SHIVER
Page 7
A soft light at the end of the hallway guided her to the main living space. She nodded to the few guests sitting around visiting. Must be five in the evening. Fiona would probably get a few extra reservations from this snow storm for the weekend. The snow machine trails in and around Chatanika were legendary.
She made her way into the kitchen and found her younger sister, Chickadee. She hadn’t seen her in days, either. Hadn’t even thought of her. Showed where her head had been. She’d neglected her son and forgotten her baby sister. Aidan definitely had to leave. She needed to get back to her life.
“Hey, Dee. What’ve you been up to?” she asked.
“I’ve been buried in mountains of snow at Shawnee’s place. Her dad finally dug us out and brought me home.” She flipped her black straight-as-rain hair, like a shampoo model, over her shoulder. “I thought I was having fun, but I heard you’re the one having all the excitement.”
Raven set the tray on the counter and took a seat at the table. “Excitement that I could have happily done without.”
“Is he as hot as Mom says?”
Raven arched her brows. “Mom thinks Aidan’s hot?”
“Okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Mom said dashing, but I interpreted that to mean hot.” She leaned forward. “So, is he hot?”
“It doesn’t matter, because he’s my age and you are only fifteen.”
“Yeah, but there aren’t any men around here. I’m bored.” She pouted.
“Don’t let Mom hear you say that.”
Chickadee looked around, fear flashing for a moment in her dark eyes. The kid ought to be scared. ‘Bored’ was a dirty word around these parts. If Fiona heard any of her children utter the word, it was bound to get them saddled with cleaning toilets, or worse.
Fiona breezed into the kitchen. “There’s my girls. Just who I needed to see.”
Raven and Chickadee looked at each other. Chickadee’s expression clearly wondering if the word ‘bored’ had brought her mother like a homing pigeon.
Fiona narrowed her eyes, planted her hands on her hips, and addressed Chickadee. “What’s going on?”
“You’re going to want us to do something,” Chickadee made the mistake of saying. Fiona looked to Raven who kept her mouth zipped.
“Well, in this case, you’re right. Bree called in snowbound, and I need a waitress for tonight. Who’s going to put on an apron?”
Raven refrained from commenting, though she did grin when Chickadee looked at her and batted her eyelashes as in, “Please, Raven, I’m too young and cute to waitress.” Raven shook her head. “I’m playing nursemaid. You get to be the waitress.”
“This sucks.”
“Chickadee,” Fiona scolded. “That’s a dollar you owe the swear jar. Better make it up in tips tonight.”
Raven bit her lips to keep from grinning. There had been many times when she had funded the swear jar herself. Now she was more discrete when she let lose one of the five ‘s’ words. At least around her mother.
Fiona turned to Raven. “Aidan’s fever still down?”
“Uh…” If she admitted Aidan was doing better, Fiona would rope her into waitressing too. “Eva said he still needs to be watched. Have you seen Fox anywhere?”
“He’s in the restaurant. Pike’s got him peeling potatoes. All this snow makes people hungry.” She frowned. “Aidan ought to get up and move around some. Lying about in bed isn’t going to do him any good.”
Aidan chose that moment to bump his way into the kitchen on crutches, wearing green and blue striped Bermuda shorts that Raven recognized as Lynx’s and a blue t-shirt that had ‘Alaska Grown’ written across the front.
Raven jumped to her feet. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Going stir crazy,” he huffed. She helped guide him to one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He sat and gathered the crutches in one hand. “I must be out of shape.”
“It couldn’t be fighting a fever for the last two days.” The body she’d sponge bathed was not out of shape. Raven took the crutches and leaned them against the wall. “If you wanted to get up, why didn’t you wait until I returned? You could have fallen again.”
The look on his face said he didn’t like her informing the room he’d had trouble earlier. “I didn’t know if you were going to return. I woke up alone,” he said, his tone almost a whine. He behaved a lot like Fox did when he was sick. Raven didn’t like seeing the similarities. She retook her seat.
“Well, I’m glad to see you feeling better, Aidan.” Fiona came over and patted him on the shoulder. “Let me reintroduce you to my baby.”
“M-o-m,” Chickadee moaned. Poor thing hated being called the baby. She’d been a big surprise to her parents as there were thirteen years between her and the youngest of the other Maiski offspring. And she still constantly surprised everyone.
“Last time you saw her, she was only three. This is Chickadee, or Dee as she likes to be called now that she’s older.”
“Wow, am I feeling old.” Aidan studied her. “You look a lot like Raven did at your age.” His voice turned soft, reminiscing.
Raven got up from the table and made her way to the sink to make a pot of tea. She didn’t need to think about how she’d looked when she was younger. Or how she’d acted.
Chickadee smiled. “As long as I don’t look like Lynx.”
Aidan laughed. “Nope, nothing like Lynx.”
Raven put the kettle on to boil and turned around. Aidan was looking directly at her.
“What about Tern?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Raven. “Is she still around, causing trouble somewhere?”
“Tern moved to Fairbanks and opened an art gallery type gift shop called The Arctic Tern,” Fiona said. “She’s doing very well. I’ve given up hope of any of my girls settling down.” Fiona arrowed a look at Raven.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Fiona moved to the fridge and opened it, pulling out sandwich makings. “Still a fan of my Reubens, Aidan?”
His mouth dropped open. “Yes, ma’am.”
Fiona smiled. She loved a man who appreciated her cooking, but this time she set all the ingredients out on the counter and turned to Raven. “Here you go, Raven. Make him a sandwich. Come on, Chickadee.” She motioned with her hand. “Let’s go help out in the dining room.” Chickadee grumbled but followed Fiona out of the kitchen, leaving Raven to wait on Aidan.
The lodge had a private kitchen for the family, and then an industrial version, with her Uncle Pike running the stoves, adjacent to a large dining room and restaurant for guests and anyone else after a hot, home cooked, Alaskan meal.
The tea kettle whistled. Raven turned off the heat and prepped her mug with a tea bag, pouring hot water into it, adding in milk. “You want a cup of tea?”
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
She placed a mug in front of him, along with the cream. “There’s sugar if you want it.” She indicated the pottery bowl squatting in the middle of the table.
“Thanks.” He reached for the cream and stirred, leaving out the sugar. He ran his finger down the side of the cup. “Great mug, love the colors how they bleed from blue to green.”
“Thanks.” She turned back toward the sandwich makings. “I made them.”
“You made this?” He looked closer at the mug. “It’s nice. Great form, stylish yet functional handle.” He glanced around the kitchen, noticing other pottery pieces. He picked up the bowl in the middle of the table that her mother used for fruit. “Did you make this too?”
“Yes.”
“You’re very talented. How did you get into pottery?”
“Long story.” One she didn’t want to go into right now as it was one of those choices made as a result of her teenage pregnancy. “You still want that Reuben?” She needed to get his mind on food and off her.
“Can you make a Reuben like your mom?” Aidan put the bowl down and looked at her skeptically. “If I remember right, you weren’t too handy in the kitchen.”
“It wasn’t so little.”
“You want to eat or not?”
“All right. Shutting up.”
“Careful, that’s one of the ‘s’ words.”
He laughed. “Fiona’s still doing that? Is the cost still a quarter?”
“Of course she’s still doing it. With inflation the fee has now risen to a dollar.”
“Ouch. I’ll have to put in an IOU until I can get to my things.” He glanced out the dark window at the snow-blanketed wilderness. “Have any idea when that might be?”
“Tomorrow, hopefully.” She sliced thin pieces of corned beef and heated them in a skillet. Toasting thick slices of rye, she spread on her mother’s secret sauce, and then transferred the heated pieces of meat to the bread.
“Man, that smells good,” Aidan said. She glanced up and caught him watching her, and raised a brow. He smiled. “Seems you’ve found your way around the kitchen, after all.”
Fox came busting in, carrying a plate of French fries, a smile splitting across his face, the dimple on his left cheek winking. “Look what I made.”
Raven grinned with pleasure at seeing her son. His face was alight with accomplishment and pride.
“Uncle Pike told me what to do, but he let me do it all by myself. I even handled the deep fryer myself.” He held out the plate. “Taste ‘em. They’re great.”
Raven grabbed a fry and bit into it, the taste exploding in her mouth, spicy and tangy with the perfect amount of salt. “Fox, these are wonderful. What did you put on them?”
He gave her a clever smile. “It’s my secret recipe.” He glanced over at Aidan, and his face brightened even more.
A twinge of uneasiness embedded itself in Raven’s heart.
Fox brought the plate over to Aidan. “How are you feeling, Mr. Harte?”
“Much better, thanks. And call me Aidan.”
Fox beamed. “Sure, Aidan.” He offered up the plate. “Try one of my fries.”
Aidan took a fry and bit into it, his eyes widening. “These are amazing.”
“Uncle Pike’s going to put them on the menu and call ‘em Fox’s Fabulous French Fries.” He set the plate on the table and claimed a chair.
Raven placed the Reuben in front of Aidan, along with a napkin and silverware. “Thanks.” He glanced up at her with gratitude. “This looks great.”
“You’re making Reubens?” Fox asked. “Can I have one?” He turned to Aidan. “Aren’t they the best sandwiches ever?”
Aidan laughed. “I’ve always thought so.” He took a bite and closed his eyes. “Nobody makes a Reuben like Fiona. At least that’s what I’ve always thought, until now.” He gazed at Raven. “Very good.”
Raven felt herself blush and turned away, a lump rising in her throat at the domestic scene. This was the way things should have been. She started another sandwich and listened to Fox fill them both in on the great day he’d had. Once school had gotten out, he’d trumped his friend Grand in a snowball fight, taken care of his dogs—all eight of them—then filled Aidan in on his plans to run his dogs in the Fur Rendezvous and then the Yukon Quest just as soon as he was old enough. And then, once he’d gotten a few wins under his belt, he planned to race in the Iditarod.
Raven added ketchup and mustard to the table and the kettle in case Aidan wanted to refill his cup. Once Fox’s sandwich was done, she cut it diagonally and placed it in front of her son.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Aidan asked her.
She was too melancholy to eat. She went to shake her head, but Fox added, “Come on, Mom.”
Aidan, she could turn down, but not Fox and his sweet smile. She picked up a plate and took a seat, grabbing a fry. She wasn’t hungry, but they were good. She could get down a few.
“Here,” Aidan placed half of his sandwich on her plate. “I’m hungry, but my stomach doesn’t want to hold much after going without the last few days.”
She looked down at the sandwich, and tears filled her eyes. She rapidly blinked them back and took a deep breath. Why did he have to be kind to her? She didn’t want him to be kind. She wanted him to leave.
Raven had made choices that had left her a single parent. Those choices were based on good reasons. Reasons she still believed in. She picked up the sandwich and bit into it, even though she didn’t want it. She chewed and swallowed, went through the motions as her son continued to entertain them with his antics.
She prayed the roads would be clear tomorrow and they could move Aidan out. She didn’t want any more interactions between Fox and Aidan. Didn’t want them to become close.
Aidan would break her son’s heart too.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“All right, time for bed, young man,” Raven said, standing from the table. It was past time to call this ‘family dinner’ over. She bent down and kissed Fox on the forehead.
“M-o-m.” He gave her the look that said he wasn’t a little boy anymore, and please don’t kiss him in front of the man he was trying to impress.
Raven knew all of this, even understood it, but she was his mother and if she wanted to kiss her son on the forehead when he was sixty, she’d do it. “Come on. You have school in the morning.”
“Thirty minutes more?” he pleaded, his large dark eyes framed with long fluttering lashes appealing to her to give in. He must have picked that look up from Chickadee.
“Nope. Besides, it’s time for Mr. Harte to go to bed too.” She stared at Aidan and he wisely nodded.
“Okay.” Fox got to his feet and shuffled toward the back door, grabbing his parka off the hook where it hung among the others. “Am I spending the night with Uncle Lynx or at our place?” He slipped into the coat but failed to zip it up.
Poor guy had been batted around from relative to relative while his mother had been saddled with taking care of Aidan. “Our place. I’ll be there as soon as I get Mr. Harte settled. Remember to brush your teeth,” she hollered as he opened the door and walked through it, biting back the words to zip up his coat as the cold air flooded into the room.
“I’m almost twelve,” he hollered back. “I can remember to brush my own teeth.” He let the door slam behind him. She wondered, briefly, how long it took for kids to learn to shut a door instead of slamming one.
She turned and regarded Aidan, who was much too handsome in the soft, intimate light around the kitchen table. “You ready?”
“Where’s your place?” Aidan asked, getting awkwardly to his feet, and reaching for the crutches leaning against the wall next to him. The room seemed to get smaller as he stood.
She’d always loved his height and broad shoulders. Even when he was a thin and wiry teenager. Now that he was more filled out, she liked it even more. He made her feel protected, and delicate standing next to him, even though she knew she could lose a few pounds. She needed to keep her mind on his body. Off his body. Jeez. She was in more trouble here than she thought if her subconscious couldn’t even keep up. “We built a cabin a few years ago, just behind the lodge, through the trees overlooking the river.”
He stilled his movements, his eyes heating as he looked at her. “Fool’s Cove?”
Why hadn’t she just said her place was behind the lodge and left it at that? “Uh…yeah. Come on. Let’s get you to bed so I can get some sleep myself.” She reached for his arm to help him, but he stopped her.
“You built a cabin at Fool’s Cove? Where we first—”
“It had nothing to do with that.” Like she was so heartsick she’d built her home on the spot where they’d first—and many times after—had snuck away to make love. Get real. “The spot has an amazing view and access to the river, close to the lodge without being too close, and I got it for a song when old man Tack died.” He’d willed it to her as he had a soft spot for the young lovers he’d interrupted that summer. She’d always suspected he knew Aidan was Fox’s father.
But he’d never said anything, which she was supremely grateful for.
“Old Tack died? How?”
“Run-in with a bear.”
“Oh, that’s great. He always wanted to go out with a bang like that.” Aidan smiled. “Remember that time he caught us making love and proceeded to lecture us on birth control and family planning?” He laughed.
“Yeah.” Real funny. They should have paid more attention to what old Tack had told them. But then she wouldn’t have Fox in her life now. She urged Aidan out of the kitchen and down the hallway. The trek was slow.
No way was she staying the night again. She’d make sure he had everything he needed, tuck him into bed and be done. He was doing better, able to move around on his own with the help of crutches. If not graceful, at least he was mobile. He’d be fine on his own.
Following Aidan into the bedroom, she straightened his bedding while he brushed his teeth and used the bathroom on his own. He’d brought up the subject of a shower again, but the look she’d given him had shot it down.
He reentered the room, and she stepped back from the bed as he approached. “I have a glass of water here.” She pointed to the nightstand. “Your bottle of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Is there anything else you need?”
“Yeah.” He leaned the crutches against the bed and stood in front of her. “Who is Fox’s father?”
“What?” Her heart stopped. She stepped back, but Aidan grabbed her shoulders and kept her in place.
“All the talk about old Tack and Fool’s Cove got me thinking what I should have been thinking before.” He flexed his jaw. “Who is Fox’s father?”
Panic crawled up her spine. “None of your business.”
“I don’t believe that. I did the math. Fox said he was almost twelve when you reminded him to brush his teeth.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Is he my son?”
She swallowed hard and shook her head. This couldn’t be happening.