by Addison Fox
She stepped up on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Not bad at all.”
And it wasn’t, Roman knew. They’d been able to modify their new jobs in a way that had given them both more flexibility. Avery consulted on a project-by-project basis for Luxotica and he was reporting for SNN on a time-specific basis, most especially around the open of the NHL season and then later for the play-offs. He’d been told his draft analysis was the most spot-on they’d had in years, so he figured he’d started off on the right foot.
His agent, Ray, hadn’t been crazy about the change, but SNN was more than willing to accept the new terms in exchange for locking him into a contract after his retirement.
He and Avery had even figured out living arrangements that made sense, splitting their time between L.A. and Indigo. A situation, Avery had warned him more than once, that was going to favor L.A. in the winter and Indigo in the summer.
“Let me see it one more time.” Grier came to a hard stop in front of them, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’ve been telling anyone who will listen how gorgeous it is and Sloan has already suggested a piece on it for the fashion editor at her magazine. ‘The latest trends in wedding jewelry.’”
Avery smiled and reached for the neck of her sweatshirt and Roman couldn’t hide the swell of pride as she pulled a diamond-crusted horseshoe charm from beneath the heavy cotton fabric.
“It’s awesome, Avery. Really.” Grier leaned forward, gently taking the horseshoe between her fingers. “It’s the most original engagement jewelry I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes flashed with the slightest hint of tears as Roman felt her gaze on his. “Just gorgeous. Trendy yet wildly sentimental.”
Avery reached for his hand, linking their fingers. “And it’s us.”
“Exactly.” Grier smiled.
The moment was interrupted by a tapping sound from the small stage that had been erected at the front of the square. Walker’s grandmother stood on the dais, asking for a moment. When everyone had quieted, she began to speak.
“As we bring another summer to a close, I think it’s important to reflect once again on the many blessings that have been bestowed upon our town and the amazing people who choose to call Indigo home.” Roman listened as Sophie outlined several achievements of various townsfolk, their upcoming plans to expand the town hall meeting center, and a new addition to the high school that was planned for the coming summer.
As he listened, his thoughts drifted over all that was still to come this year. Mick and Grier’s upcoming wedding and the plans he and Avery were making for their own wedding. A trip he and Avery would take to Australia in another month for a conference she was attending. And the annual charity banquet the Metros put on at the holidays that he was emceeing.
Good, happy things to look forward to and memories they’d make as they built their life together.
“So it’s with great pride and pleasure that I wrap up this year’s Labor Day festival with a thank-you to one of our town’s favorite sons, Roman Forsyth.”
Sophie’s words pulled him from his musings as Avery put gentle pressure on his back. “She’s calling you to the stage.”
“Me?” He saw the hint of a smile in Avery’s eyes. “You know something.”
“Maybe. Just get on up there.”
Roman walked toward the dais, happy shouts echoing around him even as he continued his confused walk up the small set of stairs. “This is a surprise, Mayor Montgomery.”
“As well it should be.” She pulled him down for a quick hug.
Turning back toward the crowd with an expression of mischief painted on her face, she continued. “As I said, we here in Indigo count ourselves the recipients of many blessings. And a big point of pride for all of us has been Roman’s accomplishments in the NHL.”
Another cheer went up and he could still only puzzle at whatever Sophie had planned.
“But I’m afraid there may be times we’ve given the impression that the only thing we care about is Roman’s ability on skates.”
The cheers quieted as the town focused on Sophie’s words. “And I’m of the opinion we’ve shortchanged some of his other fine qualities. The ones that are most often displayed off a hockey rink.”
Roman’s gaze sought Avery’s in the crowd. She stood next to his grandmother, and at the expression on both their faces, he knew they had a hand in whatever it was Sophie was about to announce.
“I had the great privilege of knowing Andrew Forsyth for many years and I grieved when we lost him at far too young an age. He was a man of strength. A man of quiet integrity. And a man who gave back to his community.” Sophie turned toward him, and Roman felt a strange heaviness lodge in his throat. “In his grandson, I see those very same qualities. So it is with great pride that I announce that an annual Forsyth Family Scholarship has been established by the mayor’s office. The scholarship is designated in honor of Roman Forsyth and in memory of his grandfather Andrew. Each recipient will receive fully paid college tuition at the university of their choice.”
“Sophie,” he whispered.
She only smiled in return before adding, “The first recipient is Mark Unger.”
His throat grew even tighter as Roman watched Stink’s mouth drop before he hugged his mother and headed for the stage. Cheers and wolf whistles echoed off the square while Sophie made a few additional remarks, but Roman heard none of it.
All he could hear was his own heart beating in his chest.
All he could do was mouth “I love you.”
All he could see was Avery.
She stood in the midst of the smiling faces of Indigo, her eyes shining with love and understanding.
And Roman knew he’d found his forever.
Now that you’ve enjoyed a visit to Indigo, Alaska,
see what happened when Grier and Sloan first arrived!
Baby It’s Cold Outside
Available from Signet Eclipse wherever books and e-books are sold.
It was surprisingly easy to book a trip to the middle of nowhere, Sloan thought with no small measure of amusement as she stepped up into the cold vestibule between train cars.
Grier had peppered her with a nonstop barrage of information and instructions for the past two days as she’d booked her flight and made her travel arrangements. Apparently, a train from Anchorage to Indigo was the recommended mode of travel by the local tourist board.
Sloan couldn’t say she was all that upset to miss out on flying in a puddle jumper–sized plane to the town her best friend was presently calling home, but she was admittedly tickled at the idea of a local tourist board.
She knew from her editorial work that Alaska had a booming tourism industry, but a tourist board for a small outpost virtually in the middle of nowhere? It was serious overkill.
The train let out a loud, piercing whistle as they pulled away from the station, and Sloan huddled down in her coat. It was surprisingly cozy in the train car, but she couldn’t quite shake the chill that had permeated her after a few moments on the station platform.
She shot a quick text to Grier, letting her know she was on the train and headed her way, then pulled out a book to sink into for the ride. She’d barely gotten through a page when her gaze caught a reflection out the window.
Endless plains of white, snow-covered ground, framed by impossibly tall mountain peaks, were set off by the dusky haze of sunset. Grier had given her a heads-up on the weird daylight she’d find at this time of year—a sort of perpetual twilight that hung around for about five to six hours in the middle of the day before darkness descended for another eighteen.
Her eyes roamed over the landscape again and a small thrill shot through her as she noticed a herd of moose in the distance, their large antlers a distinct identifying marker, as if their long, knobby legs and oversized bodies weren’t a dead giveaway. And behind them, growing closer with each passing mile, was the mountain referred to as Denali by the locals.
A small curl of anticipation unfurled low
in her belly as Sloan stared at the mountain that dominated the entire landscape. It hadn’t escaped her notice they shared a name, and she’d come to think of it as her mountain as she’d read up on Alaska over the past few days.
Mount McKinley.
Of course, her mother was anxious for her to get rid of the name and Alaska natives preferred the mountain’s given name—Denali—to the politically charged Mount McKinley, so maybe it was apropos she felt this odd kinship.
Or maybe it was just a funny coincidence, she berated herself for her fanciful notions.
A sharp spike of nerves ran the length of her spine as Sloan burrowed down in her oversized sweater—one of five she’d purchased specifically for this trip. The land and the enormous mountain behind it were impossibly beautiful.
And impossibly hard.
How does anyone live here?
She knew that’s what people thought about living in a city like Manhattan, but easy transportation, food on every corner and ready access to any type of entertainment imaginable didn’t seem nearly as challenging as miles and miles of barren land.
Pulling her gaze from the impressive sight, she turned back to her book. A sense of anticipation filled her in a sudden, steady throb she couldn’t ignore and the words lay unread on the page.
Purpose.
It was something that had been missing from her life lately.
This trip had it in spades.
She’d help Grier. She’d pitch a few stories. She’d relax and get out of New York for a few weeks.
The twilight sky spread out on the horizon before her as Sloan turned back to her book.
It was perfect.
And don’t miss Kate and Jason’s story in
From This Moment On
Available from Signet Eclipse wherever e-books are sold.
Kate Winston had always thought herself an intrepid soul. Between growing up in the wilds of Alaska and teaching hormonal eighth graders, she could stare down a moose with an attitude or handle a pimple-ridden fourteen-year-old with an eraser stuffed up his nose and still maintain her equanimity.
But nothing in her life could have prepared her for the sight of the three town grandmothers modeling lingerie at Sloan McKinley’s prewedding bacchanalia. A strange event that was part bachelorette party, part bridal shower and an all-around peculiar Indigo, Alaska, ritual.
“Sophie! I told you to keep your bra on.” Mary, grandmother to Kate’s sister’s fiancé, Mick, admonished across the room as she played with the fur boa draped around her neck. “The bust isn’t supposed to droop that much. Are you trying to scare Sloan off so she runs screaming out of Indigo?”
Sophie—Indigo’s mayor and grandmother to the intended groom—waved a hand. “It’s fine. Besides, Sloan’s sweet on my Walker. She’s not going anywhere.”
“She will if you flash her one more time,” Julia Forsyth—the third matriarch in their triumvirate—chimed in.
“Is this really happening?” Grier Thompson, Kate’s recently discovered half sister, leaned over and whispered. “Because it’s quite possible I’ve been scarred for life.”
“We hear you,” Julia hollered from across the room.
“I meant you to,” Grier hollered back as she lifted her wineglass in a toast.
Kate lifted her glass to clink with Grier before downing a liberal sip of her Cabernet. She’d heard rumors of the prewedding ritual, but had never been privy to an actual viewing of one. Bridal showers were a strange tradition in Indigo, dating all the way back to the town settlers.
The older women modeled various nightgowns for the bride and her friends. The idea was to send the bride off with a lot of laughter and a reminder that getting old was well worth it with the right person.
It was also a reminder, Kate thought, that Alaska attracted a certain type of individual. One who could live in the rugged climate and small-town atmosphere and still enjoy themselves and appreciate where they’d put down roots.
It was where she’d grown up—the local environment had molded and shaped who she was—and until recently she had never really appreciated what that meant. Or how she saw the world because of it. Especially now that she lived over four thousand miles away in New York City, a city that had more people in one square block than she’d see all year long in Alaska.
Manhattan was a far cry from Indigo, but it was the home of the man she loved. And the previous winter she’d realized that her life was far better with Jason Shriver in it than staying safe and warm, cocooned up in Indigo with a life that didn’t make her happy any longer.
If it ever had.
Even now, she marveled at how much things had changed in the last six months, starting with Grier’s arrival in their small town and later Jason’s.
“I want to hear all about New York.”
Sophie’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and Kate dragged herself back into the moment, abandoning her quiet reflections. “It’s good. Really good.”
Avery, part-time bartender and good friend of the bride and groom, lifted one of the wine bottles scattered around the room and refilled Kate’s glass with a generous pour. “You mean Jason’s really good.”
A smile Kate couldn’t hold back even if she’d wanted to—and she didn’t want to—broke over her face. “He’s very good. And I mean that in a non-dirty way.” At Avery’s raised eyebrows, she continued on quickly. “And so is the city. I’m adjusting quickly, and that was one of my biggest worries. Sort of Grier’s experience in reverse.”
“Well, we all know Grier’s experience has turned out quite well.” Mary extended her glass toward Avery for a refill as she leaned over and wrapped Grier in a tight one-armed hug. “Plus, as a bonus I’m about to get a new granddaughter.”
Kate wasn’t sure if it was the wine or being home for a visit for the first time since the move or the realization that she and Grier had come out the other side of an unpleasant battle over their late father’s will, but tears pooled in her eyes as she took in the women around her.
Women who’d embraced her when she finally stopped fighting and looked up to realize she needed their love and affection as much as they wanted to give it.
Although she would have liked to discover herself without losing her father to cancer in the process, Kate had also come to accept that through horrible loss she had been given new gifts. Good, strong relationships she liked to think would make her father very proud. A sister she loved and a man she could see herself making a life with.
As if she sensed Kate’s slight melancholy, Grier pulled her aside a few minutes later with the excuse of needing help opening a few more bottles of wine in Mary’s kitchen.
Grier sifted through the detritus on the counter—napkins, discarded corks, various bags of chips and pretzels and, oddly enough, an unopened pair of panty hose—until she came up with a corkscrew. “You doing all right?”
“I am.”
“It’s hard sometimes. Like no matter how happy you are, you can’t help feeling just the slightest bit guilty. Or a little sad that he’s not here.”
“Actually, I was thinking something else.”
Grier looked up from tugging the cork from the bottle. “What’s that?”
“I think Dad would be thrilled to see us spend time together. To know that we’ve become friends. And real, true sisters.”
Grier set the bottle down with a heavy clunk and Kate went into her arms as they pulled each other into a tight embrace. “God, I’ve become such a sap.” Grier pulled back.
“It’s all those love hormones and wedding planning.”
Grier wiped at her eyes. “I’ve got hormones aplenty, but I prefer to put them to use elsewhere. I will cop to feeling so full of emotions sometimes they get the better of me.”
“I know.” She did know, Kate thought. Her feelings for Jason were so overwhelming, she had days she could barely sit still for the excitement that coursed through her veins.
And other days she wasn’t sure how it was all going to en
d up.
“Like when we talk. I love our conversations and selfishly I wish you lived closer, but I’m so happy for you.”
Grier’s voice pulled Kate from her thoughts along with the warm hand that wrapped around hers. “Sometimes I can’t believe it’s all happened. That I found Jason. That I left Indigo and live in New York City, of all places. My mother is probably turning in her grave.”
The image of her mother’s perpetually sour disposition—and the realization that she’d never have gone to New York had Laurie Winston still been alive—stretched another thin layer of melancholy over the evening.
“I’d like to think maybe she’s now able to appreciate the things that make you happy.”
“That’s lovely.”
“Or hard-won wisdom.” Grier winked. “Because we all know my mother has quite a few moments of her own. How is Pattycakes?”
Grier had a strained maternal relationship with Patrice Thompson, which made Kate’s own relationship with her mother look like something out of a Hallmark commercial. The two women had mended a lot of old wounds the previous winter when Patrice finally had to come to terms with her affair with Grier’s father. Patty had lived with decades of grief that she had been unable to give herself over fully to that love. Despite their progress, the relationship had over thirty years of strain that wouldn’t simply vanish overnight.
“I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Have you and Jason been out for any society events yet? You’re sure to see her there.”
“We have something next week. An opera function.” Kate waved it off like it was no big deal, but the acid churning in her stomach told a different story. She harbored the very real fear that she’d make an ass out of herself with Jason’s elite social circle—one she’d only read about in magazines and imagined from books.
Grier took a sip of her wine. “They’re not so bad. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them fun, but there are worse ways to spend an evening.”
