Читать книгу Klondike Hero - Jillian Hart - Страница 8

“I’ve got more diapers and formula,” Gage Parker grumbled into the pay phone on the corner of the town’s main street. Treasure Creek, Alaska, sandwiched between rugged snowcapped peaks and pristine forests, was an old gold-rush town currently jam-packed with women, thanks to some magazine article. He couldn’t hear a single word his grandmother said, because a pair of fancy women strolled by the booth, talking and giggling and commenting on how quaint everything was.

He didn’t like “quaint” and he didn’t like giggling women. Women were everywhere in a town where females were usually scarce. They’d all flown in with their mounds of luggage and driven in with their city cars—not a four-wheel-drive among them. Even in the falling twilight, he could see them. They strolled the sidewalks, took up tables at Lizbet’s Diner and went exploring in the wilderness, which is why he was out at nine forty-five at night when any sensible person would be home. But no, some clueless woman had gotten herself stuck halfway up a cliff this evening and he’d been on the search-and-rescue team that rapelled down to save her.

“I didn’t know rock climbing would be so hard,” the clueless gal had breathlessly explained, once she was clipped in and safely against his chest. She smiled coyly up at him. “My, don’t you have strong arms.”

Ugh. The lack of needy women was one of the big draws for moving from Seattle back to Alaska. His grandmother needing help had been the other.

“Sounds like all kinds of commotion is going on,” Gran chirped, downright chipper on the other end of the line. She would be. Nothing tickled her more than that article telling about how Treasure Creek’s men wanting for wives seriously outnumbered the available women. “Any of those gals catch your fancy, Gage?”

“Wishful thinking on your part. There would have to be something wrong with a woman to want to get tangled up with the likes of me.” He had proof of that in his ex-wife, who had been one of those women who’d wanted a wedding but not marriage. She’d seen her vows as merely a suggestion on how to behave as a wife. “Anything else you need me to do in town?”

“I’ll take pity on you, my boy, and I won’t tell you to find a nice girl and bring her on home—at least this time. You already know the baby could use a mama.”

Oh, she was having a heyday. Gage shook his head, trying to drum up some patience. He didn’t want to hurt the elderly woman’s tender feelings. “My nephew is doing just fine with the two of us. What I need is to find the right nanny, not a wife—just so we’re clear on that.”

“That won’t stop me from praying the right woman for you comes along.”

Great. More prayers. Just what he needed. God had better things to do than trying to fix the impossible. The darkness he’d seen in his recent life had only reinforced that. His baby nephew’s mother had died, his brother had been too busy to raise the child and dumped him off just shy of a week ago. Ben James, Gage’s boss and one of his close friends, had died in an on-the-job accident in January, leaving his wife, Amy, a widow, with two young sons and a struggling business. Not to mention his own fight to recover from a bitter divorce. That was plenty enough disillusion to go around.

Yep, there didn’t seem much reason to believe God was up there looking out for him. Not these days. He shook his head. “Gran, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and head home.”

“You and that surly disposition of yours. You had better shape up. You never know when your future wife will come along and you go and scare her off. Why, you could meet her on the street tonight.”

“Sure, she could fall from the sky like manna from heaven.” He did his best not too sound too cynical. His grandmother was a firm believer. He didn’t want to mar that for her. He wished he had her strength of faith—a strength she maintained despite all her life’s hardships.

He ended the call and grumbled because his cell phone had run out of juice. He wove around another pair of women dressed up in what they thought was Alaska garb, who probably had bought their pricey outfits in some fancy boutique in Beverly Hills. Ridiculous. Thoroughly disgruntled, he hopped into his four-wheel-drive. He pulled his black SUV away from the curb and had to wait for someone in a Porsche—what were people thinking?—to squeeze into a space between a tractor and an ancient pickup, before he could motor away from the madness.

On the outskirts of town, he breathed a pent-up sigh of relief. He hadn’t dealt with traffic congestion since he’d been commuting across Seattle’s Evergreen Bridge twice a day.

His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. By the time he’d turned off the main road from town and headed home, twilight was deepening. He switched the vehicle’s headlights to bright. The beams swept the shadowed, narrow two-lane road, illuminating undergrowth, a long wood fence line and two grazing deer, who fled into the woods.

Something reflected up ahead. He slowed down, a bad feeling settling into his gut. It looked like dark taillights and the back window of a sports car. Not a car he recognized, and he knew everyone who lived on this road. Not one of his neighbors would be foolish enough to own a car they couldn’t drive when the weather turned and the roads muddied up.

Probably another one of those desperate women.

Great. Just what he needed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. Tension seeped back into his muscles. He slowed down, close enough to make out a faded-purple Fiat perched on the narrow shoulder. The hood was up and the car appeared abandoned. A torn sign hung from the back window, bearing a single, bright pink word: Just.

He rolled to a stop and something white moved from behind the raised hood and into the sweep of his high beams. A woman. No, a bride. He dimmed the lights and hopped out of his rig. He noticed the Washington state plates, an expired UW parking permit decal in the window and the bad feeling in his gut turned into an ulcer. Not just another one of those marriage-crazy women who’d come to town, but this one had brought her wedding dress. How enterprising. Looked like she was having a bit of trouble, and not just with the car. He wondered what happened to the “Married” part of the sign, a sign that looked as tattered as she did.

“What are you doing here? This is a private road,” he bellowed.

“Yes, I figured that out as soon as I turned onto it. But is there a place to turn around anywhere? No.” She marched toward him, apparently not at all a shy, retiring sort of woman. He placed her as somewhere in her early to midtwenties. Fury punctuated every word and pounded in her heeled footsteps. “Obviously, I’m having car trouble. Do I look like I want to be here?”

“It’s hard to say, with the dress.”

“Oh, don’t even mention that.” Her eyes flared.

She could be a cute little thing if she wasn’t so angry. Note to self: Don’t let this one too close. It wasn’t often a man got to see what lurked beneath a woman’s guileless face and pretty smile before they said “I do.” What he could already see was a major turn-off. He took a step back, because he didn’t need this kind of a headache. He had enough of his own. “I’ll put a call in and get a tow truck out here.”

“Great. You have a cell phone?”

“Not a working one.”

“You don’t? You’re kidding, right? Mine wouldn’t get reception out here. Stupid phone.” She hiked up her skirt and gave the Fiat’s back tire a hard kick. “Stupid car.”

“Ordinarily, I’d worry about a woman alone at night, but my guess is that you can hold your own against any threat, including a bear.” No doubt a grizzly would take a look at her and run.

“Bears?” The anger drained away. She turned to face him, standing full in the light. Soft golden curls tumbled to her shoulders and framed a face that was both beautiful and unique. Big china-blue eyes dominated her pixie face, with a perfect slope of a nose and a mouth that had to have been sculpted by angels. “Are there really bears here?”

“Yes, but not many would want to take you on.” Maybe he’d better look at her engine first, then figure out what to do with her. “What’s with the car?”

“It started smoking. The temperature thingy has been higher than normal for a while. I think from about Vancouver on.”

“British Columbia?” He grabbed the flashlight he kept behind the seat.

“But a few miles down the road it started creeping into the red zone. There was no place to stop, so I turned in here, thinking there might be a house. But there are only trees.”

“And your husband? Didn’t he have the sense to check the fluids?” Please tell me there is a husband, he thought. “Where is he?”

“No idea.”

Figures. Love and marriage were supposed to mean something, but not to this flighty woman. “Why did you leave him? What was the problem? He wouldn’t do what you wanted? Wouldn’t take you on the honeymoon of your dreams? Give you every little thing you demanded?”

“Not your business.” The anger returned, her soft jawline went rigid and her hands turned into fists that looked ready to punch something. Maybe him. “What about the tow truck?”

“I’m going to have to call from home, but I’m not wild about taking you to my house.”

“Me, either.” She hiked up her chin. “Where’s the closest residence? I was about to grab my things and start walking, but I didn’t know which way to go. I haven’t seen anyone so far on this road.”

“Myron lives up a ways. You’re right. It’s too far to walk. I’ll take you there. Get in.” He didn’t sound happy about it.

That made two of them. She yanked open the Fiat’s door and pain shot through her fingertip. Another broken nail. The third one to break on this impulsive trip. So much for her pre-wedding spa day. What had she been thinking?

She hadn’t been. She’d been driving on pure anger, coffee and heartbreak all the way. She yanked her purse off the seat and followed the mountain man to his SUV. Maybe she should introduce herself. “I’m Karenna Digby.”

“Gage Parker.” He wasn’t a friendly sort, and there was no missing the frown he tossed at her. No doubt he didn’t think much of her.

And why would he? She looked a fright. If only she wasn’t wearing this stupid gown. This dress had been the start of her problems—the catalyst that set everything in motion. The gown she had to have, that had cost three months of her salary, because it had represented everything she’d prayed for as a little girl.

She gathered up her train, climbed into the passenger seat and groaned at the pristine condition of the leather. She sat down, wincing because she wasn’t exactly sure how much dirt, mud and grease was on her skirt. Should she apologize ahead of time? One sideways glance at Gage Parker made her change her mind about saying anything at all. Stoic guy, dark look, scary frown. Best to clean up any grime she left behind after she’d gotten out of the vehicle.

He slammed her door, circled in front of his Jeep and stalked through the headlights like a Sasquatch. He was deep shadows, big brawn and leashed power. Suddenly the shadowy woods seemed enormous and she felt very small. Miniscule, in fact. She’d been so steamed about Alan leaving her at the church, her broken-down car and her emotional decision to drive all the way to Alaska, it hadn’t even occurred to her she was alone with a strange man. Sitting in his SUV. He could be a rapist or a serial killer who lived in a weird cabin, miles from known civilization.

The driver’s door swung open and he angled in behind the wheel. No smile, no reassuring clue to signify he was a decent, respectable, law-abiding, nondangerous man. The dome light winked out, leaving him in shadow, making it easier to think the worst.

Okay, I’m out of my element, alone in the dark. Could You please send me a little sign here, Lord? Just something, so I know I’m all right? She knew the Lord might be busy. There was a world of strife and suffering He was tending to, but she still hoped for a small heavenly hint before the SUV started to roll and it was too late to jump out.

“When you get to Myron’s, be sure you call the hotel so they can hold your room.” The mountain man eased his vehicle around her disabled car and accelerated along the road. Twilit forests and a pair of antlers on a startled-looking deer sped past her window.

“My room?” She bit her lip, not quite wanting to admit the truth to the imposing man. Of course he would assume she had a reservation. Any sensible person would. But had she taken the time? No. She’d been too wound up and upset over Alan’s hastily scrawled note.

“I don’t love you enough to marry you,” he’d written. “You’re just too much to deal with.”

“You have a room, right?” Mr. Imposing glowered at her. The look on his face clearly said he thought she was one of those stupid women who wouldn’t have planned ahead.

Since she’d used that word a lot over the last thirty-eight and a half hours, she couldn’t argue with him. Her mother’s voice blasted in her head like a badly burned CD. “You have no common sense, Karenna. You don’t think things through. Who can blame Alan for chickening out? I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

No place to sleep. Another inadvertent blunder. She should have done an Internet search for Treasure Creek hotels. Now what? She couldn’t look at Mr. Disapproving, so she pulled at a loose thread on her embroidered skirt. “This wasn’t exactly a planned trip. I figured I could find something once I was here.”

“Do you realize half the women in the contiguous United States are in Treasure Creek? At least it seems that way. There can’t be an available hotel room within fifty miles.”

She hadn’t been the only one to read the article. Of course. She hadn’t looked before she leaped. She’d been too busy trying to escape her grief. How could she admit that out loud? She would have to talk about what happened—about her shattered hopes and Alan’s hurtful letter. Better to let this guy think she was a flake in a ruined wedding dress.

She twisted in the seat to take one last look at the shadowed hump of her car on the lonely road. That’s when she noticed something in the man’s backseat. A baby’s car seat. Tension rushed out of her and Gage Parker no longer looked intimidating or questionable. Strong and stoic and grim, maybe, but he was a father. A decent family man. That meant his wife and child were waiting for him at home. No wonder he was put out.

“Without a reservation, you’re probably out of luck,” he growled, wheeling his vehicle off the road and down a bumpy dirt driveway. “Myron might be able to suggest someone who could put you up for the night.”

“You mean stay in someone’s house?”

“Don’t figure there’s any room at the boarding house, either. Which means there are no other options, unless you want to sleep in your car. Maybe you want to try to find that husband of yours? He might have dug up a room somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t want to do that, since I didn’t exactly marry him.”

“Why am I not surprised?” His scowl deepened, emphasizing the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, age lines that placed him somewhere in his midthirties.

Maybe he was feeling sympathy for Alan. Maybe Gage Parker would agree with her mother’s assessment of things. Karenna hung her head, not knowing what else to say.

She didn’t so much care what the mountain man thought of her. She was starting to see his point. This is what happened when you acted out of upset, not calm, rational thought. She had no idea when calm, rational thought was going to kick in. She prayed it would be any second.

A glaze of lights glowed in the shadows up ahead. It was hard to see the surrounding area because of the dense trees, but she caught an impression of a big shed, a woodpile stacked higher than a house and a ramshackle cabin with torn curtains in the windows. The door swung open and a gnarled man’s silhouette was backlit by the light as he put a round into the chamber of the biggest rifle Karenna had ever seen.

“Ho there,” Gage called through the open window, as he stopped the Jeep. “Myron, I need to use your phone.”

“Is that you, Parker?” The man ambled onto a broken-down porch and squinted at the windshield. “Is that the gal you rescued from the cliff?”

“Nah. This is a different one. Her car died out on the road.” He opened the door and hopped to the ground. An old hound dog loped around the side of the house, yowling. Gage paid it no heed. “She needs a tow truck. You wouldn’t mind if she waited with you, right?”

“What? Are you kiddin’?” The old man moved down a few steps and glared harder at her. She could feel his disapproval piercing the tempered glass. “Is that a weddin’ dress she’s wearin’? I don’t want nothin’ to do with that.”

“C’mon, Myron. You know I’ve got my hands full at home.” Gage’s voice was a murmur now, as the two men bent together conspiratorially in the poorly lit front yard. The hound put his paws on the edge of the driver’s seat, sniffed the air and barked at her. No way was she able to hear what was going on.

What she needed was to get out of the vehicle and beg the old man to help her. Although it did look kind of scary out there, so shadowy, with the forest right up next to the buildings. Surely, he was a kind soul who wouldn’t turn away a woman in need? Hadn’t the magazine article said the town was full of noble men and handsome hero types? She opened her door and something big, furry and black lunged at her.

Yikes. A bear! She pulled the door closed with all her might and screamed when something hit the window. Beady green eyes glowed through the glass. Fear exploded through her and she flew out of the seat. The belt yanked tight, holding her in place.

The dog silenced, Gage hopped behind the wheel and slammed the door. “That’s a no go. I can’t believe Myron. He doesn’t like brides, either.”

“B-bear,” she sputtered out, pointing at the window. The beast beat against the glass again, rocking the Jeep.

“That’s Myron’s other dog.” Gage shook his head at her. “You don’t know much, do you?”

That’s exactly what Alan used to say to her. The big black creature loped through the gray twilight—now clearly a mammoth dog—as he joined the grizzled old man on the porch.

She might not know much, but she was learning. Life used to be simple, but it had gone from great to complicated in five seconds flat, and she hadn’t been prepared. Add that to the fact that she was out of her element and she hadn’t slept in nearly two days—and she was a mess. “What now? Are you going to take me back to my car for the night?”

“No.” He sounded unhappy as he wheeled his vehicle around and pointed the headlights down the sorry excuse for a driveway. “You’re coming home with me. But there are going to be rules.”

“Yes, absolutely.” She thought of the wife and child at home, missing him, maybe wondering why he was late. Some women might not be understanding of a husband arriving with a younger woman in tow. “I really appreciate this, Mr. Parker.”

“You’re not to disrupt things. I’ve got a baby in the house. Matthew needs to stay on his schedule.”

“Of course.” Matthew. A little boy. “How old is your son?”

“He’s my nephew. Apparently, my brother decided he had better things to do than raise him, so I’m doing it by default.”

“You and your wife must be extraordinary people, to take in a baby.”

“My wife? That’s a good one.” He shook his head, the SUV accelerating on the dirt lane. They bounced harder until he hit the brakes with an angry punch. The seat belt caught her again, saving her from hitting the dash. “No wife. She had better things to do than stay married to me.”

“I’m sorry.” She could tell the man was hurting. She could make a huge list of all the obvious differences between them, but they had the ravages of failed relationships in common. She felt sorry for him. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”

He glanced at her sideways as he turned off the narrow country road. Surprise carved into his granite features. He really was a handsome man. Dark, thick hair tumbled over a high forehead. His compelling sky-blue eyes and high slash of cheekbones could have belonged to a movie star. The straight blade of his nose didn’t overpower his face, and his mouth and jaw were pure artistry.

If only he didn’t scowl so much.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “I’m off the market for good.”

“Ideas?” She blinked. “You mean marriage?”

“Yes.” He didn’t sound as if he thought she was too bright, either. “That’s another rule. If you want me to help you, you don’t try any funny stuff.”

“Funny stuff?”

“Flirting. And don’t even try to get on my grandmother’s good side.” He sounded angrier and angrier.

She wasn’t exactly impressed. In fact, she was liking him less and less with every passing second. “You live with your grandmother?”

“Remember what I said.” He maneuvered along a tree-lined driveway and gravel crunched beneath the tires. “You leave with the tow truck. Got it?”

“Like I would want to stay.” It wasn’t such a mystery why he was divorced. His plan was sounding like a really good idea. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Mr. Bitter than necessary. She didn’t want his mood or his personality to rub off on her.