After they left to join the other guests for drinks in the living room, Jack neatened the boat, readied the gear, filled the gas tank. He puttered around on the dock feeling about as low as he ever had, then wandered back to the guides’ cabin to feed the dogs. Charlie had beaten him back with his own boatload of clients and was reading on his bunk. When Jack entered the cabin he glanced over. “Five big salmon, two huge pike,” he said around an exaggerated yawn.
Jack scowled. “You win only because I was distracted. I don’t suppose you fed the dogs.”
“Not yet. I was about to.”
“Yeah, right.” Jack fed and watered the dogs, cleaned the dog yard, returned to the cabin and poured himself a hefty shot of whiskey. He drank it sitting on the wall bench outside the cabin, staring bleakly down at the river. Senna would be in the kitchen with Goody, getting supper ready to go, and no doubt Tim was hanging with her. Jack wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey that burned in his stomach or his own bitter jealousy. He didn’t go up to the lodge for a plate of food, but shared a can of beans with Charlie, then pushed away from the table and pulled on his hat. “I’m taking a client out for a couple of hours, then I’m heading for the lake house. I’ll spend the night there and bring George Pilgrim back in the morning. Can you feed the dogs?”
“Sure,” Charlie said, not glancing up from his book.
“I mean, really feed them?”
“I’ll feed them and water them,” he promised.
Earl Hammel was waiting on the dock, fly rod in hand. Not just any fly rod, but a custom made Thomas and Thomas. Everything Hammel wore or carried was of the finest quality. He didn’t talk much as Jack turned the skiff upriver, opening the throttle and picking his way through the rapids, into a broad, calm stretch, then around several bends to a place where ledges hemmed both sides and the current was swift.
“Try under that shallow rock overhang there,” Jack said, throttling back just enough to keep the boat moving slowly forward until he could set anchor.
“That doesn’t look like a very promising spot to me,” Hammel commented, but he stripped off some line and made a cast. Ten minutes later, after a long and tiring fight, he landed and released a twenty-eight-pound Atlantic salmon. Jack continued up the river to a deep holding pool at the foot of another set of rapids, where Hammel hooked into five different big fish in an hour of casting. He was a cool customer, but in the end he couldn’t contain his enthusiasm when he heard the distant howl of a wolf echoing across the black spruce forest.
“By God, this beats Alaska,” he expounded, exhilarated. “Wilder country, better fishing and that lodge is a much finer piece of work than I expected. Look, I know you and the lady are business partners, but man to man, I want to make a deal with you. As I understand it, she wants to sell and you don’t, so here’s the deal. I was going to try to convince you to sell out as well, but I could use a caretaker to watch over the property when I’m not here, that would be a salaried position, of course, and when I am here, I could use a good guide, too, especially when I bring friends and corporate clients. You can run the place any way you want as long as the lodge is at my disposal when I want it to be. I told the lady I’d give her one million dollars, American, for her share of the business, and that includes the lake house, the plane, everything. What do you say?”
“The lady’s name is Senna McCallum, and what did she say?”
“She was helping Tim set up the tents. She said she’d think about it. What about you?”
“I’ll go along with whatever Senna decides to do, but if she decides to sell, you’ll have to buy me out, too, and my price’ll be a whole lot higher.”
It was nearly dark by the time they returned to the lodge. Hammel shook his hand, thanked him, and tried to press three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills into his hand but Jack firmly refused. Afterward he wasn’t sure why he had. He definitely could use the money, but he didn’t want to take anything from Hammel. Not one damn thing. He secured the boat and was doing a preflight on the plane when he remembered he’d left the lake house keys up in the lodge, hanging on one of the key hooks just inside the kitchen door. Dammitall. He’d wanted to sneak away without having to make any explanations, but it was not to be.
He climbed the ramp and the steps that ran up the back porch near the kitchen door, hoping Senna wouldn’t be there. But when he opened the door, not only was Senna there, but so were Earl Hammel and Tim Cromwell, and Jack guessed from Senna’s expression that Hammel might have just upped his offer to buy out her half. Maybe he’d just offered her one and a half million. Her stunned look gave way to a guarded expression as Jack entered the room.
“Sorry to interrupt. I forgot my keys,” he said.
“Ah, there you are,” Hammel said with a satisfied nod. “Good. I was hoping you’d stop in. Perhaps you’d like to join us in this discussion.”
“No, actually, I wouldn’t,” Jack said, reaching for the keys and turning immediately to go.
“Wait!” Senna said. “You can’t just walk out now. This decision has as much to do with you as it does with me.” He met her intense gaze only briefly before turning away again. Even at the end of a long and arduous day, she was as beautiful and full of promise as the dawn. The very thought of a dawn without her in it hurt like hell but there was nothing he could do about that except bow out of the picture as quickly as he could and keep what dignity remained. “I’d like to hear what you have to say about Mr. Hammel’s offer, Jack,” she said quietly. “I’d like to hear it directly from you.”
Jack glanced at her, the pain intensifying. “It’s your decision, Senna. I already told you that. I’m spending the night at the lake house. I’ll pick George Pilgrim up first thing and be back in time to take clients out.” Before she could respond he was out the door, escaping into the gathering darkness, cursing himself for his weakness and cursing all women for making men weak. He heard the kitchen door open behind him before he’d taken four steps.
“Jack?” Senna’s voice, her footsteps quickening on the porch, followed after him. “Damn you, Jack, wait up!”
He descended the ramp in record time, feet hitting the dock hard even as he heard Tim calling out Senna’s name from the porch. He jumped onto the pontoon, wrenched open the plane’s door, and hoisted himself inside, but before he could slam and latch the door Senna pried it back open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, refusing to let her in. “You have an important business deal to discuss and important company to entertain.”
“You can’t just fly off like this,” she shot back. “Doesn’t what we’ve shared here for the past few weeks mean anything to you at all? Please, please, I’m begging you, Jack, let me in. We need to talk.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE FLIGHT TO THE LAKE HOUSE seemed endless, and Senna spent that long hour in silent turmoil trying to compose her thoughts, trying to structure exactly what she was going to say and how she was going to say it, but the moment the pontoons grazed the surface of the lake a sense of panic began to overwhelm her. Jack taxied to the dock, secured the plane, helped her down, all without speaking a word. He started for the lake house while she stumbled along behind him in the gloaming. He unlocked the door and held it open for her. She stepped past him, reaching automatically for the light switch but he caught her hand in his to prevent her from illuminating the moment. They stood in the dim silence, listening to each other’s ragged breathing and gripping each other’s hands tightly. Senna realized that she was trembling all over.
“I didn’t think you’d accept Hammel’s offer of partnership,” she said, her voice choking up around the last word.
“I didn’t,” Jack said. “I didn’t think you’d sell your half to him.”
“I told him I wouldn’t, but then he told me that you told him…”
“I told Hammel it was up to you,” Jack interrupted, his voice hard. “Whatever you wanted to do. A million dollars is a lot of money.”
“He upped the offer to a
million five, and he said you were all for it.” She drew another painful breath. “What do you want, Jack?” Dangerous question. She felt dizzy and breathless as she agonized over what his answer might be. “What did you really tell Hammel?”
“I told him that if you sold your half of the business to him, he’s going to have to buy me out, too. That’s what I told him.”
“You did?” Hope surged in her heart.
“I did.”
“You’d leave this place if I sold out?”
“I would.”
“Hammel hunts wolves in Alaska from airplanes,” Senna burst out.
“I believe it.”
“He thinks his money will buy him anything he wants.”
“That’s because it probably does.”
“Well, it isn’t going to buy our lodge. We’ll tell him no.”
His grip on her hand tightened even more. “Are you sure that’s what you want? It might be a while before another buyer comes along. And what about Tim?”
“What about him?”
“You’re involved with him, aren’t you?”
“No. I mean, I was at one time, but not anymore. Tim’s a dear friend, he always will be, but I don’t love him and I realize now that I never did.” Senna felt the masculine strength of the hand that held hers, a hand that had worked unimaginably hard to make her grandfather’s lodge a reality, a hand far more calloused and blistered than her own. She could barely speak past the fierce surge of emotion that overwhelmed her. “The only man I’ve ever been in love with is you. I don’t want to sell the lodge to Hammel or to anyone else. I want to stay here with you. I want to follow the wolves and the caribou with you. I want to learn to fly your plane and run a team of dogs.” She swallowed past the tight burn in her throat and drew a quivering breath. “I love you, John Hanson, and if you don’t feel the same way about me then I guess it’s my turn to suffer, but I can’t help how I feel.”
There. She’d said it. She listened to the sound of his harsh breathing and waited for his response, her whole body tense with dread and vibrating with hope.
“God almighty, woman,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I thought you knew. I thought you felt the same way. At least I hoped you did. But you never said anything about how you felt, and then when you started talking about being wrong to try and make me stay, I…” He swore beneath his breath and his head lowered as he kissed her very gently, with reverent ardor, effectively ending the conversation. He swept her up in his arms, kicked the door shut behind him, and carried her up the stairs, his kisses intensifying as he ascended. At the top of the stairs he lowered her to her feet and pulled her up against his lean, hard body while she struggled dizzily to catch her breath.
“My room or yours?” he asked, a superfluous question since they never made it to either, and Senna reflected afterward that it was a good thing there was a thick wool rug on the landing. In the early morning hours Jack carried her to his bed and she awoke with her head pillowed on his chest, listening to the strong rhythmic beat of his heart and feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. She nestled closer when she heard the loons out on the lake, calling back and forth in a lonesome, tragic way.
“You’re wrong, you know,” she murmured to them. “Life isn’t always sad and lonely. It can be wild and crazy and wonderful, too.”
And at that very moment, as if on cue, one of the loons gave a wild and crazy laugh.
“I think they’ve struck a pretty good balance,” Jack said.
The rumble of his deep voice surprised her. He slept more lightly than she. As his arms encircled her in a warm, protective embrace Senna smiled with sublime happiness. “I think we have, too,” she said, and kissed him as the loons called the morning in and the Labrador wilderness awakened to the new day.
Later, after sharing a very early pot of coffee out on the porch, Jack helped Senna divide the admiral’s ashes, so that some could be distributed at the lake house that morning, and the rest later at the lodge, the two places he loved the most. It was an emotional experience, and Senna was glad that Jack was a part of it.
IN GOOSE BAY, JACK DROPPED Senna off at Granville’s office while he went to the hospital to fetch George Pilgrim. Granville met her at the door, letter in hand. “Good morning, m’dear, I’m glad you called, and I don’t mind a bit opening the office early. Come in and I’ll fix us a some tea.” He handed her the sealed envelope and motioned her inside, where he set about heating the pot of water on a hot plate and readying the mugs. “I’m sorry about the letter, took me forever to find it because it wasn’t here in the office, y’see. Your grandfather gave it to me at the pub where we shared our last drink together, and I put it in the pocket of my overcoat because it was a nasty, rainy day. I wore that coat again just three days ago, and found the letter right where I put it. Quite a relief, too. I was beginning to think it was gone for good. Another thing, the life insurance company sent along this mail. I hope it’s the payment on your grandfather’s policy. How are things out at the lodge?”
Senna tucked the letter inside her purse to read in private, then opened the documents from the insurance company. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the check. The money was more than enough to cover all the outstanding bills and pay the employees for the summer. She signed all the appropriate papers while she filled Granville in on all that had happened in the past few weeks. Listening to herself speak she was filled with a sense of wonder at how life could lead a person down such strange and unexpected paths. That her grandfather’s death could, just by coincidence, unite her with the man she would spend the rest of her life with was a humbling thought. She relayed none of her innermost feelings to Granville, but shook his hand with genuine fondness when she took her leave.
“You’ll be going back to Maine soon, I expect,” he said as he walked her to the door.
“Only temporarily, until I can pack my things and move back here. I’m staying, Mr. Granville. I’ve decided to remain business partners with Jack. We’re going to run the lodge together.”
He seemed quite surprised by this, and pleased. “I’d like to see that lodge someday. The admiral talked about it so much. Maybe when the busy season’s over, I could get a few days away….”
“We’d love to have you come.”
Jack was waiting in Goody’s car and another man sat in the back seat, an older man who looked as fit as Goody, if a bit more worn by the ravages of his recent surgery. “George Pilgrim, Senna McCallum,” Jack said.
She reached over the seat to shake his hand. “I’m so glad you’ll be staying with us, George.”
“I won’t be much help to you, y’see, not at first. But when I gets me strength back, I’ll be taking the byes fishin’, and showin’ ’em what Labrador has to offer.” He spoke the words with a gruff and almost desperate affirmation of his own worth, in spite of everything that had transpired to trip him up in his twilight years.
“Don’t worry about the fishing just yet, just concentrate on getting well,” Senna said.
“Oh, it won’t take me long to come to the front. All the medicine I needs is out there,” George said, indicating the wild spaces beyond the tight clutch of civilization. “Jack tells me that Goody Stewart is at the lodge, too. That’s good to hear. She’s a grand gal, that Goody. We raised some hell together back in the old schoolhouse days. It’ll be fine to see her again after all these years.”
Back at the plane they loaded some last-minute groceries and supplies into the back and made sure George had everything he needed. George was settled in the passenger compartment and Senna was about to climb aboard when Jack’s hand on her arm stilled her. She turned toward him, eyebrows raised.
“Something to think about,” he began, looking suddenly serious.
“Don’t worry.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll take care of everything when we get back. I’ll tell Hammel we’ve decided not to sell, but that he’s welcome to come back any
time and enjoy the world-class fishery at the Wolf River Lodge.”
Jack took her shoulders firmly in his hands and his keen gaze held her captive. “That’s my brave and courageous woman, but that’s not exactly what I was talking about,” he said.
“Oh?” Senna looked up at him, puzzled. “Just what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about us. You and me. I’m talking about the future. Twenty, thirty, forty years from now. I’m talking about the possibility of the first wedding held at the lodge being ours. Yours and mine.”
Senna’s heart thumped hard once and then skipped two full beats as she grappled with this unexpected statement. “I think that sounds like a fine idea,” she said. “When?”
“The lodge is dead empty the second week in September. Betcha we could fill it with wedding guests.”
“I bet we could, too,” Senna said as his arms closed around her.
“Is that a yes, wedding planner?”
“That’s a definite yes, but only if you promise never to call me that again.”
“It’s a deal, but only if you promise to be the one who plans our wedding.”
Senna wondered, as he bent his head to kiss her, how she could have ever doubted Jack’s feelings for her and what George Pilgrim must think about all these last-minute goings-on.
But when they finally climbed into the plane, he was beaming.
SENNA REACHED FOR HER grandfather’s letter as soon as they were airborne, having waited for this private hour of flight time to come to grips with all that it might portend. She broke the seal on the official envelope and drew forth the single sheet of paper, glad to see that the letter was written in the admiral’s own hand but dismayed that the message was so short. She’d been hoping for a long explanatory treatise, and had received but three brief sentences. Foolish of her, to think the admiral might loosen up just because he was dying. His handwriting was tight, formal and regimented, and she felt a painful pang as she began to read, noting the date and realizing that he’d written it just two days before he died.
Sharing Spaces Page 25
