Читать книгу An Alaskan Wedding - Belle Calhoune - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Heat warmed her cheeks as a result of Sheriff Prescott’s comment. Was she really being blamed for the mayhem that had just erupted? The last thing she wanted was for two local yokels to duke it out for her time and attention. She made a mental note to add this to her column for the Tribune. Men shamelessly brawling over a single woman in a local eating establishment. The sheriff of Love forced to break things up. It was thrilling to see how quickly anecdotes for her articles were beginning to materialize. Yet it was annoying to be blamed for something she’d had no part in.

“I never wanted... I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, instantly losing her composure under the heat of his gaze.

His grin was slow in the making, but bit by bit it broke over his face until it seemed as if it stretched from ear to ear. Brown eyes twinkled. Little crinkles gathered near his eyes. “I’m teasing you. Seth and Thomas fight over every little thing under the sun. If they weren’t fighting over you, it would have been over who was picking up the tab or which one of ’em caught the biggest fish.”

Relief swept through her. For some reason she didn’t want the sheriff to think she was starting trouble on her first day in Love. She smiled back at him, feeling a bit dazzled by his pearly whites and effortless charm. He pulled back her chair and gestured for her to sit down. From her seat across from Grace, Sophie was beaming at Sheriff Prescott as if he’d just achieved world peace. Before she could make the introductions, Sophie stuck out her hand. “Howdy. I’m Sophie Miller. Nice to meet the man who keeps law and order in this town.”

“Sheriff Boone Prescott,” he said, reaching out to shake Sophie’s hand. “I do my best to keep this town orderly.”

Prescott? Prescott? The name was now ringing in her ears. She’d heard that name before ever stepping foot into town. What was it about that name? It was on the tip of her tongue. Ahh, yes!

It was Mayor Jasper Prescott who had written the original article about Love, inviting single women to come to his hometown to find romance and to help solve the woman shortage. It was because of Jasper that she’d come up with the idea to write the column about this town and its residents. Now that she was here, she didn’t know whether to thank him or kick him in the shins.

“Hey,” she said, looking up at Boone. “Are you any relation to Jasper Prescott, the town mayor?”

“He sure is.” A raspy voice sounded over her shoulder. She turned her head to see a white haired, whiskered man beaming at her as if he’d been lit up from the inside with a lightbulb. “I’m his grandfather.” He swung his gaze back and forth between her and Sophie, his expression full of joy. “It’s nice to see that Operation Love is in full effect.” He reached over and clapped his grandson on the shoulder. “So, which one of you two lovely ladies is going to take Boone off the market and make me a great-grandfather again?”

* * *

Boone cringed at his grandfather’s none-too-subtle attempt to get him married off. He shouldn’t be surprised, considering this wasn’t the first time he’d tried to play matchmaker on his behalf. Normally, he had the good manners not to mention great-grandchildren. His brother Liam had already given Jasper those bragging rights when his son Aidan was born. At the moment it didn’t seem to matter to Jasper. This time he was clearly going for broke. In response to his pronouncement, Grace’s blue eyes began to blink like a startled owl while Sophie giggled with delight.

“Settle down now, Jasper,” Boone said, trying to shrug off the waves of embarrassment. He didn’t know why Jasper’s meddling was getting to him, since he usually just shook his head and laughed it off. Perhaps it was because of a certain raven-haired newcomer who’d piqued his interest the moment she’d stumbled into his arms. It had been a long time since he’d cared what a woman thought about him, but strangely enough, it mattered to him in this very moment. He didn’t know why, but Grace Corbett’s opinion mattered.

“Hot food coming through.” The loud announcement preceded Cameron’s appearance at the table. He was carrying a large tray filled with drinks and a wide assortment of food. Was it his imagination or was Cameron now serving a much wider variety of foods than he’d realized? He didn’t remember sandwiches being on the menu, or little pizzas. “Hey, Boone.” Cameron acknowledged him with a nod as he deposited plates brimming with food in front of Sophie and Grace. He placed a steaming mug next to each of their plates. “I thought you’d given up coffee.”

“I didn’t stop drinking coffee, Cam,” he explained for what felt like the tenth time. “I’m just not a big fan of those frothy, foamy drinks you specialize in. They’re all tongue twisters, too. A half cup of mocha latte or an iced caramel macchiato with a twist of cinnamon. I like to know what I’m drinking.”

“Don’t knock ’em. Those specialty drinks have put this place on the map,” Cameron answered, a slight edge to his voice.

Boone chuckled. There was a running joke in his family about the Moose Café saving the town from financial ruin. Although the place was doing well, it was a far cry from being Love’s salvation. Perhaps he didn’t say it very often, but he was proud of the way Cameron had turned his life around and made a full-fledged success of his café. If only they could get back to the way things had been between them before everything had fallen apart right along with the cannery deal.

When Cameron had been swindled by his girlfriend’s father and subsequently lost a great sum of the town’s money, it had been hard to find anyone in town to take up for him. He’d been the town’s whipping boy. Boone had tried to defend his brother, but the more he uncovered about the stolen money, the angrier he’d become at Cameron. He’d been so in love with Paige that he’d made foolish, reckless mistakes. And because of it, the whole town of Love had suffered the financial consequences. They’d exchanged words one evening, taking nasty jabs at each other, which were hard to repair in the light of day. Ever since then things had been shaky between them.

Boone watched as Grace picked up her sandwich with both hands and took a big bite out of it. She let out a sigh of appreciation. “This is delicious,” she raved, placing her hand over her mouth as she spoke. She swallowed and took another bite.

“What is it?” Sophie asked, taking a daintier bite of her sandwich. “It’s yummy.”

“Smoked turkey breast with fresh avocado, some crispy bacon and a blue-cheese spread. I’m expanding the menu to attract more culinary-minded customers.”

Jasper waved his hand in the air and plunked himself down in one of the empty chairs. He propped his elbows on the table and said, “Enough about the menu. I want to know what Sophie and Grace think about our little village.”

“They’ve only been here for an hour,” Boone said, shooting his grandfather a warning look. “Let them settle in before you subject them to the grand inquisition.”

Cameron shook his head and threw his hands in the air. “I’ve got to take some orders. Hazel must be swamped in the kitchen.”

Hazel Tookes, owner of the Black Bear Cabins, was a beloved figure in town. In her late sixties, she was an honorary auntie to the Prescott brothers. With her silver hair and piercing green eyes, she was a striking figure. Over the years she’d picked up a lot of the slack in his parents’ absence. Hazel came in a few times a week to help out Cameron in the kitchen and to waitress.

Sophie jumped up from her chair, an eager expression stamped on her face. She bit her lip. “I’d like to make myself useful behind the counter. I’m pretty good at making drinks.”

Cameron shoved his hand through his hair and looked around at the crowd. “That would be great. With all these people in here, I can use all the help I can get.”

Boone’s brother sent him a commiserating look as he walked away with Sophie. They both knew the drill. Jasper was about to start pontificating about the benefits of living in Love, Alaska.

“Forgive me. I’m getting ahead of myself.” Jasper reached for Grace’s hand and raised it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it. “I met Miss Miller earlier on the pier, so I’m assuming you must be Grace Corbett from New York. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’d be happy if you called me Jasper.”

So his hunch about Grace had been correct. She was a city girl, hailing all the way from the Big Apple. Boone deposited himself in the chair vacated by Sophie. He didn’t dare leave his grandfather alone with Grace. There was no telling what nonsense might come out of his mouth that might send her on the first seaplane back to Anchorage. The very thought of her leaving caused a trickle of discomfort to flow through him.

Jasper continued. “Welcome to Love, my dear. May your journey be one of discovery.”

Grace crinkled her nose. “Discovery?”

“Isn’t that what brought you here?” Jasper asked. “A need to find out more about yourself and the world around you?”

Grace shrugged. “In your article you said there was a need for women here in Love. That’s why I’m here. Not sure about the discovery part.”

Jasper chuckled, a low rumble emanating from his chest. “Don’t worry, Grace. I’m seventy-five years old, but I’m still on the trail of several discoveries. Town legend says that a wise leader will find rivers of gold. I’m aiming to be that leader.”

“Legend? What legend?” Grace leaned forward in her seat, her blue eyes dancing with excitement. There was such a sweet look of rapture etched on Grace’s face. For a moment she resembled a small child who’d been promised the sun, sky and moon.

A slow hiss escaped Boone’s lips. “Don’t get him started,” he warned in a low voice. He shook his head at Jasper. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

Jasper leaned in toward Grace, his voice lowering to a stage whisper. “There’s treasure hidden in Love, buried here by one of our ancestors after the Gold Rush. I’m determined to find it. Not for selfish gain, but for the betterment of this town and our community.”

Boone could still hear every word his grandfather uttered, even though Jasper was doing his best to whisper. Although it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, he felt as if he was absorbing it anew through Grace’s perspective. She could be thinking he was a lovable curmudgeon or a raving lunatic. It could go either way.

Grace’s mouth now hung open. Boone couldn’t tell whether she was incredulous or impressed by Jasper’s fanciful tale of gold, hidden treasure and his determination to find it.

“You have a standing invitation to come by my office any time you like and get a personal tour of Love.” He winked at her. “And I might just let you come treasure hunting with me.”

Grace wagged her finger at him. “You better not be teasing me. It sounds like a wonderful adventure. I’m looking forward to it.”

Jasper slowly got to his feet and nodded his head in Grace’s direction. “I have to get back to my office and sign a few ordinances. It has truly been a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Watching his grandfather shuffle away filled Boone’s heart with a mixture of pride and sadness. Jasper wasn’t getting any younger, and his physical decline in recent years had been noticeable. Despite suffering a heart attack a year ago and dealing with chronic arthritis, Jasper still continued to proudly serve as mayor. He’d been serving in that capacity for nearly two decades. Even though Boone thought “Operation Love” was an over-the-top, desperate tactic, he admired Jasper’s passion and the way he’d put himself out there for the world to see, warts and all. Sometimes he worried about his own inability to step out on the ledge and take a risk. For so long now, everything in his life had been nice and comfortable. What was it his father used to say? “No risk, no reward.”

Silence settled over the table in the wake of Jasper’s departure. What now? Idle chitchat? Meaningless conversation? How about this bone-chilling Alaska weather we’re having? Do you come to coffee bars often? He was so out of practice making conversation with an attractive woman, it was downright pitiful. Perhaps he could use a few pointers from his grandfather, who hadn’t skipped a beat in his discussion with Grace.

Boone made the mistake of glancing around the café as his mind raced with things to say to Grace. A few men in town were openly glaring at him, clearly upset that he was spending time with one of the new arrivals in town. Ha! Some of them had no business even trying to talk to Grace. Hugo had been married and divorced three times over while Dean scared off most women once they realized he reeked of his bison farm. Ricky Stanton was staring at Grace with a forlorn expression etched on his face, a clump of droopy flowers clutched in his hand. Deciding to flex his muscles a little bit, Boone edged a little closer to Grace. Declan gave him a thumbs-up sign from his seat at the counter.

“I really admire Jasper’s gusto,” Grace said. “He seems like the sort of person who lives his life with conviction.” There was a wistful tone in her voice that made him curious about who Grace Corbett was as a person. Was she living life to the fullest? Or just existing? Had her heart led her all the way to Love? Or was she looking to shake things up in her world?

“You’re right about Jasper. He lives life to the fullest in a no-holds-barred kind of way. He’s had a few health scares recently, so I wish he would settle down some, but he’s pretty ornery. Please don’t take his comments about the legend to heart. This town is his whole life, and he’d believe in almost anything that might help us out of this financial setback. Hope is a wonderful thing, but banking on centuries-old treasure is kind of pie in the sky.”

Grace jutted out her chin. “I think it’s wonderful that he believes in something, especially after all he’s been through.”

Boone frowned. “So you read the article? And what he said about losing my grandmother?”

She nodded, her eyes radiating compassion. “Yes, I did. It was one of the most moving things I’ve ever read. Loving someone and losing them is a terrible thing.”

Boone shuddered as a dozen different thoughts roared through him. On the one hand, it didn’t sit well with him that Jasper had aired the family’s dirty laundry for all to see and read about with their morning coffee and Danish. On the other hand, it had been Jasper’s story to tell. He’d lived it. And Boone had no right to judge him for it. He’d done it for the greater good—to inspire women to move lock, stock and barrel to the place his family called home.

“He laid himself bare in that article, all in the hopes of inspiring women to come to Love and plant roots here. But Operation Love might not work out the way he’s envisioned. I don’t want him to get his heart broken all over again.” There was a ragged little catch to his voice, one born of suppressed emotion and tenderness. He locked eyes with Grace, and he knew she’d heard the emotion in his voice. He could see it reflected back at him in her eyes.

Grace’s expression fell, and she appeared shaken by his comment. “I’m not sure you can protect him against a broken heart, no matter how badly you might want to. Take it from me, hearts don’t come with a warning label.”

* * *

By late afternoon, the crowd at the Moose Café had dwindled to a few stragglers. Sheriff Prescott had taken off shortly after she made her comment about broken hearts. Judging by his reaction, it fell under the category of “too much information.” She shouldn’t be surprised. Most men shied away from conversations about feelings and heartache. Come to think of it, so did she. But there had been something so poignant and genuine about his desire to protect his grandfather. It had cracked her wide open.

Hearts don’t come with a warning label. Ugh! She couldn’t believe those words had tumbled off her lips. There must be something in the Alaskan air that caused blabber-itis. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

After Cameron shut down the kitchen and coffee bar he laid out some basic rules about working for him. He seemed like a pretty laid-back and reasonable boss. He gave each of them a uniform—a custom designed T-shirt with a big brown moose on it. The words, Got coffee? had been printed on one of the antlers. There were also a pair of sweatpants with the words Moose Café printed down the side of one leg. Grace didn’t know what was more upsetting. The ugly brown uniform or the idea of coming to work tomorrow as a barista. She chewed on her lip, wondering if she should pull Cameron aside and confess her lack of real-world experience as a barista.

No, she couldn’t do it. It might cast her in a bad light and draw suspicion on her. She didn’t need anyone in Love questioning her reasons for being in Alaska. This series would rise and fall on the real-life experiences of the townsfolk. If she couldn’t get them to trust her and talk freely with her about their trials and tribulations, as well as the woman shortage...there would be no series. If they had any reason to suspect her, they might clam up. She was just going to have to channel her inner barista and do her best to whip up the best coffee drinks ever served at the Moose Café.

Since she and Sophie were both going to be living at the Black Bear Cabins, Hazel, their new landlord, had offered to drive them over. Grace was feeling a little jet-lagged after the long flight and the meet and greet with the residents of Love. It would be nice to get into some comfy clothes and relax. Something about the dark, dreary climate was making her more tired than usual. Not to mention that her fingers were itching to write up some of her observations on her computer before she settled in for the night.

The moment they stepped outside she noticed the sign reading Sheriff’s Department tacked on to the building directly across the street. She let out a sigh. Having the easy-on-the-eyes sheriff so close by might not be such a good thing. Being in Love had nothing to do with discovery or making a match with a hunky Alaskan man. It was all about her job. Staying here in Alaska for six weeks was a means to an end. This series about the citizens of Love, Alaska, would sell itself. All she had to do was write meaty articles and sprinkle them with slices of everyday life in this charming hamlet.

The minute Jasper had started talking about the Gold Rush and lost treasure, he’d totally captured her attention. It was the perfect angle for the piece. It added a historical perspective and a folksy charm that would hook readers. She brushed aside the kernel of guilt gnawing at her. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be subjecting this small village to considerable media once her piece about buried treasure in Love hit the presses. She prayed it wouldn’t turn into a media circus with treasure hunters descending on the fishing village in pursuit of riches.

It’s not my problem, she reminded herself. Eyes on the prize. In six weeks’ time this town would be nothing more than a memory for her. The only person she had any allegiance to was herself. And her job at the New York Tribune.

“It’s only about an eight-minute drive to the cabins,” Hazel explained as she navigated her truck along the snow-covered streets of downtown Love. Grace quietly took in all the quaint shops along Jarvis Street as Sophie chattered away in the front seat. There was a barbershop, a small bookstore called The Bookworm, a trading post, a post office and a pawnshop. Grace wrinkled her nose. Where were the nail salon and the beauty shop? Had her research led her astray? She’d been certain that at least one beauty shop existed in Love. Perhaps it had closed down or it wasn’t located in the center of town. Maybe nails and hair weren’t deemed important here.

“How do you drive in all this snow?” Grace asked, her eyes transfixed by the snowflakes swirling through the air. It fascinated her to see Hazel tackling the rugged, icy terrain as if it was no big deal.

“As long as I have my all-wheel drive and studded tires, I’m good. You get used to driving in snow and ice in this type of climate. We’re heading into the rainy season, too, which has its own challenges. Luckily, winters aren’t as brutal here on the coast as they are in the interior. At least here in Love we can enjoy outdoor activities without freezing our tails off.”

Nope! Grace thought. Freezing her tail off was definitely not an option.

Along the way they passed a few other cars and some townsfolk. Each and every time, Hazel tooted her horn and waved. If nothing else, Grace got the impression that the folks here in town were part of a tight-knit community. In New York, people typically honked their horns as a sign of annoyance and rarely as a way of greeting their neighbors.

They sped by several moose-crossing signs, a sight that caused Grace to take out her camera and snap a few pictures. Although she had no idea what happened when you ran across a moose, the very idea of it seemed surreal. When Hazel turned off the main road, a faded, rusted sign announced the Black Bear Cabins. Snow-covered trees lined the lane leading to the property. Beautiful white-capped mountains loomed in the distance, serving as a reminder that she was in a completely different world than the one she normally inhabited. The cabins were a reddish brown color and were rustic in appearance. Each one had a porch out front with two Adirondack chairs filling up the small space.

Hazel helped them lug their suitcases to their front porches. As she made her way to her new lodging, snow and ice seeped into her shoes, bringing into sharp focus her earlier conversation with the sheriff of Love. She hated to admit it, but her shoe choice hadn’t been practical. Sooner rather than later, she was going to have to dig out her furry, heeled boots.

Their new landlord took out a key and opened up the cabin door. She ushered them in with a flourish, extending her hand as she said, “Here are your digs. Living room, kitchen, bed and bath. Nothing fancy, but it’s warm and safe.” She handed Sophie another key. “Your place is next door. If you need anything I’m at the lodge right down the road. There’s a blue rock outside poking through the snow. You can’t miss it.” Before Grace could blink, Hazel was gone.

Grace frowned as she looked around the utilitarian cabin. Every single thing in the cabin was brown and no-frills. She had a sudden flashback to Camp Hiawatha, the overnight camp her parents had stuck her for three long weeks when she’d been twelve. The word bleak instantly came to mind. “This place is—”

“Full of possibilities,” Sophie interjected.

Grace turned toward the closest thing she had to a friend in Love. Although she was hoping to see a look of dismay on her face, all she saw was a perky little smile. She dropped her bags to the hardwood floor with a thud and heaved a tremendous sigh. She liked Sophie an awful lot, but there was no way on Earth she could fix this situation. As far as Grace was concerned, the next six weeks couldn’t go by fast enough.