He was through with waiting. The next time he touched Perrie Kincaid, he wouldn't stop until every desire, every secret fantasy they shared had been completely satisfied.
Chapter Eight
Every person in Muleshoe, from the smallest child to the town's oldest citizen, one-hundred-year-old prospector Ed Bert Jarvis, gathered on Main Street to watch the games. In the middle of a long winter, any social activity was hailed as an "event." And this year's event was even more special.
Ed Bert, born in the year of Muleshoe's "boom," served as the grand marshal of the parade, a ragtag collection of decorated pickup trucks, dogsleds, snowmobiles and a pair of bicycles. They were accompanied by the town band, which consisted of Wally Weller on trumpet, his wife, Louise, on saxophone, and son, Wally Jr., on drums.
Perrie had never seen anything like it. Though the temperature still hovered around zero, no one seemed to notice. Fur parkas and mukluks were standard uniform for half the population, while the more stylish half chose down jackets and Sorel boots. No one stayed home.
She'd convinced Paddy Doyle to cover the event as a stringer for the Seattle Star. The barkeeper wandered around with his camera, hoping to find a few good shots to accompany Perrie's article on the mail-order brides and boasting about the press pass that she'd clipped to his collar.
The brides' competition had been scheduled for mid-afternoon, the final event after the general competition for the townsfolk. Contests of strength and speed were interspersed with a bed race, an ice-carving contest and an event that involved stuffing as many pickled eggs into a competitor's mouth as humanly possible.
To Perrie's surprise, the three brides from Seattle hadn't offered much competition in the snowshoe race. They had all dropped to the rear of the pack and watched excitedly as Perrie and four other women raced ahead. The four other competitors, all longtime Alaskan residents, hadn't entered to find a husband. Like Perrie, they were after the first prize.
Perrie managed to finish third behind a pair of sisters, trappers who ran their own mitten-sewing business from a cabin ten miles from town. They were stout women without Perrie's quickness. But then, they spent most of the winter walking around in snowshoes.
To Perrie's surprise, Joe met her at the finish line, offering words of encouragement as he helped her unstrap her snowshoes. Hawk joined them, and as the trio headed over to hitch up the dogs, both men gave her more advice on proper race strategy.
The dogsled competition was Perrie's best chance at a win. Hawk had informed her that his dogs were the fastest and best trained of all the teams. To add a measure of safety, the women didn't race together. Instead they covered a course of nearly a mile that wove in and out of town and were timed from start to finish.
Perrie nervously waited at the starting line, trying to keep the dogs from bolting in the excitement. Joe stood at the head of the team, hanging tight to Loki's collar. He sent Perrie a confident smile and a wink as she listened to Hawk's simple instructions.
"Don't let the team get away from you," he said.
"You're always in control. Anticipate the turns and make sure the dogs are ready. Then balance yourself."
Perrie glanced over at the woman who held the fastest time so far, a tall, slender competitor in her early forties whose brother had once raced in the Iditarod. "She was fast," Perrie murmured.
"She was smart," Hawk countered as he stepped away from the sled. "But you're faster."
Joe let go of Loki's collar and joined Hawk on the sidelines. "Go get 'em, Kincaid."
Perrie took a deep breath and waited for the starter's gun. At the sound, she yanked out the snow hook and urged the dogs on, running behind the sled for the first twenty yards. In her nervousness, she nearly tripped and fell, but she gathered her composure and hopped on the back of the sled just in time to make the first turn off Main Street.
"Mush, boys," she called, her voice gaining confidence as the sled gained speed. "Come on, boys, mush!"
The race seemed to pass in a blur, the wind cold on her face and her breath coming in short gasps. The dogs responded well, as if their pride were at stake along with Perrie's. Loki anticipated each command and Perrie's turns were smooth and easy. When she reached the final straightaway, Perrie urged them on and she nearly flew down the snow-packed street.
She crossed the finish line to a rousing cheer from the crowd, then instantly forgot the command to stop the sled. Panicked, she shouted to the dogs as they ran right through a small crowd of onlookers beyond the finish line. Now that she'd given them a chance to run, they didn't want to stop.
She saw Joe's face pass by and wondered if the dogs would continue running until they got back to the lodge.
Finally a voice boomed over the crowd. "Ho, Loki, ho!" Hawk called.
"Ho, Loki," Perrie cried. "Ho, damn it, ho!"
The dogs slowed, then stopped, and she tumbled off the back of the sled into the snow. A few moments later, Joe knelt down beside her, laughing and brushing the snow off her face.
"Are you all right?"
"I feel like an idiot," Perrie muttered, sitting up. "I couldn't remember how to stop them."
"Well, lucky for you, they don't take off points for style. You gave the crowd a decent laugh."
Perrie groaned and lay back down in the snow. "How badly did I do?"
Joe bent down over her and grinned. "You've got the best time so far. And the Seattle brides are the only ones left to race. Come on, get up. You need some rest before the wood-splitting competition if you're gonna win this thing. Hawk will tend to the dogs. I'll buy you a hot cocoa and we'll discuss your strategy."
She let him pull her to her feet and he slipped his arm around her waist as they trudged back toward the crowd. Several of the town's single men came up to her to congratulate her on her time and inquire if she planned to attend the dance at Doyle's. She smiled and nodded, too exhausted to speak.
"I suspect your dance card will be full tonight," Joe said in a tone that barely hid his irritation.
"Jealous?" she asked, wincing at a cramp in her foot.
"Of those guys?"
"You hold a rather high opinion of your charms, Brennan."
He pulled her closer. "I happen to know that my charms don't work on you. I'm just saying that if you do manage to win this competition, I can guarantee that you'll have more than a few proposals to consider before the evening's done-both decent and indecent."
"And what kind of proposal are you planning to make?"
He stopped and looked down at her, his eyebrow cocked up in surprise. "That depends," he said slowly, "on what kind of proposal you'll accept."
Perrie knew where this bantering was leading and she wasn't sure what to reply. Ever since Joe had first touched her that night in her cabin, she'd thought of nothing else but what might happen the next time they were together. Would they make love? Or would something push them apart again, some doubt or misunderstanding?
And if they made love, what then? Would she wave goodbye and return to Seattle, filing Joe in among all the failed relationships and forgotten lovers in her past?
Perrie forced a smile and turned her attention to the crowd. What other choice did she have? It was clear that she couldn't stay in Alaska. She had a successful career waiting for her in Seattle. Besides, she'd been told over and over again that Joe Brennan was not the type to seek a permanent relationship. And neither was she. Even if she wanted to love him, she wouldn't let herself.
Whatever had begun between them would have to end on the day she left Muleshoe. They could continue this little dance of theirs, maybe even make love, but sooner or later she would say goodbye. And knowing Joe Brennan, he'd move on to the next available woman.
The thought of Joe with another woman brought her own twinges of jealousy, but she pushed them aside. Falling in love with him would be nothing but disastrous. And allowing herself any regrets about what they might or might not do would only add to the mess. She could make love to Joe Brennan and then le
ave him. She could and she would.
"Do you think I can win the wood-splitting competition?" Perrie asked, anxious to put their conversation back on a more benign track.
"Sweetheart, I think you could do just about anything you set your mind to."
Perrie bit back a curse. Every time she thought she'd figured Joe Brennan out, he would say something that made her lose all her resolve. How the hell was she supposed to keep herself from loving him when he called her sweetheart and told her he loved her writing and touched her until her blood felt like liquid fire?
They drank hot chocolate and waited as the rest of the brides finished the dogsled race. As Joe predicted, she came out the winner and currently led in the point total. But it was plain to see that three other competitors had a distinct advantage over her in the ax-wielding department-mainly due to biceps the size of tree trunks.
When the wood-splitting competition was ready to begin, Joe accompanied her to her spot, then gave her a quick peck on the cheek, causing a major reaction with the crowd.
"We can see you got yer bride all picked out, Brennan!" someone shouted. "That legend is at work again!"
Perrie could only force a smile as a flush of embarrassment warmed her face. But Joe merely laughed and waved at them, taking the teasing with his usual good nature.
"Don't hurry," he said. "Just do your best."
"I'm never going to win. Look at those women! They could bench-press a Buick."
"Yeah, but you're much prettier, sweetheart. In fact, if they had a 'pretty' competition, you'd win hands down." With that, he turned and left her to stand in front of the crowd with the other seven single women. A tiny smile touched her lips and she picked up the ax and hefted it up to her shoulder.
She'd have three minutes to split as much wood as she could. And the rest of the day to savor the fact that Joe thought she was pretty.
The whistle sounded and she carefully set a log on end and raised the ax. Her aim was true and the wood cracked. A few more raps with the ax and one log became two and she repeated the process. Three minutes seemed like three hours, and before long, she could barely lift the ax, much less hit the log. Her arms burned and her back ached, and finally, when she thought she might just fall over from the pain, the whistle sounded again.
The crowd erupted in cheers and she collapsed on top of the woodpile. She watched as the judges worked their way down the line, counting the number of logs split When they reached her, she rolled off the pile of logs and rubbed her sore arms.
In the end, one of the Alaskan Amazons won the wood-chopping contest. She wearily pushed to her feet and began to scan the crowd for Joe, when the judges returned to her spot and placed a huge medallion around her neck. At first, she wasn't sure what it all meant, and Joe added to her confusion when he grabbed her and spun her around.
"You won, Kincaid!"
"I placed fourth," Perrie gasped, grabbing hold of his arms.
"No, you won. The whole thing. You had the most points."
Perrie gasped. "I won?"
Ed Bert Jarvis shuffled over and pushed an envelope under her nose. "Here's yer prize, missy. Congratulations."
Perrie squirmed out of Joe's arms and snatched the envelope from the old prospector's hand. "I won the trip to Cooper?"
"You did."
Perrie screamed and waved the envelope at Joe. "I won, I won. I'm going to Cooper!" She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. Then she looked up at him. His blue eyes darkened slightly before he brought his mouth down on hers.
He kissed her long and hard and deep. The crowd screamed its approval, but this time Perrie wasn't embarrassed at all. She tipped her head back and laughed. She'd conquered the wilderness and she'd proved to Joe Brennan that she could handle anything Alaska tossed her way. She was going to Cooper. In no time, she'd be back in Seattle.
The only problem was that she didn't want to leave Alaska. There was one more thing she needed to conquer… and he was kissing her at this very moment.
Doyle's was packed when they arrived. Music blared from the jukebox, mixing with the chatter of the crowd. Joe held tight to her hand as he led her through the press of people. He hadn't let go of her hand since he'd kissed her in front of the entire town. Odd, how they'd suddenly become an item. Everyone now looked at them differently, as if they belonged together.
Did people believe they were already lovers? Did they think he might actually be in love with her? Or did they all mink that she was just another one of Joe Brennan's conquests? She shouldn't care what anyone thought, but she did.
As they made their way through the room, she had to stop time and time again while the townsfolk congratulated her on her win. Finally, when she met up with the brides, Joe disentangled their fingers and continued walking toward the bar.
"He looks positively besotted," Allison said, envy filling her voice. "I don't know how you do it. You weren't even looking for a man when you came here and you end up snagging the cutest bachelor in town."
"I haven't snagged him," Perrie said, uncomfortable with the notion. It wasn't as if she wanted to marry him… although the thought might have crossed her mind once or twice.
Didn't every woman think about marriage, about a husband and children at least once in her life? So what was it about Joe that summoned such ridiculous thoughts? She'd dated men much more suitable-stable, trustworthy men with good careers and monogamous personalities.
Boring men, she thought to herself. Safe men. That was one characteristic that she could never apply to Joe Brennan. He was the most dangerous man she'd ever met. Maybe that's what she found so alluring, the danger that he might just break her heart. She'd been throwing herself in harm's way her entire career, and now she'd moved the danger from her professional life to her personal life.
"Well, you sure proved you fit in up here," Linda said, giving her a hug. "I can't believe you won the dog-sled race. I fell off three times. And Mary Ellen didn't even get on. The sled ran off without her."
"I had good training," Perrie said, glancing over at Joe and Hawk as they leaned against the bar. She distractedly listened to the brides' conversation, adding a comment here and there to appear interested. But all she was really thinking about was how long it would take before she and Joe were alone.
She caught his eye and gave him a little wave. With a grin, Joe turned to take a bottle from the bar, then made his way back to her. When he finally stood by her side, he wove his fingers through hers. The contact made her heart skip and start again.
"Come on," he said, leaning close. "There's an empty table over there."
He nodded to the brides, then led her away. When they reached a table in a dark corner, he pulled out her chair with unexpected gallantry, then produced a bottle of champagne from behind his back. Two wineglasses appeared from his jacket pockets and he placed them on the center of the table.
"Champagne?" she asked as she tugged off her jacket.
"We're celebrating," he said, sitting down across from her and tossing his own jacket across the back of a chair. He worked at the cork for a moment, then it popped off, champagne bubbling out of the bottle. "It's not Cristal, but it's the best Paddy has to offer."
He poured her a glass and then filled his halfway. "To the most determined woman I've ever met," he said, touching his glass to hers.
She smiled, then sipped at the champagne as she scanned the crowd. Everywhere she looked, she found men staring back. At first she smiled, but then she started to feel a bit uneasy. She took a gulp of champagne. "Why are they all looking at me?"
Joe leaned back in his chair. "They're wondering if they should come over and ask you to dance."
"But they asked me to dance the night I arrived here. What are they afraid of?"
"Now they think you're with me."
The bubbles from her champagne went down the wrong way and she coughed. "Am-am I with you, Brennan?" she asked, her eyes watering.
"You could call me Joe," he teased. "I mink
we know each other well enough, don't you, Perrie?"
"Am I with you, Joe?"
He gazed into her eyes for a long time, his devilish smile sending her back for another gulp of champagne. "Yeah, you are." He laughed. "You were amazing today, Perrie. I really didn't mink you could do it, but you did."
"I guess you underestimated me," Perrie said, tipping her chin up stubbornly.
"I have a nasty habit of doing mat," he replied. "In more ways man one." Joe reached over and took her empty glass from her hand. "Would you like to dance?"
Perrie nodded, wondering what he meant by his comment. How had he underestimated her? Was he still afraid that she'd plan an escape while she was in Cooper? Cooper Hot Springs was only a short distance from Fairbanks. Surely she could find a pilot to fly her to the airport One phone call to her mother and a promise to appear at Sunday dinner would secure her a plane ticket.
Although, if her mother knew she'd met a man in Alaska, the plane ticket would not be forthcoming. Her mother's fondest wish was for a son-in-law. A doctor or dentist. She'd probably even settle for a pilot, as long as he was capable of fathering her grandchildren.
The dance floor was crowded, but Joe found them a small spot and pulled her close. A country-and-western tune wailed in the background and he pressed his body along hers and began to move with the music.
He really was a good dancer. The first time she'd danced with him she'd been surprised. But now, he held her differently, more intimately, and dancing with Joe took on a whole new meaning.
She wanted to seduce him, to tease and taunt him with her body, to lead him where she wanted him to go. The glass of champagne she'd guzzled emboldened her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her hips into his.
Perrie had never tried to deliberately seduce a man. She wasn't even certain she knew how. But instinct overcame insecurity and she simply moved with the music, nuzzling her face into the soft flannel of his shirt.
A soft groan rumbled in his throat and she felt his heartbeat, strong and sure, as she let her hand drift over the hard contours of his chest. They made a slow circle around the dance floor, yet she didn't notice any of the other dancers. The music and the noise and the people seemed to recede into the distance and all she could hear was Joe's gentle breathing against her ear.
Dodging Cupid's Arrow Page 14
