by Loree Lough
Sniffing, she rooted in her pocket for a tissue to blot her eyes. “Only some?”
“It never got to my folks that way, but Olive blubbered like a baby.” He took a small step back and lifted Sam’s chin on a bent forefinger. “And why do I get the feeling that if I wasn’t here, you’d have done your fair share of blubbering, too?”
She stared up at him, wishing she could remove the eye patch and look into both beautiful brown eyes at the same time.
Just then a bald eagle screeched overhead, capturing their attention and making her expel a tiny gasp. “Okay, so I’ve seen my fair share of ravens back East, but I have to admit, that’s a first.”
Bryce turned her loose so that he could point into the shallow valley ahead. “Last time I was up here, beavers had built a huge dam in that stream over there. Maybe next time we’re here, I’ll show it to you.”
Sam realized she was beginning to understand this guy, at least a little bit. He didn’t like listening to Christmas music twenty-four-seven, and he’d grown tired of candy cane lampposts and streets named after Santa’s reindeer, but he did love his hometown. This aspect of it, anyway.
She’d been so warm, standing in the circle of his embrace, and now as the wind whistled through the pines, she shivered.
He noticed instantly and draped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side. “So what do you think, Samantha Sinclair? Can you hack it up here in the frozen North?”
“Hmpf,” she teased, resting her head on his shoulder, “I’m beginning to think that’s just a lot of hooey printed up by the Chamber of Commerce to encourage tourism.”
“What?”
“Only ice I’ve seen since I pulled into town is the stuff they put in my cup at McDonald’s.”
“Trust me,” he said, chuckling, “you’re gonna see ice. Plenty of it, and sooner than you think.”
“Hmm…I’m a ‘warm and toasty’ fan. Maybe I’m not made of hardy enough stuff to hack it after all.”
He turned her so that they stood toe to toe. “Homesick?”
Sam shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss my family…even those rowdy brothers of mine. But I’d hardly call that ‘homesick.’ ”
“Didn’t they say you’d run home to mommy and daddy in less than a month?”
Sam couldn’t be certain, but she would’ve sworn she’d shared that bit of information with Olive, not Bryce. Either way, some busy bees had been buzzing, and she’d been the main topic of conversation in the hive. She nodded, proud that she’d already lasted months longer than they’d expected her to.
“Winters are the toughest for newcomers,” he said as his thumb drew slow circles on her jaw. “Twenty-plus hours of darkness is tough to cope with, even for those of us who’ve experienced it before. Add to that the unrelenting cold. If you can survive the first year…”
Sam nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “I was talking with a woman just the other day who admitted that it takes her a couple of weeks to adjust, even though she was born and raised here.” Grinning, she added, “I suppose the jigsaw company manufacturers love us Alaskans.”
“Us?” he echoed.
“I like it here,” she admitted. “I like it a lot, and I want to stay.”
“Just to prove your brothers wrong?”
She studied the worry etched on his brow and wanted to kiss it away, along with his concern over the success of Rudolph’s…and whatever else might be troubling him. “I’ve already done that.” Shrugging again, she smiled. “I have plenty of other reasons for wanting to stay.”
He smiled back and said, “Good.”
As they walked hand in hand to the van, Bryce couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a big mistake by bringing her here. It had been one of his favorite places in the whole world—and thanks to the marines, he’d traveled the globe—yet he’d never shared the spot with anyone.
He’d been nine or ten when Olive had first brought him here. It had been during one of his parents’ trips to DC to protest—he couldn’t even remember what that particular “cause” had been—but he remembered Olive smoothing a blanket onto the ground and ordering him to sit beside her.
“This is where I come,” she’d confessed, “when I’m feeling lonely and afraid, when I don’t know how many more challenges I can handle before collapsing under their weight.” Sliding her Bible from her bag, she’d told Bryce to find I Corinthians, chapter 10, verse 13.
“ ‘There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man,’ ” he’d read haltingly, “ ‘but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.’ ” When he’d finished, Bryce admitted he hadn’t understood a word of it.
“It means,” Olive had said, “that the Father knows you better than anyone in your life, so He knows exactly how much pain and pressure you can handle. And because He knows there will be times when you think He’s forgotten what your limits are, He gave you this verse, to remind you that no matter how tough life seems, He’ll always, always provide the strength to cope…or a door to escape through.”
He’d leaned on the advice—and the verse—more times than he could count. And returned to this place more times than he could count, to make tough decisions or escape bad memories.
“When’s the best time to see the aurora borealis?” Sam asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Couple of weeks, I guess.”
“When was the last time you saw it?”
“Hard not to see it when you live here. It’s up there, every night for months…when it isn’t cloudy, that is.” And then, without knowing why, Bryce launched into a mini lecture, explaining that it’s up there high in the atmosphere, a miraculous blend of oxygen and nitrogen, molecules, electrons, and protons that moves in a colorful curtain against a backdrop of inky sky.
He heard himself droning on and on, sharing every fact and bit of minutia he’d learned about it over the years, knowing that he sounded like a monotonous college professor, yet powerless to shut himself up. And God bless her, Sam sat in the passenger seat, nodding and smiling as if he’d woven a tale that ranked up there with Gone with the Wind.
“Still feel like it’s a big deal?” she asked. “Or have you grown so accustomed to it, you sorta forget it’s there?”
“Depends,” he said with a grin, “on who’s watching it with me.” Hopefully, he could time it so she’d hear the distant, haunting notes of the train whistle while she watched them for the first time.
They drove in silence for a few miles—something Debbie had never been able to do—making Bryce acutely aware just how unlike other women Sam was. Man, but he wanted her to stay in North Pole, to learn to cope with the cold and nights of endless darkness and days that seemed to melt, one into the other. With her nearby, he might just learn to stomach the always-blinking Christmas lights and the maddening holiday music.
Sam exhaled a long sigh and then leaned against the headrest.
“Tired?”
“No, just drinking in that amazing view.”
He glanced slightly right, toward the peaks of the Alaska Range visible in the distance. “Some days you can actually see Mount McKinley.”
She sighed again. “Wow.”
He remembered the time he’d brought Debbie up here on a night when the full moon lit the mountaintops like a spotlight. He’d pointed out a shooting star, told her to make a wish…and she’d responded with, “How do you expect me to see anything with those stupid mountains in the way?”
Yeah, Sam was different, all right.
“Maybe we’ll bring your brother Bill up here, introduce him to Forever.”
She shook her head.
Before he could ask why, she shrugged. “I’d just hate to stand there, looking out at that magnificent vista, beside somebody who might not get it, y’know?”
The corny line from some old black and white movie pinged
in his memory, and it took all the willpower he could muster to keep from asking her where she’d been all his life.
Chapter Sixteen
Bill had decided not to rent a car after all, thinking he might get more out of the visit if he hiked, like Sam did, through town. He’d grown a strange little beard, and Sam did her best to pretend she liked it as much as he did. She generally disliked facial hair, with one rare exception in Johnny Depp’s portrayal of Captain Jack Sparrow. Sam grinned at the comparison, because with the scruffy fuzz on his chin, Bill could have passed for Johnny’s brother.
“Do you mind if we head into town,” she asked as he loaded his bag into the back of Olive’s car, “so I can shop for some wheels of my own?”
“Not at all. I think it’s quite wise, little sister, to get some advice from a car guy.”
She handed him the keys to the Jeep. “Better get used to it,” Sam told him, “because you’ll be drivin’ it home.”
He climbed in behind the wheel, and as he adjusted the seat and mirrors, said, “You’re calling it ‘home’ already?” Bill chuckled. “Mom’s not gonna be happy to hear that….”
“Then don’t tell her.” And regretting her terse tone, Sam grinned. “It’s so great to see you.”
“You, too, sissy.”
No one on earth was allowed to call her that except Bill. “So how is everybody?”
“Fine, fine. Except that they miss you, of course.”
“Good.”
He gave her a quizzical look.
“Maybe that’ll inspire them to come see me and get a taste of this amazing place for themselves. Those pictures I’ve emailed just don’t do it justice.” Sam pointed. “Take this exit and head north.”
“Do you already know what kind of car you want?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion.” Sam laughed. “Surprised?”
“Only that you’ve gone this long without one.”
“Well, like I told you on the phone, North Pole is a great little town. Everything is just a short walk. But that won’t be nearly as much fun once the cold weather sets in. Besides, Olive will want her car back when she gets home from her honeymoon.”
“So you plan to sit out the winter here, do you?”
“Of course.” She looked at him, hoping to discern his attitude about that. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re as cold-blooded as an amphibian, for starters.”
“Comedian.”
“Well, it’s true. I’ll bet you say ‘I’m freezing!’ ten thousand times between October and April. And it’s nowhere near as cold in Maryland as it is in Alaska.”
Since she couldn’t argue with that, Sam said, “We have furnaces here, too, y’know. And fireplaces, and wood stoves and—”
“We?” Bill shook his head. “Hoo boy, Mom really isn’t gonna be happy, is she?”
Sam winced. “I wish you’d quit saying that.”
“Sorry. Guess it’s true what they say.”
“What?”
“The truth hurts.”
On the heels of a deep breath, she asked, “Is that why you’re here? To talk me into going back to Baltimore?”
Bill gave her shoulder a gentle brotherly punch. “No, I’m not here to drag you back to Baltimore.” And shaking his head, he added, “I’ve been in Alaska—what, twenty minutes?—and already I can tell that’d be near impossible.”
“So you admit you guys were wrong, then?”
“When we said you’d never last out here, you mean?”
Sam nodded.
“Maybe we should wait until you’ve survived your first winter to point fingers. If you survive your first winter.”
“Silly me. I thought you’d be on my side.”
“This isn’t about ‘sides,’ Sam.”
“I suppose not.”
He gave her arm a playful jab. “Be fair. Would you have stood up to them if the shoe was on the other foot?”
He’d made an excellent point. Her brothers almost always formed a united front, and to disagree with one of them was tantamount to disagreeing with all of them, which amounted to an invitation to full-out verbal warfare. “Not on your life,” she admitted, returning the gentle arm punch as they spotted a car dealership just inside the Fairbanks city limits.
Within minutes, Sam had spotted the perfect vehicle.
“Won’t your friend think you’re a copycat?” Bill asked as she inspected the Jeep.
“Olive’s is maroon, and this one’s red.” But even as she said it, Sam knew that a degree or two in shade variation was nil in a guy’s mind. “And hers is an older model,” she added.
It took less than an hour to cut the deal that made the SUV her very own. “Let’s celebrate,” she said as they waited for the salesman to drive the car around front. “I’ll buy you lunch at the best eatery in North Pole.”
“Let me guess…the restaurant that gave your job to some wet-behind-the-ears teenager?”
“No way.” She laughed. “Though it might be fun to introduce you to the guy who owns the place, watch him squirm when I introduce him to my overprotective big brother…”
“Oh fine. Get me beat up on my first day in Alaska….”
She dangled the keys to her new car in front of his face. “Just follow me. And don’t worry. If anybody in town picks on you, I’ll take care of ’em.” Sam shook a fist in the air and laughed again.
In no time, it seemed, she found herself sitting across from her brother at a table at Dalman’s, ordering coffee and burgers with fries.
The waitress delivered squatty glasses of water. “So who’s this handsome fella?” Cora asked.
Sam didn’t fail to notice that although the question was for her, Cora’s eyes never left Bill’s face. “My brother Bill,” Sam said, “who’s visiting from Maryland.”
“Love the beard,” Cora said, winking.
Sam couldn’t wait to get him alone, so she could tease him for blushing like a schoolgirl.
“Back in a jiffy, Bill.” Cora wiggled her eyebrows and gave a flirty little wave as she walked away.
“What’s up with that?” he asked when she was out of earshot.
“What?”
He hadn’t taken his eyes off Cora. “I thought men outnumbered women three to one in Alaska.”
“So?”
“So with all those guys to choose from, why’s a girl like that flirting with me?”
“Oh, I dunno…maybe because you’re one of the best-looking guys in the restaurant?”
“Maybe I need to call the school,” he said, laughing, “see if the principal will let me come back to work a few weeks late. Or not at all.”
“I’d love that, but I don’t think Susan would.”
Bill’s expression darkened. “Susan is one of the reasons I needed to get away.” Eyes downcast, he fiddled with the napkin holder. “I saw her with a guy. She said he was just a friend, but I know better.”
“How?”
Brows furrowed, he met her eyes. “Friends don’t kiss like that, that’s how.”
Sam stopped his fidgeting by wrapping her hands around his. “Aw, Billy, I’m sorry.”
“No biggie,” he said, plucking a napkin from the holder. “It was only a matter of time.” And shrugging, he added, “Guess I wasn’t the guy of her dreams.”
Bill laughed good-naturedly, but Sam wasn’t buying his upbeat attitude. Not for a minute, because he’d taken each of his three long-term relationships seriously. More seriously than his girlfriends had, and it had cost him, every time. “Have you told the family?”
“Do you see ‘Idiot’ stamped on my forehead?”
“Been there, done that,” she said. “No way I’d want a repeat of their advice.”
“If you wanna call it advice.”
Their quiet laughter was interrupted by a deep voice. “Well, well, what have we here?”
Sam hoped her annoyance wasn’t visible. “Dan. How have you been?”
“Good, good.” He studied he
r face, then said, “Gonna introduce me to your new beau?”
Brother and sister shared a chuckle before Sam said, “Bill, meet Dan Brooks, the guy who fired me before I had a chance to show up for work in his hotel restaurant. Dan, my big brother, Bill.” She grinned and added, “The prize fighter.”
Dan’s brows rose high on his forehead and the hand he’d extended in greeting froze in mid-air.
“My sister, the kidder.” Bill shook Dan’s hand. “Some might call what I do for a living ‘fighting,’ but I call it ‘teaching.’ ” And after a hearty handshake, he went back to pressing accordion pleats into the paper napkin.
Cora showed up with their meals. “You wanna give a girl some room, Danny boy?” she said, frowning as she moved him aside with a well-placed hip bump. Flashing a bright smile at Bill, she added, “Some guys think ’cause they have a few bucks in the bank, they own the world.”
“Spoken like the proverbial woman scorned,” Dan countered.
The waitress dispensed the food and laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Looks to me like the good Lord was watchin’ out for you the day this guy gave your job to his nephew.”
As much as Sam agreed, she had no intention of getting involved in whatever dispute had inspired the angry interaction between Dan and Cora.
“Women,” Dan said, grinning. “Can’t live with ’em…and can’t live with ’em.” Then, “Good to meet you, Bill. And good to see you again, Sam. Say hey to Bryce for me.”
“Looks like North Pole has all the relationship drama of the big city,” Bill teased once Dan had left. “So how is Bryce?”
She felt the heat of a blush creep into her cheeks and hoped Bill was too busy putting catsup and mustard onto his burger to notice. “Fine.”
“You always were a terrible liar.”
“What!”
“Oh, give me a break, Miss Starry Eyes. If you like the guy, why deny it?”
“I’m not denying it. Or admitting it. I don’t know what I feel about him, if you want the truth.”
“Tell me about him.”
If he was bored during her recitation of Bryce’s finer qualities, Bill didn’t let it show. Then, realizing how she must have sounded, going on and on about Bryce, Sam changed the subject. “I wish you could stay a month, so you could see the Yukon Quest sled dog race. I hear it’s ten times more grueling than the Iditarod.”
