Alaskan Sweethearts (11 page)

Scarlett took a step back.

“Did you find any of those loopholes Hunter talked about?” she asked a little too brightly as she led the way back into the Sunday-school room.

“No, I didn’t,” the attorney said with a frown as he seated himself again at the table. “This contract is airtight.”

“Well, that’s good then,” she said as she pulled out a chair, too.

She wanted to get all of this settled so she could fly back to Nome and start to pack. Once she was on her own turf, these feelings for Hunter would subside. They had to.

“I don’t know,” Mr. Monroe said, shaking his head. He was still holding the contract. “It has occurred to me that it’s too perfect.”

“What does that mean?” Hunter was seated at the table, too.

“Well, if your grandfather can’t back out,” the attorney said as he reached for one of the graham crackers on the plate, “then neither can the Murphys.”

“Why would we want to do that?” Scarlett was bewildered. She’d traveled down here just to talk to Colin Jacobson and to sign his contract. Getting the land had been the whole point of coming.

Mr. Monroe took a bite of the graham cracker.

“Has anything changed with that old mine?” he finally asked.

“The cemetery on the hill right above Dry Creek has gotten somewhat run-down,” Scarlett said, thinking back. “Most of the original graves are of the early Russians who settled in Nome. A tombstone tumbled down that hill in an earthquake last year. Made quite a hole at the bottom. But I don’t see how the owners of the mine could be held responsible. Even if there was any liability, the mine would have been in Mr. Jacobson’s name when the damage took place.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. A car motor started outside. The families were starting to leave to go home for Sunday dinner.

“He must just want the clear title for sentimental reasons,” Scarlett said.

“Unless, of course, there’s still gold in it,” Mr. Monroe said.

No one said anything.

“That’s got to be it,” Hunter finally muttered as he turned to Scarlett. “My grandfather wants that mine firmly in his hands. He’s afraid you might contest his claim to it and win. Have there been any reports of gold being found around the area?”

“It’s not a mine really,” Scarlett said. “Just a plot of earth. My grandmother used to take us kids down to the creek to see it. Our grandfathers had rigged up a sluice, but the wood rotted many years ago. As I recall there are a few rusty metal pieces still there to mark the place. And, of course, now the tombstone hole is beside the creek.”

Scarlett remembered that old mine so well because of the stories her grandmother used to tell about it. While other children grew up playing cowboys, she and her sisters used to pretend they were miners. Her grandmother had even bought them all mining pans one Christmas instead of dolls. They’d been ecstatic.

She frowned. “That earthquake could have shifted something.”

Hunter nodded. “Maybe a nugget was found. Even one near the mine would be enough to spark interest. Maybe something got in the news. My grandfather sometimes pulls up stories about Alaska on the internet. He’d read about it for sure if there was gold found near his old claim.”

“I suppose there have been the usual rumors,” Scarlett said. “But there are always reports of gold around Nome. Either people dredging up gold from the bottom of the Bering Sea or finding it with some new extraction method. It usually doesn’t come to much, though. Sometimes I think the biggest riches to be found in Nome are the people who sign up for those reality shows the cable companies make that talk about people finding gold.”

“I need to go to Nome and find out what my grandfather knows,” Hunter finally said.

“With us?” Scarlett was startled. “Joey and me?”

How would she regain her equilibrium if he came home with her?

“That would be the easiest flight,” Hunter said.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Monroe added as he slid the contract across the table to where Scarlett sat.

“If it’s all right with you, of course,” Hunter said.

It was a little late for that, she thought. The attorney was looking at her as if there could be no possible reason for her to refuse such a simple request. The man would probably read something sinister into it if she refused.

“If you need to research this, then you need to come,” she finally said to Hunter.

Only then did she remember her grandmother. The older woman would know Scarlett had kissed Hunter. Scarlett did not know how she did it, but her grandmother had some kind of radar that picked up things like that. She’d be planning a wedding before Scarlett could stop her. And the more Scarlett protested, the wider her grandmother’s smile would grow. There’d be no stopping it.

Scarlett glanced over at Hunter. She was doomed. And it was all his fault. She wished she knew a way to unkiss a man. But that only started her thinking about kissing him in the first place.

Chapter Five

H
unter finished putting the last pole into the ground for the swing set. He’d paused at one point and scooped up a handful of the dirt that lay near him. He let the coarse gray soil run through his fingers. Scarlett would have a hard time growing the kind of lawn she wanted in all this alkali. It was more suited to cactus than any kind of grass, even the sturdy buffalo grass. Not that it was the most popular choice for a lawn. Maybe he’d come over and plow some natural fertilizer into the ground around the house when he came back from his trip.

It would only be neighborly to build the soil up, he told himself as he lay on the ground and closed his eyes. The late-afternoon sun was hitting him at a comfortable slant and he was lazy after eating Sunday dinner at the café. The Engers really knew how to put on a spread. A man’s life didn’t get much better than moments like this, Hunter told himself.

He’d already called the airlines and bought a ticket for his flight tomorrow. They still had a few seats left and he’d been able to get one in the same row as Scarlett and Joey. Hunter had been surprised by how long the journey would take. A few hours to fly from Billings to Seattle. Then three or four hours from Seattle to Anchorage. Then a short flight to Nome—and that was if the plane didn’t have to fly up to Kotzebue as it often did. The airline clerk had obligingly told him Kotzebue was a small town of 3,000 people that was half native-fishing-village and half tourist-site, all sitting on a gravel spit at the end of the Baldwin Peninsula. People liked taking the detour up there, the clerk assured him, because the plane crossed the Arctic Circle to get to Kotzebue before circling back south to land in Nome. Continuing passengers didn’t get off the plane there, but they had at least flown over the Arctic Circle—something the clerk seemed to think was pretty exciting.

It would take almost a full day’s flying, though. They’d take the red-eye from Seattle to Anchorage and fly to Nome on Tuesday morning. No wonder Scarlett had refused to fly back without doing what she’d come to do, he thought as he lay there. It ate up a lot of time.

Scarlett had tried to gently discourage him from making the trip when he’d joked about taking his winter coat, but he was set on going. He’d look out for her interests even if she didn’t think she needed him. Besides, he’d lived through enough Montana blizzards not to be reluctant to head up to Alaska even if it had been in the middle of winter instead of the middle of August. From all he could figure, the days hadn’t even started to shorten yet. Besides, he wanted to know, once and for all, what his grandfather was up to in this latest deal. He could spare a few days from the ranch right now. It would be harder to do in a month or so.

Hunter had already asked one of the men from the Elkton Ranch to come over for the few mornings he’d be gone to do the morning and evening chores. Also, the ranch hand had instructions to check on the old man as well as the animals. Hunter had spent a few days with the Elkton men last fall helping with branding, so the crew was happy to return the favor. Ranchers generally all helped each other when they could.

He’d brought most of the wheat in by now and the straw could wait awhile. He hadn’t left the ranch for several years and he was surprised he was looking forward to the change.

He heard a sound and opened his eyes to see Joey peering down at him. The small, thin boy with his mop of reddish-brown hair already seemed comfortable on the ranch. At least he was carrying a length of rope around, coiled up as if he knew what to do with it.

“Did you fall off the swing?” Joey asked, worry showing on his face as he stared down.

Hunter shook his head as he sat up. “No, I’m just taking a nap.”

Joey frowned at that. “On the ground?”

Hunter nodded. “Nothing wrong with the ground. We ranchers love the land.”

Joey smiled shyly. “I love it, too.”

“Good boy,” Hunter said and then added, “what do you think of the swing?”

The boy took a moment to look it over.

“Will it hold me?” he asked anxiously as he knelt down. The barn cat had trailed him back and was rubbing against one of the metal poles. The boy had darted back and forth for the past hour, torn between wanting to see every step of the swing set up and not wanting to miss any antics of the kittens that Hunter’s grandfather had brought over from the main barn for a visit.

“It would hold ten of you.” Hunter stood as he reassured the boy. The swing set had four legs now and was sturdy.

“So I won’t fall?” Joey asked again.

“Not likely,” Hunter said as he brushed the few particles of dirt off his jeans. The decades-old indentation in the ground was still there from when Hunter and his brothers had put their feet down to slow the swing before jumping off. He remembered all the stunts the boys had done when swinging. “I’m going to teach you a few tricks, anyway. Just to make you feel like you’d know what to do if you do fall sometime.”

Joey looked at him seriously. “Will the secret word make me brave?”

Hunter thought a minute and then squatted so he was on eye level with the boy. “A man’s bravery comes from the heart. But sometimes a word can help. Something to remind a boy that there’s courage inside him.”

Joey nodded.

“But mostly this is for how to fall.” He turned to show the boy. “First you tuck your head like this. That’s to keep you from hurting yourself. Then you pull your knees up like this.”

Hunter had gone down to the ground and felt like a pretzel. But Joey patiently studied him and then took the same position.

“Like this?” the boy asked, still keeping his limbs in place.

“Yes.” Hunter nodded as best he could with his arms wrapped around his knees. “And the secret word is Geronimo. It’s a Native American name that boys have said for generations when they prepare to jump. It puts courage in your heart and gets the air out of you so it’s not knocked out on your landing.”

Joey nodded solemnly and whispered, “Gerry-animo.”

“Close,” Hunter said as he repeated the name again. “And this time yell it.”

“Geronimo,” the boy screamed, putting all his breath into it.

Hunter looked over at the old house where Scarlett and his grandfather were. He expected the windows had rattled with Joey’s cry. He hoped someday he’d have a child like Joey.

* * *

Inside the house, Scarlett went to the open kitchen door when she heard the wild cry. She had been in the middle of measuring the cabinets for new doors and trying to determine if the inside of the cabinets could be salvaged. She smiled when she saw her son rolling around on the ground with Hunter. They were a good twenty yards from her and she could hear Joey’s giggles and Hunter’s deep answering chuckles.

“Was that a battle cry I heard?” Hunter’s grandfather, Colin, shuffled into the kitchen. He’d changed out of his church clothes before he’d came over and he’d been taking a nap on the old sofa in the living room. His white hair was mussed, but his eyes were sharp. He was wearing fur-lined slippers that he’d pulled out of some drawer.

“Just Joey letting off steam,” Scarlett said as she turned. She could still hear the laughter outside. “I think he is practicing his falling technique.”

The elderly man walked over to the door. “Well, I’ll be. It does my heart good to see the boy having this much fun.”

“Joey does let loose once in a while,” Scarlett said with a smile. She had the tape measure in her hand and had tied a dark navy bandanna around her hair.

Colin stood, looking outside. “I didn’t mean Joey. I meant my boy Hunter.” He turned then to grin at her. “Your boy is good for him. I haven’t heard my grandson laugh like that for years.” He paused to enjoy the sound for a moment and then he added, “You’re good for him, too.”

Scarlett ducked her head a bit so he wouldn’t see the flush on her face. She expected there was a dust smudge or two on her cheeks, as well. “We’ll be happy to be neighbors.”

Colin grunted in what sounded like disappointment.

“Close neighbors,” she added then.

He sighed. “I guess that’s a start.”

Scarlett studied the man for a minute. He had plans of some kind. “Hunter doesn’t trust you on this. Not completely.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Colin admitted.

“I’m not sure what to think,” Scarlett admitted. “I want to believe you, but sometimes I look at you and I think you’ve got something more on your mind than making amends to my family.”

“I don’t mean you any harm,” he said.

That struck her as an incomplete answer. “Are you planning to trick me somehow?”

He no longer looked her in the eyes. She studied him, but she wasn’t convinced either way. She hoped he was dealing plain with her, but she couldn’t know.

“Did you write a letter back to my grandmother?” she asked. He seemed to genuinely care about her grandmother. She didn’t think he would disappoint her.

Colin looked chagrined when he glanced over at her this time. “I’m an old man. I don’t have much to say. She’s not interested in the corns on my feet and the arthritis in my hands.”

“She might surprise you on the arthritis,” she said with a smile. “Besides, you could write her about your grandsons if nothing else. She’d be happy you have a family.”

The man straightened his shoulders. “I don’t deserve those boys, you know. I’ve done some shady things in the past. I’ll admit that much. I didn’t mean to do them. I got suckered by a couple of good salesmen and I got other people involved.” He paused. “I was trying to help, just trying to make folks’ lives better. But it never worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“It never does,” Scarlett said.

“I’ve made trouble for Hunter and his brothers,” he added. “The boys take these things hard.”

Scarlett thought for a minute. “Are you listening to anyone else in this deal you have set up with my family?”

Colin shook his head. “I swear to you I am finished with those other kinds of deals. If something is too good to be true, it is. I’ve been clean for some years now. This is completely different. I just want to see Hunter happy.”

Scarlett lifted an eyebrow. All of her suspicions flooded back. “But my family is getting the property. Hunter is not going to be happy about that. Resigned, maybe, but not happy.”

The old man might just be hoaxing them at that.

Colin smiled. “It’s hard to tell what will make a man happy.”

Scarlett didn’t think it was that much of a mystery. In the silence, though, she realized the laughter had died down outside. She glanced toward the door, but couldn’t see Hunter or her son.

“I better get back to measuring things,” she said as she held out the tape. “My grandmother will want details for new curtains and rugs.”

“Tell her it’s a happy house.” Colin started to walk back toward the living room. He turned around before he took more than two steps. “No, that isn’t completely true. This house had its share of tears and sadness after that accident that killed the boys’ parents.”

“Hunter told me about that,” she said.

“Did he tell you he had nightmares for months after it happened?” Colin asked. “I was beside myself trying to figure out how to help him. I took him to the doctor for the scars he had from the fire, but I didn’t know what to do about those nightmares.”

They were both silent for a moment. Then the old man added, “It’s my fault the boy is unhappy—that he takes care of everyone else except himself. He never had fun. I should have done something back then.”

Scarlett thought she heard a sound, but she was concentrating on the grieving man in front of her. She didn’t know what to say to ease his distress. “Maybe you should talk to Hunter about it. Frankly, it seems to me that he’s doing fine. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of other people. More men should do it.”

She could tell something was blocking the sun from the open door. She looked up and saw Hunter and her son standing there.

Joey was grinning. Hunter was not.

Scarlett watched Hunter glare at her and his grandfather, one after the other.

“Talking about me?” he asked, although she wasn’t sure who he expected to answer him.

“I was just working on the cabinets,” she said.

At the same time his grandfather confessed, “I told her about the fire.”

“I see.” Hunter pressed his lips tightly together in what must be disapproval.

Everyone was quiet.

“It’s not like it was anything bad that was said,” Scarlett finally offered. “Your grandfather was just concerned about you like any parent would be.”

Hunter looked at her and shook his head. “If he was telling you about the accident and that fire, there isn’t much good that could be said about me or my part in it.”

With that he turned and, dropping Joey’s hand, walked off toward the barn, his legs and arms all stiff.

Scarlett didn’t know what to do but to let him go.

Joey looked after him until Scarlett suggested he go play with the cat that was just outside the door.

“Hunter will be back shortly,” his grandfather said when the boy was distracted. “He has to go off and sort things through sometimes, but he always comes back.”

Nevertheless, the older man stared after his grandson with concern on his face. They both watched Hunter open the door to the barn, go inside and then turn to carefully close the door behind him.

“Well, that won’t do,” his grandfather said. “If he leaves that door shut, there will only be half-light inside that place. He’ll just sit there and brood in the dark.”

“Well, it won’t be totally dark, surely,” she said, trying to console him. “There are a couple of windows.”

“Small and dirty ones,” the man said as he turned toward the living room. “Not enough to help a man see.”

Scarlett looked out toward the barn, a knot of worry in her stomach. “It can’t be that bad.”

The older man turned around then and faced her. “After the accident, Hunter wanted me to take him in to see Sheriff Wall in Dry Creek, so I did. The boy was only ten years old and, when we got there, he wanted to turn himself in—felt the sheriff should arrest him for not doing enough in that accident. The boy had even packed some extra socks and his favorite yo-yo because he figured he’d go straight off to jail. Said he was guilty for not facing the fire long enough to pull his father out. He figured he was set for a lifetime in prison for being a coward.”