“Everyone loves Ben,” Christian said. “He—”
“The guy makes me mad,” Sawyer broke in angrily. “He should’ve hired help a long time ago. Running the café alone is too much for him.”
Christian felt the same kind of anger, but it was directed at himself. The symptoms had been there all along. The fatigue, shortness of breath—the very fact that he’d hired Mariah. He should have recognized Ben’s increasing weakness. His guilt increased tenfold, knowing he’d taken Mariah away from Ben.
Mariah reached for her jacket. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow morning. When you find out about Ben’s surgery, I’d appreciate hearing.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” Sawyer promised.
“Thanks.”
Christian didn’t want Mariah to leave, not until he’d talked to her. “I’ll walk you to the lodge,” he said.
“Walk her to the lodge?” Sawyer repeated. “Trust me, little brother, she knows the way. Besides, I need you here. We’re going to be shorthanded as it is.”
Christian felt like groaning with frustration, but when he looked at Mariah, he noticed that she seemed relieved. She didn’t want his company.
* * *
Five days later Christian sat in the Fairbanks Memorial Hospital waiting room. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Twice he looked at his watch, wondering how much longer it would be before the nurse caring for Ben would let him into the room.
Ben was recovering from his surgery, which had taken place within twenty-four hours of his arrival. He was said to be wreaking all kinds of havoc with the staff. One nurse had claimed she’d rather care for a roomful of newborns than take another shift with Ben Hamilton.
Christian smiled just thinking about it.
“You can see Mr. Hamilton now.”
Christian barely noticed the woman who spoke. He jumped out of his seat before she could change her mind and hurried toward Ben’s room.
To Christian’s surprise, his friend was sitting up in bed, and although he was pale, his coloring was decidedly better than before the surgery. Above all, Ben was alive.
Very much alive.
“Quit looking at me like you’re viewing buzzard bait,” he grumbled.
Christian burst out laughing. “Hey, it’s good to see you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t mind saying it’s a pleasure to see you, too.” Ben grinned, but the effort seemed to tax him. “I’ve been told that if it wasn’t for Mariah I wouldn’t be here now.”
“That’s right.” Christian pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.
“Speaking of Mariah,” Ben said, dropping his head back against the pillow. “You still denying you’re in love with her?”
A week earlier, Christian would have loudly denounced any such thing. What a difference this past week had made. “No,” he answered flatly.
“So, is she staying in Hard Luck?”
“I don’t know what her plans are at this point.”
“For heaven’s sake, are you going to marry her or not?”
Leave it to Ben to zero in on the one question that remained unanswered in his mind. It had taken him far longer than it should have to recognize the truth about his feelings for Mariah. In retrospect, he was embarrassed to admit how obtuse he’d been. He didn’t know exactly when he’d come to care for her so deeply—sometime between the day of her arrival when she’d chased her underwear across the runway and the night she’d saved Ben’s life.
Okay, he could admit he loved her, but did that mean he had to do something about it?
“I’m not ready for marriage,” he declared.
Ben chuckled, the sound pitifully weak. “Have you talked it over with Mariah?”
“No.” He hadn’t even told her he loved her yet.
“What are you afraid of, son?”
Yeah, Ben always did have a way of getting right to the heart of the matter. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t like he wanted to play the field; his dates with Vickie and particularly Allison had proved that. He’d gone out with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met and spent the entire night wishing he was with Mariah.
Even Vickie, who used to be head-over-heels crazy about him, was ready to toss him to the wolves because he’d spent their date talking about Mariah. Other women bored him. He wanted a woman who was strong and funny and brave and sweet.
A woman like Mariah.
“Seems to me you don’t know what you want,” Ben said.
“I do know what I want,” Christian responded. “My problem is I don’t know what to do about it.” He sat for several more minutes, thinking. When he looked up again he saw that Ben was asleep. He stood and gently squeezed his friend’s arm. It was time he went back to Hard Luck, anyway.
Ben was going to be just fine.
* * *
Mariah loved to sit out on the lodge’s porch swing. The September afternoon was glorious with sunshine. Colors had started to change and the tundra was ablaze in orange and reds. Snow would come soon; in fact, there’d already been a light snowfall a few nights before. Before long the rivers would freeze, and daylight would be almost nonexistent.
She loved Hard Luck, loved Alaska, and didn’t want to leave. She knew she needed to make a decision, but had delayed it.
Although Karen and Matt had offered to let her stay at the lodge indefinitely, Mariah had declined. Their generosity had touched her heart, but they had enough to do with the arrival of the baby and operating their tour business. An extra guest, even a paying one, would be a burden they didn’t need.
That meant Mariah had to make a number of important decisions regarding her future.
It also meant she couldn’t stay in Hard Luck.
And yet the thought of leaving filled her with unbearable sadness. Hard Luck was her home, more so than Seattle, where she’d been born and raised. Her friends were here.
Christian was here.
Moving the swing back and forth, she surveyed her options. She was so deep in thought she didn’t hear Christian’s approach.
“Mariah?” He stood on the top step and wrapped one arm around the support column.
Although his voice was soft, she nearly leaped off the swing, so great was her surprise. She could hardly believe he’d made it all the way to the porch without her noticing.
“Do you have a minute?”
He must’ve known she was searching for a plausible excuse to avoid him because he added, “I talked to Ben this morning.”
“How is he?” she asked, eager for news.
“Resting comfortably. He sends his love.”
“I’ll try to get into Fairbanks this week to visit him myself,” she said, realizing she sounded nervous. Well, she was. Being around Christian, especially outside the work environment, had always left her feeling tongue-tied and uneasy.
He walked across the porch and sat next to her on the swing. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
Mariah locked her fingers together, vowing to be strong. “I’m not coming back to work for you, Christian—no matter how much money you offer.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with the office. This has to do with you and me.”
Mariah felt as if the world went still, as if the wind stopped blowing, the sun ceased to shine and the whole world waited in silent suspension for him to continue.
“Us?” Her voice rose to a squeak. Resolutely she closed her mouth. Every time she talked to Christian, she seemed to say something stupid. Like raving about a salmon casserole. Or telling him to shut up because he was disturbing her fantasy. No wonder he sought out more sophisticated company. With her he got salmon casserole, she thought wryly; with Allison Reynolds it was T-bone steak.
“Yes, us,” he rep
eated. “Actually I’d like to know what your plans are for the winter.”
He wanted her gone. That was what this was leading up to. He was going to ask her to leave Hard Luck.
She remained silent.
“Matt told me you’ve decided not to stay at the lodge. That doesn’t give you a lot of options, housing here being what it is.”
“No,” she admitted, and looked away as the pain burned a hole straight through her. “Let me make this easy for you. You’re asking me to leave Hard Luck and I—”
“What?” he demanded, laughing as if what she’d just said was ludicrous.
Mariah didn’t take kindly to his humor. She had nowhere to go except back to Seattle. Her parents would suffocate her with attention and their plans for her future. She felt too defeated, too discouraged, to make a new start in some new place. What hurt so terribly was that the man who held her heart in the palm of his hand was the one asking her to leave.
“I’ll go without a fuss,” she whispered.
“Mariah.” Christian caught her by the shoulders and turned her so that she faced him squarely. “I’m not asking you to leave Hard Luck. Quite the opposite.” His gaze pinned hers and she read the truth in his eyes. “I came to ask you to be my wife.”
“Your wife?” she asked in confusion. “Is this a joke?”
“No man makes that kind of offer unless he’s serious. And, Mariah, I’ve never been more serious in my life. I want to marry you.”
Probably for the first time since her arrival in Alaska, Mariah was struck dumb.
“Say something,” Christian urged.
She was touched by the uncertainty in his voice. After all this time, he still didn’t know she was crazy in love with him.
“Kiss me,” she said when she regained the ability to speak.
“Kiss you?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Right here? Now?”
“Yes,” she said impatiently.
“This isn’t another one of those fantasy things, is it? Because what I feel for you is real.”
“This request is very real, too. Now shut up and kiss me.”
“Just remember,” he whispered as he reached for her, “you asked for this.” He brought her into his arms and slowly, methodically, lowered his mouth to hers.
In the beginning his kiss was gentle and tender, the way it had been the night of the dance. Soon it became more passionate. Mariah moaned softly, clinging fiercely to his arms. They quickly discovered that one kiss wasn’t enough to satisfy either of them. They kissed again and again.
A sensation of weightlessness stole over her. She felt as if she could fly, float effortlessly through the heavens. Already her heart was soaring.
“Soon,” Christian murmured, breaking off the kiss and burying his face in the curve of her neck.
“Soon?” she repeated.
“We’re getting married very soon.”
“But—”
“I don’t know any man who could’ve behaved like a bigger fool than I have this past year. I love you, Mariah. I need you in my life.”
Mariah brushed the tears from her face. “You’re...sure about all this?” Loving him as much as she did, she couldn’t bear it if he suddenly changed his mind.
“Oh, yes,” he said, and kissed her again. “Will you marry me, Mariah?”
Smiling through her tears, she nodded eagerly.
Christian threw back his head and laughed.
“That wasn’t supposed to be funny, Christian O’Halloran!”
“Not you, my love,” he said, holding her more securely in his arms. “Us.”
“Us is humorous?” If she wasn’t so elated, so filled with joy, she could take offense at this.
“We’re going to be very happy, Mariah.” He kissed her once more in a way that left no doubt as to his feelings. “I’ve waited all my life for you.”
“Christian! I swear you’re the most oblivious man in the entire state of Alaska.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “It took me a while to figure things out, but I fully intend to make up for lost time.”
Mariah laid her head on his shoulder and nestled into his embrace. “And I fully intend to let you.”
“I meant what I said, Mariah. I want us to be married as soon as we can make the arrangements.” He looked down at her as if he expected an argument, but Mariah didn’t have any objections.
Not a single, solitary one.
* * * * *
Ending in Marriage
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
One
Late September 1996
Tracy Santiago always cried at weddings. It embarrassed her because, for one thing, people might believe she wanted to be married herself. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. Tracy had high ideals; she also had strong opinions on a variety of subjects, most of which related to women’s issues. Any man she got involved with would have to understand that. So far, the men in her life had been a severe disappointment.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together this day to celebrate the union of...”
Tracy lowered her head and struggled to hold back tears. She was standing near Reverend Wilson in the small community church of Hard Luck, Alaska, as her friend and former client, Mariah Douglas, exchanged marriage vows with Christian O’Halloran. Tracy was Mariah’s maid of honor; his brother Sawyer was best man.
Almost two years before, the town had advertised for women—or, more accurately, had advertised jobs they’d hoped would bring women north. The O’Halloran brothers, owners and operators of a bush-plane business called Midnight Sons, had been the prime movers behind the plan.
In their eagerness to entice women to Alaska, they’d promised jobs, free housing and twenty acres of land if the applicants agreed to live and work in Hard Luck for one year.
“Do you, Mariah Mary Douglas, take...”
Tracy swallowed and tilted her chin, refusing to humiliate herself in front of the entire town—and even more importantly, in front of Duke Porter. The thought of him was enough to stiffen her spine and keep the tears at bay.
When she’d first read about the men in Hard Luck, Tracy had been suspicious. An article in the Seattle paper had described the proposal, which sounded too good to be true. Experience had taught her there was no such thing as a free lunch...or free land.
Her one fleeting thought that summer morning had been to hope that any woman who signed the contract would have an attorney look it over first. Heaven only knew what this rowdy crew of bush pilots was up to.
Little did Tracy think she’d be the attorney reviewing the contract.
A month later, Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph Douglas had made an appointment with the prestigious law firm where Tracy was employed. Tracy was assigned to meet with them.
It seemed the Douglases’ daughter, Mariah, had been hired by the O’Hallorans as secretary for Midnight Sons, and the couple was worried. They’d asked Tracy to investigate the people responsible for luring their daughter north. They wanted her to study the contract, find a way to break it and bring Mariah safely home.
Tracy remembered how Mariah’s parents had characterized their daughter—as gentle, fragile, naive and easily swayed by control-seeking men. They’d feared that Mariah had made a terrible mistake. Pride, they suspected, was the only thing that kept her in Alaska. Tracy believed the Douglases were justifiably worried.
Her voice shaking,
Mrs. Douglas had talked about Mariah’s decision to leave Seattle. Tracy was provoked to fury by the idea of a bunch of men taking advantage of young women, especially women like Mariah. She eagerly accepted the assignment and immediately made plans to investigate the matter. Within the week, she’d traveled to Hard Luck.
She’d been prepared to do battle for the rights of Mariah and the other hapless women, but nothing had gone quite as she’d expected. To her astonishment, what she’d discovered was a tight-knit community hard at work, forging a future for their families.
Tracy had interviewed the women who’d signed contracts with the O’Halloran brothers. She was more than a little surprised to find them content and even happy, despite the almost primitive living conditions.
The biggest surprise had been Mariah Douglas. The woman was nothing like her parents had described. Gentle and softhearted, yes. Gullible and easily swayed, no.
For her part, Mariah was embarrassed by her family’s insistence that she return to Seattle. The very reason she’d applied for the job in Hard Luck was to escape her parents and their domineering ways. Alaska offered her the opportunity to create her own life without their constant interference.
The Douglases had wanted to file a lawsuit against the O’Hallorans, but Mariah had refused to cooperate, so it became a moot point.
“Do you, Christian Anton O’Halloran, take as...”
Out of the corner of her eye, Tracy caught sight of Duke Porter. He’d positioned himself on the bride’s side of the church just so he could fluster her. Tracy would’ve bet her grandmother’s cameo on that.
It was during her first visit to Hard Luck that Tracy had met Duke Porter, one of the pilots employed by Midnight Sons. Duke epitomized everything she disliked about men. He was an opinionated, stubborn chauvinist who had no qualms about sharing his outdated views of women.
Duke referred to women as “the weaker sex.” He was the type of man who resented any woman in a position of power. The aptly named Duke Porter might look like the rugged hero of an old-fashioned Western; the trouble was he sounded like one, too.