He nodded. “Do you know when the service is?”
“No.” The details had yet to be decided. Lanni lifted her head and looked up at him. “I’m glad you came.”
“So am I,” he said. “I love you, Lanni. Don’t ever hold anything back from me, understand?”
She nodded.
He stood, giving her his hand. “Now let’s go see about meeting your brother’s plane.”
Mitch heard via the grapevine that Bethany had a date with Bill Landgrin. Bill’s pipeline crew was working at the pump station south of Atigun Pass. The men responsible for the care and upkeep of the pipeline usually worked seven days on and seven days off. During his off-time, Bill occasionally made his way into the smaller towns that dotted the Alaskan interior.
What he came looking for was a little action. Gambling. Drinking. Every now and then, he went in search of a woman.
Mitch didn’t know when or how Bill Landgrin had met Bethany. One thing was sure—Mitch didn’t like the idea of his seeing Bethany. In fact, he didn’t want the man anywhere near her.
Mitch understood Landgrin’s attraction to Bethany all too well. It had been hard enough to sit idly by and watch her date John Henderson. The pilot was no real threat; Bill Landgrin, on the other hand, was smooth as silk and sharp as a tack. A real conniver, Mitch thought grimly.
There was no help for it. He was obligated to warn Bethany of Bill’s reputation. Someone had to.
He bided his time, waiting until two days before she was said to be meeting Bill. As if it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, he’d stop by to see her after school. He’d make up some fiction about being concerned with Chrissie’s grades—which were excellent.
He waited until he could be sure there was no chance of running into Chrissie. The last thing he needed was to have his daughter catch him seeking out Bethany’s company. The kid might get the wrong idea.
Mitch had intentionally avoided Bethany since the night of Chrissie’s accident. There was only so much temptation a man could take, and that evening had stretched his endurance to the breaking point.
He found Bethany sitting at her desk. Her eyes widened as he walked into the classroom. “Mitch, hello! It’s good to see you.”
He smiled slightly. “I hope you don’t mind my dropping in like this.”
“Of course not.”
“It’s about Chrissie,” he said hurriedly, for fear Bethany would get the wrong impression. “I’ve been a little, uh, concerned about her grades.”
“But she’s excelled in all her subjects. She’s getting top marks.”
He was well aware that his excuse was weak. From the day school had started, he hadn’t had to hound Chrissie to do her homework. Not once. She would’ve gladly done assignments five hours a night if it meant pleasing Ms. Ross.
“I’ve been wondering about her grades since the accident,” he said.
“They’re fine.” Bethany flipped through her grade book and reviewed the most recent entries. “I’ve kept a close eye on her, looking for any of the symptoms Dotty mentioned, but so far everything’s been great. Is there a problem at home—I mean, has she been dizzy or anything like that?”
“No, no,” he was quick to reassure her.
“Oh, good.” She seemed relieved, and he felt even more of a fool.
Mitch stood abruptly and turned as if to leave. “By the way,” he said, trying to make it sound like an afterthought, “I don’t mean to pry, but rumor has it you’re having dinner with Bill Landgrin this Friday night.”
“Yes.” She stared at him. “How’d you know that?”
“Oh,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, “word gets around. I didn’t know you two had met.”
“Only briefly. He was on a flight with Duke and stopped in at the café the same time I was there,” she explained.
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. He started to leave, then turned back with a dramatic flourish. “What about John? Do you often date men you’ve just met?”
“What about him?”
“Why aren’t you seeing him anymore?”
Bethany hesitated. “I don’t think I like the tone of your question, Mitch. I have every right to date whomever I wish.”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to imply anything else. It’s just that, well, if you must know, Bill has something of a…reputation.”
She stiffened. “Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself.”
He was making a mess of this. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Bethany. It’s just that I’m all this town’s got in the way of law enforcement, and I thought it was my duty to warn you.”
“I see.” She snapped the grade book shut. “And I’m a policeman’s daughter. As I told you earlier, I can take care of myself.” She made a production of looking at her watch. “Now if you’ll excuse me?”
“Yes, of course,” he said miserably, turning to go. And this time he left.
Bethany wasn’t sure why she was so angry with Mitch. Possibly because he was right. She had no business having dinner with a man she barely knew. Oh, she’d be safe enough. Not much was going to happen to her in the Hard Luck Café with half the town looking on.
It went without saying that she’d agreed to this dinner for all the wrong reasons. John Henderson had started seeing another woman recently. One of the newer recruits, a shy young woman named Sally McDonald.
After nearly six weeks here, Bethany had to conclude that Mitch didn’t want to become romantically involved. The night of Chrissie’s accident, she’d felt certain they’d broken through whatever barrier was separating them. She remembered the way his eyes had held hers after the love scene in the movie. Bethany knew darn well what he was thinking, because she was thinking it, too. Then, when things looked really promising, Mitch had leapt away from her. Since that night, he’d had nothing to say—until now. Bethany was left feeling frustrated and confused.
When Bill Landgrin had asked her out, she’d found a dozen reasons to accept. She’d always been curious about the Alaska pipeline. It was said to stretch more than eight hundred miles across three mountain ranges and over thirteen bridges. Having dinner with a man who could answer her questions seemed innocent enough.
In addition, it sent a message to Mitch, one he’d apparently received loud and clear. He didn’t like the idea of her dating Bill Landgrin, and frankly she was glad. Unfortunately, Mitch had to use his daughter’s injury as an excuse to talk to her about Bill. That was what irritated Bethany most.
Mitch honestly tried to stay away from Bethany on Friday night. Chrissie was spending the night at Susan’s, and the house had never seemed so empty. By seven o’clock, the walls were closing in on him. He’d had to grab his coat and flee.
He tried to look casual and unconcerned when he walked into Ben’s café. A quick look around, and his mouth filled with the bitter taste of disappointment. Bethany was nowhere in sight.
“Looking for the new teacher, are you?” Ben asked as he dried a glass with a crisp linen cloth.
“What gives you that idea?” Mitch growled. He was in no mood for conversation. “I came here for a piece of pie.”
“I thought you decided to cut back on sweets.”
“I changed my mind,” Mitch said. If he’d known Ben was going to be such a pain in the butt, he would’ve stayed home.
Ben brought him a slice of apple pie. “In case you’re interested, she left not more than twenty minutes ago.”
“Who?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know.
“She wasn’t alone, either. Bill insisted on seeing her home.”
Agitated, Mitch slapped his fork down on the plate. “Who Bethany Ross dates is her own business.”
“Maybe,” Ben said, bracing both hands on the counter, “but I don’t trust the man, and you don’t either, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. My feeling is that maybe one of us should check up on Bethany—see that everything’s the way it should be.”
Mitch was convinced there was more t
o this scenario than Ben was telling him. His blood started to heat.
“Since you’re the law in this town, I think you ought to go make sure she got home all safe and sound.”
Mitch wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Ben was right. If anything happened to Bethany, Mitch would never forgive himself. In the meantime, if he did meet up with Bill, he’d impress upon the man that he was to keep away from Bethany Ross.
“So, are you going to see her?”
No use lying about it. “Yeah.”
“Then the pie’s on the house,” Ben said, grinning.
Mitch drove to Bethany’s, grateful to see that the lights were still on. He knocked loudly on the door and would have barged in if she hadn’t opened it when she did.
“Mitch?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course.” She stepped aside.
He walked in and looked around. If Bill was there, he saw no evidence of it.
She’d been combing her hair, and the brush was still in her hand. She didn’t ask Mitch why he’d come.
He suspected she knew.
“Did Landgrin try anything?” Mitch demanded.
Her eyes narrowed as if she didn’t understand the question.
“Landgrin. Did he try anything?” he repeated gruffly.
She blinked. “No. He was a perfect gentleman.”
Mitch shoved his fingers though his hair as he paced the confines of her small living room. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what a fool he was making of himself.
“Will you be seeing him again?”
“That’s my business.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. He had no argument. “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come.” He stalked toward the door, eager to escape.
“Mitch?”
His hand was on the doorknob. He stopped but didn’t turn around.
“I won’t be seeing Bill Landgrin again.”
Relief coursed through him.
“Mitch?”
She was close, so very close. He could feel her breath against the back of his neck. All he had to do was turn and she’d be there. His arms ached to hold her. His hand tightened on the doorknob as though it were a lifeline.
“I won’t see Bill again,” she said in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear, “because I’d much rather be seeing you.”
Chapter
5
A week after Catherine Fletcher’s death, the town held a memorial service. Although she’d never met Catherine, Bethany felt obliged to attend. She slipped into the crowded church and took a place in the last row, one of the only seats left. It seemed everyone in Hard Luck wanted to say a formal goodbye to the woman who’d had such a strong impact on their community.
When news of Catherine’s death had hit town, it was all anyone could talk about. Apparently the woman’s parents had been the second family to settle in Hard Luck. Bethany knew that Catherine had grown up with David O’Halloran, although a lot of the history between the two families remained unclear to her. But it was obvious that Catherine had played a major role in shaping the town. Folks either loved her or hated her, but either way, they respected her feisty opinions and gutsy spirit.
The mood was somber, the sense of loss keen. Hard Luck was laying to rest a piece of its heart.
A number of people attending the service were strangers to Bethany. The members of Catherine’s family had flown in for the memorial, including an older couple she assumed was Catherine’s daughter and son-in-law. Matt Caldwell, Catherine’s grandson, lived in Hard Luck. Bethany had met him one Saturday afternoon at Ben’s café. She remembered that Matt had bought the partially burned lodge from the O’Hallorans and was currently working on the repairs.
When they’d met, Matt had told her he planned to open the lodge in time for the tourist traffic next June. Bethany was tempted to ask what tourist traffic, but she hadn’t.
Matt’s younger sister, Lanni, sat in the front pew, as well, Charles O’Halloran close by. Bethany had heard that they were engaged, with their wedding planned for sometime in April. Even from this distance, she could see how much in love they were. It was evident from the tender looks they shared and the protective stance Charles took at his fiancée’s side.
Abbey had told her about Charles and Lanni, and a little of the story about the O’Halloran brothers’ father and Catherine Fletcher. Bethany gathered that for many years there’d been no love lost between Catherine and the O’Hallorans. Then again, she thought, perhaps that was the problem between the two families. Love lost. Maybe, just maybe, it had been found again through Charles and Lanni.
Silently Bethany applauded them for having the courage to seek out their happiness, despite the past.
Reverend Wilson, the circuit minister, had flown in for the service. He stepped forward, holding his Bible, and began the service with a short prayer. Bethany solemnly bowed her head. No sooner had the prayer ended than Mitch Harris slipped into the pew beside her.
He didn’t acknowledge her in any way. She could have been a stranger for all the attention he gave her. His attitude stung. It hurt to realize that if there’d been anyplace else to sit, he would have taken it.
As the service progressed, Bethany noticed how restless Mitch became. He shifted position a number of times, almost as though he was in some discomfort. When she dared to look in his direction, she saw that his eyes were closed and his hands tightly clenched.
Then it hit her.
She knew little of his life, but she did know he was a widower.
Reverend Wilson opened his Bible and read from the Twenty-Third Psalm. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’”
Mitch had traversed that dark valley himself, and Bethany guessed that he hadn’t found the comfort the pastor spoke of. But it wasn’t Catherine Fletcher Mitch mourned. It was his dead wife. The woman he’d loved. And married. The woman who’d carried his child. The woman he couldn’t forget.
How foolish she’d been! Mitch didn’t want to become involved with her. How could he when he remained emotionally tied to his dead wife? No wonder he’d been fighting her so hard. He was trapped somewhere in the past, shackled to a memory, a dead love.
Bethany closed her eyes, shocked that it had taken her so long to see what should have been obvious. True, he was attracted to her. That much neither could deny. But he wasn’t free to love her. Maybe he didn’t want to be free. He probably hated himself for even thinking about someone else. His behavior at this memorial service explained everything.
Mitch leaned forward, supporting his elbows on his knees, and hid his face in his hands. He was in such unmistakable pain that Bethany couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing. Not knowing whether her gesture would be welcome, she drew a deep breath and laid her hand on his forearm.
He jerked himself upright and swiveled in his seat to look at her. Surprise blossomed in his eyes. Apparently he’d forgotten he was sitting next to her. She gave him a quick smile, wanting him to know only that she was his friend. Nothing more.
Mitch blinked, and his face revealed a vulnerability that tore at her heart. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how.
As if reading her thoughts, Mitch reached out and grasped her hand. The touch had nothing to do with physical desire. He’d come to her in his pain.
He let go of her almost immediately, then rose abruptly and hurried out of the church. Bethany twisted around and watched him leave, the doors slamming behind him.
Mitch stalked into his office, his chest heaving as if the short walk had demanded intense physical effort. His heart hammered wildly and his breathing was labored.
He’d decided at the last minute to attend the memorial service. He hadn’t known Catherine Fletcher well, but appreciated the contribution she and her family had made to the community.
Mitch had talked with her only a few times in the past five years. Neverth
eless he’d seen his attendance at the service as a social obligation, a way of paying his respects.
But the minute he’d walked into the church, he’d been bombarded with memories of Lori. They’d come at him from all sides, closing in on him until he thought he’d suffocate.
He remembered the day he’d met her and how attracted he’d been to the delightful sound of her laughter. They’d been college sophomores, still young and inexperienced. Then they’d gotten married; they’d had the large, traditional wedding she’d wanted and he’d never seen a more beautiful bride. They were deeply in love, blissfully happy. At least he had been. In the beginning.
When they learned she was pregnant, a new joy, unlike anything he’d experienced before, had taken hold of him. But after Chrissie was born, their lives had quickly slid downhill. Mitch covered his head. He didn’t want to remember any more.
He continued to pace in the silence of his office. Attending the memorial service had been a mistake. He’d suffered the backlash caused by years of refusing to deal with the pain, the guilt. Years of denial. Now he felt as if he was collapsing inward.
He’d never felt so desperate, so out of control.
“Mitch.”
He whirled around. Bethany stood just inside the office, her eyes full of compassion.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded, soundlessly telling her nothing was wrong. Even as he did, he realized he couldn’t sustain the lie. “No,” he said in a choked whisper.
Slowly she advanced into the room. “What is it?”
He shook his head. His throat clogged. He stood defenseless as his control crumpled.
Bethany’s hand fell gently on his arm. He might have been able to resist her comfort if she hadn’t touched him. His body reacted instantly to the physical contact, and he lurched as if her hand had stung him. Only it wasn’t pain he felt, but an incredible sense of release.
“Let me hold you…please,” he said. “I need…I need you.” He didn’t wait for her permission before he brought her into his arms and buried his face in her shoulder. She was soft and warm. Alive. He drew in several lungfuls of air, hoping that would stabilize his erratic heart.
Midnight Sons Volume 2 Page 7
