Book Read Free

From Out of the Blue

Page 7

by Nadia Nichols


  So much for the perfect seduction.

  KATE WOKE at 5:00 a.m. and it was already light outside. She sat up, reached out to touch the reassuring warmth of her son’s solid little body and then slipped from the bed and padded barefoot through the living room to the porch. She felt good. In fact, she felt great, in spite of the way last night had turned out. She’d eaten a big container of yogurt when she’d gotten back to the Moosewood, drunk a quart of water and slept like a rock for the second night in a row. No stomach pains had kept her awake. No nightmares had haunted her sleep. This morning, Denali was completely obscured by cloud cover. If she hadn’t seen the mountain standing in that very spot the day before, she wouldn’t believe it existed. She dressed in her fleece jogging outfit because the morning was chilly, then poked her head into Rosa’s room.

  “Rosa, I’m going for a run,” she said when the older woman muttered that she was awake. “I’ll be back in an hour. Hayden’s still asleep.”

  Five minutes later she was jogging along the quiet side road, bottle of water in hand, hat pulled over her head, breathing clean, crystalline air deep into her lungs and blowing out all the residual chemicals inside of her that still burned and scorched and sickened. She thought about Mitch and last night and how four mountain climbers had spared her from having to tell him about Hayden. She didn’t have to tell him, did she? All she really had to do was determine if he would be a good parent should anything ever happen to her.

  No doubt about it, she was becoming an expert at avoidance.

  And speaking of anything happening to her, what about Mitch? He’d flown out to the mountain last night in heavy winds. She’d lost some good friends to plane crashes during her ten years in the Navy. The plane Mitch flew had a reputation for being unreliable, something she’d never had to deal with in her flying career. Not only were Navy aircraft meticulously maintained, but the type she flew, the Hornet, was known for being so reliable it didn’t require much maintenance. She’d never climbed into the cockpit wondering if the plane was going to fail her. She wondered what that must be like, especially when ferrying around a bunch of paying clients who didn’t have a clue that the engine could quit at any moment.

  Couldn’t be much fun.

  Yet he said he liked flying out here because it was seat-of-the-pants stuff.

  Wing-and-a-prayer stuff…

  Kind of like serious relationships, and marriage, too. Things she’d scrupulously avoided. But now she found herself wondering if she hadn’t made a big mistake. She’d only been around Mitch for a day and already she felt dangerously vulnerable. Chemistry? Maybe. Whatever it was, the attraction was strong and compelling. She liked being with him. She was glad she hadn’t told him about Hayden last night, yet sad the night had ended so soon. Disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her goodbye…

  She was getting giddy. Light-headed. Foolish. She was a young girl again, secretly writing her name in the pages of her diary, pairing it with that of every young man she’d ever had a crush on because Jones was such a plain-Jane name and she was sure she’d find someone who could change that, because she needed a far more glamorous name if she was ever going to make it in the adult world. But in fact there hadn’t been that many guys in her life, and by the time she was twelve she was completely focused on stuff far more important than boys. She was going to be an astronaut. A space shuttle commander. The first woman to set foot on the moon. On Mars. And she was going to have to settle for “Jones” because she hadn’t yet met a boy worth changing her name for.

  When she was in college, she was completely focused on her engineering degree. No time for anything but studying. No time for guys, for parties, for any kind of frivolous activity. Sex? That was meted out carefully by girls who wanted to nab the right husband and father for their future children. K. C. Jones wasn’t playing that game, and she certainly had no time for that crazy little thing called love.

  Katherine Carolyn McCray. She laughed aloud in the wonderful unspoiled land she ran through, where no one could hear her and wonder why. Fantasizing was harmless, especially when her future looked so bleak, but giving substance to that fantasy?

  That would be Major McCray Mistake number two.

  MITCH BOUGHT the flowers at one of those all-night truck stops that had gas pumps, an ATM and, for some fortuitous reason, little bouquets of roses in a cooler next to the one crammed with beer. He bought them with some of the money the climbers had given him for a tip the night before and as he pulled back onto the main road, he felt foolish for doing it, but after last night, he thought he needed to do something to make up for having to run off as he did. Regardless of how the evening had turned out, and excepting the somber little talk she had yet to have with him, he still had hopes of another memorable interlude with K. C. Jones, and the flowers might score him a few points.

  Yesterday, Kate had opened a big can of worms about the anger she’d been holding against him for the past four years, and he’d lain awake from the time he’d gotten back at 1:00 a.m. till five this morning trying to figure out what the real reason might be. Sure, they’d spent a memorable night together, but she’d been ready and willing, and afterward she’d been the one who’d run off. He’d written her, but she never answered his letter. Hell, she hadn’t even read it. She had a kid but it couldn’t be his. They’d been wild together, but not careless.

  So he bought the bouquet and hoped the reason for the serious talk she had to have with him wasn’t so awful it would doom the future of their immediate relationship, because he was kind of counting on two weeks’ worth of nights with K. C. Jones.

  The Moosewood was a sleepy place, one of those backwater rustic lodgings that people either loved or hated. He imagined all the hard-core city people would hate it. There was no night life or satellite TV. No big town anywhere nearby. Nothing really, except that killer view of Denali when the weather was clear. And a bunch of housekeeping cabins with kitchenettes where families could hang out and explore the surroundings without having to rack up big restaurant tabs. The Moosewood had a decent eatery in the main lodge where those tiny white Christmas lights burned year-round to give off what travel writers dubbed “that redneck Alaskan ambiance.” Most road houses sported that same kind of style. He didn’t mind it. He liked Christmas lights. Why not have ’em on all year-round?

  But they weren’t on this morning when he pulled his truck onto the gravel side road and drove up to the main lodge. He thought the best he’d get was a phone connection to Kate through the switchboard, but the clerk in the office told him what cabin she was in, clueless as to protecting her security. He left the bouquet on the seat of the truck because all of a sudden it didn’t look nearly nice enough for her and he walked up the neatly tended path to the guest cabin at the very end of the complex. Yes, there was Kate’s rental, parked in the back, and around front, facing the mountain, was a porch.

  And right about here, he came to a dead stop.

  A little boy was sitting on the steps, fiddling with the wings on one of those balsa wood gliders. He had blond hair and was dressed in denim coveralls, a red flannel shirt and sneakers. He was big enough to be out of diapers but still a ways from first grade, though beyond that Mitch hadn’t a clue to his age. Kids weren’t his area of expertise. At Mitch’s approach the boy looked up from the glider, his expression changing instantly from hopeful anticipation to wariness.

  “Hi,” Mitch said, standing at the foot of the porch steps and wondering why Kate hadn’t mentioned she’d brought her son along on this trip. “I’m guessing you must be Hayden. Your mom home?”

  Hayden shook his head, studying him with dark serious eyes. “She went running.”

  “Looks like you have a broken wing there. Need some help fixing it? Here, let me have a look.” Hayden held out the glider and Mitch took it. “I have some duct tape in my truck. If I splint the broken wing and put an equal amount of tape on the opposite wing to balance the weight, I think she’ll fly okay. What do you think?”
/>   Hayden stared at him a moment longer, then all at once he scrambled to his feet and bolted for the cabin door. He opened it and dashed inside. “Rosa!” he cried out in a young, strident voice. “There’s a man looking for Mumma!”

  Mitch stepped to the open door and glanced inside the living room in time to see Hayden vanish through another doorway, and then his eye was caught by something on the coffee table. A wig lay beside an empty yogurt container holding a plastic spoon, and he felt a jolt of shock to the soles of his feet when he recognized it as Kate’s short, dark, glossy hair. He was still processing this image when a stern-looking woman came from one of the bedrooms and crossed to the door. Mitch assumed this was the nanny, and hoped she was friendlier than she looked.

  “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Mitchell McCray. I stopped by to see Kate.”

  “She’s not here,” Rosa said. “She went running. She should have been back a long time ago.” As she spoke, Mitch realized the grim expression the women wore was one of worry. “She went up the dirt road. I told her, run out on the main road, the tarred road where people can see you if the bears come, where you can get a ride if you get too tired, but she wanted to see where the dirt road went, and so she went.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll take a drive in my truck and see if I can find her,” he offered. “That road goes clear to an abandoned mining town. Not great for vehicles, but fine for jogging. It’s a nice morning. She probably just went farther than she planned.”

  “Yes, perhaps.” Rosa nodded. “It would be good if you could look for her. She might need a ride home.”

  “I’ll fix that broken wing just as soon as I get back,” he said before he left, catching Hayden’s eye peeking from behind his nanny’s formidable bulk.

  Mitch climbed into the truck and headed up the side road. He hadn’t gone more than a mile before he saw Kate walking toward him. She was wearing a close-fitting black watch cap, a pair of gray sweatpants and a dark fleece top, and when she recognized the vehicle she stopped and waited for him to pull up beside her. He leaned out his window. “You the lady that called for the taxi?”

  She walked around the front of the truck, opened the door and hauled herself in, looking pale and exhausted. “Hi,” she said. “Thanks for the lift. It was so beautiful I’m afraid I got carried away and went too far.” She melted back into the seat and gave him a weary smile. “I kept wondering what was around the next corner.”

  “If you’d gone around enough of them you’d eventually come to an abandoned mining town about ten miles out.”

  “Then I’m glad I turned around when I did. How’d your flight go last night?”

  “Good, except the injured climber died and was frozen solid by the time I got there. Had a hell of a time getting him into the plane with all the rest of them and the gear. He had to have been over six feet tall and he wouldn’t bend for anything.”

  She studied him for a few moments with a skeptical expression. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope,” Mitch said, turning the truck around. “It doesn’t take long for a body to freeze solid at those temperatures, especially with the wind blasting the way it was. But the good news is, nobody else died and the plane ran just fine.” He started back toward Kate’s lodging. “I know it’s early, but I wanted to apologize again for last night, and I kind of hoped we could finish up that talk we started.” He cast her a questioning glance. “You feeling okay?”

  “Why do you ask?” she said, instantly defensive.

  “Just wondering.”

  “I told you, I went too far. I just need a long hot shower, that’s all. You stopped by the Moosewood?”

  He nodded. “Your nanny told me you were overdue and that you’d taken the road less traveled, against her advice. I think she was worried you’d been eaten by a bear.”

  Kate laughed. “I didn’t see a bear, but that was a great road to run on, no traffic and no noise except for the birds. I’ve never heard so many birds. It was wonderful.” She paused. “So, you’ve met Hayden?”

  Mitch nodded again. “He broke the wing on his glider and I told him I’d fix it. Seems like a good kid. Kind of shy.”

  “He is, with strangers. Once he gets to know you, he won’t leave you alone.”

  “I was kind of surprised to see him. You never mentioned you’d brought him along on your vacation.”

  She gave him a bemused look then glanced down at the seat between them and picked up the bundle of tiny roses. “The flowers are pretty.”

  He’d forgotten all about the flowers. “They’re for you.”

  Her expression became somber as she looked down at the pitiful bouquet that rested in her lap. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry about supper last night.”

  “Please, stop apologizing. That wasn’t your fault. I hope all that food didn’t go to waste.”

  “Not a chance of it. Thor knocked the platter off the counter while I was gone and ate the entire shebang. He’s in detention. That’s why he isn’t riding in the back of the truck. Anyway, I know you said you’d stop by the airstrip this morning, but I was hoping we could continue last night’s conversation over breakfast. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet.”

  She gave him a long, appraising stare. “Neither have Hayden and Rosa.”

  “Then I’ll buy for all of you and we can talk afterward.”

  She hesitated long enough for him to wonder if she was going to refuse, then nodded. “Okay.”

  Since his arrival at the Moosewood this morning, Mitch had been thinking about what he’d seen back at her cabin. Kate wore a wig. Why would a woman with naturally beautiful hair have to wear a wig? On top of that, she was very thin, and, now that he was paying closer attention, he noticed she had a translucent bluish cast to her skin and dark smudges under her eyes that at first he’d attributed to exhaustion. Now he thought otherwise.

  She was sick. Seriously sick. He’d been blind not to see it before.

  Was that what she had wanted to talk to him about?

  The moment he laid eyes on that wig, he’d given up on his fantasy of the perfect seduction. Mitch wasn’t good at dealing with stuff like serious illness. His mother had died of ovarian cancer six years ago, and he’d been relieved that his air force postings at the time had kept him far from home, spared from her day-to-day downward spiral toward death that the rest of the family endured. He’d been granted emergency leave four times during the final months of her illness, and that last week spent hovering around her hospital bed, followed by the long Catholic funeral, had been a nightmare.

  Kate was sick, but what did that have to do with her coming to Alaska? She certainly hadn’t come to reminisce about that night at the Mad Dog.

  By the time he got up the nerve to ask her directly, it was too late. They were already back at the Moosewood. He parked beside Kate’s rental car. She reached for the door handle, gave him a brief smile, said, “Thanks for the lift,” and disembarked before he could stop her.

  The first thing he noticed when Kate led him into her lodging was that the coffee table had been neatly arranged with several magazines and the wig had vanished. Hayden still clutching the broken glider, appeared with a thunder of footsteps from a bedroom as soon as they entered. “Mumma!” The little boy plastered himself against her legs. When she knelt to hug him, the glider suffered a few more injuries in the fierce embrace. Landing gear bent, starboard wing badly fractured. He’d fix it, one way or the other. It was the least he could do for the kid.

  “Hayden, have you met Mitchell McCray? Mitch, this is Hayden.” Kate rose to her feet and affectionately rumpled her son’s hair. “Shake hands like I taught you to,” she said. “Mitch is going to take us to breakfast.”

  Hayden shook his hand gave him a grave stare from a pair of serious eyes. “You said you’d fix my plane.”

  “And I will,” Mitch said. “Your mom has to take a shower, and that’ll give me time to make that plane of yours fly better than ever. Come on, le
t’s go out to my truck where my tools are, and my duct tape. Can’t do much of anything without duct tape.”

  “What’s duck tape?”

  “Follow me and I’ll show you. Bring your plane along.”

  KATE WATCHED them leave the cabin, the tall man with the little boy at his heels, and wondered how Mitch could possibly not realize that Hayden was his son…or was he just really good at hiding his reactions? She shook her head with an exasperated sigh. No. He was genuinely clueless. Behind the closed door of the bathroom, she stripped off the black watch cap, shed the jogging clothes and stepped under the hot, rejuvenating stream of water. She’d been hoping the dilemma would resolve itself the moment Mitch met Hayden, but no such luck. She was still going to have to broach the subject of paternity with Mitch.

  Maybe she should wait until they’d spent some time together. Surely Mitch and Hayden would get along. So far, they seemed to be doing okay. Of course, they’d only known each other for a few minutes, and a few minutes did not a lifetime make, but…well, there was the genetic thing, right? They were blood kin. They’d automatically bond with each other.

  Father. Son. Bond. Right?

  Bound to happen. Lord, that water felt good. Nothing compared to a hot shower. Standing beneath the steamy spray, she could almost believe in having long hair again, in feeling strong, being healthy, in hope and sunshine and a long and happy life with a man who loved her. She still felt the chemistry simmering between them. It was impossible not to, and equally impossible not to forgive herself at least a little bit for her lapse in self-control that night at the Mad Dog. Mitchell McCray was one in a million, just like Campy had said. That night her behavior hadn’t been influenced by two mixed drinks, but it had resulted in a little boy who thought his father was dead.

  Only he wasn’t. And now they were all here in this place, together.

 

‹ Prev