Anger slammed through Sawyer, and he had to struggle to keep from saying something he’d later regret.

  “Any man who married Abbey Sutherland would be damn lucky to have her,” he said fiercely.

  “Aha!” Christian’s laugh was triumphant. “So that’s the way it is!”

  “How much longer do you plan to be in Seattle?” Sawyer asked, ignoring his brother’s comment. A comment that was doubly irritating because it echoed one made by Ben the very day of Abbey’s arrival.

  “I don’t know,” Christian muttered. “I’ve been busy interviewing women, and I’d like to hire a couple more. I haven’t even gotten around to ordering the supplies and plane parts. While I’m here, I thought I’d take a side trip up to see Mom. She’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”

  “Fine, go see Mom.”

  “By the way, Allison Reynolds decided she wanted the position, after all. Take my advice, big brother, and don’t get all excited over this librarian until you meet our new secretary,” Christian said. “One look at her’ll knock your socks off.”

  “What about a health-care specialist?”

  “I’ve talked to a few nurses, but nothing yet. Give me time.”

  “Time!” Sawyer snapped. “It isn’t supposed to take this long.”

  “What’s your hurry?” Christian asked, and then chuckled. An evil sound, Sawyer thought sourly. “The longer I’m gone, the closer your librarian friend will be.” Laughter echoed on the line. “I love it. You were against the idea from the beginning—and now look at you.”

  “I’m still against it.”

  “But not nearly as much as you were before you met Abbey Sutherland. Isn’t that right?”

  Abbey stood in front of the lone store in town, popularly known as the mercantile. It was decorated in a style she was coming to think of as Alaskan Bush—a pair of moose antlers adorned the doorway. She walked inside with a list of things she needed. The supplies she’d been given when she got to Hard Luck were gone. She also craved some fresh produce, but was afraid to find out what that would cost.

  A bell over the door jangled, announcing her arrival.

  The mercantile was smaller than the food mart where she bought gas back in Seattle. The entire grocery consisted of three narrow aisles and a couple of upright freezers with price lists posted on the door. A glass counter in front of the antique cash register displayed candy and both Inupiat and Athabascan craft items.

  A middle-aged man with a gray beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail stepped out from behind the curtain. He smiled happily when he saw her. “Abbey Sutherland, right?”

  “Right. Have we met?”

  “Only in passing.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Pete Livengood. I own the store and I have a little tourist business on the side.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” she said, smiling back, wondering how much tourist trade he got in Hard Luck. “I want to pick up a few things for dinner this evening.”

  “Great. Let me have a look at your list and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Abbey watched as he scanned the sheet of paper. “We don’t sell fresh vegetables here since most folks have their own summer gardens. Every now and then Sawyer brings me back something from Fairbanks, but it’s rare. Wintertime’s a different story, though.”

  “I see.” Abbey had hoped to serve taco salad that evening. She knew the kids would be disappointed.

  “Louise Gold’s got plenty of lettuce in her garden. She was bragging about it just the other day. I suspect she’d be delighted if you’d take some of it off her hands.”

  “I couldn’t ask her.” Abbey had only met Ronny’s mother briefly. The Gold family had been very kind, and she didn’t want to impose on their generosity any more than she already had.

  “Things are different in the Arctic,” Pete explained. “Folks help one another. If Louise knew you wanted lettuce for your dinner and she had more than she needed, why, she’d be insulted if you didn’t ask. Most folks order their food supplies a year at a time. I’ll give you an order form. Louise can probably help you with it better than I can, since you’re buying for a family of three.”

  “A year at a time?”

  “It’s more economical that way.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry about this list. I know how hard you’re working setting up the library. I’ll take care of everything you have here myself, including talking to Louise about that lettuce.”

  “Oh, but…I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “Of course you could. I’m just being neighborly. Tell you what. I’ll get everything together and deliver it this afternoon. How’s that?”

  “Wonderful. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” Pete said, grinning broadly as if she’d done him a favor by allowing him to bring her groceries.

  As the day went on, Abbey found herself waiting for Sawyer, hoping he’d stop by, wondering if he’d mention their kisses. Knowing he wouldn’t.

  Scott and Susan were in and out of the library all morning. Abbey enjoyed being accessible to her children; the experience of having them close at hand during the summer was a new one.

  When she’d asked Pearl about day care, the older woman had thought she was joking. There was no such thing in Hard Luck. Not technically. Abbey knew that Louise Gold watched Chrissie Harris for Mitch, but there wasn’t any official summer program for school-age children.

  Scott and Susan were thriving on the sense of adventure and freedom. Their happiness seemed to bubble over.

  “Hi, Mom,” Scott said, strolling into the library, Eagle Catcher beside him.

  “Once the library opens, we can’t have Sawyer’s dog inside,” she told him.

  “We can’t?” Scott was offended on the husky’s behalf. “That’s not fair. I let him come everyplace else I go.”

  “Dogs can’t read,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “I bet I could teach him.”

  She shook her head. “Did you ask Sawyer about letting him out of his pen?”

  “Yup. I went down to the airfield. He was real busy, and I thought he might get mad at me, but he didn’t. He said I’d been patient and he was proud of me.” Scott beamed as he reported the compliment. “He’s short-handed ’cause his brother’s gone, and he had to take a flight this morning himself. I don’t think he wanted to go, but he did.”

  “Oh.” She tried to conceal her disappointment. “Did he say when he’d be back?”

  “Nope, but I invited him for dinner. That was okay, wasn’t it?”

  “Ah…”

  “You said we were having taco salad, didn’t you?”

  “Yes…What did Sawyer say?”

  “He said he’d like that, but he wanted to make sure you knew about him coming. I told him you always fix lots, and I promised to tell you. It’s all right, isn’t it?”

  Abbey nodded. “I suppose.”

  “I’ll go see if Sawyer’s back yet. I’ll tell him you said he could come.” Scott raced out the door at breakneck speed, with Eagle Catcher in hot pursuit. Abbey couldn’t help grinning—it took the energy of a sled dog to keep up with her son.

  She was barely aware of the afternoon slipping past until Pete Livengood stopped by with her groceries and surprised her with a small bouquet of wildflowers. His thoughtfulness touched her.

  Abbey was straightening everything for the day when a shadow fell across her desk. She looked up to find Sawyer standing in the doorway, blocking the light.

  He seemed tired and disgruntled. “Isn’t it about time you went home?”

  “I was just getting ready to leave.”

  “Scott invited me to dinner.”

  “So I heard.” She found herself staring at him, then felt embarrassed and looked away. Her thoughts were in a muddle as she scrambled for something to say to ease the sudden tension between them.

  “Pete Livengood brought me wildflowers,” she blurted, convinced she sounded closer to Susan’s age than her
own.

  “Pete was here?”

  “Yes, he delivered a few groceries. He’s a very nice man.”

  Sawyer was oddly silent, and Abbey tried to fill the awkward gap.

  “When he stopped by, we talked for a bit. He’s led an interesting life, hasn’t he?”

  “I guess so.” Sawyer frowned. “Do you have any idea how old Pete Livengood is?” he demanded.

  “No.” Nor did she care. In fact, she couldn’t think of a reason it should matter. He was a rough-and-ready sort who’d lived in Alaska for close to twenty years. Abbey found his stories interesting and had asked him questions about his life. Perhaps Sawyer objected to her spending so much time away from her job.

  “Pete’s old enough to be your father!”

  “Yes,” she said curiously. “Is that significant?”

  Sawyer didn’t respond. “I gave specific instructions that you weren’t to be bothered.”

  “Pete didn’t bother me.”

  “Well, he bothers me,” Sawyer said abruptly.

  “Why?”

  Sawyer expelled his breath and glanced up at the ceiling. “Because I’m a fool, that’s why.”

  Chapter 6

  The atmosphere in the Hard Luck Café was decidedly cool when Sawyer came by for breakfast.

  “Morning,” he greeted Ben, then claimed a seat at the counter. Three of his pilots were there, and he nodded in their direction. They ignored him.

  Ben poured him a cup of coffee.

  “I’ll take a couple of eggs and a stack of hotcakes.” Sawyer ordered without looking at the menu.

  John Henderson grumbled something Sawyer couldn’t hear, slapped some money down on the counter and walked out. Ralph, who sat two stools down from Sawyer, followed suit. Duke muttered a few words, then he was gone, too.

  Sawyer looked up, surprised. Three of his best pilots acted like they couldn’t get away from him fast enough. “What? Do I have bad breath?”

  Ben chuckled. “Maybe, but that ain’t it.”

  “Why are they mad at me?”

  Ben braced his hands on the counter. “I’d say it has something to do with Abbey Sutherland.”

  Sawyer tensed. “What about Abbey?”

  “From what I hear, you had a word with Pete Livengood about him dropping off Abbey’s groceries at the library.”

  “Yeah? So what?” To Sawyer’s way of thinking, the old coot had no business interrupting her when she was at work. The library wasn’t open yet. Besides, Pete hadn’t brought that bouquet of wildflowers because he was interested in finding a good book to read. No, he was after Abbey. That infuriated Sawyer every time he thought about it.

  Pete wasn’t right for Abbey, and Sawyer wasn’t planning to let him pester her while she was on his property. Okay, so maybe his family had donated his grandfather’s cabin to the town. It didn’t matter; Sawyer felt responsible for her. If it wasn’t for Midnight Sons, she wouldn’t even be in town.

  “Just remember I’m a disinterested observer,” Ben said. “But I’ve got eyes and ears, and I hear what the men are saying.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Ben brought the eggs and cakes hot off the griddle, and topped up Sawyer’s coffee. “Ralph and John and a couple of the others object to you keeping Abbey to yourself.”

  Sawyer didn’t see it that way. “What gives them the idea I’m doing that?”

  “Wasn’t it you who warned everyone to stay away from the library?”

  “That isn’t because I’m keeping Abbey to myself,” he argued. “The woman’s got work to do, and I don’t want her constantly interrupted.”

  “I sure don’t remember you taking such a keen interest in your mother’s collection before.”

  Sawyer wasn’t going to argue further, although the whole discussion irked him. No one seemed to appreciate what he was trying to do. “The library will be open soon, and then the men can visit as often as they like.”

  That seemed to appease Ben, and Sawyer suspected it would appease the other men, as well.

  “Next on the list of complaints,” Ben continued, “the guys think you’re inventing flights to keep the crew busy so you can court Abbey without interference.”

  “I’m not courting her,” he said heatedly. “And what kind of old-fashioned word is that anyway?”

  “You had dinner at her house, didn’t you?”

  “That’s true, but Scott was the one who invited me.” He hated having to defend his actions. That aside, it was the best dinner he’d had all summer. And he didn’t just mean the food.

  “Are you saying you don’t have any personal interest in her?”

  “That’s right.” Although he didn’t hesitate, Sawyer wondered how honest he was being. It was a good thing no one knew he’d been kissing Abbey.

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “You’re not interested in her,” he repeated. “Is that why you nearly bit Pete’s head off?”

  Sawyer sighed, his appetite gone. “Who told you that? I didn’t so much as raise my voice.”

  “But you made it clear you didn’t want him seeing her.”

  “Not before the library’s open,” Sawyer insisted. “This is the very reason I was against the idea of recruiting women in the first place. Look at us!”

  “What?” Ben asked.

  “A few weeks ago we were all friends. Don’t you see what’s happening? We’re at each other’s throats.”

  “Well, we got one thing settled, though, didn’t we? You’re not interested in her yourself.”

  “Of course not,” Sawyer said stiffly.

  “Then you won’t mind if a few of the other guys develop intellectual interests that require research trips to the library?”

  Sawyer shrugged. “Why should I care?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Ben said, and Sawyer had a feeling the old stew-burner was seeing straight through him.

  “All I ask is that the guys give Abbey a little breathing room. Can’t they wait until the library’s open?”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Soon,” he promised. “I understand she’ll be ready to open it up to the public in a few days.”

  “Good. I’ll pass the word along,” Ben said, then returned to the kitchen.

  Sawyer ate his breakfast, and although Ben was an excellent cook, the food rested in his stomach like a lead weight.

  It didn’t take him long to acknowledge that he was guilty of everything Ben had suggested. He’d gone out of his way to keep the men as far from Abbey as he could arrange. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, at least not in the beginning. But it was now.

  Abbey was putting away the last of the dinner dishes the following night when she heard Scott and Susan on the front porch talking with a third person. The weather had been warm, and she’d changed into shorts when she got home from work. Who’d have believed it would reach the mid-eighties in the Arctic? Despite everything she’d read, it hadn’t seemed real until she’d experienced it for herself.

  Drying her hands on a kitchen towel, she walked out to the porch to discover Sawyer chatting with her children. Eagle Catcher stood at his side.

  “Hello,” he said cheerfully when she joined them.

  “Good evening.” She’d been hoping she’d see Sawyer again soon. His eyes said he was eager for her company, too.

  Being with him felt right. She loved the easy way he spoke to her children, his patience with Scott over the dog, his gentleness with Susan. Her daughter had adored him from the moment he’d held out his hand to her when they’d met at the airport.

  “When are we going to see the northern lights?” Scott asked Sawyer. He’d talked of little else over dinner that night. “Ronny told me it’s better than the Fourth of July fireworks, but no matter how late I try to stay up, it won’t get dark.”

  “That’s because it’s early summer, Scott, and the solstice isn’t even due for another two weeks. Wait until the end of August—you’ll probably begin to see them then.?
??

  “Does it ever get dark in Alaska?” Susan asked.

  “Yes, but just for a short time in the summer. Winter, however, is another story.”

  “Ronny told me it’s dark practically all day,” Scott put in, “but I knew that from the books Mom read when she applied for the job.”

  “What do the northern lights look like?” Susan asked.

  Sawyer sat on the swing and Susan sat beside him; Scott hunkered down next to Eagle Catcher. “Sometimes the light fills the sky from horizon to horizon. It’s usually milky green in color and the colors dance and flicker. Some folks claim they can hear them.”

  “Can you?”

  Sawyer nodded. “Yup.”

  “What’s it sound like?”

  Sawyer’s eyes caught Abbey’s. “Like tinkling bells. I suspect you’ll hear them yourself.”

  “Are they always green?”

  “No, there’s a red aurora that’s the most magnificent of all.”

  “Wow, I bet that’s pretty!”

  “You know, the Inuit have a legend about the aurora borealis. They believe the lights are flaming torches carried by departed souls who guide travelers to the afterlife.”

  Abbey sat on the edge of the swing. Soon Susan was in her lap, and she was next to Sawyer. He looked over at her and smiled.

  Her children seemed to have a hundred questions for him. He told them the story of how his grandfather had come to Hard Luck, chasing a dream, searching for gold.

  “Did he find gold?” Scott asked.

  “In a manner of speaking, but not the gold he’d been looking for. It was here, but he never really struck it rich. He died believing he’d failed his wife and family, but he hadn’t.”

  “Why did he stay?” Abbey asked.

  “My grandmother refused to go. They had a little girl named Emily who disappeared on the tundra, and afterward my grandmother wouldn’t leave Hard Luck.”

  “Did she think there was some chance Emily would come back?”