Alaskan Hideaway

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Alaskan Hideaway Page 10

by Beth Carpenter


  “Aww.”

  “Too many treats could make her sick. Promise?”

  Rory gave a dramatic sigh. “I promise.”

  Satisfied, Ursula turned and led him through the back door to the generator. An open toolbox lay nearby. She aimed a powerful flashlight at the engine while he bent over to inspect it. It was trying to start but he couldn’t get it to catch, and working in the cold and dark wasn’t helping. Ursula stamped her feet. Mac’s felt frozen, too.

  He straightened. “It might be a blocked fuel supply line. Do you have any spray lubricant?”

  “I think so. Come with me and tell me what you need.”

  He followed her into the still-warm garage. The can of lube he needed was right in front on one of the shelves, although he was almost tempted to pretend he couldn’t find it just to enjoy a few more minutes of warmth. But the sooner they finished, the sooner they could return to the fire. He grabbed the can.

  Twenty minutes later, Mac had cleared the line and reassembled the generator. “Here goes nothing.”

  “Fingers crossed.” Ursula bounced on her toes as she waited.

  Mac pressed the starter, and the engine roared to life. He grinned and turned toward Ursula. She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Mac!”

  Considering how many layers of clothes they were both wearing, there was no way he could have felt her body heat, and yet the hug warmed him. She stepped back, still beaming. “You’re a miracle worker.”

  He tipped an imaginary hat. “Aw, shucks, ma’am.”

  She laughed. “Come on, cowboy. I left a pot of beef stew simmering on the stove, and you’ve certainly earned your keep tonight. Let’s go in where it’s warm.”

  They picked up the tools and dropped them off in the garage on their way into the house, where they found Rory and Blossom engaged in a rowdy game involving a tennis ball and a lot of running and giggling. The flickering light of the fire and candles created shadows where the girl and dog would hide and then reappear into the light. Blossom had the ball in her mouth, but it wasn’t clear who was chasing whom.

  Ursula stopped with her eyebrows raised and watched as they dashed under one of the dining tables in the great room. Mac expected her to call a halt to the roughhousing, but she just laughed and removed a glass bowl from the buffet table. “I’d better take this to the kitchen for safekeeping. You and Blossom need to run off your energy, because supper’s in fifteen minutes, okay?”

  “’Kay.” Rory vaulted over the couch. Blossom, who wasn’t allowed on furniture, barked and ran around to meet her on the other side. Ursula smiled and shook her head. “Come on, Mac. Let’s have a glass of that Bordeaux while the wild things play in here.”

  He followed her to the kitchen, where she put away the bowl and stirred the soup while he poured the wine. He handed her a glass, and she clinked it against his. “To good neighbors.”

  “Good neighbors, indeed.” Mac sipped his wine.

  In the other room, a loud bark was followed by a squeal and more giggles. Ursula winced. “We usually have rules about running in the house, but since I don’t have guests and she’s been shut in all day long, I figure today is an exception.”

  “It’s a snow day. Everyone knows the usual rules don’t apply to snow days.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  The stew was excellent. Of course, based on his experience with Ursula’s cooking, Mac had expected nothing less. She served it with crusty bread that was probably homemade and more cookies for dessert. He fed the dog and insisted on helping wash the dishes, while Ursula dried and Rory wiped the table.

  Rory came to tug on Ursula’s hand. “Can I watch a movie?”

  “No. Remember I told you no television when we’re on generator power.”

  “Then what are we gonna do?”

  “Do you have a deck of cards?” Mac asked.

  “Sure.” Ursula found a deck in one of the kitchen drawers.

  Mac sat at the table. “I know a game called concentration.”

  “What’s that?” Rory asked.

  “I’ll show you.” Mac shuffled and laid out the cards in rows. “Turn over two cards. If they match, you get to keep them. If they don’t, turn them back over. The person with the most matches wins. You go first.”

  Rory turned over a queen and a five. “They don’t match.”

  “That’s okay,” Mac said. “Remember where you saw them and turn them back over.”

  Ursula came to sit with them. “May I play?”

  “Of course.” Mac smiled. “You’re next.”

  Ursula turned over a two and a seven. Mac turned an ace and a queen. “No match.”

  Rory bounced in her seat. She could hardly wait for him to turn the cards back over before she flipped the queen she’d uncovered and the one Mac had turned. “I got a match!”

  “Good job. Since you made a match, you get to go again.”

  They played on, the tip of Rory’s tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth as she memorized the positions of all the cards. At the end of the game, she was the clear winner with fourteen matches. Ursula had four and Mac had eight.

  “Wow.” Ursula shuffled the cards. “I don’t know how you remembered where all those cards were hiding.”

  Mac smiled. “Amazing, isn’t it? Andi used to beat me regularly when she was this age. Must be something about a young mind and visual memory.”

  “Who’s Andi?” Rory asked. “You talked about her before.”

  Mac’s heart tightened, but he kept smiling for Rory’s sake. “My daughter, Andrea. Everyone called her Andi for short.”

  “Rory is short for Aurora,” Rory explained.

  “Aurora is a beautiful name.”

  “Does Andi live in your house?”

  “No.” Mac sucked in a slow breath. Ursula was watching him with sympathetic eyes. “Andi died.”

  The corners of Rory’s mouth turned downward. “Do you miss her?”

  Mac nodded. “Every day.”

  “My mom and dad died, too. And my grandma.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I miss them, too.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Ursula says it’s okay to be sad sometimes because you miss people, but they don’t want you to be sad all the time. They want you to be happy, ’cause they love you. Laughing makes angels happy. And even though you can’t see them anymore, you can still love each other.”

  “Yes.” It was all Mac could choke out.

  Rory slipped off her chair and came to hug him. “We can be sad together.”

  Tears now flowed freely from Ursula’s eyes. Blossom got up from the rug where she’d been lying to push her head between Mac and Rory and lick Rory’s tears away. Rory giggled. “Blossom says we should stop crying.”

  Mac stroked the dog’s head. “She’s probably right.”

  Ursula reached for a box of tissues and everyone took a moment to blow noses and wipe cheeks. Rory settled into her chair at the table. “Do you want to play again?”

  “Okay.” Mac began laying out the cards. “But this time I’m going to win.”

  * * *

  AFTER THE NEXT GAME, which Mac did indeed win, Ursula flicked on a battery-powered radio to check on the news. Crews were still working to clear the avalanche, and the road into Seward was not yet plowed. School was cancelled.

  Rory cheered. “No school tomorrow, so I can sleep.”

  “I guess so.” Interesting. Ursula hadn’t noticed Rory was particularly fond of sleeping in.

  “That means I get to stay up late.”

  Ah, that’s where this was going. “Why do you want to stay up late?”

  “I want to keep playing with Mac.”

  Well, why not? They both seemed to be enjoying it, and goodness knows, they deserved a little fun. Ursula smiled. “
I guess we can play a little longer. I’m starting to get the hang of it now. Maybe I’ll win this round.”

  She didn’t, but it didn’t matter. They paused the card game long enough to pop popcorn in the fire, and then Rory and Mac duked it out for the title of Concentration Champion. At the end of the night, Mac had won two, Rory three, and Ursula came in second once. By that time, Rory was about to fall asleep in her chair.

  “Bedtime,” Ursula announced. “You can skip a bath tonight, but you need to brush your teeth.”

  Rory managed to change into her pajamas and take a few swipes with her toothbrush before Ursula tucked her into bed. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. She looked like an angel, blond hair shimmering in the nightlight, her mouth relaxed in a small smile. Peaceful.

  Ursula returned to the kitchen, where Mac had put away the cards and was staring out the window. “Is she asleep?” He spoke without turning.

  “Yes. She’s resting easy tonight.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset her earlier, talking about Andi.”

  “You didn’t. In fact, I think she found it comforting to realize she wasn’t the only one who’s lost family. It makes her feel less alone.”

  He continued to stare into the darkness. Ursula boiled the kettle. “I’m having a cup of chamomile tea. Want some?”

  “No, thanks. Not a fan of herbal teas.” Mac turned toward her. “How did Rory end up here, with you?”

  Ursula added her teabag to the cup and settled at the table. “It’s a long story.”

  Mac sat down in the chair next to hers and leaned forward. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Well, it started a little over eight years ago, when I was still living in Anchorage. Rory’s grandmother Gen Houston was a good friend of mine. She lived in Soldotna, but was in Anchorage having lunch with me when her son, Coby, called to say his wife, Kendall, was having their baby a little earlier than expected. We went straight to the hospital.” She smiled. “Rory was beautiful, even as a newborn.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “There were complications, with an emergency C-section and ultimately Kendall had to have more surgery. They needed lots of help while Kendall recovered, so Gen and I took turns with baby care and housework. Coby couldn’t afford to spend too much time away from work. They’d just opened a ski store a few months before.”

  “No wonder they made you godmother.”

  “Gen passed away a couple of years ago, so I’d sort of been filling the role of Rory’s grandmother, too.”

  Mac frowned in concentration. “Coby Houston. Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Do you follow winter sports?”

  “A Nordic skier, right? Seems like he did some human-interest stuff about Alaska. That would have been about ten years ago.”

  Ursula nodded. “He was on the team that took bronze in the sprint.”

  “Kendall—not Kendall Normand? The freestyle skier?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I remember her. Amazing talent in the aerials. She could almost fly. As I recall, after she won the medal,, she was on every talk show for a while and appeared in a commercial or two. Then it seemed like she dropped out of sight.”

  “Yes. When she got pregnant, they decided to move to Alaska and settle down, to try to have a normal life.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Faulty furnace. They’d been living in an apartment but decided they wanted more room and a yard for Rory, so they moved into a rental house. It was old but had a lot of square footage. They didn’t realize anything was amiss for the first month. Then the first real cold snap came along.”

  Ursula’s throat tightened, thinking about what came next. A happy family, gone overnight. She took a swallow of tea to clear her throat before continuing. “Thank goodness Rory had heard a cat crying outside. She’d opened the window and it got stuck so she couldn’t get it closed. That’s what saved her.”

  Mac’s face looked thunderous. “Didn’t the landlord have the furnace checked? And put in carbon monoxide detectors?”

  “Apparently not.” Ursula shook her head. “His insurance paid a settlement. It’s in an account for Rory when she’s ready to go to college. Doesn’t bring her family back, though.”

  “Didn’t Kendall have family? I seem to remember her parents getting quite a bit of airtime during the big competitions.”

  “Parents.” Ursula scoffed. “Yes. Kendall’s parents were milking her success for everything it was worth. After she retired, they weren’t interested anymore.” Once, when she and Kendall were folding laundry together, Kendall had told her the story. “Her mother was a figure skater. Almost world championship caliber. Almost. She was convinced she would have been the best if only her parents had started her earlier and given her better training. She married a wealthy man, and from the time Kendall was born, her mother was grooming her to be a winner.

  “When she was two, they had Kendall on the ice and learning gymnastics. They entered her in skating competitions as soon as she qualified. She was good, but not good enough. She would never be a world-class skater. Then they discovered she had talent for skiing. Freestyle was just taking off, and Kendall’s mother was shrewd enough to see an opportunity there. So they moved to Colorado where Kendall could train.”

  “And she grew up to medal.”

  “She got silver. Not good enough for her mother. She informed Kendall she was to devote the next four years to perfecting herself. But for once, Kendall rebelled. She started dating this Nordic skier she’d met at the competition. Coby adored her. I think it was the first time in her life Kendall had ever experienced unconditional love.”

  “And she felt the same about him?”

  “She did, but her mother was pressuring her to break it off with him and focus on her skiing. Then Kendall got pregnant. She and Coby decided they wanted their child to have a normal childhood, so they married and moved to Alaska where he’d grown up. Kendall’s parents were furious. They squawked and threatened, and finally disowned her. They’ve never even seen Rory.”

  “Even after the accident?”

  “They sent a lawyer, but Coby and Kendall had wills appointing Rory’s grandmother Gen as guardian, and me as contingent. They didn’t try to dispute it.”

  “I can’t imagine they why wouldn’t want to see their own granddaughter.”

  “I can’t either. The only explanation I can come up with is to their way of thinking, she’s what kept Kendall from going after that top podium.”

  “It sounds as though Rory’s better off without them in her life.” Mac laid his hand over Ursula’s. “I’m glad she has you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MAC WOKE AND gazed upward into the darkness, debating whether to get up or burrow deeper into the comfortable bed and go back to sleep. The curtains at the window weren’t quite closed, but no light showed through. He’d eaten well, enjoyed his evening with Ursula and Rory and slept through the night—simple pleasures he used to take for granted. He pressed the button to light up the face of his watch. Six twenty.

  Blossom roused herself from the pallet Ursula had made for her at the foot of the bed, her tags tinkling, and padded over to Mac, taking the decision out of his hands. He greeted the dog, did his push-ups, got dressed and made his way to the kitchen, hoping for coffee to sip while he let the dog outside. When he opened the door, he spotted Ursula standing on a wooden chair, taking something from the top shelf of her kitchen cabinet. She spun around at the sound, dropping whatever she had in her hand. It hit the floor and scattered. The chair teetered.

  Mac rushed forward and grabbed her around the waist. “I’ve got you, darlin’.” He set her gently on her feet on the kitchen floor.

  “Thanks, cowboy.” She gazed up at him, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

  Maybe it was because his
hands were still around her waist. Maybe it was the look of trust on her face. Whatever it was, some long-buried instinct kicked in and he bent to kiss her lips. After the briefest hesitation, she responded, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

  It felt good, natural, and he realized he’d wanted this for some time now. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His heart pumped as though he was on push-up number forty-nine. Finally, he lifted his head. Ursula traced her fingers along his jaw. Blossom nudged his leg but he ignored her to study the warm light in Ursula’s eyes. Hazel eyes, he realized, green but with intriguing brown and golden speckles, like flecks of mica.

  But suddenly, Ursula blinked and stepped back. She bent to gather up the batteries that had rolled across the floor. “I don’t know what I was thinking, climbing on that chair. I was using the step stool upstairs yesterday and didn’t want to take the trouble to go up and get it. Stupid of me. This would be the absolute worst time for a broken leg. They’d probably have to send the helicopter. Maybe I should buy another step stool for upstairs...”

  Mac stood where he was, absently stroking the dog’s head as he watched Ursula flutter around the kitchen. Apparently, they were going to pretend that kiss never happened. Part of him was relieved. This wasn’t something he’d planned, and he didn’t have a follow-up. Ursula was his neighbor and his friend, and he wanted to keep it that way. He shouldn’t be complicating their relationship.

  But a perverse part of him was annoyed. How could she brush off that kiss like that as if it were negligible? Like he’d accidentally bumped her hand when they reached for something at the same time. Didn’t she feel what he’d felt?

  She set the batteries on the counter and turned, her chatter finally trailing off as she met his eyes. Even in this light, he could see that her cheeks were flushed, and she seemed to be breathing more rapidly than usual. She wasn’t unaffected after all. An almost shy smile was blooming when the kitchen door opened.

  “Where’s Blossom?” Rory galloped into the room, still in her pajamas, and slid across the floor in her fuzzy socks. Blossom almost knocked him down in her hurry to greet Rory.

 

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