“I have plenty of blankets here,” she told him, sounding less sure of herself now.
“If you need anything, just holler.” He closed the door, wondering if he should drag her out of the plane right then and there. She was being ridiculous—again. But he assumed that after Chrissie had spent thirty minutes sitting in the frigid plane, her attitude would soften.
Edging along the pontoon, Scott leaped onto the shore. Luckily his boots protected his feet from the icy water. A flashlight led him toward the cabin through a night as black as he’d ever seen. Moon and stars were hidden by dark clouds, and there was no snow to provide even a tiny bit of reflection. The rain still pelted down.
He reached the cabin without incident. Scott’s parents, Sawyer and Abbey, had built the log structure about twelve years earlier, with plenty of help from family and friends. It’d been quite a feat and required careful planning. Naturally the cabin had no modern conveniences, but it’d served as a family vacation home ever since.
As soon as he was inside, Scott lit the lantern and set it in the window, making sure the light was visible for Chrissie, in case she decided to join him. He couldn’t keep from looking out, although it was difficult to see anything more than a faint silhouette of the plane.
His next challenge was to get a fire going. Luckily everything he needed—logs, kindling and matches—had been left within easy access for just such an emergency. Once he got the wood burning, Scott checked the cupboards. Again, his family had provided an adequate supply of canned goods. He and Chrissie shouldn’t be trapped here long, four or five hours at most. The worst of the storm would pass by then, and they’d be able to land safely in Hard Luck early tomorrow morning.
He had the coffeepot brewing on the woodstove when he thought he heard a noise outside. It was probably just the wind, but in case it was Chrissie, he wanted to appear as relaxed as possible. If she happened to peek inside, he wanted her to think he didn’t have a care in the world. Throwing himself down in the big chair, he leaned back his head and closed his eyes.
Ten minutes later his patience was gone, along with the pretense of relaxation. Chrissie was an idiot if she thought he was going to leave her in the plane while he sat, warm and cozy, inside the cabin. He grabbed his coat, determined to trudge back to the lake.
The wind was now mixed with ice and snow, and it stung his face when he opened the door. He shone the beam of light on the narrow footpath leading to the water’s edge. Shoulders hunched against the wind and rain, he kept his gaze down. The flashlight guided his steps, illuminating the walkway a few feet at a time. Scott paused when the light fell on a pair of wet boots. Chrissie.
“I... I changed my mind,” she announced.
Scott bit off any chastisement, although he had plenty he wanted to say. Instead, he held out his hand.
She hesitated before slipping her gloved hand in his. “Thank you.”
She moved close to his side, and his arm went about her waist as he helped her to the cabin. With the wind behind them, propelling them forward, they were at the door within minutes.
The cabin was warm, comfortable and surprisingly intimate, despite its size. At first Chrissie stayed near the door, as if she feared what might happen if she advanced completely into the large open room.
“How about a cup of coffee?” Scott asked, his back to her.
“Please.”
He dared not turn around for fear she’d see the amusement in his eyes. Judging by the way she maintained her distance, she apparently expected him to ravish her any minute.
“You were able to let someone know where we are?” she asked, rubbing her hands together as she stood in front of the fire, which was now burning well. The wood crackled and flames leaped merrily, casting warmth throughout the room.
“Duke took the message.” Her lack of trust bothered him, and the situation seemed a lot less amusing.
“Good,” she said briskly.
He poured them each a steaming cup of fresh coffee. He found sugar but no creamer; there was, however, a bottle of whiskey, and he doctored his coffee with that. Might as well get comfort where he could. She declined.
Scott sat down in the big overstuffed chair Sawyer favored. If Chrissie wanted to act like a piece of cardboard, that was fine by him, but he intended to relax. Despite the impression he’d given, landing the plane during the storm had been a stressful experience. “I haven’t been here in years,” he said, glancing around.
“Me...neither.”
“The last time—” He stopped abruptly the second he realized exactly when that had been. It was the summer she’d graduated from college.
“The last time you were here was with me, wasn’t it?” Chrissie asked. She sat on the sofa across from him, huddled over her cup as though it was something that required her protection. Her boots and socks were off and drying by the fireplace. She sat with her bare feet tucked beneath her.
“Seems like a lifetime ago,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. He’d watched Chrissie that day and he’d remembered everything he’d spent the past few years trying to forget. Even after he’d hurt her, she’d been trusting and sweet. The teenage girl he’d left behind had matured into a woman. That afternoon had been one of the most wonderful of his life; it’d opened his eyes to what he really wanted. All this time he’d been running away—from his family, his town, the people he’d known—and until that afternoon he hadn’t realized how much he missed Chrissie, how much he needed her.
His original plan had been to fly into Hard Luck, attend the graduation party, then head out immediately afterward. His relationship with his mother and Sawyer was strained at the time, and he hadn’t wanted to overstay his welcome. During his years away, he’d made a new life for himself, first in the military and after that, in Utah. He’d hurt his parents, embarrassed them. It seemed better for everyone involved if he kept out of their lives.
To his surprise, Sawyer and his mother had been genuinely delighted to see him, and willing to put the past behind them. He’d loved spending time with Susan, Anna and Ryan, and he’d remained in Hard Luck for ten days. His reluctance to leave, however, was due to more than his family. Scott had lingered in town because of Chrissie.
With Sawyer’s permission, he’d borrowed the Cessna, had Ben pack him a lunch and then taken off with Chrissie for an afternoon of swimming and fun. As soon as he could manage it, Scott had Chrissie back in his arms again.
The minute they’d kissed, those years apart had dissolved and it was as if he’d never left. Every time they kissed, he had another reason to stay. Every time they touched, he felt a sense of rightness. This was home. This was Chrissie, the first girl he’d ever loved, the only girl he’d ever loved....
“Are you tired?” he asked, wanting to cut off his memories before they took him into territory best left undisturbed.
“Exhausted,” Chrissie admitted, sounding more relaxed now that she’d had a warm drink.
“I’ll scrounge up some blankets from the loft.” He was anxious to do something, preferably something that required movement. Sitting around reminiscing about the one summer afternoon he most wanted to forget wouldn’t help matters. Unfortunately it was the same summer afternoon he most wanted to remember.
He straightened the ladder that went to the loft. His parents used the upper area for storage in case bears broke into the cabin. Climbing up, he discovered that Abbey had packed everything neatly away for the winter, but it didn’t take him long to find extra bedding.
Grabbing several blankets, he carried them down for Chrissie. She’d finished her coffee and placed her mug in the sink.
“If you want, you can sleep down here on the sofa close to the fire,” he suggested.
She nodded.
“I’ll take the loft.”
She nodded again.
“Good night,
Chrissie.”
“Night,” she muttered, her voice low.
Scott started up the ladder, then stopped. “Chrissie?” he asked, uncertain what had changed. Clearly something had. He heard it in her voice, although she kept her head averted and he couldn’t see her expression.
“Yes?” She sounded cheerful again.
He stepped off the rung and moved toward her. “Is everything...all right?”
Turning to face him, still in the shadows, she said, “Listen, I know I was out of line earlier. I’m sorry for what I said.”
“That’s okay.”
“You can’t control the weather.” They stood no more than a few feet apart, tension electrifying the air between them. Scott didn’t know what to make of it. Part of him wanted to shout that it was time to put aside the hurts of the past and talk honestly. He opened his mouth to say as much but saw her stiffen and knew it was useless. She wouldn’t lower the emotional barricades she’d erected against him. Nor could he forget that there was another man in her life now. A man she visited in Fairbanks at least twice a month.
“Good night,” he said again, unnecessarily. After he’d stacked extra wood by the fireplace, he climbed the ladder to the loft.
He made up his bed, and when he lay down, he could see Chrissie below. She’d piled blankets on the sofa, then turned off the lantern. The only light in the cabin came from the flames dancing in the fireplace, throwing shadows about the room. The wind moaned outside the door. Another time the low whistle might have lulled him to sleep, but not tonight. Not with Chrissie only a few feet below...
Closing his eyes, he was beseiged by the memory of her kisses—the taste of her mouth against his, her eager response to him, the need she created in him with a single touch.
“Scott?”
Her soft voice startled him and he opened his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Are you asleep?”
“No.”
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Anything would be better than this stilted politeness. “Sure, ask away.”
“Do you remember that last summer we were here?”
He almost groaned aloud. “I’m not likely to forget.”
“I wondered...” Her voice broke.
“What did you wonder, Chrissie?”
“I need to know if what Farrah said was true. Back then. Were you engaged to marry her?” She paused, then added, “Was it true?”
He’d been lying on his stomach, his head resting on his folded arms. He rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling. He opened his mouth to tell her, to explain it all away—but he couldn’t. Yes, he had excuses and justifications for that day they’d spent on the lake, when he had, in fact, been engaged to another woman. He could tell Chrissie how he’d finally understood that Hard Luck was his home, that she held his heart. He’d wanted to tell her, but his hands had been tied. It would’ve been unfair to Farrah, and he owed her that one kindness before he broke off the engagement.
“Your silence is answer enough.”
“I don’t have any excuses, but—”
“There’s always a but, isn’t there?” Her voice had an edge he’d never heard before.
“Chrissie—”
“No, listen, it’s all right, really. I shouldn’t have asked. I knew, but I needed to hear you say it.”
At that moment he would have given anything for the ability to lie to her. But he couldn’t make himself do it. “I didn’t marry her.”
“I noticed,” she said sarcastically. “She dumped you, huh? I don’t blame her. No woman in her right mind would marry a man who—” She choked off the rest, took a moment to compose herself, then continued. “A man who gave her an engagement ring and then got involved with a high-school flame. Farrah dumped you,” she repeated, “and you deserved it.”
Scott could hardly keep himself from saying that not marrying Farrah was his decision—and the smartest move he’d ever made. He thanked God that he’d come to his senses in time to save them both untold heartache. They’d fallen conveniently in love, and getting married had seemed the inevitable next step. Not until he’d seen Chrissie again did he realize his mistake.
He’d wanted to tell her the truth about Farrah that summer day. He’d intended to break off the engagement once he returned to Utah and then, as soon as he was free, come back to Hard Luck and plead with Chrissie to marry him. So much for the best-laid plans. The matter of his engagement had blown up in his face when Farrah unexpectedly flew up to see him; she’d arrived with great fanfare and announced to everyone within earshot that she was his fiancée. Scott had seen the look his parents exchanged. His mother had been confused, especially after all the time he’d spent with Chrissie. Sawyer had been angry and they’d argued. Soon afterward, without a word to Chrissie, Scott had left Hard Luck.
He owed her an apology, and more. “I know it comes too late,” he ventured, “but I am genuinely sorry.”
His words appeared to fall on deaf ears. Then, “Is the apology meant for me or Farrah?” she asked.
“Both.”
“It must’ve given you a real thrill to have two women in love with you at the same time.”
He let the comment slide. “I’d settle for just one,” he said quietly.
The fire popped, then briefly flamed, spreading a warm glow around the room. Scott watched as Chrissie threw aside the blankets and leaped to her feet. “Oh, no, you don’t!”
“Don’t what?” he asked, sitting up. He couldn’t imagine what he’d said that she found so offensive.
“Let’s get something straight. You think you can bring me back to Lake Abbey, stir up a few old memories and then weasel your way back into my life. Well, I’m here to tell you it isn’t going to happen!”
“Chrissie—”
She covered both ears and started to hum. “I’m not listening. I’m not listening. Nothing you say will make one bit of difference.”
If she hadn’t looked and sounded so silly, Scott might have let the moment pass. Not now. Climbing down the ladder, he marched over and sat on the sofa beside her.
Taking her by the wrists, Scott looked directly into her eyes. The flickering light from the fire revealed her astonished expression. “Nothing I say will make any difference?” he asked. “Then try this on for size. I love you, Chrissie Harris. I’ve loved you half my life.”
Six
Duke Porter waited until he knew Scott and Chrissie had landed safely on Lake Abbey before he left the Midnight Sons office. As he walked through his front door, taking off his wet jacket, he inhaled deeply. The scent of sage and his favorite chicken dish drifted through the house. He could hear sounds of laughter from his youngest daughter, Sarah Lynn.
“Are Scott and Chrissie okay?” Tracy asked, carrying a chicken casserole to the dining-room table.
“Yes and no,” Duke told her, helping himself to a black olive.
“Daddy!” Sarah playfully slapped his hand. “You’re supposed to wait until dinner.”
“Sorry, I forgot,” he said, and winked at his middle daughter who stood a short distance away, a frown of disgust on her face. Shortly after turning thirteen, Leah had, without any warning, completely lost her sense of humor. Almost overnight, his fun-loving outgoing daughter had turned into a morose and sullen teenager. Her twin sister, Shannon, hadn’t changed. Although that might still happen, he thought wryly, but he hoped not. Two at one time was more than he could handle.
“What do you mean? Did Scott land safely or not?” Tracy demanded.
“He landed,” Duke explained, “only it wasn’t in Hard Luck.”
“He’s all right, isn’t he?” Leah asked, her brown eyes wide with concern.
She had a major crush on Scott O’Halloran. “I presume so. He thought he could beat
the storm system coming our way, but he couldn’t. So he decided that, rather than risk it, he’d touch down on Lake Abbey.”
“All alone?”
“Chrissie’s with him.”
Leah slouched in the kitchen chair and pouted. “Some women have all the luck.”
Tracy returned to the dining room with a pitcher of water and placed it in the center of the table. When she looked up, her eyes connected with Duke’s. “How long will they stay there?”
“Overnight, I expect, perhaps longer. Depends on the weather.”
Tracy’s bold smile triggered a responding one from Duke.
“What?” Leah asked, glancing first at her mother and then her father.
“Nothing,” Tracy muttered.
“Never mind,” Duke said.
“Oh, puh-leeze,” Leah groaned, and rolled her eyes. She nudged her younger sister. “Cover your eyes. Mom and Dad are going mushy on us.”
“Shannon! Dinner’s ready.” Tracy called their other daughter from her room.
Shannon appeared promptly. Both girls looked so much like Tracy that even now it took Duke by surprise. When he’d married her, he’d envisioned a houseful of rough-and-rowdy sons; instead, he had three beautiful daughters. Not once, not for a single second, had he been disappointed. His life was full and he adored his wife. In fact, marriage was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
They all sat down and joined hands for grace. Before the completion of the “amen,” Duke had reached for the serving spoon and leaned toward the casserole. His wife cast him a disapproving look, which he ignored.
“Did I hear someone mention Scott and Chrissie?” Shannon asked.
“He’s stranded with Chrissie up at Lake Abbey,” Leah complained. “Can you imagine getting stuck in a storm with a hunk like that? Why can’t it happen to me?” Still bemoaning her sorry lot, she stretched across the table for the plate of biscuits and helped herself to one.
Duke quickly grabbed a biscuit before he got shortchanged; it’d been known to occur. To his astonishment, Tracy had turned out to be a excellent cook. He’d had his doubts when he first married her, and with good reason. Once, during their brief courtship, he’d visited her in Seattle and she’d insisted on making dinner. The meal had darn near killed him. But soon after that, she’d started practicing. And once they were married, she’d taken cooking lessons from Mary Hamilton and proved to be an apt pupil.
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