* * *
Christian walked back to his house later that afternoon, his hands buried in his pockets. His spirits dragged along the road like an untied shoelace, threatening to trip him.
Mariah leaving. Again. Only this time she was leaving more than Midnight Sons. She was leaving Hard Luck. Leaving Alaska. Leaving him.
Libby Bozeman. He was sure she’d work out fine, but damn it all, he wanted Mariah. At least this time she’d agreed to stay until Libby could be properly trained.
Even Sawyer seemed to think it was best to let Mariah go. Christian had approached his brother the minute the two of them were alone, and Sawyer had shrugged and reminded him that they couldn’t force her to stay.
When he reached his house, Christian noticed that Scott and Ronny Gold were playing catch with Eagle Catcher in the front yard of Sawyer’s home across the street. Depressed, he sank onto the top porch step, watching the boys’ carefree play. Scott and Ronny tossed the stick and Eagle Catcher dashed across the yard to retrieve it.
Christian didn’t know how long he sat there taking in the scene. Soon it would be dinnertime, but he didn’t have the energy to cook, nor did he feel like joining Ben at the café. The fact was, he didn’t seem all that hungry.
Susan stuck her head out the door of their house and shouted something Christian couldn’t hear. Ronny Gold took off running, but Scott stayed behind with his dog.
Christian envied Sawyer. It had all been so easy for him. Abbey arrived with the kids, and within a month they’d decided to marry. No muss. No fuss. Easy as pie.
“Hiya, Uncle Christian.”
Caught up in his misery, Christian hadn’t noticed Scott’s approach. Now the ten-year-old was standing on the other side of the fence.
“Hello, Scott.”
“What’s the matter? You don’t look so good.”
Christian couldn’t think of a way to explain his complicated, confused emotions to a child. He couldn’t even explain them to himself.
Scott let himself into the yard and sat down on the step below Christian. “Does this have to do with Mariah leaving?”
Christian’s eyes widened before he realized Scott must’ve heard Sawyer talking about the new secretary to Abbey. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“You want me to give you some advice on romance? I’m good at that.”
“You?”
“Sure. I helped Sawyer before he asked my mom to marry him. I told him about those bath-oil beads that melt in the water.”
Christian gently patted the boy’s shoulder. It wouldn’t be that simple with Mariah. Bath-oil beads weren’t going to help this situation.
“Matt Caldwell asked me for advice on how to get Karen back, too.”
“He did?” That surprised Christian. He’d always assumed Matt’s reconciliation with his pregnant wife had been quick and effortless. She hadn’t been back in Hard Luck long before they’d remarried. Every time he saw them lately, they behaved like newlyweds. It was hard to believe they’d ever been divorced.
“Matt bought an ice-cream bar for me,” Scott told him. “My advice must’ve worked, ’cause he and Karen got married right after that.”
“Good for you.”
Scott leaned his back against the step. “You need any advice, I’ll help you, too.”
“Thanks for the offer, but what’s going on between me and Mariah is different.”
Scott cocked his head to look up at Christian. “How’s that?”
“I really like Mariah.”
“But you aren’t sure you love her,” Scott finished for him.
“Yes,” Christian said, straightening. Scott’s insight surprised him.
“I know what you mean,” the boy said, sounding mature beyond his years. “It’s like me and Chrissie Harris.”
It took Christian a moment to remember that Chrissie was Mitch Harris’s daughter. Mitch and Bethany had married that summer. “What about you and Chrissie?” he asked.
“Well,” Scott said, propping his elbows on the step above. His look was thoughtful. “She’s my little sister’s best friend and she can be a real pest.”
Clearly the boy knew women.
“But I like her,” Scott continued with a heartfelt sigh.
Christian couldn’t believe how adequately Scott had described his feelings about Mariah.
“But you know, sometimes I look at Chrissie and I think she’s got the nicest eyes of any girl I’ve ever seen.”
Christian thought Mariah’s eyes were beautiful, too. The way they drifted shut at the precise moment he knew he needed to kiss her. How her long eyelashes brushed against the high arch of her cheek. How expressive they were, betraying every mood from anger to ecstasy. Her eyes. Oh, yes, she had beautiful eyes.
“Sometimes I think Chrissie’s gotta be the prettiest girl in the world. Even with freckles.”
That, too, accurately described Christian’s feelings. He recalled the time he flew to Seattle and had dinner with Allison Reynolds. Outwardly she was a knockout, but he’d found her frivolous and superficial. Mariah, though...there wasn’t an ounce of phoniness. “Mariah doesn’t have freckles, but I know what you mean.”
Scott grinned. “I thought you would.” Then his expression turned serious. “I like Chrissie ’cause she’s a good friend of Susan’s. I don’t know if Susan would’ve liked living in Hard Luck so much if it wasn’t for Chrissie.”
Christian mentally reviewed the women who’d come and gone in the past year. A number had stayed and settled in the community, and a number had left. Despite the hardships, despite the cold, Mariah had stayed. He’d misjudged her from the start, believing she’d be one of the first to pack her bags and go.
Scott’s sigh was heartfelt. “One day I’ll probably marry Chrissie Harris.”
Christian winced at the word “marry”—it had always made him uncomfortable. “Don’t you think you’re a bit young to be talking about that sort of thing?”
“Sure, I’ve still got a lot of years, and Mom and Dad are already talking about me going to college.”
Christian patted the boy’s shoulder again, more vigorously this time, proud to call him nephew.
“But I’ve decided if I don’t marry Chrissie, I want a girl like her.”
“Scott!” Susan stood on the front porch across the street and hollered at the top of her lungs. “Dinner!”
“You should get going.”
“Yeah. Mom’s serving my favorite meat loaf tonight. She got the recipe out of the newspaper a long time ago from some lady who writes an advice column.”
“Don’t keep her waiting then.” Christian might not know much about dealing with women, but he knew better than to let his dinner get cold.
“Did I help you any?” Scott asked.
“You did.” It was true. “You should think about writing an advice column of your own.”
Scott nodded thoughtfully. “I just might, you know. Someday Aunt Lanni wants to start a newspaper in Hard Luck. She might give me a column ’cause we’re related.”
“If you want, I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Scott beamed. “Great!”
Advice to the lovelorn from Scott O’Halloran, Hard Luck’s hometown expert.
Smiling for the first time since Mariah had announced she was leaving, Christian stood up. His hand was on the front doorknob when something Scott had said suddenly struck him.
Scott wanted to marry a girl like Chrissie.
A woman like Mariah. That was what Christian wanted in his life. A woman like Mariah.
* * *
Mariah hadn’t decided what she’d do or where she’d live once Libby Bozeman was trained. The thought of leaving Hard Luck made her infinitely sad. But she had no choice if she wanted to avoi
d Christian O’Halloran.
Just thinking about that stubborn, obtuse man made her angry all over again. Angry enough to find it impossible to sit still. So, after dinner, she took a walk.
The sun was getting ready to set, and it wouldn’t be long before dark, but she didn’t let that deter her.
“I’ll be back soon,” she told Matt and Karen who sat in the swing on the front porch. Karen’s head rested against her husband’s shoulder, and Matt had one arm around her. Much as Mariah loved them both and delighted in their happiness, right now it was painful to watch.
Buttoning her sweater, collar pulled up around her ears, she walked briskly for about ten minutes.
Night descended faster than she’d expected, and not wanting to stumble about in the dark, she started to take a shortcut around the back of the Hard Luck Café.
Apparently Ben had just stepped outside, because the light from the open kitchen door spilled out, illuminating her path.
Mariah kept her head down, anxious to be on her way and avoid exchanging pleasantries.
She heard a muffled sound and paused to glance back. At first she saw nothing, then made out a shadowy form. It appeared to be a large animal on the ground, next to the garbage cans outside the back door. She hesitated, uncertain if she should venture closer. Lanni had once encountered a bear on the tundra, and just hearing the tale had given Mariah goose bumps.
She took a step, then two, before deciding it was ridiculous to run from her fears. If it was a bear in the shadows, he’d get far more interesting fare from Ben’s garbage than she could provide.
As she approached the light, Mariah could tell it wasn’t an animal down there in the shadows, but a person.
“Ben?” she whispered. “Ben!”
Ben didn’t stir.
Ten
“Ben.” Mariah fell to her knees and pressed her finger against the artery in his neck. Again and again she tried to locate a pulse but found none. Her own accelerated at an alarming pace as she realized Ben Hamilton had probably suffered a heart attack.
She left him only long enough to race into the kitchen and call for help. She dialed Mitch’s number. Hard as she tried to remain calm, her words were rushed and she felt close to panic.
Forcing herself to breathe deeply and think clearly, she returned to Ben’s side and carefully rolled him onto his back. His head lolled to one side and his coloring was poor. She slid her hand behind his neck, then lifted his head and began to administer CPR. Luckily she’d taken a course in cardiopulmonary resuscitation in college and knew what needed to be done.
“Ben, oh, Ben,” she said as she pressed the heel of her hand against his chest and pumped. He wasn’t breathing on his own. His heart began again—erratically, but it was beating. She stopped to administer mouth-to-mouth.
She wasn’t sure how long she worked, alternating between the breathing and pumping his heart. It seemed as though an eternity had passed before she heard footsteps behind her.
“What happened?” Mitch shouted.
“Heart attack,” she panted. The two words required an inordinate amount of energy.
Mitch squatted down beside Ben and assisted her, taking over the breathing while she continued to work on the older man’s heart.
Two emergency medical volunteers arrived at the scene and took over. A crowd started to gather, everyone whispering as Ben was loaded into the back of the ambulance and rushed to the health clinic.
“Mitch!” Bethany cried from behind him. “What’s going on?”
Mariah watched Mitch gather his wife into his arms. “It’s Ben,” he whispered. Bethany’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
“His heart?” Her voice trembled and she bit her lip. “I knew something wasn’t right. He promised me he’d stop working so hard. He promised.”
Mitch smoothed the hair away from Bethany’s face in a gentle gesture of love and comfort.
“I just found him,” Bethany sobbed in agony. “I can’t lose him now.”
“Are you okay, Mariah?” Sawyer O’Halloran arrived breathless, Abbey right behind him. “We were at Mitch’s when you called.”
Mariah felt as if she was in a daze, but she managed to nod.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.” But she’d never felt this shaky. All at once her bones seemed to dissolve, and she slumped against the side of the building.
“I think you need to sit down,” Abbey said, taking Mariah by the hand and leading her into the café. She steered Mariah to a chair, then quickly made a pot of tea.
“What’s going to happen to Ben?” Mariah asked, praying her meager efforts had been enough to save him. She worried about whether she’d followed the procedure correctly. The CPR class had been years ago, and she might have forgotten something.
“Medical transport is on the way. A medical team will arrive by helicopter in just a little while,” Sawyer explained. “Christian’s on the radio with them now.”
Abbey added a liberal amount of sugar to Mariah’s tea and stirred it briskly. “Here,” she said, “drink this.”
“How’d you find him?” Sawyer wanted to know.
Mariah told them she’d gone out for a walk after dinner and was taking a shortcut back to the lodge because of the dark when she found Ben. She trembled as she spoke, remembering how she almost hadn’t stopped to check. How she’d nearly given in to the fear of encountering a bear.
“Without you, Ben would’ve died.”
Cupping the mug with both hands, Mariah drank deeply. It went without saying that Ben could still die.
By the time the distinctive sound of the helicopter could be heard in the distance, half the town had gathered by the airfield. Not that there was anything to see or do. People came to lend emotional support to one another, to show Ben that they cared and that he was an important part of their lives. To show him that Hard Luck wouldn’t be the same without him. Even though Ben was unconscious, Mariah believed that all this love must touch him in some way.
As the emergency medical technicians wheeled Ben to the plane, the prayers and hopes of the community went with him.
“Any family?” a man called from inside the transport.
Bethany whispered something to Mitch, then hugged him and Chrissie and rushed to climb into the helicopter.
After the helicopter lifted off the runway, everyone started to talk at once. A number of the curious crowded around Mariah, and she repeated the story of how she’d discovered Ben. People were standing around Mitch, too, asking questions about Bethany’s relationship with Ben. Mariah couldn’t hear what he said and was too exhausted to wonder about it right now.
Karen and Matt walked back to the lodge with her. As she headed up the porch steps, Mariah saw Christian. He stood nearby, talking to Sawyer and Charles. His gaze left his brothers and moved to her. Their eyes met for a long moment, before she gained the strength to look away. Her heart was filled with a deep sadness as she turned and entered the lodge.
* * *
The following morning Christian was the first to arrive at the Midnight Sons office. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Twice he’d called the hospital and talked to Bethany, and the news was good. Ben was stabilized, and the hospital had scheduled a number of tests. If all went as the doctors expected, Ben would be headed for open-heart surgery early that afternoon.
Worrying about Ben’s condition wasn’t all that had kept Christian awake. He’d given some thought to what he’d learned about his friend last night—that he was Bethany’s natural father. Not surprisingly, it was all over town. People were shocked but more than that, they were genuinely pleased. Christian had also been thinking about Mariah.
He mulled over everything that had happened in the past fourteen months, everything he knew about h
er, from her courage in coming here to her skill and bravery last night. He considered her compassion, too, her honesty, her sense of humor. He’d misjudged her for so long. A woman like Mariah. The words wouldn’t stop circling in his mind.
If he did marry, and eventually he intended to, he wanted a woman like Mariah. Not a fancy city girl like Allison. Or even one like Vickie, nice though she was. He wanted a woman like Mariah. But if he’d already found her, then—
The door to the office opened, cutting him off in midthought. Mariah walked in, and she looked as tired as Christian felt.
“Coffee’s almost ready,” he told her. He stood in front of the machine and waited for the liquid to finish filtering through, then poured them each a mug.
“Have you heard anything about Ben?” she asked, thanking him for the coffee with a weak smile.
Christian told her what he’d learned.
Mariah held the cup tightly with both hands. She was paler than he could remember, and the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her was strong. It hurt to realize she didn’t want him.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, perching on the corner of her desk.
“I didn’t.”
“Me, neither.”
“I...don’t know if I’m going to get much work done today,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes.
The door opened again, and Sawyer entered. He paused when he saw Christian so close to Mariah. Christian started to tell him what he knew about Ben.
“I talked to Bethany myself,” Sawyer said, interrupting him. “Charles and Lanni are flying into Fairbanks this morning to be with her. Mitch, too. They’ll keep in close touch and let us know how he’s doing.”
“Good,” Christian said. But he wished Sawyer hadn’t arrived just then, because he wanted—needed—to talk to Mariah.
“I... I was telling Christian I don’t know if I’ll be much help around here today,” Mariah said, sounding strangely fragile.
“Take the day off,” Sawyer suggested. “I wouldn’t be here myself if it wasn’t necessary.” He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes. “I doubt anyone got any sleep last night. Abbey and I didn’t, that’s for sure, and the kids were up half the night, too.”
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