She thought back about all the things that made Tommy special. “He was smart. He liked to look at a situation from different angles, to come up with original solutions to problems. And he was kind. The sort of man who stops to help stranded motorists and takes in stray dogs.” She stared at the wall, picturing Tommy’s face. “But mostly it was because of the way he loved me. Every time he walked into a room where I was, his eyes would seek me out and he would smile, as if seeing me was the highlight of his day. Losing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever survived.” She turned her eyes to Mac. “But you know what I’m talking about. You lost your wife, as well. Is that why you never remarried?”
“It wasn’t the same.”
“No. You had a baby daughter. That makes it doubly tragic.”
“It was tragic. But not for the same reason.” Mac sighed. “Just the opposite, really.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was in the navy, assigned to an aircraft carrier, but stateside at the time. Carla and I had been dating for a few months, but the relationship was nearing its expiration date. She was bored, and frankly, so was I. But I was two months away from shipping out, and she was keeping me on the line until she could find a better prospect. Then she discovered she was pregnant.”
“Oh, dear.”
He gave a wry smile. “That’s not exactly the way she worded it. Motherhood was the last thing she had in mind, but I persuaded her to marry me, so she could live on base and get medical care, even while I was away. I did my best to be a good husband for those two months but...” He shrugged. “We lived together in reasonable harmony until my unit shipped out. Six months later, the navy informed me I was a father.”
He set down his spoon before he continued. “My wife sent a picture taken in the hospital. She was smiling, holding this tiny bundle with a red face and a swatch of dark hair. Carla looked so happy. Three months later, she left the baby with a sitter and drove off a bridge.”
“Oh, no. Was it an accident or...?”
He shrugged. “Nobody knows for sure, but when I went home I discovered she’d been suffering from severe postpartum depression. And I’d had no idea.”
“So sad.”
“My fault.”
“How could it be your fault?”
“I convinced her to have the baby. Convinced her to marry a man she didn’t love. I swore to love and honor her, but I wasn’t there when she needed me.”
“You were on duty.”
“Yes, but I still should have known. We wrote letters, talked on the phone when we could. I should have realized something was wrong.”
Ursula shook her head. “So you’d never met your daughter in person?”
“Not until I came home for her mother’s funeral.” He looked down at the table. “The first time I saw that little face, I fell in love. I got a hardship discharge so I could care for her.”
“Is that when you started writing?”
“No, I’d been writing for years. I’d had a few short stories published while I was in the service and written two novels that will never see the light of day. Once I left the navy, I worked the security desk for a big office building. I took the night shift, which allowed me to be with Andi during the day and gave me time to write. It was two years before I sold my first book, five before I quit that job and took up writing full-time, when Andi started kindergarten.”
The door opened and Rory ran into the room, waving a paper. “I finished. Can I play with Blossom now?”
Ursula held out her hand. “Let me check it over while you give Blossom a dog biscuit and tell her good-night. It’s time for your bath and bed.”
Mac followed Rory to the dog-shaped cookie jar. “Why do you have dog treats? You don’t have a dog, do you?”
“I allow guests to bring dogs if they like, and sometimes dog-sit for my son.”
“Sam’s dog, Kimmik, is a chocolate Lab. He’s not really made of chocolate, though. He’s just brown,” Rory explained as she let Blossom take the biscuit from her hand. “He likes to play fetch.”
“So does Blossom. Maybe after snowshoeing tomorrow, you can throw the ball for her.”
“Okay!”
“Good job on the math worksheet.” Ursula put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and squeezed. “Bath time now. Say good-night to Mac and Blossom.”
“Good night.” She hugged Blossom once more and trotted off to the bathroom without further argument. Miracles never ceased.
“I guess we’d better head home, as well,” Mac said. “Thank you for making me meat loaf.”
“You’re welcome.” Ursula had packed up the rest of the meat loaf and another helping of dessert while Mac was talking with Rory. “Here’s lunch tomorrow.”
“Mmm. The only thing I like better than meat loaf is meat-loaf sandwiches, but I feel bad taking all the leftovers.” He grinned. “Or am I not allowed to feel guilty about that, either?”
She laughed. “I realize guilt is a hot button for me. It’s just that I’ve seen guilt drag people down and destroy families.”
“Surely guilt is positive. It might be a good thing for society if people felt more guilt about their misdeeds.”
“Yes, if someone has been cruel or negligent, they should feel guilty. But you had every right to close the gates on your property. I’m the one who pushed for something I wasn’t entitled to. If anyone should feel guilty, it’s me.”
Mac shook his head. “How’s this? I saw how hard you work and how you take care of people, and I wanted to help, so I found a way to open the trail. Just a neighbor helping a neighbor. Okay?”
Ursula smiled. “Okay. This neighbor thanks you.”
“Oh, and speaking of neighbors,” Mac dug a card from his pocket, “here’s my cell phone number. You know, in case you need to call on a neighbor.”
“Thanks.”
Mac shrugged on his coat and they stepped onto the porch. “It’s nice out here, tonight. Not so cold.”
Ursula gazed up at the sky. “No stars. It’s getting ready to snow.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked on something. “Hmm, the forecast is for seven or eight inches, starting around midnight. Last I heard, they thought this storm would miss us. We might have to delay that snowshoe outing. You probably shouldn’t plan on going anywhere tomorrow.”
“Why? Won’t they plow the highway?”
“Eventually. But with that much snow, it might take a while. Better to be prepared.”
He hefted the plastic box. “Meat loaf for sandwiches and dessert. I’m good. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
AS IT TURNED OUT, the meteorologists were wrong. The promised eight inches of snow had already grown to ten by the time Mac let Blossom out the next morning. It had topped a foot and was still coming down when Mac went out to shovel the steps and the path to the garage. Shoveling while it snowed was bound to be an exercise in futility but he figured he’d better get a jump on it before it got too deep to handle. He’d wait until it stopped to fire up the snowblower and clear the driveway.
He added a smear of horseradish sauce to his meat-loaf sandwich for lunch and enjoyed it so much he made and consumed another. He’d earned it, shoveling all that snow.
Two hours later, the steps had disappeared under another six inches, and Mac was strapping on Blossom’s coat so they could go out to shovel again when the lights blinked and went out. Great. At least he had the woodstove to keep the house warm, although that might mean sleeping on the couch.
He finished another round of shoveling. The snow had stopped, but the electricity was still out. With no microwave to nuke a frozen dinner, that probably meant another meat-loaf sandwich. He could think of worst fates.
Now for a cup of coffee. Oh, right—no electric coffee maker. He weighed his options. The snowplow hadn’t been by, so
he wasn’t getting into Seward. The woodstove didn’t get hot enough to boil water. He hadn’t brought camping equipment along so he didn’t have a portable stove. Or a barbecue grill. What was he thinking, moving to the middle of nowhere without an emergency backup plan? Obviously, he wasn’t thinking.
Ursula seemed like someone who would own a spare camp stove, although he hated to impose on her again. But they were neighbors, and they’d agreed that neighbors help each other. Blossom nudged his hand, reminding him her afternoon dog biscuit shouldn’t depend on his ability to make coffee. He tossed her the treat. “So what do you think? Should we call Ursula?”
At the mention of Ursula’s name, Blossom wagged her tail. Mac dialed the number. The phone rang several times and he was getting ready to leave a message when Ursula’s voice came on the line.
“Mac?” She sounded flustered.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“I was just about to call you. Your power’s out, too, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m having some trouble here. Do you know anything about engines?”
“A little.” Having grown up on a ranch, Mac had worked on truck and tractor engines, but it had been a long time since he’d gotten grease under his nails. “Why? Are you going somewhere?”
“Not in this snow. No, I’m having trouble getting the emergency generator started. Could I possibly impose on you to take a look?”
“Sure, I could do that.”
“Thank you.” He could hear the relief in her voice. “The shortest way here is along the trail with snowshoes.”
“Rory hasn’t given me my snowshoe lesson.”
She laughed. “It’s not hard. Just strap them on your boots and take it slow. Oh, wait. Why were you calling in the first place?”
“I was hoping to cadge a cup of coffee, or maybe a spare camp stove,” Mac admitted.
“I cook with propane, so I’ll make you coffee and then you can borrow my camp stove. Better yet, bring Blossom and your stuff and plan to stay over. Your cabin is all-electric. I have a propane furnace, so if we can get the generator going to run the fan, we’ll have heat here.”
His kitchen was already growing dark. He was tempted. “Do you have room?”
“Plenty. I had one reservation and they cancelled. I don’t know if you heard, but there’s an avalanche blocking the Seward highway, so nobody’s getting to or from Anchorage for a while. Power lines are down all over, so they might not get to us for a couple of days.”
“I hadn’t heard. Okay, I’ll bank the fire so the plumbing doesn’t freeze and be over there as soon as I can make it.”
* * *
ONCE SHE KNEW Mac was on the way, Ursula abandoned the dead generator and returned to the house. Rory was where she’d left her, drawing pictures at the kitchen table by the light of a battery lantern, but she looked relieved when Ursula walked in.
Ursula checked the heat under the stockpot simmering at the back of the stove. “I can’t make the generator work, but Mac said he’d come over and see if he can get it running.”
Rory added a tail to the horse she’d drawn. “You know, Mac’s nice. He’s not a grouch at all.”
“I agree. Do you want to help me get the house ready for the generator?”
Together they made the rounds, turning off or unplugging all the electronics and most of the lights. The generator was powerful enough to power the furnace fan, refrigerator and freezer, but not a lot extra, and Ursula had been warned power fluctuations were bad for televisions and computers. She’d already explained to Rory that the television wouldn’t be available even when they got the generator started. That is if Mac could get it running.
Rory wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s getting cold in here.”
“Let’s go put on some more clothes.” Once they’d bundled up with thermal underwear and extra sweaters, they carried in a load of logs from the woodpile, and Ursula soon had a blaze going in the great room fireplace. Van Gogh appeared from wherever he had been hiding and curled up on Rory’s lap on the rug in front of the fire. Ursula switched on several battery candles and scattered them around the room.
“There. Now we’re nice and cozy. Maybe we’ll make popcorn in the fireplace tonight.” Rory seemed to be buying Ursula’s attempt at making this all a fun adventure. In truth, she was worried. They weren’t going to freeze, but if they couldn’t get the generator going they might be in for an uncomfortable few days. She could only hope Mac knew more about diesel generators than she did. She had the generator checked every autumn before the snow fell, but this year the guy who usually did it was out of state on some family emergency when she’d called, and she’d forgotten to follow up.
Mac should arrive soon. She left Rory by the fire and went to the kitchen to light the burner under the teakettle and dig a French press from the back of the cabinet. While waiting for the water to boil, she scrounged a motley collection of candles from the pantry and set them on a tray to distribute around the inn, just in case.
She heard Rory running toward the front door. Before Ursula could make it from the kitchen, Rory had already let Mac inside and was brushing sticky snow from Blossom’s coat all over the entryway rug. Ursula didn’t care; she was just thrilled to see them.
“You made it.” She was surprised at the relief she felt. She had no guests to worry about, and it wasn’t as though she and Rory would die without electricity. They could stay warm by the fire and had ice chests to keep the refrigerated food cold. If necessary, she could put the frozen food outside until power returned and melt snow on the stove if the pipes froze. But it still felt good to have an ally. “You must have figured out the snowshoes.”
“I did.” Mac puffed. “Snowshoeing is hard work. Between that and shoveling, I’ve had my workout today. Now, where’s this generator?”
“In the back, but come in first for that cup of coffee. The kettle’s on. Once you’ve warmed up, we can take a look.”
“I didn’t have to go to school today,” Rory told Mac. “It’s a snow day. But Ursula said we have to wait to go snowshoeing ’cause she had a bunch of stuff she had to do with all the snow and no ’lectricity. I helped her carry the wood for the fire.”
“Good for you. Ursula’s lucky to have you.” He and the dog followed Rory toward the hearth.
Ursula hung their coats and his backpack on hooks near the fire to dry. “Have a seat. I’ll bring the coffee in here. It’s the warmest spot in the house. Rory, do you want hot chocolate?”
“With marshmallows?”
“Of course. Mac, coffee or hot chocolate?”
“Coffee for me, but are you sure you don’t want to get the generator going first?”
“It can wait a few more minutes.” Besides, if she didn’t stop and regain her composure first, she might just take a wrench and beat the stupid thing into a modern sculpture. “I’ll be right back.”
She arranged a tray with mugs of coffee, Rory’s hot chocolate and a plate of oatmeal cookies she’d taken from the freezer that morning and carried it to the great room.
Mac cleared space on the coffee table for her to set the tray. He picked up a mug and took a sip. “Thank you. I needed this.”
“Have a cookie. They’re cranberry oatmeal with almonds.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Blossom had stretched out on the hearthrug, with Van Gogh pressed against her belly like a cat-skin blanket. Rory sat beside them, stroking the dog’s head. Blossom opened one eye to watch Mac eat the cookie, but apparently deciding he wasn’t likely to share, she shut it again.
Ursula handed Rory her cup and a cookie before sinking into one of the chairs. She sipped her coffee, feeling some of the tension slip away as she watched Mac devour another cookie. He looked right at home in the firelight, wearing a wool shirt in a classic black-and-yellow plaid.
&nb
sp; “Is that your family tartan?”
“Aye, ’tis the Macleod dress.” Mac grinned. “Are you Scottish?” He handed her the plate and she took a cookie.
“No, just an admirer of beautiful fabric. Do you have a kilt, as well?”
He laughed. “I don’t. Andi tried to talk me into getting one when we visited Scotland, but I just can’t see myself in a skirt.”
“When did you go to Scotland?” She nibbled on the cookie.
“The summer after Andi’s senior year of high school. I wanted to see our ancestral home. She wanted to meet cute Scottish boys. We compromised.”
“Oh?” She had a feeling Mac would not have been a permissive father, especially when it came to boys. “How?”
“She agreed to accompany me to castles and museums, and I agreed not to accompany her to a cèilidh she attended with a distant cousin. And she didn’t have to taste haggis.”
“Sounds like a fair deal to me.”
“What’s haggis?” Rory asked.
“Oatmeal and sheep liver cooked in sheep stomach.”
“Yuck!” Rory shuddered. “Did you eat it?”
“I did.” Mac grinned. “It’s not quite as bad as it sounds.”
Ursula laughed. “I don’t see how it could be.”
Mac stood and reached for his coat. “Well, now that I’m fortified with caffeine and cookies, let’s take a look at that generator.”
* * *
MAC ZIPPED HIS coat while Ursula gave careful instructions forbidding Rory to touch the doors of the fireplace. “You can dog-sit Blossom while Mac and I are outside, okay?”
“Okay.” Rory set her empty cup on the table and draped herself across Blossom with her arms around the dog’s neck. Blossom thumped her tail against the ground.
“Thanks.” Mac smiled as Blossom raised her ears as if considering whether she should beg to go with him, and then lowered them again, content to stay by the fire with Rory.
They were halfway to the door when Ursula paused and looked back. “Rory, no treats for the dog while we’re gone.”
Alaskan Hideaway Page 9
