Mason ignored her first question. The answer, what brought him back to Heron, was too complicated for polite conversation with someone he used to know. That’s what this was, after all. Polite conversation. It was all he could handle at the moment, seeing Lily after so long. The shock of finding her there in Heron was more than he’d expected.
“I’m planning to stay,” he said, thankful to see the dog finally returning. It meant that he wouldn’t have to explain further. It also gave him a good excuse to remove himself from an awkward encounter.
Tired, but satisfied, Bernie came trotting back toward them. The sides of her mouth were turned up as she panted, making it look like she was grinning from ear to ear. She’d explored most of the yards up and down the boardwalk, knew where the other dogs in town lived. She was worn out from her run and appeared perfectly content in her new surroundings.
Mason turned and patted his knees, calling the dog.
Instead of going to Mason, she stopped at Lily’s feet, sniffing her. Lily reached down, patted the soft fur, and laughed when Bernie jumped up and licked her face. Then Bernie laid down on the boardwalk, rolled over onto her back, and demanded a belly rub. Lily happily obliged her. When Lily looked up at Mason, she was smiling.
“Beautiful dog.”
Mason shrugged off the compliment, irritated for some reason that Bernie was able to connect with Lily so much more easily than him. It didn’t make sense, to be jealous of a dog, but he was.
“She’s just a dog,” he said.
Besides, she was barely even his. He’d had Bernie for two months, ever since Dalton died. He’d only taken her in because it was his responsibility.
“You’re different,” Lily said bluntly. He was changed… and not just physically. The man in front of her was nothing like the boy she remembered, and it was more than just the fact that he was being so standoffish.
Mason narrowed his eyes at her.
“How so?”
“You seem…” She didn’t know where to begin. He was older, so of course he would be different than he was at the age of 17. But there was more to it. He seemed distant, cold. His outlook on life had clearly changed, and not for the better. “Never mind,” she said, deciding it was best not to point out his flaws.
“No, tell me.” His voice was abrasive. Lily heard the irritation in his words. “How do I seem?”
“Hardened,” she said truthfully.
“What do you know?” His words came out more harshly than he intended, but he didn’t care. “You haven’t seen me since we were kids. You don’t know anything about me.”
A memory from ten years earlier flashed through Lily’s mind. The words out of his mouth were almost exactly the same. You don’t know anything about me. It’s what he’d said when he broke off their year-long relationship without any explanation. You’re just a dumb kid. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that none of this is real? It never was. His words had shattered her then.
“I know enough,” Lily said, all of those old emotions sweeping over her. He’d been back, what, five minutes? And she already knew she didn’t like the man he’d become. “As far as jerks go, I’d say you’re one of the worst I’ve ever met.”
Lily patted Bernie on the head one last time, grabbed her tote bag, and turned to walk away. For some reason, though, she stopped and glanced back over her shoulder.
Mason glared back at her, still angry that she said he seemed “hardened.” It didn’t matter to him that it was true. It hurt to hear those words, especially from her. But what angered him the most was the fact that she still knew him better than anyone else. In a matter of a few minutes, she’d been able to size him up. And everything she said was spot on.
Yes, Lily was right about him. He was nothing more than a jerk.
Chapter 3
Mason grabbed Bernie by the collar and turned back toward the main part of town. So, Lily thought he was a jerk. That was no surprise. The last time they’d seen each other was the day he broke up with her. She hadn’t spoken to him since then. He’d actually been surprised when she threw her arms around him and hugged him. He hadn’t expected that, didn’t know how to respond to it.
Even as Mason turned and walked down the empty boardwalk, headed toward the south end of town, he knew he could have handled their first meeting a little better. If only he’d known she was still in town, he could have prepared himself for the encounter, thought about things to say. But the fact of the matter was, Mason just wasn’t good with people, not even with ones he’d known intimately.
He passed by the dock where his plane sat alongside the one he’d bought from Gus. Both planes were pulled up onto the dock, out of the water, and securely strapped down. The Beaver, he knew, was in sound condition, at least in terms of airworthiness. The Helio, on the other hand, he still needed to check out. It wasn’t that Mason distrusted Gus – he never doubted that Gus had sold him a solid aircraft – but he still needed to give the plane a thorough check to see what kind of shape she was in.
Mason had a lot of work to do in the off-season if he wanted to expand the business by spring. The office needed a paint job and some interior work. The dock looked like it hadn’t received any maintenance since it was built. He could do all of that work himself. It wouldn’t take much – some tools, a hammer, paint, and a fair amount of time.
Then there were the planes.
The interior of the Beaver was well worn. The passenger seats were torn and the flooring needed to be replaced. The interior work wouldn’t be too hard. He could order new seats and install them himself. The fuselage was strong, but the instruments were old. As soon as he found someone who did avionics, he was going to have the entire thing rewired.
He hadn’t even looked at the Helio yet, but he suspected it needed as much attention as the Beaver, at least aesthetically. Other than the required maintenance and inspections, Gus wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to keep up on that sort of thing. And while most people in the bush weren’t too picky about how the interior of a plane looked, tourists were a bit different. They wanted to feel like they were flying in comfort. They could get nervous about flying in a plane with a worn-out interior, as if a new leather seat equated a higher level of safety.
Mason knew if he wanted the business to look professional, he was going to need a more uniform-looking fleet. Both planes would need new matching paint jobs. That meant a logo and color scheme. He was going to have to hire someone for that.
He also needed to create a professional website to attract customers. He already had the regular mail run, as well as the occasional charter flights to take residents in and out of Heron. But Mason had a larger operation in mind. He wanted his primary customer base to be vacationers, mostly from the Lower 48. The only way they were going to find him was if he had a strong internet presence.
Of course, if he worked out arrangements with some of the local lodges, he could get their customers, too. Together, they could create vacation packages that not only included a stay in a remote lodge and a fishing excursion, but also flight-seeing tours. And if they were willing to refer customers to him, he could offer discounted flights into Heron, potentially boosting business for the lodges, as well.
And once he established a customer base, he would need to hire a pilot or two. That meant recruiting. As much as he loved Heron, not everyone wanted to live so far removed from the comforts of the city. Mason understood it might take some sweet-talking to attract a pilot to the remote community, and probably a hefty signing bonus.
Yeah, Mason had a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. But it was still his first day back in town. For now, he was going to get settled in and establish a routine. He wanted to reacquaint himself with the community before he immersed himself in all that work.
Besides, he still needed time to mend.
Mason found his duffel bag where he’d left it on the dock earlier and continued on, past the Pub & Grub, past the marina, and past the dock for the Alaska
Marine Highway. His house was the last one at the end of the boardwalk. It had been one of two cottages that Gus rented out to tourists in the summer. Mason had convinced him to sell the cottage as part of the business. He’d wanted both of them, but Gus had been reluctant to agree. Mason managed to persuade him to sell the larger of the two homes, the one at the furthest end of town where he wouldn’t have too many neighbors to disturb him.
It was a cute place from the outside, white with pale blue shutters. One half of the bungalow-style home sat on solid ground. The rest was held up on stilts over the tidal flats. When the tide was high, the house hovered out over the water. That portion of the cottage was lined with windows. They spanned the entire length of the cottage on the side that faced the inlet, encircled by a wide covered porch.
Mason pulled a key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock on the door. The lock caught, refused to turn either left or right. Gus had told him the door was a bit tricky, said he’d have to be “persistent” with it. Mason jiggled the handle until the lock relented and the key turned the rest of the way.
When Mason pushed the door open, Bernie rushed past him into the house, nearly knocking out his knees in the process. Seemed she was even happier than him to have a home.
The place was dimly lit by the fading afternoon sun. From the doorway, Mason reached for the switch on the wall and flipped it on. Only half of the houses in town were hooked up to a small power source. It ran from The General Store, along the shoreline, down the length of the main boardwalk. Everyone further inland either used generators or installed small solar and wind powered systems. A few didn’t have any electricity and had no intention of ever installing wiring. Mason, on the other hand, was glad to be on the power grid.
Mason dropped his duffel bag on the floor in the living room and looked around. Bernie had already checked out the living room and was in the process of inspecting the other rooms. Excitedly, she ran from room to room, wagging her tail as she sniffed everything.
The two bedroom house was completely furnished, though not necessarily to Mason’s liking. The furnishings were a mismatched collection of armchairs, end tables, and a sofa. Mason recognized some of the things. A wall tapestry hanging on one wall of the living room had belonged to his mother. The red and white striped armchair had been theirs, too. His parents had sold the items right before they moved, rather than paying to ship them north.
Mason walked through the living room, down a short hallway that led to the bathroom and two other rooms.
The larger of the two, the master bedroom, was decorated with frilly lace curtains and a queen-sized bed covered in a floral duvet. The wall color was pale pink and the room was most definitely decorated with a feminine touch. There was no way Mason could sleep in there, at least not for any length of time. He’d need to completely redo that room.
The spare bedroom held two twin-sized beds and had been decorated with children in mind. The furnishings in there, he decided, would have to go, as well. His parents would likely never visit, and he didn’t expect to ever have overnight company, so there was no need for a spare bedroom. He would turn that room into a hobby workshop. With its view of the water, it would be a nice spot to build model airplanes and repair his small collection of motorized planes.
The rest of the house – a galley-style kitchen, separate breakfast nook, and laundry room – was livable. Eventually, he thought, he might update the living room and kitchen, maybe change the paint color and make some minor improvements. But for now, they were fine.
Mason went back to the living room, where he found Bernie perched on the couch, looking at him curiously. When he picked up his duffel bag and took it to the bedroom, she laid down and stretched out. They were obviously staying, she decided.
He tossed the duffel onto the bed and unzipped it.
The first thing he pulled out of the bag was a framed photograph. It was of him and Dalton. One of the last pictures of the two of them together before Mason left and joined the Air Force. They were both grinning wildly.
Mason sat the photograph on the bed. He would find a place for it later.
He began unpacking his clothes and organizing them in the dresser, but stopped when the desk along the opposite wall caught his eye. Mason recognized that piece of furniture, too. He walked over to the old oak desk and ran his fingers along the imperfect surface. The desk had been his. He and Dalton spent an entire summer building it. It almost brought a smile to his face. Almost.
Mason got down on his knees and inspected the underside of the desk. There it was. Mason & Lily. He’d carved their names on the desk the summer he fell in love with her.
Sitting down on the floor, Mason leaned his back against the side of the bed and stared at the desk. It brought back so many memories.
Lily. She was a gangly girl who followed him and Dalton around for years when they were younger. He was 16 when he finally opened his eyes and saw the beautiful young woman Lily had grown into. It was like it happened overnight. In an instant, she stole his heart. But he didn’t mind, not one bit.
They shared a single kiss. And Mason knew, in that instant, his life would never be the same. Lily was the one. The only.
From that point on, they were inseparable. Every spare moment he had, Mason spent it with Lily. Looking back, he realized, those eleven months together were the best time of his life. Never before her, and never since, had he felt so alive.
Impulsively, Mason reached for the desk and traced his fingertips over the letters, feeling the etching. The scarred wood was just another reminder of all the damage he’d done. He’d hurt Lily, the only girl he’d ever loved, the girl he’d planned to marry.
It was a past he regretted, but the damage was done and it couldn’t be undone.
As hard as he’d tried to put it behind him, Mason felt the wound as fresh as it had been ten years earlier. Breaking up with Lily was the hardest thing he’d ever done. But he didn’t have a choice, not really. His parents made him do it. They threatened to take him away from Heron, and from Lily, if he didn’t break it off. At 17, he figured there wasn’t much they could do to keep him away from her, but he didn’t want to chance it. He couldn’t bear the thought of not being near her. If he wanted to be part of her life, even if it was only from the perimeter, he had to call it quits. So that’s what he did.
And he regretted it instantly.
He’d gone back to their spot the next day. It was a discreet cove just south of town where they often met. It was where he had first kissed Lily. It was where he’d planned to propose. It was also where either of them instinctively went whenever they needed to get away from everything.
Mason had hoped to find Lily there. She wasn’t.
He found out later, she’d gone to Juneau to spend the rest of the summer with her mother. He tried phoning her, but Lily’s mother answered the phone and told him Lily wasn’t accepting calls. The only thing he could do was wait until summer ended and Lily returned. School would start anew and she would have to come back. Then he would explain everything and beg for her forgiveness.
But he never got the chance. Before he knew it, his parents announced they were moving to Anchorage. Mason told them he wouldn’t go, but what choice did he really have? He still had one year of high school left. There was no way he could support himself. He needed to go with them. Besides, even if he tried to stay, his pop would have physically dragged him with them.
So he agreed to leave with them. And as a result, Mason never saw Lily again. By the time she returned at the end of summer, he was hundreds of miles away.
The clip, clop of Bernie’s paws on the hardwood floors alerted Mason to her presence before she appeared in the doorway. She stopped, stretched, and then jumped up onto the bed. Then she laid down and watched him inquisitively.
Mason ignored her and ran his fingers over the carved names one more time. He was just as scarred as the wood on that desk. He’d been such an optimistic young man, so full of hope. Everything, he’
d thought, would turn out as it should. Maybe things ended the way they should have, but they definitely didn’t end the way he expected, not the way he wanted. And now, there was nothing left in him, not a shred of the boy he used to be. He wasn’t the same person anymore. Not even close.
Mason stood back up and continued unpacking his clothes.
Too many bad things had happened to him since then. He’d made so many horrible decisions, the first of which was making that awful deal with his parents. He never would have done it if he’d known they were going to force him to leave, anyway. At the very least, he could have spent one last summer with Lily. He could have said a proper goodbye. Or they could have defied his parents and run off together.
But he had obeyed them. He was the good son. He did what his parents asked of him, regardless of whether it was what he wanted. Instead of college, he’d joined the military. Because that’s what his parents wanted him to do. He followed a path he never would have chosen for himself, one that never made him happy. At least it had taught him to fly. It was the one thing in his life that actually gave him some sense of fulfillment. Up in the air, he could forget about all the things that hadn’t gone according to plan. It was the only place he found any contentment in this crazy world.
Dalton, on the other hand, had always done his own thing. That’s just who he was. He never cared what their parents thought. He wanted to live life on his own terms. And look where that had gotten him. He became a drug dealer and an addict. He hadn’t turned out any better than Mason. No, he’d turned out much worse.
Sensing his distress, Bernie jumped down from the bed and sidled up next to Mason. She rubbed her head against his leg and then looked up at him. Mason thought he saw sadness in her eyes, as if she knew he was thinking about Dalton.
Sky High (Alaskan Frontier Romance Book 2) Page 3
