room. I sank onto the end of my bed and struggled to hold back tears while I reviewed my options, of which there seemed to be shockingly few. This was Palmer’s fault.

  Looking to place the blame fully on his shoulders, I headed out the door once more and practically ran to his cabin, eager to confront him for causing this fiasco. His workshop was attached to the house and I let myself in without knocking, not that he was likely to hear me with all the noise in his shop. Hobo’s bed was in the corner of the room. He lifted his head when I stepped inside but then lowered his chin to his paw as if he’d been expecting me all along.

  I found Palmer pounding away on a red-hot blade of steel, what looked like a long sword, worthy of a Japanese warrior. I’d never met a swordsmith before Palmer and had found his work fascinating. Over the last six months, I’d spent a lot of time in his workshop and learned a lot about what he did. He was a true artist.

  Stopping just inside the door to catch my breath, I noticed Palme
r had on a work shirt. Even without the sleeves rolled up, I could see the bulging muscles of his upper arms. He loved what he did, and from what the Brewsters had told me, he was one of the best in the country. His swordsmith work was highly sought by people all around the world. Because Palmer was passionate about his craft, I felt that he, of all people, would understand why I couldn’t give up this opportunity to work with Chef Anton. There had to be a way to get back to Seattle. If not, I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  It took him a minute to notice me. When he did, he froze, his hammer raised. At first all he did was stare at me. Setting the hammer aside, he shifted the protective eyewear to the top of his head, his face beginning to glow as a slow smile came over it.

  “You stayed,” he said, in a voice that told me he found it hard to believe I was still in Ponder.

  “No, I didn’t stay,” I insisted, overwhelmed by my predicament.

  Palmer blinked and frowned before I realized what I’d said.

  “Not by choice, that is,” I quickly amended.

  His brow folded into a deep frown. “Are you saying you haven’t changed your mind about marrying me?”

  “I overslept and missed the boat, and furthermore,” I said, struggling not to weep, “this is all your fault.”

  “Mine?”

  “You had to ruin everything and propose. You had to know that my heart would say yes and that my head would say no, and now…now you need to help me get to Seattle.” The least Palmer could do was find me a way out of Ponder.

  He kept staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Why is it my fault that you missed the ferry?”

  “You proposed…and I couldn’t sleep…then I took an aspirin with a sleep aid…When I did…I didn’t hear anything…Marianne’s note said she knocked…but I didn’t wake up.”

  Palmer said nothing and continued to look at me. He seemed to be expecting more of an explanation.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Does your hair always look like that in the morning?”