On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (22 page)

“D
ammit,” Dalton Gray shouted at the Alaska Airlines representative on Monday afternoon. “I've talked with my associate, and Jenna Campbell was on Flight 232, leaving LAX on Sunday morning with a plane change in Seattle. The flight landed in Fairbanks on schedule.”

“I'm pleased you were able to confirm that.” The woman behind the counter displayed a decided lack of patience, which irritated him further.

“
And
she collected her luggage.” He wasn't entirely sure of that, though. The airlines had offered damn little help in locating Jenna.

“Yes.” The woman's gaze dropped to the computer screen. “That's the information I have as well.”

Dalton did his best to maintain his composure. “Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find any trace of her after she left the baggage claim area.” He'd spent almost twenty-four hours searching every hotel in Fairbanks, looking for
his Internet sweetheart. So far, all his efforts had achieved was more frustration.

“Perhaps you should notify the authorities,” the airline representative suggested.

“No, thanks,” he muttered as he stepped away from the counter. The “authorities” were the last people he wanted to visit. He'd been so anxious to meet Jenna, he'd arrived at the airport a full day early. With twenty-four hours to kill, he'd stopped for a beer at a local tavern. No need to sit around the airport and wait, Dalton had decided. That was his first mistake.

Sure enough, he'd met up with an old friend and one thing had led to another and before he knew it he was drunk. He might have made it back to the airport in time, but the waitress knew him and, well—what could he say? Dalton was weak when it came to women. He never could refuse a lady. Never had and probably never would.

Only now, his roving eye had caused him to miss Jenna's flight and he didn't have any idea where she was. Walking over to the pay phone, he dialed his office in Beesley.

Larry Forsyth answered. “Beesley Air Service.”

“It's Dalton.”

“You find your ladyfriend yet?” Larry asked.

“No. She didn't happen to show up there, did she?” He could always hope.

“I haven't seen hide nor hair of her. Just spoke to her the one time. You didn't tell me you had this woman flying in, Dalton. If I'd known, I would've told her you were on your way. She sounded anxious, too—said she was afraid something might've happened to you.”

Dalton wanted to groan. He had a live one on the line, and due to his own foolishness he'd let her slip away.

Larry sure hadn't been much help. “The next time I'm not there and a woman phones for me, tell her where to reach me, okay?”

“You don't want me to do that,” Larry told him. “Because you don't want certain women to know where you are—remember?”

Dalton ground his teeth. “You know what I mean!”

“You can't expect me to keep track of all your ladyfriends. Besides, it's your own damn fault for getting drunk.”

Luckily he hadn't told Larry about his interlude with Trixie, the waitress. The woman was trouble—not only was she married, but she had a habit of clinging to him, especially when he needed to leave.

“I'll call back in a couple of hours. If Jenna phones again, find out where she is so I can get her.”

“You looked outside recently?” Larry asked.

Dalton had been too busy canvassing the airlines and searching for Jenna to care about the weather. “No, why?”

“We got a storm coming in.”

“What?” This situation was getting worse by the second.

“You're grounded.”

Dalton ran his hand over his face. “How long?”

“Up to three days.”

Dalton resisted the urge to stamp his foot. Damn, he didn't have any luck but bad.

“What you need to do,” Larry suggested, “is think like a woman.”

Dalton frowned. “Think like a woman?”

“Yeah. If you were this Jenna Campbell and you landed in Fairbanks and expected to be met and weren't—what would you do?”

Dalton thought about it. He didn't know. “I've already contacted every hotel in town. She isn't in any of them.”

“Does she have friends in the area?”

“She said she didn't.” This was helping, though. With so many frustrations getting in the way, he hadn't been thinking straight.

“Well, what else would she do?”

“If you were a woman in this kind of situation, what would
you
do?” Dalton asked.

“I'm not a woman.”

“Dammit, Larry, don't get cute with me.”

“If I were a woman,” his friend said, elevating his voice to a squeaky, irritating pitch, “I'd be really, really upset.”

Dalton let that sink in. “Yeah, I bet she's furious all right.”

“Then I'd…I'd want to get even,” Larry continued in his falsetto.

“Get even?”

“I'd want you to worry.”

“I'm worried, I'm worried.” Actually Dalton was more angry than worried. He'd already wasted two good days and now it looked like he was stuck in Fairbanks for three more. Normally that wouldn't be so bad, but Trixie's husband was due back this afternoon, if he could make it through the storm. Dalton wouldn't find any solace with her until his next visit, and only if his arrival happened to coincide with her husband's absence.

“How long have you known this new girl?” Larry asked, his voice returning to normal.

Dalton had to mull over the question. He'd been corresponding via the Internet with five or six women, but he'd chosen Jenna over the others. For some reason, he had an innate ability when it came to attracting the opposite sex. For him, it was all about conquest, about persuading a woman to fall in love with him. After the initial seduction he quickly lost interest.

The Internet had been a real boon. The word was out around town, but the Internet gave him a whole new field of operation. Women loved to weave unrealistic fantasies around Alaskan men. Dalton did his best to fulfill the role, dramatizing his life and adventures in the bush. They
swooned over the fact that he was a pilot. He was equally good at playing the sensitive poetic type; a secondhand edition of
Bartlett's Quotations
had come in mighty handy there. That was the persona Jenna had preferred.

She was the third woman he'd convinced to visit Alaska. The first two had lasted less than a month. By the middle of the second week, Dalton was tired of them, anyway, and eager for them to leave.

“Dalton, you there?” Larry yelled.

“I'm here. I was just thinking about your question. I guess we've been e-mailing back and forth for three or four months now. Maybe longer.”

“Three or four months?” Larry echoed. “But wasn't Megan Knoll with you then?”

“Yeah, and your point is?” Dalton figured Larry was jealous of his ability to attract women. He'd offered to give the other man lessons on the subtle art of seduction, but his business partner showed no talent for it.

“My point is…” Larry hesitated. “Never mind, you wouldn't understand.”

Obviously not. “Hell, Larry, where could she be?”

“Is she like all the others?” Larry asked. “Or does this one have a brain?”

Dalton wasn't necessarily interested in that part of a woman's anatomy. “I suppose so, if talking about poetry means you have a brain.”

“Could she have hired another pilot to fly her in?”

Dalton expelled his breath. “I thought of that. I've talked to everyone I know and a few I don't. As far as I can tell, she didn't connect with anyone here.”

“Then I don't know what to tell you.”

“Yeah, think like a woman,” Dalton muttered sarcastically.

“Have you called the cops?”

Larry knew damn well he wanted nothing to do with the sheriff's department. He wasn't on friendly terms with
Alaska's finest. No, sirree. He'd barely escaped jail time with his most recent scam and had no desire to further his acquaintance with the law.

“What're you going to do next?” Larry asked.

“Hell if I know.” Damn fool woman should've stayed in one place. This was what he got for crediting her with common sense.

“You know—”

“What?” Dalton interrupted, anxious.

“Women like to talk,” Larry said.

“Yeah.” Dalton already knew that.

“Maybe she made friends with someone on the flight, chatting the way they do.”

“Good idea, Lar.”

“I was just thinking like a woman.” The falsetto voice was back.

“I'll check with the airline right now.”

“You do that, sweetheart,” Larry purred.

Dalton ignored him. “I'll call back in a couple of hours. Maybe by then Jenna will have tried to reach me at the office.”

“I won't tell her about us, darlin'.”

“Cut it out, Larry.” Dalton slammed down the receiver. He wasn't in the mood for jokes. However, Larry had given him a helluva good idea. He should've thought of it himself—Jenna meeting up with someone on the flight. When Dalton wasn't at the airport as planned, Jenna had probably accepted an invitation to stay with this newfound friend of hers. What didn't make sense was no contact since that time.

When he got to the Alaska Airlines counter, there was a long line of people waiting, hoping to escape before the full force of the storm hit. Thankfully he moved forward quickly as he waited his turn to talk to the airline representative. The same woman he'd spoken to twice before.

Her smile faded when she saw it was him. “How can I help you?” she asked.

“It's about my friend.”

“Yes, I suspected it was. Have you been able to locate her?”

“Not yet.” Dalton leaned closer to the desk. “I think that when I wasn't here to meet her, she went home with someone she met on the flight.”

The middle-aged woman's expression didn't change.

“Do you think that might've happened?”

“It's a possibility.”

“Yes, well, I'm short on those, so I was wondering if you'd be kind enough to let me see the names of everyone else on the flight.”

She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly. “I'm afraid I can't do that.”

“And why not?”

“It's company policy. I can't hand over the passenger manifest simply because someone asked for it.”

“But—”

“In these days of high security, you can't honestly expect me to give you sensitive material.”

“Sensitive material?” he exploded.

“Perhaps you'd care to speak to my supervisor?”

Now that was more like it. “Yes, I would.”

“I don't think it'll do any good,” she added as she rang for someone else.

Dalton snorted. “We'll just see about that.”

The woman had the nerve to look him full in the eye and say, “Yes, you will.”

J
enna had been thrilled at the first appearance of snow. It had seemed truly lovely and had brightened the whole landscape. The day had been overcast and bleak but an inch or two of snow had turned the world a pristine, sparkling white. Christmas was only six weeks away, and it seemed as if she'd stepped inside a holiday greeting card.

However, after several hours of continuous snowfall, she'd lost her fascination with it. It was still snowing, the wind so strong the flakes blew horizontally.

“Staring out the window isn't going to change anything.” Reid spoke from behind her.

These were the first words either of them had uttered in ages. She didn't bother to respond.

“You can stand there and mope or we can make the best of this,” he added.

“I am not moping.” She whirled around to face him and discovered he'd brought out a deck of cards and was playing solitaire.

“I know Blackie frightened you.”

Frightened
her? It'd taken her pulse hours to recover from her encounter with the bear. “That isn't the half of it.”

“You're over it now, aren't you?”

If she lived another hundred years, she would never forget the sight of that humongous bear rearing up on his two hind feet directly in front of her. The gleam in his eyes said she looked good enough to eat, and God help her, she couldn't have moved an inch if he
had
decided to make her his evening meal.

“Blackie's harmless,” Reid insisted. “He comes into town to scrounge through the garbage, although I will admit he's generally down for the winter by now.”

“I don't find that reassuring.”

“This is Alaska, Jenna.”

“Okay, fine. This is Alaska. I should've expected to meet a black bear on Main Street. Silly me.” For emphasis she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand.

“There's no need to be sarcastic.”

She turned back and resumed staring out the window.

“Do you play cribbage?”

She didn't answer him.

“I was just trying to pass the time, but I can see you're determined to make us both miserable.”

“It's what you deserve.”

“Trust me, I'd have you out of here in a New York minute if I could. I don't need a woman messing up my life. In fact, I don't need anyone.”

Turning back, she did a slow appraisal of his living quarters and then let her hard gaze rest on him. “I can tell.”

He was angry now if his narrowed eyes were any indication. Slowly he rose to his feet. He opened his mouth as though to give her a verbal flaying, but before he could get out a word, there was a loud knock on the front door.

Jenna's gaze flew to the door. Maybe Dalton had found her and come to rescue her from this horrible man.

Reid stomped over to the door and threw it open. His brooding frown dissolved when Addy, Palmer and Pete marched inside. Pete carried a steaming cast-iron kettle.

“We brought you dinner,” Addy announced.

“It's Jake's stew,” Palmer said.

“Jake thought it might be just the thing to welcome Jenna to Snowbound, seeing that the town's living up to its name.”

“How thoughtful.” Jenna smiled at the three men. “I'll thank him when I can.”

“Jake said there was plenty for four or five people.” Addy eyed the pot suggestively.

“We figured you two might welcome company,” Palmer said, glancing from Reid to Jenna and then back to Reid again.

A tense silence followed before Reid spoke. “Would you three care to join us?”

“Don't mind if I do,” Addy leaped in.

“I suppose I could, since Addy's staying,” Palmer said.

Pete shook his head. “I better get back. I only came to see if there was anything you needed from the store before the worst of the storm hits.”

Jenna and Reid spoke at the same time.

“It's getting
worse?
” she muttered.

“We're fine,” Reid assured the other man.

“How's it going?” she heard Pete ask Reid in a low whisper. The older man gave Reid a knowing poke in the ribs. “You going to score?”

“The only thing Reid is going to score is a black eye if he so much as comes within twenty feet of me.” Jenna wanted every man in town to understand that right now. If Reid entertained any notion of a dalliance with her during the snowstorm, then he was in for more trouble than he'd know what to do with.

“I'd rather kiss a rattlesnake than
her
,” Reid retaliated, inclining his head in Jenna's direction as if there might be some other female in the vicinity.

Addy laughed and slapped his knee. “I'd like to see you try.”

Palmer and Pete laughed heartily. As they'd mentioned earlier, there wasn't much entertainment in town, and they took their laughs where they could get them. Apparently they had a penchant for low comedy.

“So—we going to eat or not?” Addy asked.

“I'm starved.” Palmer rubbed his palms together eagerly.

Pete stepped closer to the door. “See ya later.”

“Be sure and thank Jake for me,” Reid said.

“I will.” The door opened and closed, and Pete was gone.

Addy and Palmer headed toward the pot of stew and waited impatiently while Reid washed four bowls and spoons.

Now that she thought about it, Jenna realized she was famished, too. It was dinnertime and she hadn't eaten all day.

Reid placed a ladle in the middle of the table, and Addy and Palmer both grabbed for it. Elbowing each other, they fought for the top bowl; Addy won and dug into the pot of simmering stew as if it was his last meal.

“Addy, Palmer,” Reid barked.

The two older men froze, then glanced toward Reid.

“There's a lady present.”

Addy scratched his beard and was about to argue, but changed his mind after Reid sent him a stern look.

“Ladies go first,” Palmer said and reluctantly stepped aside.

“You help yourself,” Reid instructed Jenna, stretching out his arms to hold back the two old geezers.

“Thank you,” Jenna said, reaching for the third bowl.

“Don't be takin' all the meat, either,” Addy grumbled.

“Addy,” Reid said beneath his breath. “I can uninvite you.”

Addy grumbled again, something she couldn't hear. Then he said, “You take as much of that tender meat as you want, Miss Campbell. Just remember, some people got real teeth.”

“And some don't,” Palmer added.

Jenna ladled a helping of stew into her bowl and picked up a spoon. As soon as she moved away, the two men landed on the stew like vultures on fresh kill.

The old men ate standing up. They kept their faces close to their bowls and slurped up the stew. There were only two chairs at the kitchen table and they'd insisted the lady have one and their host the other. Moments later Addy and Palmer had gulped down their meals.

“Good vittles.” Addy nodded and placed his bowl in the sink.

“We hate to eat and run, but we better get home,” Palmer said, following his friend.

“Goodbye, Addy, Palmer,” Jenna said. “I hope I didn't take more than my fair share of the meat.”

“It's all right,” Addy told her kindly.

“You gonna stay in town after the storm?” Palmer asked.

“No,” but it was Reid who answered instead of Jenna. “I'll have her out of here the first chance I get.”

“I have no intention of staying a moment longer than necessary.” She cast Reid a look that informed him she was capable of answering questions on her own.

“See ya,” Addy said.

Palmer waved politely, put his wool cap back on his head and then the two of them were gone.

When the door banged shut, the ensuing silence seemed deafening.

Jenna finished her stew. Now that her stomach was full, she felt more relaxed, less irritated. She glanced at Reid and he immediately looked away.

“I'll do the dishes,” she said, hoping he'd view her offer as a gesture of peace.

“No, I will,” Reid snapped. “Far be it from me to ask anything of you.”

“Then you do them.” She was only trying to help.

“You were the one who made such a fuss about cleaning up earlier, remember? I'll take care of it myself.”

“I wouldn't dream of destroying your sense of order.” His housekeeping method consisted of accumulating piles of junk in every corner of the cabin.

“Good. That's the way I want it.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms.

“Do you always have to have the last word?”

She shrugged.

He snorted.

She coughed.

He laughed.

While he did the dishes, Jenna picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them, then dealt out a game of solitaire. She pretended not to notice when he'd finished and momentarily left the room.

He came back carrying a thick paperback novel. He settled down in front of the fire with every appearance of comfort.

Jenna had read the courtroom drama several months earlier and been enthralled by its twists and turns, marveling at the author's ability to casually weave in elements that would later turn out to be of key importance. She'd read an interview with him recently and would have enjoyed discussing the book with Reid. His mood, however, didn't encourage conversation.

A half hour later, Reid went into the kitchen and she heard the coffeepot start to perk. He returned, standing behind her. She couldn't see him, but she felt his presence.

“Red jack on the black queen,” he said.

“I saw that,” she muttered, although she hadn't. She moved the cards around.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Please.”

A few moments later, he brought her a mug.

When he set it down on the table next to her, she said, “To answer your earlier question, I do know how to play cribbage. My grandfather taught me—but it's been years since I played so I might be a little rusty.”

“Are you saying you'd be willing to play?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“All right.” He opened a drawer and brought out an exquisite hand-carved playing board.

Jenna picked it up and examined it, impressed by the fine workmanship.

“My father made that nearly thirty years ago,” Reid told her.

“I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful one.”

An almost-smile flickered, then faded.

He shuffled and they cut for the deal. Reid easily won the first game. They decided to play a second one.

“How long have you lived in Alaska?” she asked as she gathered up her cards.

“Born here.”

“In Snowbound?”

“No, Fairbanks.”

He certainly wasn't forthcoming with details.

“There's just your sister and you?”

“Yup.” They laid down their hands, counted back and forth, and each moved the pegs forward.

“I envy you having a sister,” Jenna murmured. As an only child, she'd often dreamed of what it would be like to have a sibling. Her parents' marriage hadn't lasted long. Her father had moved on, remarried and apparently had other children. He'd never kept in touch with Jenna. It had just been Jenna and her mother—between marriages, of course!

“Then you can understand why I feel about Dalton the way I do. He used Lucy. She was young and naive and she fell right into his trap. He's a womanizer of the worst kind—seduce 'em and throw them away.”

Jenna counted to ten before she spoke. “I think it would be best if we didn't discuss Dalton.” She'd need to make her own judgments about the man. She would, once she'd met him for herself, but until then she'd go by what she knew of him from their Internet relationship.

Reid glared at her, then handed her the deck. “Your deal.”

“Okay.” She shuffled the cards and dealt. “My mother must be worried sick. I told her I'd phone as soon as I landed.”

“I saw you on the phone.”

“I've already explained that I was calling the man we decided not to discuss.”

“You phoned Dalton before your mother?”

“Why, yes. I was concerned. He said he'd be waiting for me and he wasn't. I didn't know what to think.”

“Maybe his not showing up was a clue to the kind of man he is.”

Jenna slapped the cards on the table. “We weren't going to discuss Dalton, remember?”