Читать книгу Klondike Hero - Jillian Hart - Страница 9

Gage watched the front door of the two-story log home open in a wash of light. Like a beacon, it drew him and Miss Digby closer. A diminutive woman’s shadow appeared in the doorway, drawing a sweater over her shoulders against the cooling night air. No doubt Gran had caught sight of Miss Digby in the Jeep when he’d pulled up, and she was busy drawing all kinds of wrong conclusions.

So not looking forward to this, he thought, and stepped aside to let the jilted bride go first. Karenna swished ahead of him up the concrete walkway and into the porch light’s reach.

“Goodness! Who do we have here?” Gran practically sang, she sounded so happy. “A wayward traveler you found on the drive home?”

He groaned, bracing himself for the obvious comment yet to come—that his grandmother had prayed for him to find a woman. He was no way interested in the too-young, too-cute, too-emotional Miss Digby. He’d rather hike the entire Chilkoot Trail in his bare feet, from start to finish, than let himself be even the smallest bit interested in the woman. It didn’t take a genius to know why she’d come to town. If one groom didn’t work, then go grab another, right?

He frowned at his grandmother so she knew he wasn’t thrilled by the situation. “She needs to use the phone.”

“Yes, I got lost and then my car died,” the wayward bride explained, as she gathered her skirts and hiked up the steps. Her ragged train swept along behind her. “I’m so sorry to inconvenience you.”

“It’s not a lick of trouble, don’t you worry.” Gran looked pleased as punch as she led the way into the house. “We can get Bucky to take a look at your car. Don’t tell me you were on your way to your wedding?”

“More like running away from the disaster my wedding had become.”

“A runaway bride. How mysterious. Come in, dear. You look as if you could use a hot cup of tea and a plate of my homemade cookies.”

Never should have brought the bride home. Gage kicked his boots off on the porch and slapped himself on the forehead. Too late now. Gran looked as cozy as could be, fussing over the young woman. That was his grandmother. Nurturing to all. She looked bursting with excitement, ecstatic that her prayer had been answered. He’d found not just a woman on the way home, but one in a wedding gown.

He stormed into the foyer with shopping bags in hand, and gave the door a shove. The resulting bang reverberated through the house, surprising even him.

“Gage.” Gran looked up from the archway into the kitchen. She winced when a baby’s crying erupted upstairs. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve woken Matthew.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged out of his coat, mad at himself and wishing he could have a do-over on his day. “Want me to get him?”

“You? What do you know about babies?” Gran shook her head, as if she were sorry he’d turned out the way he had. He didn’t know a thing about infants, it was true. She said something to Karenna before disappearing up the stairwell.

He hung his jacket on a wall hook and realized he was alone in the living room. Where had the Digby woman gone? She’d been here a second ago. He followed the sound of water running to the kitchen. She stood at the sink filling the tea kettle.

Interesting.

He set the shopping bag on the counter. “Making yourself at home?”

“I thought I would help out. I don’t feel right, having your grandmother wait on me.” She spun the few steps to the stove and flipped on a burner.

“Then feel free to help yourself to the phone.” He nodded toward the wall phone hanging near the refrigerator. “The local yellow pages are in the top drawer. There are two listings for tow trucks, but Bucky is the one still in business.”

“Why don’t you like me?” She hitched her chin up a notch, studying him with blue eyes capable of bending unsuspecting men to her will.

“What’s not to like?” He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge and twisted the cap. “As far as I can tell, you ran out on your wedding. What you’re doing here in a wedding dress is anyone’s guess. Why didn’t you change on the way? Or did you think the men here would be rubes, easily tricked into marrying you—so you didn’t bother to change?”

“Believe me, if you are anything like the rest of the men in this town, then I want to sue that magazine for false reporting. You are hardly hunky, marriage-minded or charming.” Okay, maybe she’d gotten carried away. Gage Parker was hunky, but that was about all the good she could say about him.

The baby’s crying grew louder as he grew closer, and she gave the disagreeable mountain man a wide berth as she eased by. Disdain rolled off him in waves.

It didn’t take a genius to guess his story. He’d been so disagreeable, his wife had left him, which had only embittered him more. Sympathy filled her. She knew firsthand how painful that cycle could be. She was a child of divorce. Her parents had battled each other until their bond and their marriage had been nothing but dust and broken promises.

With the way Alan had bailed on her, she could understand the allure of bitterness and blame. She was struggling not to give in to the darker side of her anger. Seeing Gage Parker’s life, living with his grandmother because he’d chased everyone else away, was a good reminder to her. Get the anger out, let go and let God lead her to a better place.

She’d pray for Gage, she decided, glancing over her shoulder. He had made a beeline to the phone and began dialing. No guess as to who he was calling. He did not look happy with her.

“Shhh, little Matthew,” Gage’s grandmother said soothing the baby’s cries in the homey living room. She cradled a blue-wrapped bundle cozily between her neck and her shoulder, one fragile hand caressing small circles against the baby’s back. “It’s all right now. There will be no more scary noises, I can promise you that.”

Karenna caught a glimpse of the baby’s red face and her heart broke at his misery. Poor little guy. She took one look at the older woman, her features hollow with exhaustion. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes. Was she the infant’s sole caretaker? That was a worthy job, but a very demanding one, especially for this frail woman who looked to be struggling with the workload. What was Gage thinking? Determined to help, Karenna bounded through the living room, her own upset and tiredness forgotten.

“Someone’s having a rough night.” She tried to get a better look at the baby. He had a shock of dark hair, and big animated eyes and the cutest button face, scrunched up and tear stained. She placed him around six months old. His hands waved, fisted, with the strength of his sobs. She reached out for the little guy. “Let me take him for you.”

“So you know about babies?” The woman handed over the tyke with smiling approval.

“I worked in a day-care center. A very good one, I’m proud to say, ma’am.” She settled Matthew into the curve of her arm, hurting right along with him. “It’s hard being little, isn’t it? You sound hungry to me. Is that a hungry cry?”

“You can call me Jean, dear. I’ll warm a bottle.” Jean jumped toward the kitchen, eager to help. Easy to see the endless love she had for her great-grandchild.

“I can do it while I’m waiting for the tow truck. After all, you’ve had the day shift. You must be tired.” She gently rocked the child in her arms. “Sit down and relax.”

“What a dear you are, Karenna.” Jean beamed with gratitude. “It has been a wearying day.”

“Then put your feet up. I’ve got this covered.” She shared a smile with the elderly woman before retracing her steps to the kitchen. She began to hum the first tune that popped into her head, “Jesus Loves Me.” Matthew’s crying toned down a notch and his dark blue eyes searched hers. One tiny hiccup and he silenced, gazing up at her intently.

“There now, see? Everything is fine.” She hardly noticed the big surly man standing like a hulk in the center of the kitchen. Easy enough to skirt on by him. She tugged open the fridge. “We’ll get your bottle warm and food in your tummy. Wouldn’t that feel wonderful?”

“This isn’t going to work, you know.” Gage’s frown blasted her like icy wind off a glacier.

“Why? Is there something wrong with the stove?” She transferred a bottle from the refrigerator shelf onto the countertop.

“I’m not talking about the formula. You’re trying to win over my grandmother. I told you I wasn’t going to put up with any manipulation like that.”

“Manipulation?” Confused, she opened a lower cabinet and spied a pan. She snatched it by the handle and stepped around the glowering man. Again. “Sorry. You’re wrong about that. I only want to help.”

“But why?” He took the pan from her and turned on the tap. Water rushed in, and he studied her through his lashes, trying to figure out her angle.

“Because it’s a lot of work to take good care of an infant, something Jean is obviously trying very hard to do. Anyone can see she needs a hand. It’s a lot to juggle all by herself, especially when the baby is down for the night and some man thoughtlessly wakes him up.”

“Okay, I shouldn’t have let the door slam. My fault.” The pan was full, so he walked it over to the stove. “It’s decent of you to lend a hand.”

“Especially since you didn’t seem inclined to do it.” She plunked the bottle into the water and spun the dial. She smelled like roses and springtime, and this close, beneath the bright fluorescent lights, he noticed a tiny blanket of freckles across her nose and the unmistakable signs of exhaustion on her face.

“I don’t know much about babies. That’s why I can’t help.” He turned away, furious at himself. He had no business looking at her long enough to notice anything. She was too young, too pretty, too infuriating and she didn’t belong here.

“You can learn—then you could help.” Her tone had softened. That couldn’t be compassion he heard in her voice, a warm understanding that reached out to him like a balm to his wounds.

He didn’t need it. He didn’t need anyone or anything. “I know. Gran can’t keep doing this all alone. She has health concerns.”

“I wondered.” Gentle, her voice low now, so it wouldn’t carry into the living room. “Look at him. He’s blowing bubbles. You’re a good boy, Matthew. Yes, you are.”

He watched Karenna change before his eyes. Her voice became song and her face took on immeasurable beauty. Loving goodness emanated from her as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. Every fiber of her being seemed focused on Matthew. Amazing. He could be fooled into thinking she was the answer to one of his biggest problems.

The phone rang, drowning out the first notes as her humming turned to singing. He recognized the chorus of “Jesus Loves Me” as he grabbed the receiver. Please let it be Bucky on his way with the tow truck. “Hello?”

“Gage.” Bucky’s easygoing drawl reeled across the line. What a relief. “Got your message. Sorry I won’t be able to make it out your way until tomorrow. I’ve got four other calls lined up before yours, and no way can I work through the night.”

“Four other calls?” He couldn’t have heard right. No, this had to be a bad dream. A nightmare. Maybe he’d only dreamed he’d woken up this morning, went to work taking a raft of city women downriver, answered the search-and-rescue call. If none of it was real, then he would be wake up and Karenna would be gone from his kitchen and his life.

If only.

“It’s all these marriage-minded women. Woo-ee,” Bucky was saying. “It’s a gold rush of a different kind—romance. They say love’s the greatest treasure. I ain’t had this kind of attention since, well, never. I’ll be there when I can, Gage.”

“Bucky. Don’t hang up—” Too late. The call disconnected and dial tone buzzed in his ear. Great. Just what he needed. Maybe he could take a look at the car himself. Maybe it just needed a little water and it could make it to town….

Wishful thinking, and he knew it. He was doomed. Worse, he should have been more like Myron. Recognized the danger of a bride without a wedding ring and kept driving right on by her.

Too bad he wasn’t that kind of man.

“Was that the tow truck guy?” She swept the rumbling tea kettle off the stove with one hand, moving easily, keeping her attention on the baby, completely competent and in her element.

Careful, man. Don’t let your opinion of her change. It was the best weapon he had to keep her at bay. He managed a nod and somehow spoke past the sudden tightness in his throat. “He won’t be able to come until tomorrow morning. I’ll see if I can’t find you a place to stay for the night.”

“That would be decent of you.” She smiled shyly at him—not flirty, not coy, not manipulative. Worry shadowed her, but she looked as if she were trying to hide it.

He took the tea kettle from her and filled the three cups she’d set out, ignoring the sensation of being close to her. If his pulse kicked up a notch, it was probably from the ire of being forced to deal with her.

What did he do about tonight? Chances were slim he could find an available room, but he had to try. He grabbed the phone book, leafed through the pages and squinted at the fine print.

“I made you some chamomile tea.” She slid the mug onto the counter beside him. “Looks like you could use something soothing. I didn’t mean to add to your stress. You look as if you’ve had a rough day.”

“I’m fine,” he bit out, trying to find a reason—any reason—to dislike her more. She didn’t seem dippy at all—or flighty or manipulative—and he wanted her to be. He wished he felt that she was taking advantage of him and trying to play with his feelings.

But no, that was another woman who had been guilty of that. His wife had done a number on him, no doubt about it. He hated to admit he was wrong. Karenna Digby didn’t seem a threat as she moved away with the cup of tea for his grandmother, and left the room with it.

He could hear the lullaby of her voice as she exchanged words with Gran in the living room. He punched in the phone number and waited for it to connect. No room at the inn, he was told, so he punched in the next number. There were only a few hotels in town, plus the boarding house. By the time Karenna had returned to whisk the bottle from the boiling water and test the formula on her wrist, he’d made his last call. Looked like he was stuck with her.

“What a good boy,” Karenna whispered at the crib rail, latching it securely. One look at Matthew asleep in his fluffy blue sleeper made her melt. Such a little doll. She had a soft spot for all babies. It’s what had made her good at her job and what she hoped would make her a good mom one day.

That day was now a lot farther in the future.

She took one last look at the sleeping baby, asked God and His angels to watch over the child and padded into the hallway. She drew the door closed behind her, hoping Gage had found her a place for the night. If not, she always had her car.

“Thanks for helping out.” Gage was sitting in the mostly dark living room. He’d turned all but one lamp off, and he rose, merging with the shadows. “Taking care of the baby is too much for Gran to do alone day in and day out.”

“Isn’t there anyone else to help?”

“No family close by, and I haven’t found a nanny. Don’t think I haven’t tried. Until a few days ago there was a serious scarcity of women in these parts.”

“So I read.” It had seemed eons ago when she’d spotted the little diner north of Bellingham and stopped for coffee. The jury was still out on whether her decision to drive to Alaska had been a good one, but she was hopeful. “Since the hotels are brimming with women, I’m sure you can find someone to hire who won’t mind your surly disposition.”

“Or maybe they are too desperate for marriage to care about my disposition.” A hint of humor warmed his words.

“I suppose that’s what you think I am. Desperate. An opportunist looking for a man.” She spotted her purse on the vanity table behind the sofa and circled around to fetch it. “You think that I heard there were available bachelors and I couldn’t get here fast enough to catch one of them.”

“That’s how it looks.” He moved toward her to stop her from grabbing her purse. “Someone only out for herself and her own gain wouldn’t have waited on Gran, taken care of Matthew, put both of them to bed and then cleaned up the kitchen. And all done with a smile on your face.”

“I like to help people.” She figured there was a lot more she could tell him. How she’d disappointed her upwardly mobile parents, who were a tad on the ruthless side, by choosing to take care of babies instead of pursuing a white-collar profession, which they thought was the only acceptable pathway. How her mother had told her after reading Alan’s letter, “I’m so ashamed of you, Karenna.”

No, best to keep those things to herself. “I figured I owed you, seeing as how you could have left me with Myron and his bear, even if I wasn’t welcome.”

“That dog does look like a bear—and acts like one, too. I couldn’t do that, even to you.” Was that a smile in his voice?

Maybe just a little one, she decided, realizing she was smiling, too. “I hate to impose, but could I borrow a blanket and a pillow?”

“What for?”

“To make my front seat a little more comfortable. I had to buy the fun car instead of being sensible and getting a sedan with a backseat.” She rolled her eyes. “What was I thinking?”

“That you wouldn’t be stuck on a country road in Alaska overnight?”

“Right. I’m mostly a stay-close-to-home kind of girl. What I’m doing here, I have no real idea. Especially since I just figured out you can’t run from what’s hurting you.”

“It comes right along with you. Yep, I learned that the hard way, too.” He felt unusually close as he cleared his throat. “About the car. I think it’s a bad idea.”

“Because of bears?”

“Because it’s not right. I changed the sheets on the bed upstairs while you were in the kitchen. There’s fresh towels in the bathroom and a few of Gran’s things folded on the dresser. Have a good night.”

“But where will you sleep?”

“The couch will suit me fine.” He brushed passed her and reached for the remote. He flipped on the late-night news and hunkered down in a recliner to watch.

“Thank you, Gage.” She thought she felt him smile again as she padded up the stairs, but the mountain man was still too much of a mystery for her to be sure.