by Kay Lyons
Dylan wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her close. “I got into it with Zeke again this morning. I’m definitely going to check into buying that land I told you about.”
Good. He was making plans, putting the past behind him the way she’d urged him to do. The way he needed to do.
“But I’m definitely interested. Alexandra, you don’t have any doubts? Any reservations?”
About the fire, about him, about being with him. That’s what he meant. She gave him a soft, lingering kiss. “Does that answer your question?”
“I do like the thought of your cold nose pressed against my cheek for two more weeks.”
Alex watched as he gave her an oh, so slow and gorgeously sexy smile.
“If you’re sure, I guess you have a tour guide.”
Chapter 10
ALEX DOWNED HER LUNCH, ignored Zeke, Ansel and Walter’s questioning, inquisitive stares, then claimed fatigue the moment Dylan left to do some work he needed to do.
Dylan obviously had reservations about whatever was happening between them—with good reason after the betrayal of his past and what had been said—and so did she. But another worry was her credibility.
She had to write the review. She needed to get it out of the way, so when her vacation began she’d be completely free to enjoy her time with Dylan. His reaction to her being a reviewer was no longer a worry, now that she knew he planned to leave Zeke’s lodge, anyway.
Safely ensconced in her room, Alex stared at the screen of her laptop and reread what she’d written so far.
Deadwood Mountain Lodge’s location along Chakachama Lake is a nature lover’s paradise. Try a walk along the paths surrounding the rustic lodge, or sit on the dock and let your feet dangle over the edge as you practice your casting skills. Fly-fishing is a must-try for every traveler. Even this novice managed to catch the fish of the day and basked in the glow of a bonfire after being stuffed full of arctic char grilled to perfection.
She inserted the photos she’d taken the day after her arrival, then saved the document. With work—and the lingering ethical dilemma—nominally satisfied, memories of Dylan’s kisses took over and her body warmed. Her mind whirled in a totally hot-for-her-host kind of way but she didn’t know what to do about it given that she only had two weeks.
Why kiss him? Why start anything with him when she knew their time together would be so brief?
Because this has been the most romantic few days of your life?
It was true. Of all the places she’d traveled, of all the men she’d shared drinks with, danced with or flirted with, the time she’d spent with Dylan had been the most romantic. Last night on the dock beneath the northern lights, today on the boat….
She felt the connection building, but all too soon she would have to fly to Anchorage, return to work reviewing whatever hotel or resort David was sending her to in Cabo. And go home to Tennessee and face her family at Christmas knowing they were upset that she’d blown them off to spend Thanksgiving in Alaska.
With Dylan.
Just like that, her thoughts made a complete circle in her head and she was back to her original question. Could she handle something so casual?
Extending her stay at Deadwood Mountain when she sensed what could happen between her and Dylan was self-indulgent, even irresponsible.
Still, toss in the fact they knew little about each other and the crazy measure shot to ginormous proportions. Sure, he’d shared some about his past and her heart broke for him, but what woman in this day and age shared anything with a guy without first checking him out online? Amazing what you could discover about a person by typing their name into a few sites on the Internet.
At the same time, what if she shut Dylan down, walked away, and always wondered?
What if she and Dylan really had it, that magical, mystical quality some couples had, and she left on Saturday never knowing?
She wasn’t raised to do things casually and that’s what this was. What it had to be. The suddenness of it bothered her and yet already she felt more for Dylan than she had for past boyfriends she’d dated longer.
After watching her parents’ and grandparents’ marriages over the years, however, she knew she was a true romantic. She believed in commitment. At the very least she felt a person should get to know someone and form an emotional connection before muddying the waters with sex.
Haven’t you formed that connection already? And who says you’re going to do anything?
She dropped her head back against the headboard. It’s two weeks of sightseeing and touring and friendship. Companionship. Nothing else. Nothing that would make her leaving Alaska more difficult than any other place she’d been.
But what about the big question. What if being with Dylan was wonderful? Then what? She loved her job, her life, exactly as it was right now.
You’re the one who made the offer.
Yes. Yes, she had and she wanted to stay, wanted Dylan to be her guide for the next two weeks. But she knew exactly where those kisses they’d exchanged could lead. Would she be better off not exploring whatever this was between them? Safer? Smarter?
This was why people stayed single. All the questions and problems and stress? It was too complicated to be with someone.
She shook off her worries and focused on the computer because she wasn’t capable of answering questions that hadn’t yet become problems. First things first. She had to write the review.
Picking up where she’d left off, she typed:
The brochure doesn’t lie. The rustic lodge is 2,600 square feet of plank pine floors worn to a golden sheen, shared bathroom facilities that are clean but plain, and breathtaking views. Basic meals prepared by Zeke, a fabulous host who values bulk and sustenance over presentation. No five-star cuisine here, just simple, good-tasting fare: caribou stew with fresh-baked corn bread, moose steak with baked potatoes or, my favorite, fresh-caught fish grilled over a fire with bean soup, corn bread and Zeke’s chocolate cake for dessert.
Alex added the photos she’d taken of her arctic char, the filleting process and a shot of it on the mesh being cooked over the flames for David to select from and approve.
Getting into the groove, she hunted through the many photos she’d taken to find just the right ones, and gave herself over to pointing out the best features of the lodge. But once that was done and her many photos attached, she came to the difficult part—being honest about where the destination fell short.
My main complaints regarding this establishment would be the means of transportation—i.e., very small plane—and the lack of Internet and phone access. This is not a place to conduct business, and I’d be worried if faced with an emergency due to the remote location. The lack of outside contact is definitely something to keep in mind if you suffer from a medical condition of any sort.
She went on to list the lack of electricity after ten, the shared bathrooms and a few other little things she’d noticed during her stay.
By now you’re wondering if this tropical heat-loving girl would return to Deadwood Mountain Lodge. My answer? Yes. Without hesitation. The owner and his guides are informative, friendly and attentive hosts who will show travelers their Alaska. Not a tourist-filled street filled with shops and restaurants but the beauty of the earth the way it was intended to be. Rating: 4 stars.
Here she added the photographs she’d taken from the other side of the lake featuring the lodge with the mountain range towering into the sky, the red-and-white plane floating by the pier, the one-room cabins and the green truck parked by the toolshed. She also included photos of the northern lights, the dead trees poking out of the lake and the bear fishing, the eagles soaring overhead and the ducks on their journey south.
If David used half the photos, the two-page spread would be full and it would go a long way to promoting Zeke’s lodge.
Alex saved the review on her hard drive and flash drive before exiting the program, knowing the document still needed to be tweaked but allowing herself tim
e to mull over any additions or changes. A rating of four out of five was good, maybe too good. She had to be fair and that might mean taking it down to three-point-five due to the not shabby but older furnishings, the lack of private baths, et cetera. Again, something she could decide later now that the bulk was completed.
She closed the laptop slowly, her heart picking up speed. She’d tweak the review during her last two days at the lodge, and e-mail it to her boss the next time she had Internet access. But now there was nothing standing in the way of whatever happened next between her and Dylan.
The question was—what did she want to happen?
* * *
AFTER LUNCH DYLAN HAD excused himself and spent a couple hours chopping wood and a couple more switching out the Super Cub’s floats to wheel-skis. The process required using the tractor to lift the two-passenger plane out of the water, making the change, double-checking it, then readying it for flight.
The entire time he replayed the conversation with Alexandra, searching his mind for any signs of hesitation or disbelief on her part.
Truth was he looked forward to the upcoming two weeks with more enthusiasm and anticipation than he’d ever thought possible. Because if Alexandra stayed as warm and forgiving and genuine as she appeared…
He smelled dinner the moment he walked into the utility room. Alexandra’s laughter drifted to him, light and sweet, along with the deep voices of the older men. She’d mentioned downloading her photos and getting some work done. Given her mood after the heaviness of their discussion, he figured she must have made headway.
After washing his hands, Dylan stepped through the opening between the rooms, unprepared for the kick in the chest he received when he spotted Alexandra noticing Colt’s chin dripping in spaghetti sauce. Smiling, she leaned over and gently wiped Colt’s face with a napkin. Such a simple gesture, but it was also packed full of tenderness and caring. Colt went right back to eating but Dylan knew by the look on Alexandra’s face as she watched Colt that she was thinking of the fire, imagining him not sitting there right now.
He looked at Alexandra from beneath his long thick lashes, a shy smile curling his lips. The sauce was back on his chin, maybe deliberately so? Laughing, Alexandra wiped his face again. And Colt let her.
Looked as though Dylan wasn’t the only one curious about their guest.
* * *
ONCE DINNER WAS OVER and the dishes cleaned in a group effort, everyone settled in the living room. By request Dylan got his guitar and strummed a few tunes but often he found himself looking at Alexandra as she showed the others some of her photos. And no wonder.
Her whole face lit up when she smiled, and she had a sparkle in her lavender eyes that couldn’t be diminished. She laughed a lot, and enjoyed her life. And it showed.
“Hey, stop. Go back. That was a good one of me catching that lake trout. Ansel, come look at this. You should see this. She got that moose we saw the other day.” Walter pointed a finger at the screen. “Could I get a copy of that one?”
Shaking her head with yet another laugh, Alexandra shifted her position on the hard wooden seat of the dining chair, the click of the laptop’s mouse and keyboard blending in with the snap and crackle of the fire burning in the grate. “Sure. I’ll add it to the other ones you want.”
Walter didn’t seem to get that her photos were to be sold, not given away, but Alexandra didn’t seem to mind. She had a soft spot for both Walter and Ansel, teasing them as much as she was teased.
Zeke was right. His first impression of Alexandra had been skewed by his past experiences. Alexandra might possess Lauren’s flair for fashion but she was nothing like Lauren otherwise.
Drawn, Dylan set the guitar aside and moved closer to see her computer screen and the slide show of photos. There were a few shots of Ansel and Walter enjoying the scenery, but none of him or Colt that he saw.
In the scheme of things, it probably wouldn’t matter if she photographed them. He and Colt had changed a lot since he’d moved them from California. Anyone who knew him then would be hard-pressed to recognize him now. Before he’d been clean shaven, his hair shorter and expertly styled away from his face, his clothes expensive. But the biggest change of all was how he and Colt had both aged. Colt no longer looked like a toddler but like a little boy. As for himself, well, it was amazing what a beard and two years could do to a man. He looked ten years older than he was and definitely sported a lot more wrinkles and gray hair.
“I almost forgot,” Alexandra said when the show ended. With quick, efficient movements, she shut the computer down. “I’ve been meaning to ask where Colt’s cabin and corral came from. The set is beautifully carved. I’d love to get one for my nephew for Christmas.”
Dylan glanced toward the toys she referred to. “Those were a gift from one of the local families.”
“It was a thank-you,” Zeke added. “Storm was headed our way but the family had a medical emergency. No one else would risk flying out but Dylan jumped in his plane and answered their distress call. He flew them to Anchorage to the hospital and saved their little girl. Doc said fifteen more minutes and her appendix would’ve ruptured.”
Dylan felt Alexandra staring at him and had to make himself meet her gaze, her words from that afternoon repeating in his head. He knew he’d have done everything he could to rescue Lauren and her lover but when the world turned against him, doubts had crept in. As to the Foxx’s little girl… “I was the closest, that’s all. Owen Foxx carves the sets to sell in the craft stores and galleries in Anchorage and Fairbanks.”
“No need for her to get them there when you’ve agreed to be her guide. You can take her to meet Owen himself,” Zeke stated. “Alex would probably like his workshop.”
Alexandra gave Dylan a sheepish glance. “I hope you don’t mind. I told them you’ve agreed to be my guide. I wanted to make sure Zeke didn’t rent my room.”
“And like I told Alex,” Zeke said, nodding at Dylan. “There’s no need for either one of you to worry about leaving Colt with me. This late in the season it’s slow and Ansel and Walt have decided to stay on a while longer, too. They said they’d help me keep an eye on the boy while you’re showing Alex around. When Sam brings the hunters in tomorrow I’ll talk to him about flying them back to Anchorage on Saturday while you flight-see with Alex.”
It was a perfect plan. Almost too perfect? Either Zeke was trying to matchmake, which he no doubt was, or— “You’re not trying to convince Ansel to sign off on your physical, are you? It wouldn’t be legal since he’s retired.”
Ansel and Walter chuckled while Alexandra shot Zeke a look of concern.
“He was. But I’ve already talked to Zeke about the dangers of him flying alone,” Ansel murmured.
“You people sure know how to ruin a man’s mood. And that’s enough said about me never getting to fly solo again.” Zeke added a glare to back up his complaint.
“But you’ll get to fly with a copilot able to take over for you if you get into trouble, and that’s all that matters, right?” Ansel lowered himself into the recliner and popped the footrest up. To Dylan he said, “Walt and I had talked about flying home through Montana and spending a few days wandering around there but given Zeke’s invitation we figured we might stay on since we’re enjoying ourselves so much. Might even spend Thanksgiving if we don’t wear out our welcome.”
The words reminded Dylan about the argument he’d had with Zeke. Given Alexandra’s response to his past, he was reluctant to think beyond the next two weeks. Why get his hopes up when Zeke was wrong about being able to have a life?
There was certainly a lot more to tell Alexandra, but only time would tell whether or not he felt she could handle the reality of his identity. And God only knew if anyone could be trusted with the secret burden he carried.
Wasn’t it enough that Alexandra knew about the fire? Did the rest really matter if she believed him?
“So we can go there?” Alexandra asked. “Add the workshop to the tours? We ha
ven’t exactly discussed all the details and stops I had scheduled but I’d love to see this place.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll take you.” The moment the words left Dylan’s mouth, a scene popped into his head, this one more defined than the previous.
“Well, now that’s a problem. I could take you to Frisco with me but it’ll cost you.”
“How much?”
“A thousand dollars.”
“What? That’s preposterous!”
Jesse grabbed the woman by the waist and hauled her off his horse. The moment her feet touched solid ground, he swung himself into the saddle.
Evangeline Taylor from Boston, Massachusetts, was nothing but trouble.
He’d listened to her whine and complain the entire five miles to town, and he wouldn’t cart her to San Francisco without being well compensated for it, especially since he couldn’t gag her. “You want to get there in one piece or take your chances with a man who tried to flip your skirts the moment you were out of screamin’ range?”
“Ain’t that right, Dylan?”
Zeke’s voice cut into the fog. Dylan blinked to awareness, embarrassed to realize he’d been staring blankly at Alexandra while the setting details and dialogue filled his head in rapid succession.
Not a full scene, but it was more than he’d had in over two years.
“Dylan, are you feeling okay?” Alexandra asked.
“I’m fine. Just distracted,” he said.
Like it or not, he realized a fictional heroine was taking shape in his head. And Evangeline Taylor smelled like spice, had lavender-colored eyes and a proud chin that stuck up in the air and taunted the gun-slinger-turned-adventurer about to take her on the ride of her life. To San Francisco. No, the Klondike. San Francisco would only be the first stop.
In all the books he’d published, he’d never written about the Klondike and after two years of living here and researching Alaska’s history, it would be perfect…. But how could he even consider the prospect? For his own entertainment? Something to ease the boredom of winter while he planned his house?
