by Edie Claire
He sat up and blinked the sleep from his eyes. The rapping was real. But it was coming from the door of his cabin. And the woman yelling demands at him didn’t sound like any of his sisters.
“Hello? Please, wake up! I need your help!”
Ben rolled out of bed so fast he nearly fell on the floor. A woman? Out here? In the middle of the night? He groped around for something decent to put on, but quickly bagged the effort. It wasn’t like he owned a bathrobe. His flannel sleep pants and pathetically worn tee shirt would have to do. He stumbled into the kitchen, flipped on the porch light, and swung the door open, still blinking to clear his vision.
It was a woman, all right. A woman about his own age, and apparently alone. A quick glance behind her showed no sign of a vehicle. Where the hell had she come from?
“I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly, her sharp eyes looking him over warily. She took a step back.
He almost grinned. What woman shows up in the middle of the night, raps on a strange man’s door, yells at him to wake up, and then gets cautious?
He studied her as his vision cleared. She was tall for a woman. Her clothes were rumpled, she had a red indentation across one cheek that looked like she’d been lying on a zipper, and her bangs were sticking straight up on one side.
“What the…” he began uncertainly, his voice raspy with sleep. He cleared his throat, dropped his hands to his sides, and made an effort to seem less threatening. “I mean, it’s no problem. Is something wrong?”
Her green eyes flashed with indecision, but only for a moment. He could tell she was still assessing him, weighing her options. Evidently, she deemed him trustworthy. Relatively speaking.
He considered informing her with a straight face that he had not murdered any trespassers for weeks now.
He decided against it.
“I…” she began uncertainly. “I wondered if I could use your phone.”
Her voice was nice, he thought. At least when she wasn’t screeching at him. Low and mellow, with an almost musical quality to it. Her long brown hair accentuated her striking eyes and high cheekbones, not to mention forming the perfect complement to her lean, athletic figure. Zipper imprint or no, he could look at her all day.
What was he doing, again?
He gave himself a shake. “My phone? Sure. What’s the problem exactly? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, looking suddenly embarrassed. “I just need to call triple A to get my car out of the mud so I can get to a hotel.”
Ben blinked with confusion again. He cast a glance behind him at the clock on his microwave. The car in the mud he understood — he might have gotten bogged down himself if his boss hadn’t lent him the truck for tomorrow. The rest of it was a mystery.
“Um…” he said carefully. “You do realize it’s four-thirty in the morning?”
Her large eyes stared back at him like a doe in headlights. “It is?”
Ben couldn’t help but chuckle. The poor thing sounded mortified.
“But I just lay down for a minute!” she protested. “I couldn’t possibly have slept that long!”
He grinned at her. “And yet, here we are.”
The ghost of a smile turned up the corners of her lips. She had a beautiful mouth. She had a beautiful face, period.
“In that case,” she said sheepishly. “I’m really sorry to bother you. I should have checked the time before I ran over here. But when I saw your truck out the window, I assumed you’d just gotten home. I thought that’s what woke me up.”
He looked out behind her in confusion. “Your car window? Where did you get stuck?”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly. “I’ve been in the other cabin.” Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m not explaining myself well at all. I’m Haley Olson. Theoretically, I’m your new landlord.”
Ben straightened. “You’re related to Randy?”
She nodded. “He was my uncle.”
Now he felt sheepish. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head self-consciously. “Thanks, but I didn’t know him.”
“Then I’m sorry about that, too,” he replied honestly. Randy Olson had been one weird dude, but he did have a few redeeming features. It was a shame that the man had never gotten to know his niece. Nieces, in Ben’s experience, were rather delightful creatures.
“Look,” he said soberly, fighting a yawn. “Unless you have someplace else you have to be, why don’t you just go back to sleep for now and we’ll work this out in the morning? I can probably pull your car out with the truck. Where is it?”
She drew in a frustrated breath, drawing his attention to the rise and fall of her chest. Landlord, he reminded himself soberly.
“About halfway to my uncle’s house,” she answered, her tone weary.
She looked as tired as he felt. He considered her predicament. “Hang on,” he instructed, then he went inside to his closet, raided the top shelf, and returned to the door. “Here,” he offered, handing her a set of clean sheets, a blanket, and a towel. “This should make it a little more comfortable over there. Is there anything else you need?” Another look at the mark on her cheek made him turn around. He pulled a pillow off his bed and added it to her pile. “Okay?”
She smiled at him. Appreciation, as well as surprise, shone in her eyes. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He couldn’t fight it anymore. He yawned.
She chuckled. “Go back to bed, um… I guess I didn’t get your name.”
“It’s Ben,” he replied, still yawning. “Ben Parker.”
“Go back to sleep, Ben,” she repeated. “And thanks again. Really.”
She started off his porch, and he nodded and began to close the door. On impulse, he called out after her. “We’ll take half off my rent for the linens then, okay?”
To his surprise, she did not turn around. She merely laughed and kept moving.
“In your dreams, Mr. Parker,” she quipped.
He smiled out after her, watching in the first glow of twilight as her long, athletic legs jogged up the stairs onto the porch of her own cabin. Her shiny hair bounced behind her, then swung across her shoulders as she turned to wave at him, then slipped inside.
In his dreams indeed, he thought regretfully.
Chapter 6
Haley awoke to bright sun streaming through a curtainless window in a wall of logs. It took several seconds for her brain to sort through the chaos of her memories and make sense of what she was seeing.
“Oh, no,” she groaned aloud. How much had she overslept this time? She grabbed at her cell phone on the bedside table. It was just after seven o’clock in Alaska. Eight o’clock to her California brain.
She looked back at the rumpled bed with a smirk. Who would have guessed she could sleep so soundly? She checked her list of text messages, as she did first thing every morning, and was surprised to see none since yesterday. Her mother and sister were both night owls, and texts usually streamed in long after she’d gone to sleep. It took another few seconds for her to realize that she’d been out of cellular range since sometime yesterday evening. Most likely, as soon as she drove back into it, her inbox would explode.
She set the phone back down. Perhaps her exhaustion wasn’t so difficult to understand after all.
They would be worried about her. She would have to send another message as soon as she got in range. Never mind that they shouldn’t worry. They had no idea what a mess she’d made of last night. The last thing she’d told them was that she was very likely to be out of communication for a while, and not to freak out if she didn’t respond. She had promised to contact them sometime today, and that was all she’d promised.
They would be frantic by noon.
Haley exhaled and fell back upon the mattress. If only her car was usable and the landline was working, she could happily lie on this comfy mattress all day. Maybe even all week. A couple trips to the grocery store, and she’d be good.
She lay still a few more minutes, then reluctantly
got up. She walked into the tiny kitchen and looked out the window, cringing slightly as she remembered her blunder of the night before. She had still been half asleep when she’d glimpsed the truck outside and gone tearing across to the other cabin to demand a phone. Only when the door had been opened by a towering figure with rumpled clothes, a dazed expression, and wild, ginger-colored hair had she paused to consider the wisdom of her actions. He could have been a total fruitcake, and she was alone.
Thank goodness she’d been lucky. She might have cause to question her uncle’s judgment as of late, but at least he’d found somebody nice to rent to.
Her eyes left the window. She would not wake up Mr. Ben Parker twice. She would simply have to cool her heels and wait for signs of life. Which would be no hardship if only she could wash up, brush her teeth, and change into some clean clothes while she was waiting. But of course, her suitcase was still in the trunk of her car.
She rummaged through the cabinets and was delighted to find disposable cups and plates, a roll of paper towels, and an old jar of instant coffee. She’d given up caffeine before the pregnancy, but even a sip of hot water would hit the spot. She filled a Styrofoam cup at the sink, microwaved it, and decided to hold her pretend tea party on the porch.
She pushed opened the door and blinked down with amazement. Her suitcase sat right in front of her.
Did I say nice? She thought to herself with a grin. The man is a friggin’ saint.
Imagining that he might be watching her through his windows, she quickly grabbed the handle and rolled the bag inside. Before she had to beg another favor, she would at least run a brush through her hair.
She washed up quickly, pulled on some clean clothes, raided her stash of herbal tea bags, and went back outside. She would have loved a shower and shampoo, but she had no idea how much time Ben would have to help her before he needed to leave for work — or wherever. For all she knew, he’d been waiting for her to wake up for hours. He’d obviously been to her car and back already. Under the circumstances, she was glad she had forgotten to lock it up. But he would need her keys to haul it out.
She settled into her Adirondack chair, took a sip of lukewarm tea, and looked around.
Yesterday’s clouds were no more than a memory. The morning sky was azure blue. Forests of hemlock and spruce soaked up the sun beneath it, bathing the landscape in a sea of freshest green. From the gentle rise on which the cabin was perched, she could see lofty gray peaks of mountains in the distance, some capped with glistening snow. Birds twittered in the trees around her. She breathed in deeply of the cool, clear air.
Yes, she murmured softly. This is what I need.
“Good morning!” a cheerful voice boomed.
Haley jumped a little. She turned to see her tenant standing by the side of his truck, grinning at her reaction. To her relief, he bore little resemblance to the wild-haired, hulking figure she remembered from last night. He was quite tall, yes, but built lean, rather like a basketball player. His red-gold hair was wavy and longish, curling slightly around his ears, but at least this morning it looked comparatively tame. And as the sunshine shed new light on apple cheeks, an ever-so-slightly cleft chin, prominent dimples, and a devilish grin, she threw all caution to the wind.
“Good morning,” she returned with equal cheer. She set down her tea and rose. “Thanks for bringing up my suitcase. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“All part of the service, Ma’am,” he said playfully. “Now, how about we get that rental car out of the mud?”
“I suppose the agency would appreciate that,” she replied, stepping down off the porch to join him. “Although I think I could stay here and look out at this view indefinitely. It’s beautiful.”
He glanced in the direction she’d been looking. “How long have you been here?” he asked curiously.
“I just flew into Anchorage yesterday.”
He smiled. “Well, that explains it. If you think this view is something, you must not have driven down on a clear day.” He opened the driver’s door of his truck and gestured her around to the other side. “Hop in.”
Haley opened the passenger door and stepped up into the truck, noting the business decal on its side. “You work for Kenai Marine Tours?”
“Yep,” he said proudly, starting up the truck. “I’m a boat captain. And a naturalist.”
She stared at him a moment. Why the idea should strike her as so preposterous, she wasn’t sure. “Seriously?”
“What?” he asked good-naturedly. “Do I look like a lawyer or something?”
She frowned. She did not want to think about lawyers. “God, no,” she replied bitterly.
He turned. “You have a problem with lawyers?”
“I am a lawyer,” she said dryly. “And yes, I do. Can we talk about something else? What’s a naturalist?”
Now he was the one to look startled. “You’re a lawyer?”
She sighed. “Well, I was the last time I checked. But I haven’t been able to get email since yesterday. What’s a naturalist?”
He paused a beat, then answered. “Anybody with some expertise in natural history. There’s no real certification. In the tourist industry, it just means whoever’s getting paid to lecture on whatever the tour’s about. A lot of times it’s just some college kid who’s done a crash course with the guidebooks.”
Haley considered. “And in your case?”
He shrugged. “I have a degree in oceanography, but most of what I tell people on the tours, I picked up myself.”
They reached her pathetic-looking, tilted rental car, but he drove the truck on past it.
Haley studied his deeply tanned face and forearms. His skin was lightly freckled, but unlike most redheads, not at all fair. She supposed she could picture him as a boat captain. But the concept of his being paid to take tourists out on the ocean to lecture them about seagulls and glaciers seemed highly surreal. Her gaze moved down to her own hands. Images of herself sitting in meetings in over-air-conditioned conference rooms, typing away at her laptop while others argued across her, rose unbidden in her mind. What was happening at the firm, now? She would be desperately behind when she returned.
Her body tensed.
Ben switched to a different topic. “So, I’m assuming you flew up to check out your uncle’s property? Maybe see about selling it?”
“That’s right,” she answered, attempting to refocus. “It was left equally to my sister and me, so we’ll have to decide together. She’s ready to sell, but I thought I’d take a look at it first.”
He studied her a moment. “And take a look at some of the rest of Alaska while you’re at it, I hope?”
She remembered the view from her porch with a smile. “Absolutely.”
He pulled the truck into her uncle’s drive. This time, Haley’s eyes flew immediately to the red danger sign. How could she possibly have missed it last night? She glanced over at Ben to find him looking at the same thing. He frowned. Then he turned the truck around and shifted it into park. “I assume you don’t mind if I borrow a few of you and your sister’s supplies for the occasion?” he asked.
It took her a second to realize he wanted something of her uncle’s. “Sure. Borrow whatever you need,” she answered, watching nervously as he hopped out. The morning’s sunshine might have temporarily dimmed her memory of last night’s terror, but the darkness of the woods surrounding her uncle’s house — even in broad daylight — brought it flooding back.
Her eyes scanned the tree line. Ben had gotten out of the car without so much as a glance around. He disappeared around the back corner of the house, and her uneasiness increased. Did he know what he was doing? She was certain he had seen the sign. And he did live here. But, still…
It seemed an eternity before he reappeared, dropped an armload of equipment in the bed of the truck, and hopped back in.
Haley felt a sudden surge of guilt. Was she putting the man in danger, just by asking him to help her? What did “extreme caution” mean, af
ter all? She wanted to broach the subject, but couldn’t find the words. Men got testy when their skills of self-protection were questioned, and although dealing with testy men was one of her specialties, she had no desire to do it while on vacation.
Ben drove the truck back around in front of her car, parked it, and again leapt out without a care. He grabbed the equipment he’d borrowed, hooked up the rental to his hitch, then asked her to get behind her wheel. She moved to her car in a flash, then tried hard to focus on his directions rather than whatever might be lurking in the trees. In a few short minutes, her car was parked back up on the roadbed. Ben removed the tow strap and dropped down to examine the rental’s front end.
“Not a scratch,” he said proudly. Then he stood up with the equipment in hand. “I’ll just run this back to your uncle’s. It’s easier than turning the truck around.”
Haley looked through her windshield at the truck in front of her and tensed. She understood his point. The larger vehicle had barely made it around her car when it was half in the ditch. He couldn’t turn the truck around to return to her uncle’s unless both cars drove to the cabins first.
“But…” she protested, unable to stay silent any longer. “You can’t just walk there!”
Ben stared at her blankly.
She exhaled with frustration. “I mean,” she tried to clarify. “I really don’t want you to take any risks on my account.”
He raised one ginger eyebrow. “Risks? Like what? Slipping and falling in the mud?”
“No, of course not!” she returned. “Like…” She really couldn’t say the words. “Like whatever happened to my uncle.”
Ben’s expression sobered. He studied her a moment, then dumped the equipment back in the bed of his truck and returned to the side of her car. “What exactly did they tell you?” he asked.
She swallowed with discomfort, trying to look behind where he stood to scan the dense brush. Could they not talk about this someplace else? “The medical examiner’s office said he died of a heart attack,” she explained. “And that’s all they said. But according to my uncle’s partner in the dealership, the state patrol thought he’d been mauled by a bear. And clearly, the Department of Fish and Game agreed. Surely you can’t think it’s safe to be wandering around back here?” More of Ed Miller’s words came back to her. Wasn’t it her uncle’s tenant who had been sent to look for him?
