Love Inspired March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Wife for Jacob\The Forest Ranger's Rescue\Alaskan Homecoming (39 page)

Zoey grinned. “Of course. I'd love that. We can fly over the ranch, and you can see the reindeer. They look so pretty from the sky.”

Posy had almost forgotten. Zoey and her husband lived on a reindeer farm.

She'd missed so much.

Liam was a man of God now, Zoey was both a pilot and a reindeer farmer, and Posy wasn't the only one with a different name. Anya and Zoey both had new last names. Her mother had told her all about their weddings, of course, but seeing the shiny rings on their fingers made it seem much more real than it had from far away.

They were her closest friends. Granted, she hadn't seen them in a while, and she definitely could have been better about keeping in touch. But they still knew more about her than any of her San Francisco friends. They cared. They genuinely cared. And they were married to men Posy had never laid eyes on. Perfect strangers.

“Don't worry.” Anya gave her a friendly nudge. “We'll get you all caught up on everything you've missed. Before long, you'll know more than you ever wanted to know about the fair citizens of Aurora. Right, Zoey?”

“Oh, sure. Where to start... Let's see. Did you know that Anya's husband sometimes dresses up as a bear?”

Just what Posy needed. Another bear scare. “What?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “It's not as silly as it sounds. Trust me.”

The two of them launched into a laughter-filled discussion about everyone in Aurora—people Posy knew and others she'd never heard of before. She managed to keep up with the conversation, making mental notes every now and then of new names. There were new babies, new marriages, new stores, new streets. Even new dogs, Liam's shaggy beast included.

But as Posy sat with her two oldest friends, drinking coffee and chatting like old times, she was beginning to get the feeling that the only stranger in town was one named Josephine.

* * *

“Stay here.” Liam aimed a stern look toward the passenger sitting beside him in the front seat of his Jeep. “And try to resist the urge to eat anything. The headrest, for instance.”

Oblivious, Sundog panted, his tongue hanging sideways out of his mouth.

Liam issued one final warning before exiting the vehicle. “I'm being serious. Stay. Behave. Or whatever the proper command is for this situation.”

He was probably going to have to do something about the plundering problem. And the chewing. Posy hadn't been altogether wrong when she'd called the dog unruly. But Liam liked to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was a rescue. He'd lived on the streets. It was only normal for him to worry about where the next meal was coming from. Liam just wished it wasn't the stuffing of the Jeep's passenger seat, as it had been last time. Or the center of the bedroom mattress back at his house.

Yep. He probably needed to take a training class or something, but with the sudden reappearance of Posy, Sundog had shifted to a lower position on the priority list. Oh, how he longed for the time when chewed-up pillows were his biggest problem.

Was it only this morning that she'd shown up at the church?

He felt as though he'd lived a lifetime since then, and it wasn't even dark outside yet.

He glanced at his watch. Half an hour until school got out. He needed to make this quick so he could get back to the church in time. He never left the premises this late in the day, but he'd heard Posy telling Lou that she was getting together with Anya and Zoey at the Northern Lights Inn this afternoon. Now might be his only chance. He would already be working with her day in and day out. He definitely didn't want her finding him standing in the living room of her childhood home.

He rang the doorbell and waited, shooting a final glance at Sundog, who already appeared to be gnawing on the dashboard.

The door swung open, and Posy's mother stood on the other side of the threshold. Just like old times. Really old times. “Liam. What a surprise.”

“Mrs. Sutton.” He nodded. “May I come in?”

“Of course, of course. Please do.” She held the door open wide, and Liam stepped into the past.

Everything was the same, at least everything within Liam's field of vision. Same gold-framed mirror hanging in the entryway—the one where Posy had always checked her reflection right before she breezed out the door for school, ballet class or a day at the pond. Same brown leather sofa where he'd sat on more than one occasion with a boxed corsage in his hands, waiting for her to come downstairs so he could take her to the school dance. He resisted the urge to look at those stairs now, half-afraid that same tingle-tangle of anticipation would stir in his gut. As though she were about to descend that staircase wearing a pretty tulle dress and a smile just for him.

He cleared his throat and tried to shake the memories, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted the new big-screen television hanging above the fireplace mantel, a shiny, hi-def reminder that he hadn't, in fact, stepped inside a time warp.

“Can I get you anything, Liam?” Mrs. Sutton gestured toward the kitchen, where Liam knew a pitcher of Alaskan blackberry tea rested on the top shelf of the refrigerator and a ceramic cookie jar shaped like a black bear cub sat atop the butcher-block counter.

This was just a little too surreal for his taste. Better to get in and out. Besides, the kids would be arriving at the church soon. “No, thank you.”

“Have a seat, then. Make yourself at home.” She gestured toward the sofa.

Make yourself at home.

Liam purposefully sank into one of the upholstered armchairs with his back to the staircase. “I'm sorry to drop by unannounced like this.”

“It's no trouble at all, Liam. You're always welcome here.” She offered him a motherly smile.

Mrs. Sutton had always been fond of him, even before that night he'd shown up at this very house, rain-soaked, heart torn in two as he spilled each and every one of Posy's secrets. Afterward, Posy's parents had put him on a virtual pedestal. So high up he was out of Posy's reach.

He swallowed. He didn't like to think about that night. And he hadn't. For the better part of six and a half years, he'd managed to successfully put it out of his head. But along with Posy, all those memories had come rushing back this afternoon.

“How are your parents, Liam?”

“Great, I suppose.” He hadn't actually spoken to them in weeks. A month maybe. But their latest postcard had arrived the other day. From Kivalina, 125 miles north of the Arctic Circle, which made it one of Alaska's most remote villages.

“Do they have any plans to visit soon?” Mrs. Sutton smiled warmly. She'd never really understood his parents.

Liam wasn't altogether sure he understood them himself. As overinvolved as the Suttons could be in their daughter's life, his parents swung in the opposite direction. They were more interested in seeing every square inch of frozen tundra this side of the North Pole than they were in the particulars of Liam's life. They didn't know about the dog. Or the new lights he'd strung across the skating pond. Or that he'd stopped dating Sara, and that breakup had occurred over four months ago. Not that he thought of it as an actual breakup. They'd gone out once or twice a week for a few months, but that special spark had never been there. It had been casual. All of Liam's relationships had been casual since Posy.

He cleared his throat. “My folks don't have any plans to visit, so far as I know. Getting planes in and out of the Arctic Circle can be complicated.”

“I'm sure it is. Give them our regards the next time you talk to them, okay?”

Liam nodded, not wanting to make any outright promises. Conversations full of static from his dad's satellite phone didn't leave much room for small talk. Besides, he wasn't here to talk about his parents.

“Posy's back,” he said, his voice sounding altogether too raw and vulnerable for his liking.

“Yes, she is.” Mrs. Sutton nodded. “We haven't seen her yet, but she should be home in time for dinner.”

“She's staying here?” he asked. A dumb question. Where else would she be staying? Why was his brain suddenly on vacation?

“Yes.”

“Good.” His smile felt strained. He was just going to have to bite the bullet and say what he'd come here to say before he ran out of time. Or lost his nerve. “Look, I know you told her about the job at the church.”

Mrs. Sutton's gaze suddenly shifted to the floor.

“I also know that you didn't tell her I worked there,” he said quietly.

“I wasn't sure she'd take the job if she knew, and it's the perfect place for her to be while she gets better.”

They were getting to the crux of the matter. Finally. “Why is that?”

Nervous laughter spilled from Mrs. Sutton's mouth. “Working at the church will be good for her. She'll be surrounded by the love of God and the girls...”

Liam leveled his gaze at her. “And me.”

Her only response was a quiet sigh, followed by uncomfortable silence.

“I can't do it, Mrs. Sutton. I just can't.” His throat burned all of a sudden. Seared with memories of words that he would not, could not, utter again. “I can't be the one to keep an eye on her. That's what you want, isn't it? That's why you sent her to the church, and that's why you didn't tell her I'd be there.”

He waited for her to admit it, not that he really needed confirmation of his suspicions. Everything about Posy's return was a little too coincidental to be believable.

“You're right.” Posy's mother gave a slow, reluctant nod. “I'm sorry. I should have spoken to you about it first. I'm worried about her, Liam. So is her father. Did she tell you about her injury?”

Guilt hovered around the edges of Liam's consciousness. Posy hadn't told him a thing because he hadn't asked. “No.”

“It's a fracture.” Mrs. Sutton gulped. Her eyes grew shiny with the threat of unshed tears. “Her fifth metatarsal.”

Fifth metatarsal.

Despite the fact that Posy's health was no longer any of his concern, Liam felt those two words like a blow to his chest. In medical circles, a fracture of the fifth metatarsal was sometimes called the Dancer's Fracture. Liam didn't run in medical circles, but he knew plenty about such an injury.

“So it's the same injury as last time,” he said.

“Worse, I'm afraid. She broke it all at once, in the middle of a performance.”

Morbid images of Posy falling to the ground in an agonizing twisted cloud of tulle and sequins flooded Liam's imagination. He squeezed his eyes closed until they faded. “She told Pastor McNeil her foot would heal in six weeks, then she was returning to the ballet company.”

“That's what she says. She's up for a promotion, and if she can't dance in six weeks she'll lose her chance.” Mrs. Sutton had begun wringing her hands.

Liam's headache made a swift return. So Posy's body had a deadline hanging over it? Six weeks to heal or else? Perfect. Just perfect.

He dropped his head in his hands.

Why, God? I don't want this. I don't.

Posy's mom spoke again, dragging him back to the present. “I'm not asking you to save her from herself. I know that would be expecting too much, especially after all this time. But you've always known Posy better than anyone else does. You see her. She can't hide from you like she can from the rest of us. She never could. Can't you just watch her? Simply be there and let us know if something seems wrong?”

She made it sound so easy, so simple. No more complicated than making sure a child stayed out of harm's way.
Don't play in the street. Don't talk to strangers. Don't run with scissors.

But Posy wasn't a child. She was a grown woman. A grown woman with a new name and a new life. A new life that didn't include Liam. How could he sit here across from Posy's mother and tell her that what she was asking was impossible? Even if he wanted to take on such a role—which he most definitely did not—it would have been utterly impossible.

He might have known her once upon a time. But things were different. She wasn't his girl anymore. He wasn't sure she ever had been.

Chapter Four

A
few hours after leaving Posy's house, Liam stood at the edge of the pond—
his
pond, a concept he still sometimes found difficult to believe—and watched Ronnie walk gingerly across the frozen surface carrying a bucket of warm water. Sundog sat at Liam's feet, tail wagging, ears alert, and on Liam's other side, his friend Alec Wynne stood shaking his head.

“That kid is going to fall on his backside,” Alec said.

Liam frowned. “Not if he's careful.”

He didn't want Ronnie to get hurt. Of course he didn't, even though the boy had been driving him a little nuts lately.

“Now what do I do?” Ronnie asked, staring down at the ice at his feet.

“Look for the chipped spots and pour some water over them.” Liam pointed to the far right end of the pond where Melody did most of her jumps when she came by to practice, which was becoming a more and more frequent occurrence. “They tend to accumulate over there, mostly.”

“Got it, Pastor.” Ronnie tightened his grip on the bucket and started slipping and sliding in that direction.

Alec shook his head again. “Are you paying him, or is this slave labor?”

“I'm paying him. A little.” Liam picked up the hose and filled another bucket. Sundog bit at the stream of water, as if he could catch it in his massive jaws. “It's also a penance of sorts.”

Alec laughed. “For?”

“For intentionally throwing a snowball at Melody Tucker's face.”

“Ouch.” Alec winced.

“Yeah. This thing between him and Melody is becoming a problem.” Thus far, Liam's only strategy for solving the problem involved chores. Fortunately, there was no shortage of chores that needed to be done at the pond.

Alec crossed his arms. “Let me guess. Young love?”

Liam forgot what he was doing for a moment, and water sloshed over the edge of his last bucket. He threw the hose down and turned off the spigot. “Young love? I sure hope not.” He hoped not with every fiber of his being.

Alec's eyebrows rose. “Constant bickering? Unmerciful teasing? One minute he's nice to her, and the next minute he's throwing snow in her face?”

That sounded uncomfortably accurate. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“It's love. Trust me.”

Great. The last item Liam needed on his substantial to-do list was dealing with two lovesick teenagers. Especially now.

“Speaking of young love...” Alec gave him a sideways glance.

Liam held up a hand and sighed. “Don't start. Please.”

He'd thought,
hoped
, he could avoid talking about Posy. At least with Alec. Alec was a transplant. He'd been in Aurora for only six months or so. But he was also married to one of Posy's best friends, so the notion that he'd have no idea about Liam and Posy's tumultuous history had undoubtedly been a pipe dream from the start.

“So long as you're handling it well. And clearly you are.” Alec shot him a wry smile.

Liam handed him a bucket. “Here. And yes,
you
are most definitely slave labor.”

Alec laughed, and crunched through the tightly packed snow and onto the surface of the pond. The fine layer of ice atop the snow was due to the unseasonably cold drop in temperature the night before, as were the chips on the surface of the ice. In severely cold weather, ice grew brittle. Brittle ice chipped.

Liam knew that much now. His learning curve since he'd purchased the skating pond had been a big one. He'd taken the plunge as simply a moneymaking venture. Youth pastors weren't exactly overpaid, and the pond was a key component in Aurora's nightlife. Its
only
component, for all practical purposes. When the for-sale sign had gone up, Liam had cashed in the college fund he'd never used and become a skating-rink owner.

But it had quickly become a labor of love. He'd always had an attachment to the pond, like most everything about Aurora. About Aurora itself.

When he'd landed here as a teen, he'd had enough of the nomadic lifestyle that came with being a circuit preacher's kid. Enough of moving from one village to the next, each one somehow seemingly more and more remote. Enough of being a guest in other people's homes instead of sleeping in a bed of his own.

And enough of planes. Planes, planes and more planes. The smell of airplane fuel still made him feel a little sick inside.

He'd wanted a home. A town. A place that was his.

He'd told his parents as much the day they'd unpacked their bags in Aurora. He was staying put. He wanted to make friends, go to a regular school, try out for the baseball team...do all the things normal kids did. He'd seen virtually nothing of the town yet. Just the tree...that fateful tree. Stretching its beautiful blue, snow-laden boughs over everything. Welcoming arms.

His mom and dad had prayed about his announcement, discussed it for days on end. Finally, they'd agreed to buy a house and stay put for three years. Just until he graduated from high school. His dad would come and go as his job required, but Liam, his mother and his brother would stay right there in Aurora.

Liam had been elated. He'd thrown himself into life in Aurora. He'd loved that town. And it had loved him right back. And in time, Aurora—its people, its icicle air, its permafrost ground—had become home.

And now he owned a piece of that town. A piece of its heart. At times, he couldn't believe it. Then something would happen. The temperature would drop suddenly, and the surface of the ice would crack. Or they'd get an unexpected heavy rain, a layer of shale ice would cover the pond, and he'd have to scrape the entire surface. Undoubtedly, Liam would be reminded that he was indeed the owner and operator of an outdoor skating rink.

“No more chips. Everything looks good.” Alec stepped off the ice and tossed the empty bucket into the snow.

Liam wound the hose and turned the water faucet until it was just shy of the off position. A fraction of an inch could make the difference between being stuck with frozen pipes and maintaining his sanity. “Thanks, man. I appreciate the help. There's never a shortage of things to do around here.”

“No problem.” Alec grinned in Ronnie's direction. “With any luck, your boy over there will keep getting in trouble, and you'll have so much help you won't know what to do with all of your free time.”

Sundog flopped on his back and shimmied in the snow, sending a wave of powder flying ten feet. In two seconds flat, Liam was buried up to his shins. “Bored? Doubtful.”

“Pastor?
Pastor!
” Ronnie called from midway across the ice. He skidded toward the edge while juggling his empty red bucket.

“Don't look now, but that trouble I mentioned is about to rear its ugly head,” Alec muttered under his breath.

The crunch of tires on snow caused Liam to turn around, and when he saw the familiar silver truck, he knew at once why Ronnie was in such a hurry to get off the ice.

He turned back around, and sure enough, Ronnie stood before him, red-faced from exertion, scowling at Melody's truck. “What's
she
doing here?”

Liam inhaled calmly. “Melody practices here sometimes before the pond opens up for the night. You know that.”

Ronnie rolled his eyes. “She thinks she's going to be a real skater one day. Please.”

“She already is a real skater.” Graceful. Almost balletic. Sometimes it was like watching a memory glide over the frosted mirror surface of the ice. “Why don't you stick around while she skates? I think you'll be impressed.”

Ronnie looked at Liam in abject horror. “No. Way.”

Behind his back, Alec stifled a grin.

“Ronnie.” Liam lifted a brow. A warning.

“I mean no, thanks.” Ronnie shoved his hands in his pockets and looked everywhere except in the direction of the truck, where Melody was climbing down from the passenger seat, her skates slung over her shoulder by their laces. “I've got homework.”

Sure he did.

“All right. I'll see you tomorrow after school, then,” Liam said.

“See you, Pastor.” Ronnie trudged toward his rust bucket of a car.

Liam called after him, “Thanks for the help fixing the ice.”

Ronnie waved, steadfastly avoiding Melody's gaze as she walked past him. Once he'd just about reached his car, he turned slightly. He ventured a glance at Melody right as she looked at him over her shoulder. She smiled. He smiled in return, then seemed to realize what he was doing. He scowled. She scowled back and stomped toward a bench to sit and put on her skates.

“What did I tell you?” Alec muttered. “Young love. It's a classic case.”

Liam's gut tightened. Alec was right. How had he not seen it before? The two of them were about as subtle as a moose in striped pajamas.

Then again, what had Liam ever known about love?

* * *

Posy had never felt so exhausted and yet so awake at the same time. Three hours and four cups of coffee after arriving at the Northern Lights Inn, she finally left and headed to her parents' house.

Her
house. At least she still thought of it as her house, even though she hadn't darkened its door in seven years.

Six. Not seven.

She wanted to strangle Liam. She kept thinking about him sitting beside her, across from Lou, making his case for why she shouldn't be teaching ballet at the church.

I'm just not sure ballet is the answer. Posy hasn't set foot in Alaska in seven years.

It wasn't a crime. People were allowed to leave home. It was normal. Natural. Liam just felt differently about it because of the way he'd been brought up, always moving from place to place. Home was a sacred concept to Liam. Aurora was sacred.

The town was sacred to her, too. Didn't he understand that?

How could he possibly when you left and never looked back?

She slid her key into the lock on the front door, but it was unnecessary. The knob turned and the door fell open, just as it always had. There were no such things as locked doors in Aurora. Just one of the many differences between a tiny Alaskan town and a big city like San Francisco.

She pocketed her key ring and stepped over the threshold. The interior of the house was dark, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She'd intentionally stayed out later than originally planned. After everything that had transpired at the church, she just wasn't up to seeing her parents. Not yet.

“Posy?” a voice called from the darkened living room. “Is that you?”

So much for avoidance.

“Yes, it's me, Mom.” She limped into the living room, dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. The television, a huge flat-screen Posy had never seen before, flickered quietly in the dark. “What are you doing awake this time of night?”

Her parents went to bed after the ten o'clock news every night. They watched the weather report, kept up with what was happening in Anchorage and headed to bed right after her dad's favorite feature—the daily moose-sighting report, wherein viewers submitted photos of moose out and about town. Her dad held the record in Aurora for the most moose photos ever shown on the local news. Posy had sent him a new smartphone with a good-quality camera feature to replace his ancient flip phone for his birthday after she'd had her first three months' pay as a professional dancer under her belt. He'd been ecstatic.

“What am I doing awake?” Her mother crossed the living room and gave her a tight hug. For some reason, it felt less comforting than the embraces of her girlfriends. More suffocating. “Waiting for you, of course. Your father headed to bed a little before ten, though. He has an early day tomorrow.”

“How early? He went to bed before the moose report?”

“Oh, honey. They don't do the moose report anymore. They haven't for a few years now.” Her mother released her. She smiled, and even in the dim light of the silent television, Posy could see lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before.

“Oh. Wow. I had no idea.” The demise of the moose report struck her as profoundly sad, which was silly, really.

She probably just needed sleep. She'd had an early-morning four-hour flight to Anchorage, followed by her commuter flight to Aurora. Then the church, followed by the coffee date. It was a tribute to the power of Alaska's finest caffeine that she could still hold her head up.

“People were getting carried away. They decided it was dangerous when Ed Candy from the dry cleaners got trampled and broke his foot while he was chasing a moose into the hospital with a camera.”

The hospital? Trampled?

First Liam's crazy dog, now the moose. The animals had gone crazy since she'd been away. Although she could sympathize with poor Ed Candy's broken foot.

Posy's foot throbbed with pain. She'd probably been up and about too much today. She needed to lie down and get it elevated. She needed an ice pack. She needed an Advil. Desperately.

Don't go there.

As if she were reading her mind, Posy's mother asked, “Can I get you anything?”

“Mom, you don't have to wait on me. This is my home, too.” Posy forced herself to smile, even though she suddenly felt like crying.

She would not cry. Not now. She shouldn't feel sad. She should feel mad.

She pretended she was onstage and rearranged her features in a mask of neutrality. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Her mom's gaze flitted about the room, which told Posy she knew perfectly well what was coming. “It's awfully late. You said so yourself. We can talk in the morning.” She extended a hand toward Posy's suitcase.

Posy wheeled it out of reach. “No. I want to talk about it now.”

“Okay. Sit down, sit down.” Her mom patted the sofa cushions and then took a seat opposite in the chair where her dad used to sit when he watched the moose report. Who knew where he sat these days?

Posy obediently sat sideways on the sofa and propped her foot up on a throw pillow. She wondered how long it was going to take before one of them finally mentioned her injury. “Mom, I appreciate your talking to Lou and getting things in order for me to work at the church, but...”