The Alaskan Catch

by Beth Carpenter

  Dana laughed. “He does have a sweet tooth.”

  Sam took a deep breath. “I smell fish smoking. Did you get some reds?”

  Ursula smiled. “A king.”

  “How big?”

  “Twenty-two pounds.”

  “Excellent. When will it be ready?”

  She chuckled. “Not until tomorrow. I have chili for tonight.”

  “I suppose that will have to do.” From the laugh lines at the corners of Sam’s eyes, Dana suspected chili must be a favorite of his.

  Ursula turned toward the building. “Well, come on in.”

  While Sam grabbed their bags, Dana followed Ursula into the inn, Kimmik trailing behind them. They crossed a large deck and entered into a room with a soaring ceiling. A stone fireplace dominated the room along the back wall, with a chimney reaching up to the crown. Flanking the fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a spruce-covered mountain, even greener than the ones in Anchorage. Two stained glass inserts depicting small blue flowers were set high in the windows, tinting the light that fell on the wood floor.

  Four dining tables of various sizes clustered at one end of the room. At the other end, comfortable chairs and sofas gathered in front of the fireplace. Two armchairs with table lamps snuggled in the corners, creating cozy reading nooks. Kimmik plopped down on a rug in front of the fireplace.

  “This is gorgeous.” Dana turned to Ursula. “I love the windows.”

  “Thank you. That’s why we call it the Forget-me-not Inn.”

  Sam carried in the bags and kicked the door shut behind him. “Where do you want us?”

  “The west wing. You can get to work on that gate first thing in the morning. We have three couples in the main bedrooms tonight. Try to keep your language within bounds.”

  Sam laughed. “If you don’t want salty language, you shouldn’t draft me for building projects.”

  “Watch it, buddy. You’re not too old to feed the curse jar.” She made a shooing motion. “Go put those bags away. Put Dana in Rose. Dana, would you like a tour?”

  “I would love that.”

  They started in the kitchen. The scent of meat, onions and chili wafted from a slow cooker. Ursula set the basket on the counter. “Lettuce thinnings for the salad tonight, along with chili and cornbread.”

  “Yum.” Two ovens, a six-burner range and a commercial dishwasher identified the room as a working kitchen, but the baskets on the wall and crocks of utensils on the countertops gave it a homey feel. Behind the kitchen, a bookshelf-lined sitting room and cozy bedroom made up Ursula’s private quarters.

  “I’ve already cleaned and made the beds, but come with me and I’ll show you the guest rooms.” Ursula handed her a jar of foil-covered candies. “You can help me with the mints.”

  Continuing the wildflower theme, each room had a different blossom painted on the door. The furniture was simple but elegant, with soft duvets or patchwork quilts on all the beds. Not a doily in sight. At Ursula’s direction, Dana left a piece of candy on each nightstand.

  Ursula led her back to the main room and to another hallway. “You’ll have the Wild Rose room and Sam is across the hall in Lupine. I’ll let you freshen up while I make tea. Today we have wild blueberry scones.”

  Dana opened the painted door and walked into the room. A quilt in muted shades of rose, amber and green covered the bed. Through an open doorway, she could see a shower curtain with a large-scale print of wild roses framing a huge tub. A beveled mirror reflected sunshine from the window and projected a rainbow on the wall above the bed.

  She reached into her suitcase for her toiletry kit. Pausing in front of the mirror, she brushed her hair and put on lip gloss before she hurried back to the gathering room. She wouldn’t want to be late for tea.

  * * *

  THAT EVENING, SAM and Dana sat with Ursula in front of the big fireplace. The three couples staying at the inn had turned in early after a full day of offshore fishing in Seward. Sam watched Dana struggling with a hook and a ball of yarn. Poor kid—she’d made the mistake of admiring Ursula’s crocheted afghans, not realizing it would lead to a crochet lesson.

  Or maybe she did. She seemed to be trying to get it right. “So, down, loop, back through and another loop, right?”

  “That’s perfect. Now just keep doing that until you come to the end of the row and I’ll show you how to turn.”

  Sam had purposely chosen not to reveal Dana’s last name yet. He wanted Ursula’s unbiased evaluation of her character first. And while he hadn’t talked to Ursula alone, it was obvious the two women clicked. It may have been when Dana offered to make the cornbread, or possibly when she complimented one of Tommy’s whirligigs, but at some point today, Dana had won Ursula over. He wondered if it would stay that way once Ursula knew her last name.

  Dana held up the somewhat irregular row of stitches. “Look, Sam. A whole row.”

  He nodded. “Looking good. Some mouse with a cold neck is going to love that scarf.”

  She gave a little giggle, the sound almost like the tinkle of the wind chimes on Ursula’s deck. “I think I’ll keep going until it’s a pot holder.”

  Kimmik repositioned himself on the rug and laid his head on top of Sam’s foot. The sun had shifted far to the northwest, peeping through the small upper windows along the west wall to paint diagonal stripes across the room. Sam leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. A stomachful of moose chili, a good dog at his feet and the sound of soft laughter as Ursula and Dana put their heads together over their project—tonight, Sam was content.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE NEXT MORNING, after a decadent breakfast in the gathering room, Sam went outside to take some measurements. To his relief, all the guests had gone out sightseeing after breakfast, so he didn’t have to worry about disturbing them with his hammering.

  Dana followed him out. He caught her eye. “I was kidding about watching me. I’m sure you can find something more interesting to do. You can take my truck into Seward if you want.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You said I could watch, and I’m holding you to it. Besides, I think you need an assistant.”

  “Suit yourself.” Sam had been hoping enough of the original gate would remain to take measurements, but the moose had done a thorough job of smashing it apart. According to Ursula, he’d done a nice job of gobbling up most of her cabbage plants, as well, but a few blasts from an air horn convinced him to move along before he’d completely wrecked the garden.

  Sam pulled out a measuring tape, and Dana jotted the figures on a scrap of paper as he called them out. They unloaded the lumber from the back of his truck and Sam fetched Tommy’s old miter saw from the shed and set it on his tailgate.

  The first two cuts were simple, just straight braces the width of the gate. He pulled out his phone and opened the calculator. “Let’s see. If the braces are thirty-six inches long and forty-eight inches apart, the crosspiece would need to be—”

  “Just under seventy inches.” Dana reached for a two-by-six.

  Sam looked up from his phone. “You’re right. Sixty-nine point nine seven.”

  “I know.” She spoke as though calculating the Pythagorean theorem in her head was a common skill.

  Interesting. Sam decided to test her further. “But we need to cut it at an angle.”

  “Yes. Approximately thirty-two degrees.”

  Sam punched it out. “I get thirty-seven.”

  “But you forgot to subtract the width of the board when you calculated the triangle.”

  “You’re right.” He laughed. “You would have made a good engineer.”

  “I hope I’m going to make a good math teacher.”

  “You absolutely will. So do you solve simultaneous equations just for fun?”

/>   She gave a little smirk. “Sometimes.”

  “Too bad you weren’t around when I was slogging my way through calculus in college. I could have used a math genius.”

  With Dana’s help, they soon had the pieces cut and the gate nailed together and installed on its hinges. Dana held the latch in place while Sam drove in the screws. He opened the gate and pushed it closed. It swung easily into place and latched.

  After putting away the tools, they found Ursula in the kitchen, chopping green onions. “How’s it going?”

  “Done,” Sam said. “I used extra-heavy framing, so hopefully it will discourage the moose in the future.”

  Ursula pinched his cheek. “See? I knew you could do it, and I didn’t even hear any cussing.”

  Sam smiled at Dana and turned back to Ursula. “Fortunately, I brought in a ringer. She calculated all the angles for me.”

  “Well, thank you, Dana. I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Ursula dumped the onion bits into a mixing bowl. “What are your plans for the afternoon?”

  “I was thinking of taking Dana into Seward.” Actually, the idea had just occurred to him, but she deserved a reward for helping him with the gate. And the idea of an afternoon kicking around the pretty little town with Dana held a certain appeal. “If she wants to go.”

  “Um, okay.” She seemed hesitant, but her eyes sparkled.

  “Good idea,” Ursula said. “But first I want your opinion of this salmon dip.” She arranged a tray of crackers and two bowls. “One is the king—the other is some red I smoked earlier. See what you think.”

  Dana scooped up a generous dollop on a cracker. She closed her eyes, her expression blissful. “This is so good.”

  “Now try the other.”

  Dana repeated her actions. “Honestly, I love them both. I can taste a little difference, but I’m not sure one is better than the other. Sam, what do you think?”

  He’d stuffed his mouth full. He could never get enough of Ursula’s salmon dip. “Mmm.” He swallowed. “I like the king. But maybe I’d better have some more of that red, just to make sure.”

  Ursula laughed. “You do that.”

  * * *

  THAT EVENING AFTER DINNER, Ursula put them to work stuffing envelopes. After a full day of carpentry and then strolling through Seward, Sam was happy to sit. He’d had fun, though, showing Dana the town nestled between the mountains and the blue ocean. It drizzled all afternoon, but she’d borrowed a rain jacket from Ursula and didn’t seem to mind. She loved the sea otter they spotted in the bay.

  “I just had these flyers and envelopes printed.” Ursula’s voice intruded on his thoughts. “What do you think of the new logo?”

  “I like it.” Dana reached for another flyer with an abstract tree and moose flanking the inn’s name. “Does the B and B have a web page?”

  “We sure do. I took a course at the community school on web design and made my own. We’re tied into several booking sites, too. I try to keep up with technology.”

  “Ursula stays pretty full all summer, and she’s starting to pick up more winter business, mostly skiers and snowshoers.” She’d only been innkeeping for five years now, but Ursula’s reputation was growing. Sam was proud of her.

  “The equipment and tool rental business I worked for had good luck with those daily deal coupon sites. We offered a discount and pulled in quite a few people who’d never heard of us before. Many of them turned into repeat customers. Have you tried that for your off-season?”

  “Now that sounds like a good idea. Can you send me the information?”

  “Sure.”

  Once they had enough envelopes stuffed, Dana stretched. “I believe I’ll go try out that big tub in my room with a nice soak. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Breakfast is at nine, church at ten.”

  “Church? I’m afraid I didn’t bring a dress.”

  Ursula laughed. “Wear your jeans and you’ll fit right in. Enjoy your bath. Oh, and before I forget, I want you to sign the guest book.”

  “Okay.” Dana signed her name in the leather book on the table near the front door and disappeared down the hall.

  Ursula watched her go and then turned to Sam. “How’s work?”

  “Good. Spudded another well on my last hitch. Ethan’s hinting at another overseas assignment.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “He’s not saying. I heard they might be looking for people in Dubai.”

  “Dubai? We almost moved there once. They were recruiting experienced people for a new drilling program.”

  Sam frowned. “You did? Tommy never mentioned that.”

  Ursula paused while she fiddled with the crochet hook in her hand. “Do you remember the first time you ever wandered into the garage and met Tommy? What he was working on?”

  “Sure. He was using a power sander to refinish a door that had gotten gouged.”

  “That door had been scratched for years. You know why he’d decided to fix it then?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “Because we were thinking of putting the house on the market. Tommy knew people who had gotten jobs in Dubai, and the money was great. We were considering selling the house so he could take one of those jobs.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was this kid who kept hanging around. Tommy said he had a mind like a sponge.” She smiled. “Tommy loved talking to you, teaching you how to do things. So he dragged his feet about looking for another job because he didn’t want to leave you. Then you came to live with us, and that settled it. You know we wouldn’t have been able to get a passport or visa for you. We weren’t your official guardians.”

  An icy fist gripped Sam’s heart. “Tommy gave up a great job opportunity for me?”

  Ursula chuckled and shook her head. “Tommy didn’t give up anything. You gave him the opportunity he’d always wanted. We’d tried for years to get pregnant. Eventually Tommy got tested and found out he was sterile. Broke his heart, but instead of getting depressed, he put that energy into his oil field job on the North Slope, and he did it very well. He made good money, but when this Dubai idea came along, he wanted it. You see, everyone knew only the best and brightest got overseas jobs. Tommy wanted to prove he was one of the best.”

  “He was one of the best. Everyone who worked with Tommy respected him. He’s practically a legend in the oil field at Prudhoe Bay, up on the slope.”

  “I know. And after you came along, he realized he didn’t need to move across the ocean to get the respect he craved. You looked up to him, and that was more important to him than any overseas assignment.”

  “I never realized—”

  “He loved you, Sam. You made him happy. A whole lot happier than moving to Dubai ever would have. Everything worked out just like it was supposed to.” She picked up the rather sad-looking potholder Dana had been working on. “I like Dana.”

  “I can tell.”

  Lines of amusement fanned from the corners of her eyes. “You like her, too.”

  “She’s Chris’s sister.”

  “Oh, but that’s not why. You like like her.”

  “Maybe. But I have a few reservations.” He got up, fetched the guest book and set it down before Ursula. “Take a look.”

  “At what?” Ursula pulled her glasses from the top of her head and peered at Dana’s signature. Her eyebrows drew together. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Sam. “Raynott?”

  “That’s her name.”

  “Your mother hated him.”

  “I know.”

  “But that’s not Chris’s name. Is Dana married? Or divorced?”

  “No. She says Chris changed his name. He grew up a Raynott.”

  She drew back. “Chris lied?”

  “Technicall
y, no. I’ve never asked him if he changed his name. He just never volunteered the information.”

  She paused. “It can’t only be a coincidence.”

  “I don’t think so, either. What exactly did my mother tell you about him?”

  Ursula thought for a moment. “She said a man named Wayne Raynott had your father’s blood on his hands.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Your mother could be a little...dramatic sometimes.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ve known Chris for years. You trust him. What do you know about this sister? Why did she suddenly show up after all this time? Maybe she’s lying.”

  Sam shrugged. “She says she’s here to persuade Chris to accept an inheritance according to her father’s will. And apparently to find someone he owed money to.”

  “Someone he owed?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Hmm.” Ursula tapped her finger against her chin. “Do we even know for sure she is Chris’s sister?”

  “She knows a lot about him and he gave her the keys to the house and his car. He apparently trusts her. You know how he feels about that car.”

  “Still, can we trust a Raynott?”

  “Trust a Raynott about what?” Dana stepped into the room. Her brown eyes reflected the hurt her voice didn’t. She picked up her cell phone from the table where she’d signed the guest book and crossed to stand in front of them. “What’s this all about?”

  Sam and Ursula looked at each other before Sam spoke. “According to what my mother told Ursula, she held a man named Wayne Raynott responsible for my father’s death.”

  Dana frowned. “My father’s name is Wayne Raynott.”

  “I assumed so.”

  “That can’t be right. My father was an honest, upstanding man. He built a business in Kansas and established a reputation for fair dealings. As far as I know, he was never even in Alaska.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “To find Chris.”

  “But you were searching public records in Fairbanks.”