Sawyer disappeared and John was about to leave, as well.
“John,” Charles said, stopping him. “I have a question for you.”
“Sure.” John looked at him expectantly.
“You’ve met Lanni Caldwell?”
“Sure thing. Duke has, too. He flew her in.”
Charles rubbed the side of his jaw. Either the beer was more potent than he realized or he was about to stick his foot halfway down his throat. “Is there a reason you and the other pilots aren’t…you know, interested in her?”
“We can’t see the point,” John replied without a pause. “She’s already got her eye on you.” Having said that, he walked away, leaving the screen door to slam behind him.
* * *
Boxes were stacked against the living room wall. Lanni groaned and pressed her hands to the small of her back. She’d worked all morning without a break.
A timid knock sounded on the front door. Grateful for the distraction, Lanni opened the door to find Scott and Susan standing on the porch. They both wore forlorn expressions.
“Hiya, kids,” Lanni said with a smile.
“Hi,” Scott said.
“Do you want to pick wildflowers with us?” Susan asked. Her eyes seemed incredibly large in her small face. “We wanted to get my mom and Sawyer some flowers for the wedding, but—”
“But Mom said,” Scott picked up the conversation, “we can’t go out on the tundra without an adult, and we can’t—”
“We can’t find an adult to go with us,” Susan finished.
“So, you wanna come?” Both children looked up at her hopefully.
“The flowers are real pretty,” Susan said.
“We even have a book,” Scott told Lanni. He knelt down and removed his backpack. “Mom gave it to us. It’s from the library. See?” He handed her the small book, full of color photos and numerous drawings.
“So will you come with us?” Susan asked softly, gazing up at her.
Lanni wasn’t sure how anyone could refuse these two. “I haven’t had lunch yet,” she said, “but I suppose I could make a sandwich and take it with me.”
Scott’s and Susan’s eyes lighted up as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.
“I have to be back before five,” Lanni said, glancing at her watch. Charles had phoned and asked her to dinner at his house at six. That would give her plenty of time to shower and change before meeting him.
“That’s okay. We have to be home before that.”
The kids followed her into the kitchen, chatting about Scott’s dog, Eagle Catcher, while Lanni made herself a cheese-and-tomato sandwich. Since she had the fixings out, she made extras for Scott and Susan, then added cookies and a thermos of juice. Might as well make a regular picnic of it. Almost in afterthought, she packed a can of pepper spray in case they had any trouble with bears.
“I’ll change my shoes and be ready in a minute,” she said.
“I’ll run and tell Mom you’re going with us,” Scott offered.
Lanni had just laced up her boots when the boy returned. “Mom told me to tell you she appreciates it.”
“We’ll have fun. We’ll learn about wildflowers together, and we’ll get a beautiful bouquet of flowers for the wedding.” Refrigerated, they should last until then, she thought.
They walked, Lanni in the middle, until Hard Luck was out of sight. The snow-covered peaks of the Brooks Range were visible through the cloud layer to the north, and a cool breeze whistled across the tundra. The flowers bloomed all around them in colorful array.
They found several patches of alpine arnica along their route. The yellow, daisylike flower with its pointed leaves was one of Lanni’s favorites.
“We can’t get all the same kind,” Scott insisted.
“What’s the pink flower?” Lanni asked, leafing through the book, which was coded by color. She knelt down beside the plant. “It looks like it might be this one,” she said, pointing to a picture.
“Parry’s wallflower,” Susan read slowly.
“It’s a member of the mustard family.”
“I don’t think Mom and Sawyer want a mustard plant at their wedding!” Scott said scornfully.
“But it’s pretty,” Susan protested. “We don’t have to tell them it’s really some old mustard plant.”
“All right, we’ll cut some of those, too,” Scott agreed, but he didn’t sound happy about it.
They walked farther and gathered arctic daisies and calla as well as a handful of northern primroses.
“We aren’t supposed to go near the berry bushes,” Scott said. He seemed to consider it a silly warning. “I told Mom we wouldn’t pick any berries for her wedding, anyway.”
“She wasn’t worried about that,” Lanni explained, relieved that she’d remembered the can of pepper spray. “Brown bears love the berries, and they wouldn’t take kindly to sharing with us.”
“Bears?” Susan repeated. Her head jerked up and she looked frantically around.
“What’s this?” Scott asked, kneeling down on the tundra to point out a deep impression made in the soft, spongy grass.
Lanni crouched down and examined the large footprint. “I think a bear recently crossed here,” she said, making sure her voice was calm. “They’re probably all over this section of land, especially with so many berries getting ready to ripen.”
“A bear was here?” Susan asked.
“Yes, sweetheart, but you don’t need to worry. He isn’t here now.”
“You’re sure?”
“No,” Lanni said. “But I don’t see any bears, do you?”
Both children glanced around.
“Don’t worry,” Lanni said. “Their natural diet is about eighty percent vegetarian. Brown bears much prefer berries and roots to meat.”
“So one might kill us, but he probably wouldn’t eat us,” Scott suggested.
“I think we have enough wildflowers,” Susan said nervously, “don’t you?”
Scott nodded. “I think so, too.”
“We can go back to Hard Luck if you want,” Lanni said, sorry now that she’d mentioned the eating habits of bears. “We can have our picnic on my porch.”
“I want to,” Susan declared, and Scott nodded again.
Lanni gathered the wildflowers in her arms, and the three of them turned back toward town. Scott and Susan stayed close to her side.
“What’s that?” Scott asked suddenly, his voice cold with fear. He gestured across the tundra.
Lanni had to squint to make out the minuscule brown figure. Her heart thumped wildly. “It…looks like it might be a bear,” she whispered.
* * *
Charles couldn’t believe he’d actually invited Lanni to eat a meal he’d cooked himself. Who did he think he was—some gourmet chef? His expertise was limited to a small number of dishes, most of which went into a microwave. He was pretty handy with a camp stove, but he wasn’t going to impress Lanni if he poured their dinner out of a pouch.
It was either prepare the meal himself or take her to dinner at the Hard Luck Café. Charles was well aware that he had no culinary skills whatsoever. But serving his own limited fare was better than taking her to Ben’s. By morning, the entire population of Hard Luck would’ve heard about him and Lanni and would be speculating about their relationship.
He could see it now. If they went to the café, he wouldn’t have a moment’s peace with her tonight—or any other night. First Ben would be over to fill their water glasses. Then he’d hang around, sharing the latest gossip the way he always did.
When Ben left, one of the other patrons would pick up the conversation. Before Charles knew it, everyone in the diner would be asking them questions. And they’d all hurry home to spread the word….
More determined than ever to make dinner himself, Charles scanned his cupboards. He had a box of macaroni and cheese. He could whip that up and serve it with smoked salmon. For dessert there was always canned peaches. Or maybe dried fruit.
<
br /> The freezer had several moose steaks left from last winter, but he didn’t know how Lanni felt about eating game.
After several minutes Charles slumped down on a kitchen chair. No wonder he was a bachelor. Macaroni and cheese just didn’t cut it—not for dinner with company.
He needed help. Tucking his pride in his back pocket, Charles hurried down to the Hard Luck Café. He found Ben writing out the day’s menu on a blackboard.
“It’s a little early for dinner, isn’t it?” Ben asked when he saw Charles reading over the specials.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Uh, how’s the Norwegian pot roast?”
“Excellent, if I do say so myself. I cook it in a Dutch oven with lots of garlic and bacon fat. Then I add a couple bay leaves and some ginger, and I make the gravy with plenty of sour cream.” He pressed his fingertips to his lips and made a loud smacking noise. “You haven’t tasted anything better this side of Fairbanks.”
Charles grinned. “What do you serve with it?”
“Mashed potatoes, green beans and a jellied salad.” Ben eyed him curiously. “Is there a reason for all these questions?”
“Yeah,” Charles said uncomfortably. “I don’t suppose you’d consider selling me a couple of those dinners as takeout.”
“Takeout? What’s the matter, have I got bad breath or something?”
Charles shook his head. “I’m having…a friend over for dinner.”
“Who?” Ben raised his eyebrows.
“None of your business.”
“I could make an intelligent guess. Obviously it’s someone you don’t want to bring here. Hmm, there’s got to be a reason for that.”
“Will you or will you not sell me two pot-roast dinners to go?” Charles demanded. Ben was as bad as Sawyer when it came to tramping all over his ego.
“I don’t suppose it’s Lanni Caldwell?” Ben asked.
“What if it is?”
“Then you got yourself two of the best Norwegian pot-roast dinners you’re ever going to taste, and at a bargain price to boot.”
Charles pulled out his wallet. “And you’ve got yourself a deal.” He set the cash on the counter. “I’ll be back in an hour to pick them up.”
“You want a little candlelight and romance to go with that?” Ben teased as he walked out the door.
Charles ignored him.
He was halfway back to the house when he ran into Sawyer.
“Have you seen Scott and Susan?”
“No.” Charles wondered at the urgency in his brother’s voice.
“What about Lanni?”
“Not since yesterday. Why?”
Sawyer frowned, rubbing his jaw with one hand. “Abbey just told me the three of them went for a walk on the tundra. They were going to collect wildflowers for the wedding bouquet. I’d feel better if the dog was with them.”
“How long have they been gone?”
“Three hours. They were due back an hour ago. Something’s wrong. I can feel it in my gut.”
Charles stiffened, an unfamiliar fear gnawing at his composure. “Do you know which way they went?” he asked, trotting toward his truck.
“South, Abbey thinks.”
Within minutes the two men were out of Hard Luck, bumping and jolting over the tundra in Charles’s truck. Sawyer lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes and scanned the rolling landscape.
Nothing.
The tundra had already claimed one life in his family. An aunt had disappeared at age five without a trace. Neither man spoke, but Charles knew what Sawyer was thinking, because the same thoughts were crashing through his own mind.
Lanni with those two kids. Talk about the blind leading the blind!
Charles wasn’t a man who often prayed. But he did so now, seeking protection for three precious lives.
“There,” Sawyer shouted, pointing southwest. “It looks like Lanni’s carrying Susan piggyback.”
Although Charles couldn’t make out the figures yet, he steered in the direction Sawyer indicated. When he saw them, he murmured a silent prayer of thanksgiving.
Lanni and the kids stopped walking as soon as they saw the truck. Susan slid off Lanni’s back, and they stood there waiting. The second Charles pulled to a stop Sawyer jumped out, and the children ran toward him.
When he crouched down, they scrambled into his arms.
“A bear came after us!” Scott cried, his voice trembling.
“Lanni saved us,” Susan sobbed, circling Sawyer’s neck with her arms and squeezing tightly.
Lanni stood no more than two feet from Charles. For an unguarded moment he simply absorbed the sight of her. Her hair was disheveled, her face red with perspiration and streaked with dirt. Nevertheless he was convinced he’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
“Are you all right?” he asked when he found his voice.
She nodded slowly. “We crossed paths with a bear.”
The hair rose on the back of Charles’s neck. “Were you hurt?” he asked frantically.
Lanni raised a shaking hand to her mouth. “Oh, God, I was so scared.”
Not caring that his brother was watching, Charles hauled her into his arms and hugged her as if he never intended to release her. She came without resistance, buried her face in his chest and wept.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “You’re safe now. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“At first the bear was a long ways away,” Scott was saying. “He was just a brown dot.”
“We could hardly see him,” Susan added.
“Then he started to run straight for us.”
“We ran, too,” Susan said, “as fast as we could.”
“Boy, can those bears run fast,” Scott said.
“Then I fell,” Susan cried, squeezing Sawyer’s neck even tighter.
“I thought she was gonna be dead meat, but Lanni stopped and helped her up. Then Lanni stood on top of a rock and waved her arms and told me and Susan to hide. Lanni shouted like crazy, and when the bear got close she sprayed him with pepper spray. At first it didn’t look like it was gonna work. We were afraid the bear was going to get Lanni, but he went away…and then Lanni started to shake real bad.”
“The pepper spray worked,” Susan said. “But if it hadn’t, Lanni’d be dead, and me and Scott next.”
“Oh, Lanni,” Charles groaned. Lanni would’ve sacrificed herself to save the children.
“The bear stood up, too, and he’s bigger’n a building!” Scott said.
“He was real, real big,” Susan put in.
Sawyer loaded Scott and Susan into the back of the pickup and climbed in after them. The three of them sat there while Charles assisted Lanni into the cab, then got in himself.
She leaned her head against his shoulder as if she no longer had the strength to hold it up. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered.
Emotion clogged his throat, and it was all he could do to keep from kissing her. To keep from thanking her for being alive.
He brushed the hair from her cheek, and she placed her hand over his fingers. At her touch, he shuddered with emotion.
“Lanni.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder. He didn’t know what to say—how to say what was in his heart. Raising her hand to his lips, he planted tender, desperate kisses there.
He struggled for words. “Dear God, Lanni, you could’ve been killed.”
“I know…I know.”
Pulling her to him, he searched blindly for her lips. With his kiss he told her what he couldn’t communicate in any other way. They kissed with the urgency of two people who recognize how close they’ve come to losing each other, an urgency mingled with fear. They kissed until the tremors of apprehension were replaced with tremors of passion and need.
* * *
“I don’t know why we aren’t leaving,” Sawyer said to the kids. They were still waiting for Charles to switch on the ignition.
Scott got to his feet and clumped across the bed of the truck
to the small window in back of the cab.
“I do,” the boy muttered. “Uncle Charles is kissing Lanni.”
CHAPTER 4
“Has everyone around here gone crazy?” Charles asked as he walked into the Hard Luck Café two mornings later.
“I guess you’re talking about the wedding,” Ben commented, reaching automatically for the coffeepot. He filled a cup for Charles and one for himself.
“Is there anything else?” Charles grumbled under his breath, taking a seat at the counter. He’d never seen anything like it. The entire town was being spruced up for the event. Folks were mowing lawns and cleaning out flower beds. You’d think the president was stopping by for a visit.
The school gymnasium, which was generally used for town meetings and the get-together at Christmas, had never been more elaborately decorated. Even the basketball hoop was filled with silk flowers. He’d like to know what Larry Bird would say if he ever laid eyes on that!
Since Charles was standing up as best man for his brother, he’d been informed that he’d need to rent a tuxedo. Tuxedos weren’t the only wedding paraphernalia that couldn’t be obtained in Hard Luck. Sawyer had kept his pilots busy for two days making runs to Fairbanks and beyond, collecting everything from tuxes to table napkins. The last he heard, Duke Porter had been sent on a wild-goose chase after a silver punch bowl. Charles wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t heard it with his own ears.
“Are you baking the wedding cake?” he asked Ben.
“Not me,” the café-owner said, raising both hands as if he wouldn’t touch that task with a ten-foot pole. “I’ve got enough on my mind worrying about the rehearsal dinner and the hors d’oeuvres for the reception.”
“Tell me,” Charles said, shaking his head, “just where does my brother intend to put everyone? Abbey’s parents arrive tomorrow, which is fine. Sawyer’s putting them up in his house, and he’s moving in with me. But there’s Abbey’s best friend and her husband, plus other family.”
Charles wasn’t keen on the idea of sharing his home with his brother, even if it was only for one night. Sawyer was an emotional wreck. The closer the wedding, the worse Sawyer got. Charles feared his brother would disintegrate into a hopeless idiot before noon tomorrow. He wasn’t far from it now.
The Marriage Risk Page 5
