He checked the screen and recognized Bill’s number. “How’s it going?”
“Great. The new guy’s a terrific pilot. There’s no bullshit. He does the work and then he goes home. I like that. We’ve already got sixty boxes delivered.”
“That’s fast,” Finn said, surprised they were doing so well.
“Tell me about it. If this guy wants to stick around, you can stay there as long as you’d like.”
“Good to know. I didn’t like leaving you shorthanded.”
“Plenty of hands now,” Bill told him. “I gotta run. Talk to you later.”
Finn listened to his partner hang up, then stood in the center of the park and realized he had nothing to do with the rest of his day. He stepped into the sunlight and looked around at the bustling town. Everyone had somewhere to be. Everyone had someone to be with. Except for his brothers, the only other person he wanted to spend time with was Dakota. The problem was, the last time he’d seen her, he’d acted like an ass.
It hadn’t been her at all, he admitted to himself. It had been him. He wanted to say he’d acted the way he had because he’d known the relationship wouldn’t last and he was only trying to protect her. But that would make him a liar. Instead, he’d felt himself getting closer to her. The realization had scared the crap out of him. So he’d acted or, rather, reacted. He’d rejected her and sent her on her way.
Now he was left with the consequences.
Knowing that, whether or not she was willing to forgive him, he had to apologize, so Finn walked the short distance to Dakota’s house. When he reached the front door, he knocked, then waited. If she wasn’t home, he’d come back later.
The door opened a few seconds later. Dakota raised her eyebrows when she saw him but didn’t say anything. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her feet were bare. Her blond hair tousled. She looked good. Better than good. She looked sexy and only slightly pissed at him.
“I should probably talk first, huh?” he said.
She leaned her shoulder against the door frame. “Sounds like a good idea.”
“I have a good excuse for acting like a jerk.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
He cleared his throat. “Would saying it’s because I’m a guy be enough?”
“Probably not.”
It had been worth a try, he thought. “I was frustrated and angry about my brothers. And starting to get involved with you. That last part wasn’t supposed to happen. You know I’m leaving and I know I’m leaving.”
“So you decided on the mature response,” she said.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I was wrong.”
She stepped back and held the door open. “Come on in.”
“As easy as that?”
“It was a good apology. I believe you.”
He stepped into the house and she shut the door behind him and faced him.
“Finn, I have a good time with you. I like talking to you and the sex is pretty good, too.” She smiled. “Don’t let that last part go to your head.”
“I won’t,” he promised. Although he wanted to take a second and enjoy the praise.
Her smile faded. “I’m very clear on the fact your stay here in town is temporary. When you leave, I’ll miss you. Despite that, I’m not going to get crazy and try to make you stay.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said all that before. I’ll miss you, too.”
“Having cleared up how much we’re going to miss each other, do you still want to spend time together while you’re here?”
He hadn’t dated much in the past eight years. Once his parents had died and he’d become responsible for his brothers, there hadn’t been time. So he wasn’t sure if her direct attitude was about dating a woman who was more mature, or if she was incredibly special. He had a feeling it was the latter.
“I’d like to see you as much as I can,” he said. “And if you want to beg me to stay, I wouldn’t mind that, either.”
She laughed. “You and your ego. I’m sure you would love that. You in your plane, ready to fly away. Me sobbing on the edge of the runway. Very 1940s and going off to war.”
“I like war movies,” he said.
“Let me put on some shoes.” She walked across the living room and slipped her feet into sandals. “I’ll show you the town and later you can stay for dinner.” She turned back to him. “And if you’re very lucky, I might just use you for sex.”
“If there’s anything I can do to encourage that last one, just let me know.”
“I’m sure there’s something,” she said with a smile. “Let me think on it.”
DAKOTA SPENT THE AFTERNOON showing Finn around town. They explored Morgan’s Books, got a coffee at Starbucks and watched the last two innings of a Little League game. Around five, they headed back to her place.
“Want to get takeout?” he asked.
“I still have the ingredients for that chicken dish,” she said, enjoying the soft breeze and the feel of his hand in hers.
“Who taught you to cook?” he asked. “Your mom?”
“Uh-huh. She’s a great cook. We always had a tradition of big family dinners. We were all expected to show up every night, regardless of what else might be going on. As a teenager, I hated the rules, but now I appreciate them.”
“Sounds like you were part of a close family.”
She looked at him. “From what you said earlier, it sounds like you were, too.”
“It wasn’t the same. Dad and I were always flying off somewhere. We didn’t have a lot of meals together. But you’re right. We were close.”
They’d reached her house and went inside. While he browsed through her music selection, she got the chicken ready to put in the oven. Once she’d slid it into place, she grabbed a bottle of wine and joined him in her living room.
They sat together on the sofa.
“How old were you when you learned to fly?” she asked.
“Seven or eight. Dad started taking me up when I was about four. He would let me take the controls. I got serious about studying to be a pilot when I was ten. There’s a lot of written material, but I got through it.”
She shifted so she was facing him on the sofa. “Why do you love it?”
“Part of it is growing up in Alaska. There are lots of places that you can only get to by boat or plane. Some of the towns in the far north are only accessible by plane.”
“Or dogsled,” she teased.
“A dogsled only works in the winter.” He put his hand on her leg. “Every day is different. Different cargo, different weather, different destination. I like helping people who are depending on me. I like the freedom. I’m my own boss.”
“You could be your own boss anywhere,” she said.
“I could,” he agreed. “As much as I like Alaska, I’m not one of those guys who can’t see himself living anywhere else. There are things I like about being in the city. Maybe not a big one. But there’s something to be said for tradition. My grandfather started the business. It’s been in the family ever since. Sometimes there’s a partner, sometimes it’s just us.”
Dakota knew all about belonging to a place. “My family was one of the original families here in town. Being there from the beginning can make you feel like a small part of history.”
“Exactly. I don’t know what’s going to happen with the company,” he admitted. “Sasha’s not interested in flying. I always thought Stephen would take it over, but now I don’t know. Bill, my business partner, has a younger brother and a cousin. They both want in. Right now they’re flying for regional carriers. That’s why he couldn’t hire them to help while I’m down here.”
He leaned forward and picked up his wine. “Sometimes I think about selling out. Taking the money and starting over somewhere else. It used to be important for me to stay in South Salmon, for my brothers.”
“Less of an issue now?” she asked.
He nodded.
Dakota told herself not to read too m
uch into the conversation. Finn was just talking. The fact that he wasn’t determined to stay in Alaska forever didn’t change their circumstances. He’d made it clear several times he wasn’t going to stay in Fool’s Gold. When a man spoke like that, he was telling the truth. It wasn’t code for “try harder to change me.”
But there was a part of her that wanted it to be. Which made her foolish, and Dakota didn’t like being a fool.
“You don’t have to make a decision today,” she said. “Even if you don’t stay in South Salmon, there are other parts of Alaska.”
He glanced at her. “Trying to make sure I don’t change my mind about leaving? That sounds a lot like ‘don’t let the door hit you in the ass.’”
She laughed. “I would never say that.”
He chuckled. “Thinking it counts.”
He put down his wine, then pulled her against him. She went willingly, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. As always, the combination of strength and gentleness aroused her. The man could make her melt without even trying. How fair was that?
He brushed his mouth against hers. “Dinner’s in the oven?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How long do we have?”
She glanced at her watch. “About fifteen minutes. I was going to make a salad.”
“Or you could spend the next fifteen minutes making out with me.”
She wrapped her arms around him and drew him closer. “Salad is very overrated.”
He pressed an openmouthed kiss against her lips. She parted for him, enjoying the slow, enticing strokes of his tongue. Wanting grew. He put his hand on her knee, then moved it steadily up her body until his fingers caressed her breast.
Her nipples tightened and the pleasure began. Between her legs, she was already wet and swollen.
Were they really that hungry, she wondered. Couldn’t she pull the chicken out of the oven and let it finish cooking later?
She drew back slightly, only to have the phone interrupt the question. Finn reached across to the receiver on the end table and handed it to her.
She sat up.
“Hello?”
“Dakota Hendrix?” an unfamiliar woman asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Patricia Lee. We spoke a few months ago about your adoption application.”
“What?” She quickly cleared her thoughts. “Oh, yes. I remember.” The international agency had been quick to approve her application. Unlike several of the others she’d tried, this one hadn’t minded that she was single.
“I heard about what happened with that little boy,” Patricia said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know if they told you, but there was a mix-up in the paperwork.”
Dakota had been told the same thing, although she’d never been sure if it really was a mix-up or if the agency had preferred sending the child to a married couple. Either way, it was an odd thing to call about on a Saturday night.
“Of course I was disappointed,” Dakota admitted.
“Then you’re still interested in adopting a child?”
“Of course.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” the other woman said. “We have a little girl. She’s six months old and quite adorable. I wonder if you would be interested in her.”
Dakota felt the blood rush from her head and wondered if she was going to faint. “Do you mean it? You have a child for me?”
“Yes, we do. I’m emailing you her file right now. There are a couple of pictures, as well. I was wondering if you would call me back after you look at the pictures. We have one of our workers returning home late tomorrow. If you want to take the child, she can get on the same flight. Otherwise it might be a couple of months until you can have her. I know this is quick, so if you want to wait we all understand. It won’t change your application status.”
Dakota’s head spun. They were offering her what she’d always wanted. The chance for a family of her own. And six months old. That was so young. She was somewhat familiar with the developmental problems of a child raised in an orphanage. The younger the child, the more easily those problems were overcome. The little boy she’d been offered before had been five.
“When would you need to know?”
“In the next couple of hours,” Patricia admitted. “I’m sorry it’s such short notice. Our contact has been called home with a family emergency. We try to send a child with every adult going home. But again, it’s up to you. We’re not trying to pressure you. If you’re not ready, we’ll call the next family on the list.”
Dakota walked into the kitchen. She picked up a pen and some sticky notes, then sat at the kitchen table. “Give me your number,” she said. “I’ll look at the file and call you back within the hour.”
“Thank you,” Patricia said.
Dakota took the information, then hung up. She sat in her kitchen. She knew she was in a chair with her feet on the floor, but part of her felt as if she were flying. Flying and shaking and emotional beyond tears. She had to still be breathing because she was conscious, but she couldn’t really feel her body.
Somewhere in the background there was a dinging sound. Finn walked into the kitchen and took the casserole dish from the oven. Then he turned to face her.
“You’re adopting a child?” he asked, sounding stunned.
She nodded, still unable to focus on anything. “Yes. They have a little girl for me arriving in L.A.” She looked at him. “She’s from Kazakhstan. Six months old. They’re sending me a file. I need to go turn on my computer.”
She stood, then couldn’t remember where her computer was. This wasn’t happening, was it? She laughed. “They’re going to give me a little girl of my own.”
“I know you wanted kids…” His voice trailed off, then he nodded slowly. “You have a lot to deal with. Why don’t I get out of your way?”
“What? Oh.”
So much for their romantic dinner, she thought sadly. So much for him. Finn had more than made it clear he wasn’t looking for another family.
“Thanks,” she said. “I have to make a decision pretty quickly.”
“No problem.” He started to leave, then paused. “You’ll let me know what you decide?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
She watched him leave. There was a whisper of sadness, but it quickly faded as she hurried to her spare room and turned on her laptop. The machine seemed to take forever to boot, but when it finally did and she was able to open the file, she saw the picture.
And she knew.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAKING THE DECISION was easy, Dakota realized the next morning. The details, on the other hand, threatened to drown her. She’d barely gotten any sleep. Every time she’d closed her eyes, she’d thought of something else she had to do. Even putting a pad of paper and a pen on her nightstand hadn’t helped very much.
It was barely after eight in the morning, and she was exhausted. She had lists, including supplies, and the names of who she was going to call. The last big issue to be resolved was whether to drive to Los Angeles or to fly.
Although flying would be faster, she had to face the reality of dealing with the six-month-old baby she barely knew. What if her new daughter cried the whole way? Dakota wouldn’t know how to handle that. So driving made more sense. Except it was probably an eight-hour drive and wouldn’t that be stressful on the child, as well?
Dakota tapped her pen on the paper, not sure what was the best solution. In a few minutes, she would call her mother. She wanted to tell Denise the good news and ask her advice on the transportation issue.
In the meantime, she could review her shopping list. Not only would she need diapers and a couple of blankets, there was the issue of formula. Dakota didn’t know very much about babies, but she was relatively sure switching formula could cause an upset stomach. Hopefully, the person traveling with the little girl had brought plenty.
She crossed to the phone by the sofa, but before she could pick up the receiver, there was
soft knocking on her front door. She changed directions and opened it, only to find Finn standing on her small porch. He had take-out coffee containers in each hand.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “It’s early.”
He handed her the coffee. “Nonfat, right?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She stepped back and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m a little fuzzy this morning. Why are you here?”
“You’re keeping the baby.”
“How do you know?”
He smiled. “I know you. You talked about the fact that you can’t have kids and you’re a kid person. Given the chance to adopt, you will.”
“Oh, you’re right.” Unexpected insight, she thought. But nice.
He followed her into the house.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted. “I didn’t get much sleep and it seems like there are a thousand things to do.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “Sure there are. Most people get nine months to figure out what to do about a baby. You’ve had what? Nine hours?”
All of which was true, she thought. But she was still surprised to see him. He’d taken off so quickly the previous night.
“I’m doing the list thing,” she said, pointing to the pages on the kitchen table. “I’m going to call my mom in a few minutes. She’s had six kids. If anyone knows what to do, it’s her.”
“Have you picked a name?”
She smiled. “I was thinking of Hannah. It’s the name that came to me when I saw her picture.”
“Hannah Hendrix. I like it.”
“Me, too,” she said. “Everything is so surreal. I don’t know what to think even.”
“You’re going to be fine,” he told her.
“You can’t know that.”
“Sure I can. You’re the kind of person who cares about other people. And isn’t that what you’re always telling me? That kids want to know you’re there for them?” He smiled. “I’m really happy for you, Dakota.”
His support was unexpected, but very nice. She was close enough to the edge that it could’ve made her cry, but she was determined to maintain control.
“For a guy who isn’t interested in having a family,” she said, “you’re pretty sensitive and understanding.”
Only Mine Page 15
