The door closed with an ominous slam.
“Perhaps we should sit down and talk about this,” Lanni said.
Charles shook his head, unwilling to be drawn into an argument. He felt himself weakening just being close to Lanni. Her smile cut straight through his pride and sliced away his resolve. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
“That’s not true.” Her voice remained calm and controlled.
“You’ll be wasting your time.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“I’m leaving town this afternoon,” he said sharply. That much was true—for some unknown reason his mother wanted to see him. She’d arranged to meet in Fairbanks. Initially he’d agreed with reluctance, but was grateful now for the excuse.
“I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back,” Lanni promised—or was that a threat?
His hands knotted into tight fists. “Lanni, no.”
The tender look she gave him told Charles it would take an act of God to get her to return to Anchorage. He could disappear into the tundra for weeks on end, often did, and it wouldn’t matter. Not to her. She’d still be here, waiting.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why are you doing this?” he asked in exasperation.
“Because I love you. We belong together. I didn’t understand that until…recently. Your mother helped me see—”
“My mother?” He was unable to hide his surprise. “What’s she got to do with this?”
Lanni’s eyes widened. “You mean to say she hasn’t talked to you yet?”
He didn’t answer. Frankly he didn’t like the idea of his mother meddling in his life.
“I’ve never been one to believe in fate,” Lanni continued, “but now I’m not so sure. It’s as if the two of us are destined for each other. I feel I was sent into your life and you into mine. And one of the reasons for that is to right a wrong done half a century ago. We didn’t fall in love by accident,” she said, her expression intent. “You, Charles O’Halloran, are my destiny. Love me or not, I’m yours.”
Charles could see that no amount of logic would help. So the only option she’d left him was cruelty. “I suggest you leave Hard Luck now. If you don’t, you’ll become just like your grandmother, wasting your life over a man she can’t have.”
Lanni blanched, and he saw how she took a step back as if he’d physically threatened her. The temptation to rush to her and beg her forgiveness was nearly overpowering.
“There’s something you’re forgetting in all this,” she said in a shaky voice. “David loved Catherine. You told me so yourself. Just like you love me. Insulting me and my family isn’t going to make any difference.”
It had to. Insults were the only tool he still had in his fast-depleting arsenal.
“I refuse to believe you don’t love me, Charles. You can try of course, but I don’t know how you’ll manage to keep up the facade when we live in the same town.”
“Fine, then. We’ll be lovers if that’s what you want.” He tried again, desperate to get her to see reason. “It was all my father was willing to offer your grandmother. And it’s all I’m offering you.”
She hesitated, her eyes revealing her pain. The confidence she’d exuded earlier had vanished. Once again Charles had to restrain himself from reaching for her, comforting her. He didn’t know what madness had possessed her to return. There was no hope for their relationship. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled.
She said nothing.
“So what do you intend to do?” he demanded. His patience hung by a fraying thread.
“Exactly what I planned from the first. I’ll help Matt for as long as I can.”
“Then what?” he pressed.
A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips. “I came back for you, Charles O’Halloran, and I’ll be waiting for you.”
* * *
“You’ve been quiet all evening,” Abbey said to her husband.
Sawyer sat in his favorite chair, feet propped on the matching ottoman. The Fairbanks newspaper lay unread in his lap as he stared blankly into the distance. “Something’s not right,” he murmured.
Abbey sat on the arm of the chair and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Not right with what?”
“My brother.”
Abbey kissed the top of Sawyer’s head. “You know, Charles has to figure things out for himself.”
“I suppose,” he said absently. He slid his arm around her waist. “I got word that Bethany Ross, one of the new school-teachers, is flying into town the first of next week.”
Abbey was relieved. The kids were just about ready for school if Susan’s recent chatter was anything to go by. That morning she’d found her playing school with Chrissie Harris. The two girls had become almost inseparable over the summer months, and Abbey was grateful her children had adjusted so readily to life in the Alaskan interior. They’d need to adjust to school here, too, but they wouldn’t be the only ones. The teachers—one for elementary school to the sixth grade, the other for seventh grade through high school—were also new this year.
It still seemed odd to Abbey that there were fewer students in Hard Luck than there were teachers in the Seattle school her kids had attended. Considering the size of the community, Abbey reflected, her children had made friends very quickly here. Scott and Ronny Gold had discovered each other the very day they arrived. It was almost the same story with Susan and Chrissie, who spent her days with Ronny’s mother, Louise.
“Charles flew into Fairbanks this afternoon. He didn’t say why he was going,” Sawyer said, breaking into Abbey’s thoughts.
“He doesn’t need to check in with you, does he?”
“No. It’s just that…”
“Just what?”
“He wasn’t the same when he returned.”
“Don’t you think that might have something to do with Lanni moving back to town?”
“Possibly,” Sawyer agreed, “but he knew she was living at the lodge before he left. Fact is, he was telling me what a damn fool she was.”
Abbey hid a smile. “A fool, you say. She must be in love with an O’Halloran.”
Sawyer chuckled and pulled Abbey into his lap. “I could take offense at that.”
Abbey’s eyes met his and the laughter drained away. “I was only teasing. You know how much I love you.”
“I know.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I’m worried. About Charles.”
“Don’t be,” Abbey told him gently. “From my admittedly limited experience, I’ve learned that things usually have a way of righting themselves.”
“My wife, the eternal optimist.” Sawyer kissed the tip of her nose.
“Don’t you feel Charles and Lanni should be together?” Abbey asked. It was something she’d sensed almost from the first. Fate. Providence. Whatever you wanted to call it.
“I don’t know.” Sawyer shook his head. “In the beginning I felt the same as you do.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know what to think. Charles is obviously miserable, not that he’ll admit it. At first I blamed myself—I should’ve told him who Lanni’s related to, and I’m still not sure why I didn’t. I guess I liked seeing him flustered over a woman.”
“Flustered?”
“The way you flustered me from the moment we met,” Sawyer said, touching his lips to hers. “Later I realized what a dirty trick I’d pulled on him, and I regretted it.”
“I don’t believe it would have mattered,” Abbey said thoughtfully. “Lanni’s being related to Catherine, I mean. He fell for her hook, line and sinker.”
“The poor man’s doomed.”
“Doomed?” Abbey raised her eyebrows. “You might’ve come up with a more flattering term. I believe they were meant to be together,” she said again. “Maybe this is too poetic, but what if the two of them are supposed to make up for the wrongs of the past?”
Sawyer grinned. “In other words, my poor brother really is doomed.”
&nbs
p; Abbey tickled her husband in retaliation, and then Sawyer found an even more effective revenge. It was a very long time before either of them worried about Charles or Lanni again.
* * *
Lanni sat on the top step of the porch while her brother worked inside the lodge. Matt was reviewing his finances, trying to calculate how soon he could advertise for paying customers. She knew money was going to be tight, but somehow he’d manage. He always had in the past.
As August dwindled to a close, Lanni could feel a new chill in the air. She drew her sweater about her. Mentally she reviewed her confrontation with Charles. It had gone much worse than she’d expected. She’d been completely confident she was doing the right thing when she returned to Hard Luck.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
When her brother realized she had no intention of going home to Anchorage, he’d been furious. He’d made his feelings on the subject extremely clear. He told her she was throwing away an opportunity that might not come again.
It was true; she might not get another internship at the newspaper. It was also true that if she didn’t take this last chance to salvage their love, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
But Charles didn’t want her in Hard Luck, and now it looked as if her brother would find a way to send her packing.
Lanni hugged her legs and pressed her forehead against her knees.
Despite everything, she couldn’t forget the gleam in Ellen’s eyes when she’d advised her to fight for Charles. What Ellen hadn’t told her was how hard Charles would fight back.
Although she’d tried to hide her reaction, his cruel words had hit their mark. By staying in Hard Luck, she was taking a risk—a risk that she might end up like her grandmother, loving a man she could never have.
She heaved a deep sigh, then raised her head.
A shadow appeared, stretched across the still-bright ground. Lanni’s heart quickened, not with fear, but with a breathless emotion.
It was Charles.
He didn’t speak. She straightened her back, and her heart banged unmercifully against her ribs. For one wild moment Lanni wondered if her imagination had conjured him up. It didn’t seem possible, after their confrontation earlier, that he was here.
Slowly she rose to her feet. She reached for the railing, needing its support. With a complete lack of haste, almost as if he was being drawn against his will, Charles approached her. One step at a time. One heartbeat at a time. One breath at a time.
When he stood before her, she could read the wildness in his eyes. She recognized his uncertainty, his pain. It hurt her to see him like this.
When she’d worked up the courage, she lifted one hand and brought it to his face.
Charles covered her hand with his and closed his eyes.
After a moment he opened them again. His gaze searched hers, and she felt the tension leave him.
“I’m tired of fighting a battle I can’t win,” he whispered. Then he pulled her, almost roughly, into his arms.
Lanni went willingly and buried her face in his neck. “It’s about time!” she cried, throwing her arms around him.
Not satisfied simply to hold her, Charles kissed her with an urgency that told her how difficult his struggle had been.
He inched his mouth from hers with a reluctance that thrilled her. “I met with my mother this afternoon,” he said, his voice low and ragged with emotion.
“Then you know about your uncle and…and the baby?” she asked.
Charles nodded. “Mother said she met with you earlier in the week.”
“Yes…”
“She’s happy, you know. Perhaps for the first time in her life.”
They sat on the porch steps, Charles on the top step, Lanni on the one below. He leaned down to clasp her hands with both of his.
“She told me how much I remind her of my uncle Charles.” He frowned as if he found it impossible to assimilate everything she’d said.
“It took a lot of courage for her to talk about him after all these years.” Lanni hoped Charles could appreciate what it had cost his mother to share her secret.
“My father always loved Catherine.”
“But he loved his brother more,” Lanni whispered. “And he did love your mother.”
“What you said about being my destiny,” he murmured, his hands cradling her face. “It makes sense now. I want us to get married, Lanni.”
It took one millisecond for her head and her heart to grasp what he was saying.
“Married?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
“I haven’t changed my mind.” She laughed through her glistening tears. “Are you nuts?”
“I hope you don’t want a long engagement.”
“No. The shorter the better.” Happiness filled her.
“I’m too old for you.”
“Would you stop making excuses?”
Charles grinned. His smile was lopsided and irresistible. Lanni moved up to sit beside him and brought her mouth to his.
They kissed again and again until finally he tore his mouth from hers, his breathing fast. His lips trailed the length of her neck, spreading kisses.
“Oh, Lanni, you tempt me.”
“You do the same to me,” she whispered.
He wrapped his arms about her. He didn’t speak for several minutes and seemed to be collecting his thoughts. “It sounds strange, but I think my father’s found a way to be with Catherine through me.”
“I know what you mean,” Lanni said. “It’s almost as if he’s…reached out from the other side and given us to each other.”
Charles kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about your internship,” he said in a brisk, practical tone, as if he’d had enough of fate and fanciful notions and wanted to return to the reality of their lives.
“We’ll figure something out later.” A career in journalism didn’t seem to matter all that much just then.
“But I thought journalism was important to you.”
Lanni leaned against him and settled into his arms. “It is, but I’d like to stay in Hard Luck. Perhaps publish a newspaper here.”
“You’ll need training and experience before you take that on. You’d have it, too, if you worked at the Anchorage paper.”
“But, Charles, my commitment would be for nine months. We’d have to delay the wedding. I don’t think that’s what either of us wants.”
“I’m not going to change my mind about us getting married,” he assured her. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. I knew that the day Sawyer married Abbey. I know it now.”
“I’d love to produce a newspaper for Hard Luck. But be warned, life might get a bit hectic, especially after we start a family.”
“A family?”
“Children, Charles. You do want children, don’t you?” She twisted around to look at him, her eyes suddenly worried.
He struggled for words, then nodded. “Yes, Lanni, I very much want children. With you.”
“Oh, Charles.” She shifted so that she faced him completely and took his face between her hands. “We’re going to be so happy.”
“Lanni—” he kissed her softly “—I already am.”
Keep reading for a special preview of
Under an Alaskan Sky
the second book in Jennifer Snow’s sizzling Wild River series.
Cassie and Tank are the ultimate will-they-or-won’t-they couple. Just when it seems like that might change, Tank’s ex arrives in town…
Coming May 2020 from HQN Books!
CHAPTER ONE
WOULD HER OBITUARY read brave or crazy?
Cassie Reynolds stared down the steep slope of packed snow that ramped at the end, sending Slush Cup contestants across a wide pond onto a crash pad on the other side.
Few had actually made it to the soft, dry landing. Most were shivering human popsicles standing on the sidelines, hoping they’d sailed far enough, fast enough, t
o advance to Wild River’s Slush Cup finals later that day.
Hoping? Okay, she was definitely crazy.
“No wonder it’s free to enter this event,” her best friend, Erika Sheraton, said, bouncing next to her to stay warm in the damp, cool April weather.
“I wouldn’t exactly say free. I think we’re paying with our pride,” Cassie’s brother, Reed, said, trying to cover his lower region in the skin-tight silver spandex one-piece body-con suit with the SnowTrek Tours logo on the back.
Cassie shot her brother a look. Each team that entered the Slush Cup was required to wear matching costumes. On the sidelines, there was a group dressed as hippies with wide-leg jeans and peace symbols on their tie-died shirts, a group of Spartans wearing short brown leather kilts and sashes over their bare bodies, and a group of werewolves in white fuzzy onesies… Cassie had planned her company-logo’d silver body-con costumes, thinking strategically.
They were more aerodynamic all dressed up like silver rockets, right?
“Oh come on, guys,” she said. “Where’s the spirit? Tank’s not complaining.” Neither was she. Her brother in the skin-tight suit was something she could do without seeing, but Tank, affectionately nicknamed for his six-foot-five, two-hundred-seventy-pound solid muscle frame, on the other hand…she could stare at his shiny silver ass all day.
“I tried complaining. It didn’t work,” Tank said, checking over their DIY craft—a dune buggy on skis that Cassie would use to attempt her flight across the slushy twenty-by-forty-foot pond in three minutes. This year, contestants had a choice of how they wanted to cross the pond: skis, snowboards or a homemade dune buggy. After breaking her foot in an avalanche accident months before, Cassie had opted for the buggy.
“I still can’t believe you signed us up for this,” Erika said, wrapping her sweater around her own shiny costume. Technically, she was missing the point, covering up Cassie’s company logo by wearing the big bulky sweater, but when Cassie had pointed that out, Erika had told her she could technically kiss her ass.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure none of us volunteered,” Reed said.
The Marriage Risk Page 15
