“But—”

  “We’re better off making do with what we have,” she said, cutting off his argument.

  “Are you always this stubborn?”

  Abbey’s eyes widened as if his question surprised her. “I didn’t realize I was being stubborn. It doesn’t make sense to play musical houses when we have a perfectly good—When we have a home now.”

  “The cabins were never intended to be full-time residences,” he said, clenching his fists at his sides. He shouldn’t admit it, especially since his brother had begun interviewing job applicants again, promising them free housing and land. Sawyer hadn’t wanted him to do it, but Christian had gotten carried away. You’d think that with the Seattle press picking up on the story, Christian would reconsider his approach. At least—thank God—the reporters had stopped calling him. And nothing Sawyer could say seemed to dampen his brother’s enthusiasm for the project. Christian was having the time of his life.

  Well, when the next women started to show up, Sawyer decided, he’d let Christian escort them to those shacks and gleefully announce that here were their new homes. No way was he going to do it.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m being unappreciative,” Abbey said.

  “You’re being unappreciative,” he muttered. “Christian’s place has all the conveniences. Surely the kids miss television.”

  “They don’t.” She hesitated and bit her lip. “Though I’ll confess I’d like a…hot shower.”

  Sawyer could tell that she was tempted by the offer.

  “I’m not comfortable knowing you’re out on the edge of town alone,” he told her. “Because of the kids…People in town would be mighty upset if something happened. Pearl’s been at me to find you some other place to live.” He didn’t want her to think there was anything personal in his concern. “Anyway, Christian’ll be gone a month or more.”

  “A month,” Abbey repeated.

  “Perhaps we could compromise,” he said, walking forward and supporting his hands on her desk. “You could move into Christian’s house or mine, whichever you decide, until one of the other women arrives. Then perhaps you could share the place until a more viable solution presents itself.” Her hair smelled of wildflowers, and he found himself struggling to keep his mind on business.

  “When’s the next woman flying in?”

  “I’m not sure. Soon.”

  She took a moment to consider, then thrust out her hand. “Thank you. I accept your offer.”

  Relieved, Sawyer shook her hand as briefly as possible without being rude. The softness of her skin, her scent, her combination of vulnerability and fierce determination—it was all too attractive. Too disruptive. His world, so orderly and serene before her arrival, felt as if it had been turned inside out.

  One thing was sure—he didn’t like it.

  “I’ll stop by later and pick up your luggage,” he said.

  Her eyes moved to meet his, and she gave him another of those heart-tripping smiles. There was something so genuine and unself-conscious about it. Their eyes held a moment longer, and every muscle in his body was telling him to lean forward and kiss her. As soon as the impulse entered his mind, he sent it flying. The last thing he wanted was to become involved with Abbey Sutherland.

  “Mom—” Scott burst into the room like a warlord roaring into battle “—can I have lunch at Ronny’s? His mom said it’s okay.”

  Sawyer leapt back so fast he practically fell over Eagle Catcher, who’d ambled into the room with Scott.

  “Hi, Mr. O’Halloran,” the boy said in a near squeak, then stared down at the husky. His face flushed with guilt.

  Sawyer looked from the dog to the boy. “How’d Eagle Catcher get out of his pen?”

  Scott lowered his head.

  “Scott, did you let him out of his pen?” Abbey asked.

  His nod was barely perceptible. “I went to visit him and he whined and whined, and I was going to put him back, honest I was.”

  Sawyer crouched down so he could speak to Scott at eye level. “I know you and Eagle Catcher are good friends, and I think that’s great.”

  “You do?” Scott’s eyes rounded with surprise.

  “But it’s important that you ask my permission before you let him out of his yard. Otherwise, I could come home and not know where he is.”

  “I went to visit him, but he didn’t want me to leave,” Scott explained. “Every time I started to go, he’d cry. I only opened the gate so I could pet him and talk to him. I must not have latched it very good, because he followed me.”

  “Next time make sure the latch is secure,” Abbey told him sternly.

  Scott’s gaze avoided Sawyer’s. “I might not have closed the gate all the way on purpose.”

  Sawyer tried to hide his amusement. “Thank you for being honest about it. Next time you want to play with my dog, all you have to do is come and ask me first. That won’t be difficult, will it?”

  “No, sir, I can do that.”

  “Good.”

  “Eagle Catcher only likes me, you know,” Scott announced proudly. “He wouldn’t leave the pen for Susan or Ronny.” He closed his mouth when he realized what he’d admitted.

  So the three friends had been in his yard and attempted to lure Eagle Catcher out of the fenced-off area.

  “So, can I have lunch at Ronny’s?” Scott asked again, obviously eager to change the subject.

  “All right, but I want you to take Eagle Catcher back to his pen. Later on you and I are going to have a long talk about Mr. O’Halloran’s dog.”

  “Okay,” he said sheepishly, and before she could say another word, he dashed out the door, the husky at his heels.

  Sawyer chuckled. “I can’t believe the way those two hit it off. It’s not like Eagle Catcher to become this attached to someone.”

  “I hope this doesn’t develop into a problem,” Abbey said. “He’s got to understand that it’s your dog, and he has to obey your rules. But Scott’s always loved dogs, especially huskies, and we’ve never been able to have one. He was crazy about Eagle Catcher from the first time he saw him.”

  “The feeling appears to be mutual. Eagle Catcher’s never had anyone lavish attention on him the way Scott does. They seem destined for each other, don’t they?”

  Abruptly Abbey looked away.

  Sawyer wondered what he’d said that had caused such a startled reaction. Did she think he was talking about the two of them? If so, Abbey Sutherland was in for a surprise.

  Sawyer wasn’t interested in marriage. Ever. Not even to the beautiful Abbey Sutherland. He’d learned all the lessons he needed from his own experience several years before. And from his parents, who’d tried to make their marriage work, but only made each other miserable. Sawyer wanted none of that.

  Rarely had Abbey enjoyed a shower more. She stood under the warm spray as it pelted against her skin and savored each refreshing drop.

  Exhausted from a day of playing, Scott and Susan fell asleep the minute they climbed into the two single beds in Christian O’Halloran’s guest bedroom.

  Abbey was sleeping in the double bed in a second spare bedroom. Although Sawyer had repeatedly told her she was welcome in his brother’s home, Abbey couldn’t shake the feeling that she was invading Christian’s privacy.

  It was fine for Sawyer to offer his brother’s house. But Abbey couldn’t help wondering if he’d bothered to mention it to Christian.

  After she toweled off, she dressed in jeans and a thin sweater and walked barefoot to the kitchen, where she made herself a cup of tea. It was difficult not to compare her stark living quarters at the cabin and the simple luxuries of Christian’s home.

  The kitchen was large and cheery, the white walls stenciled with a blue tulip pattern. The room’s warmth and straightforward charm reminded her that Ellen O’Halloran had once lived here. Her touch was evident throughout the house.

  Taking her tea with her, Abbey wandered onto the front porch and sat in the old-fashioned swing. Mosqui
toes buzzed about until she remembered to light the citronella candle. The evening was beautiful beyond anything she’d imagined. Birds chirped vigorously in the background. The tundra seemed vibrant with life.

  Although it was nearly ten, the sky was as bright as it had been at noon. Cupping the mug in her hands, she looked past the small patch of lawn to Sawyer’s house across the street.

  His home clearly lacked a woman’s influence. He, too, had a yard, but there were no flower boxes decorating the window ledges, no beds blooming with hardy perennials. The porch was smaller, almost as if it had been added as an afterthought.

  Drawing her knees up under her chin, Abbey gazed unseeingly at the house while she reviewed her situation. She’d taken the biggest gamble of her life by moving to Hard Luck. No one had told her she was playing against a stacked deck. But the stakes were too high for her to back down now. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Somehow, she’d find the means to stay and make a good life for herself and her children.

  The front door of Sawyer’s house opened, and he stepped onto the front porch. He leaned against the support beam, holding a mug in his hands. For what seemed a long time, they did nothing but stare at each other.

  As if he’d reached some sort of decision, Sawyer set the mug aside and crossed the street. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.

  “Not at all.” Abbey hoped she didn’t sound as shy as she felt. She slid over so there was plenty of room on the swing.

  “My mother used to sit out here in the summer,” Sawyer reminisced. “There were many nights I’d get ready for bed and I’d look out and see her sitting exactly where you are, swinging as if she was eighteen again and waiting for a beau.”

  A sadness crept into his voice, and from the little she knew about his parents’ marriage, she guessed his perception could be right. His mother might well have been waiting for the man she loved to join her—the husband she’d once, and perhaps still, loved.

  He seemed to have read her thoughts. “My parents didn’t have a good marriage. Don’t get me wrong—they rarely raised their voices to each other. In some ways I wish they had. It might have cleared the air. Instead, they practiced indifference toward each other.” He hesitated and shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all that. What about your parents?”

  “They’re great. They’ve had their share of squabbles over the years and still argue now and then. But underneath it, well, all I know is that they’re deeply committed to each other.” She paused, thinking about the fact that they’d disagreed with her move to Hard Luck. “My family gave me a firm foundation, and for that I couldn’t be more grateful.” She wondered how the conversation had become so personal. “I particularly appreciated that foundation when my marriage fell apart.

  “My parents were wonderful. They’d never liked Dick, but they’d raised me to make my own choices and gave me the freedom to learn from my mistakes without I-told-you-so lectures.” Abbey stopped, a little flustered. She hadn’t meant to discuss her marriage, especially with someone she barely knew.

  “Does your ex have contact with Scott and Susan?”

  “No. And he hasn’t paid a penny of support since he left the army. I haven’t seen him in years, and neither have the kids. In the beginning I had a lot of anger. Not so much because of the money—that isn’t nearly as important as everything else. Then I realized it’s Dick’s loss. He’s the one who’s missing out on knowing two fabulous kids, and now I just feel sorry for him.”

  Sawyer reached for her hand and she held his tightly as tears clouded her eyes. She looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  “Abbey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You didn’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t usually tear up like this.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re a long way from home.”

  “Are you going to start that again—telling me I should go back to Seattle?” The argument had grown tiresome.

  He didn’t answer for a moment. “No.” His free hand touched her cheek and brushed a tendril of hair aside. Their eyes met in a rush of discovery. It seemed inevitable that he’d kiss her.

  It had been a long time since she’d been kissed. An even longer time since she’d wanted a man to kiss her this much. Sawyer lowered his mouth to hers and she leaned forward shyly.

  As soon as Sawyer’s mouth touched hers, she experienced a reawakening. She felt…cherished. For years she’d been the protector, standing alone against the world, caring for her children. She hadn’t had either time or energy to think of herself as feminine and desirable. Sawyer made her feel both.

  She opened her lips to him, and an onslaught of need stole her breath. She felt as though she’d taken a free-fall from twenty thousand feet.

  Sawyer eased his mouth from hers, then brought it back as if he needed a second kiss to confirm what had happened the first time. His tenderness produced an overwhelming ache deep inside her. One that was emotional, as well as physical. Those feelings had been so long repressed she had trouble identifying them.

  Sawyer lifted his mouth from Abbey’s. Slowly she opened her eyes and found him studying her. His eyes were intense with questions.

  She smiled, and at the simple movement of her lips he groaned and leaned forward, kissing her with a passion that left her breathless and weak.

  Whatever happened to her in Hard Luck, whatever became of the housing situation, whatever took place between her and Sawyer from this point onward, Abbey knew that in these moments, they’d shared something wonderful. Something special.

  He ended the kiss with reluctance. Abbey hid her face in his shoulder and took one deep breath after another.

  They didn’t speak. She sensed that words would have destroyed the magic. He gently rubbed her back.

  “I’d better go home,” he whispered after a while.

  She nodded. He loosened his hold, then released her. Abbey watched as he stood, buried his hands in his pockets…and hesitated.

  He seemed about to speak, but if that was the case, he changed his mind. A moment later, he whispered a good-night and walked across the street to his own home.

  Abbey had the distinct feeling that they wouldn’t discuss this evening. The next time they met it would be as if nothing had happened between them.

  But it had….

  After an hour of restlessly pacing the floor, Sawyer sat down at his desk and leafed through his personal phone directory. He needed to talk to Christian, the sooner the better.

  He called Directory Assistance to get the number of Christian’s hotel in Seattle—or, at least, his last-known residence there. Christian might not even be in Seattle anymore—but Sawyer swore he’d find him if it took the rest of the night.

  He waited for the hotel operator to answer. As luck would have it, Christian was still registered at the Emerald City Empress. The operator connected him with his room.

  Christian answered on the fourth ring, sounding groggy.

  “It’s Sawyer.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eleven.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Sawyer could visualize his brother picking up his watch and staring at it. “It might be eleven in Hard Luck, but it’s midnight here. What’s so important that it can’t wait until morning?”

  “You haven’t called me in days.”

  “You got my message, didn’t you?”

  Sawyer frowned. He had; that was what had prompted him to move Abbey into Christian’s house. “Yeah, I got it. So you’re taking some personal time.”

  “Yeah. Mix business with pleasure. I might as well, don’t you think?”

  “You might think of phoning more often.”

  Christian groaned. “You mean to say you woke me up because we haven’t talked recently? You sound like a wife checking up on her husband!”

  “We’ve got problems.” Sawyer gritted his teeth.

  “What kind of problems?”

  “Abbey Sutherland’s here.”
br />   “What’s the matter? Don’t you like her?”

  Sawyer almost wished that was true. Instead, he liked her too much. He liked her so much he’d completely lost the ability to sleep through an entire night. Either he was pacing the floor, worried about her living in that cabin alone with her two children, or he was fighting the instinct to walk across the street and make love to her. Either way, he was fast becoming a lunatic.

  “I like her fine. That’s not the problem.”

  “Well, what is?”

  “Abbey didn’t arrive alone.” A short silence followed his announcement. “She brought her two children.”

  “Now, just a minute,” Christian said hurriedly. If he wasn’t awake earlier, he was now. “She didn’t say a word about having any children.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “No…but that shouldn’t have mattered. She might have said something herself, don’t you agree?”

  “All I know is we’d better revise the application. Immediately.”

  “I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.” His promise was followed by the sound of a breath slowly being released. “Where’s she staying? You didn’t stick her in one of the cabins, did you? There’s barely room for one, let alone three.”

  “She insisted that was exactly where she’d stay—until I convinced her to move into your house.”

  “My house!” Christian exploded. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Can you think of anyplace else she could live?”

  There was a moment’s silence. “No.”

  “I tried to talk her into moving back to Seattle, but she’s stubborn.” And beautiful. And generous. And so much more…

  “What are we going to do with her once I return?” Christian asked.

  “Haven’t got a clue.”

  “You’re the one who told me to hire her,” his brother argued.

  “I did?”

  “Sure, don’t you remember? I was telling you about Allison Reynolds and I mentioned there were two women I was considering for the position of librarian. You said I should hire the one who wanted the job.”

  So apparently Sawyer was responsible for his own misery.

  “Maybe she’ll fall in love with John or Ralph,” Christian said hopefully, as if this would solve everything. “If she gets married, she won’t be our problem. Whoever’s fool enough to take her on—and her children—will be responsible for her.”