Читать книгу Klondike Hero - Jillian Hart - Страница 7

Karenna Digby pulled her car in front of the diner in nowhere, Washington State—she had no idea where she was—and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. The lace cuff of her sleeve caught on the emergency brake. Stupid wedding dress. She was tired, heartbroken and starving. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had a real meal, since she’d been dieting to fit into her gown for months.

She shoved open the door, the tap of rain on her face felt like the tears she could not shed. She grabbed her purse and her dress’s train, planted her expensive white shoes on either side of a huge puddle. Yes, she would have to park in a puddle. That was the way her day—her would-be wedding day—was going. She slammed the door and spotted the “Just Married” sign on her back window.

Stupid sign. She skirted the puddle, tossed her train over the crook of her arm and tore at it. It ripped in half, one piece sticking stubbornly to the window. What had her sisters used to adhere it to the glass? Superpowered glue? It wouldn’t come off.

The heavens opened, and the rain turned to a torrential downpour. Leaving the tattered half of the sign for later, she wove around the puddles on the worn blacktop. She could only hope she didn’t look as bedraggled as she felt—then she caught her reflection in the diner’s windows and groaned at the lonely bride with wilting roses braided into her hair.

“Table for two?” The gum-cracking waitress asked at the rickety podium that served as a hostess stand.

“No. There’s just me.”

“I see. Sorry to hear it. Once that happened to me, too, honey.” She led the way down the aisle in sensible rubber shoes that squeaked with her gait. “What you have to do is not let it get to you. Get back up, shake off the hurt and find you another man. Don’t let one bad seed ruin your attitude about love.”

“Thanks.” She slipped into the booth patched with duct tape and let the train fall to the bench beside her. At least she wasn’t the only bride in history to have been left at the altar. It just felt that way.

“Menus are on the table.” The waitress pulled a pad out of her pocket. “What you want to drink, hon?”

“Coffee, please.” She would start with that. Her stomach might be growling, but she wasn’t sure she could keep down anything more than liquids. Devastation hung on her like a lead weight. She thought of her family’s fury at her, and her younger sisters, both married of course, patting her consolingly. “He’ll come to his senses,” Kim had said. “You just have to be patient with him,” Katie had advised.

Patient? She wanted to be married. She had the dress. She’d had the groom. She had a future as Alan’s wife all mapped out. How could he do this to her? Her two-carat engagement ring sparkled as she reached for the worn, laminated menus tucked between the paper napkin dispenser and the wall. She didn’t know what to do. She’d dated Alan for seven years. They’d been high-school sweethearts and attended the University of Washington together, strolling hand in hand down the tree-lined avenues and along picturesque walkways, and studying in their favorite carrels in the undergraduate library.

Now that was all gone. All the love and hope vanished as if they’d never been.

Send me a sign, Lord. Please. Show me what to do. She yanked the menu free, and bold print caught her eye. There was a magazine tucked against the wall, its pages folded over to an article with a catchy headline. “Treasure Creek, Alaska, Seeks Brides for Hunky Habitants!” Rain dripped off her hair as she seized the magazine and spread it out on the table in front of her. Hunky men were looking for brides? Was this for real?

Sure enough, the picture above the headline showed a small town, tucked into the gentle embrace of thick, lush forests and reaching, breathtaking mountains. Another picture, inset into the article, showed a long-angled shot of a cute old-fashioned town and a sign that read, Welcome to Treasure Creek.

“A customer left that behind.” The waitress returned, overturned the cup and poured. “Interesting article. If I was single, I might hop in the car and go take a look. I mean, good, decent single men are hard to find.”

“And even when you do, they have commitment issues.”

“Amen, sister.” The waitress set the carafe down and hauled out her notepad. “Does anything on the menu look good?”

Maybe she could eat. She ordered a cup of soup and a club sandwich and turned her attention back to the Now Woman magazine article.

“Think all the good men are taken? Not so in tiny, charming Treasure Creek, Alaska, population 724. The hunky inhabitants are churchgoing, marriage-minded single men in a town with one woman for every five men! Many of them are tour guides for the town’s popular tour company, Alaska’s Treasures.”

Churchgoing and marriage-minded sounded good. In fact, it sounded heaven-sent. She grabbed the sugar jar and upended it over the steaming cup, stirring it into the black, tarry brew as she kept reading….

“Alaska’s Treasures is run by the founder’s widow, Amy James. They’re the best tour guides in the state, she says, proudly. And they’re the hottest, ladies. A handsome pediatrician, originally from the big city, moonlights as a tour guide along the famous Klondike Highway, the very route taken by the gold rush stampede of 1898. No worries if you break a nail on the trail, ladies, he’ll be right there to mend it!”

A glossy photograph of a totally hunky man with brownish hair and blue eyes stared back at her. The caption underneath the picture stated jauntily, “Doctor Alex Havens is single, ladies!”

Not bad. Karenna took a sip of coffee, let the heat and sweetness roll over her tongue. Rain sluiced down the window, smearing the view of the outside world, making the small diner seem cozy and the agony of the morning fade a notch. If only she could make her despair fade, too.

A muffled electronic chime rang from inside her purse. She unzipped the compartment and checked her cell. Her sister calling. Karenna squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the humiliation. Her stomach knotted, knowing what Kim would say. All that money, and no wedding. All the time spent, and for nothing. Come back and try to fix things.

She took a deep breath and let it ring. She wasn’t up to talking about her failures right now. What she needed was hope. She’d spent seven years of her life on a man who ran at the reality of marrying her. She’d wasted seven years loving someone who didn’t truly love her back.

When she opened her eyes, the article stared up at her. She turned the page and several more hunky men smiled up at her, all proclaimed bachelors, each handsome face looking like Mr. Right. Maybe these Alaska bachelors were the kind of men who knew how to keep promises and make commitments, men of honor and great of heart. Interested, she kept reading.

“So many of the guides, from the hunky chief of police to the strapping commercial fishermen, are among Alaska’s Most Eligible bachelors. So, ladies, if you’re looking for the adventure vacation of a lifetime that just might last a lifetime, what are you waiting for?”

Thirty-eight hours, forty-two minutes and a few coffee breaks later…