Читать книгу Always Valentine's Day - Kristin Hardy - Страница 11

Juneau was possibly the narrowest city Larkin had ever seen, clinging stubbornly to the tiny strip of flat ground that lay between the Gastineau Channel and the high mountains that rose abruptly a few hundred yards inland. What it lacked in width, it tried to make up for in length, stretching out along both sides of the inlet.

Larkin walked down the gangway, buttoning her coat against the chilly air. There must have been other days she’d started the day so cranky, but she couldn’t remember when.

“Flying over glaciers,” Carter said from behind her. “Now there’s something you don’t do every day.”

“Forget about the glaciers. Let the Trasks entertain themselves. We should do the zip line,” Larkin said. “What’s a zip line?”

Strenuous, risky, adrenaline-laced. Just the ticket for the mood she was in. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

“Next time. For now, we’ve got a plane and pilot to ourselves for the day. We’ll see parts of Alaska you can’t get to on foot.”

Impatient to the last, Carter had hired a private plane and pilot. Forget about group excursions, he’d said. They’d see what they wanted to see, when they wanted to see it.

Them, and now their new guests.

Molly Trask stood on the pier beyond the bottom of the gangway, her cheeks pretty and pink with cold. “Good morning,” she called out as they approached.

Great, Larkin thought. Carter’s new crush.

“Ready to walk on a glacier?” Carter asked. Molly shook her head. “I must be out of my mind. I couldn’t walk without help across a solid deck last night. God only knows how I’m going to do it on a sheet of ice.”

“I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Trust me, it won’t be a hardship,” Carter assured her. “Keeping an eye on you will be the easiest day’s work I’ve ever done.”

Molly blinked. “Oh. Well.” The pink that crept over her cheeks had nothing to do with cold. Flustered, she turned to the steep peaks that rose behind city.

“How do you like Alaska?” Carter asked, amused.

“Gorgeous,” she said. “It’s even more beautiful than home, and I never thought I’d say that.”

“Where’s home?” “Vermont.” “Well, how about that? I’m from your neck of the woods.”

“Really? Where?” She pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

He rubbed his chin. “Manhattan.”

“I’m not sure that qualifies as my neck of the woods,” she said, sliding the glasses on.

“Are you kidding? It’s the Northeast. We’re practically neighbors.”

Her lips twitched. “I see. Well, next time you need a cup of sugar, feel free to stop by.”

“I’ll do that. So is anybody else coming?”

“Christopher should be along in just a minute.”

Christopher, Larkin thought, gritting her teeth. Of course.

“What about the rest?” Carter asked.

“Gabriel and Jacob and their families just left to go dogsledding. The kids have been talking about it for weeks. Lainie and J.J. decided to do the zip line.”

“Just what the heck is a zip line, anyway? Larkin’s pushing me to do it.”

Molly patted his arm. “Better not to ask,” she advised.

“Is this something I should know about?”

“Probably best that you don’t.”

He glanced suspiciously at Larkin, who gave him her most innocent look. “It’s a sad day when you find out that you can’t trust your own child.”

“She didn’t say you wouldn’t have fun,” Larkin pointed out.

Carter glanced over to the transportation apron where the excursion buses were lined up, then turned back to Larkin. “There’s supposed to be a van here to take us to the airstrip. We’ll go find it and check in with the driver. You wait for Christopher. We should be down at the far end, past all the buses.” He held out his arm for Molly. “So tell me what you do with yourself all day up in Vermont.”

Larkin watched them walk off and resisted the urge to sigh. If Carter wanted to have a shipboard romance, he would. Being an adult was about learning to release what you couldn’t control, and she couldn’t control Carter any more than she could the tides. If he was set on pursuing Molly Trask, Larkin had no business trying to dissuade him.

Christopher Trask, now, she definitely had business with him.

She’d spent a long, sleepless night being rocked by the motion of the ship while she imagined wreaking detailed vengeance on him. The death by paper cuts scenario had pleased her most. Unfortunately, no matter how furious she was with him, down beneath it all the wanting still thrummed. And it was for that that she cursed him most of all. He’d made her yearn, taken her to surrender, and they both knew it.

And despite it all, she still wanted him.

Where was a voodoo doll when you needed one, Larkin wondered, jamming her hands in her pockets. Even something to throw would make her feel better. Especially if it was at Christopher Trask’s head.

She pulled out her BlackBerry to check messages.

It was a testament to the depth of her hostility that she knew, somehow, when he was approaching. Definitely hostility, for all that it felt like a buzz of anticipation. She turned back toward the Alaskan Voyager.

It was that easy stride that gave him away. He walked with the relaxed, confident self-possession of an athlete. He wore a leather bomber jacket over jeans and a thick cream-colored fisherman’s sweater. A navy-blue watch cap sat atop his head. When he saw her, he gave that killer smile. Larkin found herself responding reflexively before she could remind herself that she hated him.

“Hey,” he said as he stopped before her. “Where’s everybody else?”

“Carter and Molly went to look for the van.” She stood there with her arms crossed before her, shoulders square and stiff. “They told me to wait for you. Lucky me.”

His smile was very wide. “No. Lucky me.”

She was seriously ticked, Christopher thought. Every movement of her body shouted it. Fair enough. He’d been pretty ticked off himself. The clash of wills had drawn blood—and heated it—on both sides. The question was, what happened next?

She stood in her long black coat and jeans, along with one of those round white fur hats that made her look like some expatriate czarina. Silver teardrops swung at her ears. The wind tossed around the honey-gold strands of her hair and brought out a flush of cold in her cheeks. And maybe the sparkle in her eyes was at the thought of telling him to go to the devil, but he’d take it as long as she kept looking like that.

Anyway, he was betting he could talk her out of being mad.

“So this is Juneau, huh?”

“Feel free to stick around and explore,” she said. “We’ll just head on out to the airfield.”

“No way, we’ve got glaciers to see. Where’s the bus?”

“Down near the end, Carter said.” She started walking without looking to see that he followed. He saw her smother a yawn.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

She shot him a venomous look. “Never better. And you?”

“I kind of liked it.” Even if it had taken him a couple of hours to drift off. “Sort of like sleeping in a hammock, with all that swaying. And then I wake up and there’s someone knocking on the door and bringing me coffee. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“I’m sure if you went back to your cabin right now, someone would bring you coffee again. Why don’t you go on board and find out?”

“I’d say nice try, but that wasn’t even a very good one. What are you pissed off about,” he added, “that I kissed you last night or that you liked it?”

“Does the caveman routine usually work for you?” she asked pleasantly.

“It’s not my usual MO, but I figured you deserved something special.”

“Pardon me for not appreciating it.”

“You wanted a demonstration. I figured the least I could do was oblige.” And it hadn’t been a hardship he thought, watching her now and remembering the scent of her skin. Walking away when she’d been heated and avid against him had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. And she remembered it, too. He saw those green eyes darken before she shook her head and turned away.

“I don’t know why I’m even bothering talking to you,” she muttered.

“Because it’s a gorgeous morning. We’re in an incredible place. You’re too smart to spend the day pouting.”

“I don’t pout,” she returned in outrage.

“My mistake,” he said. “Isn’t that the van?” He pointed toward the minibus where Carter and Molly waited, already inside.

At the airstrip, they pulled up to an unprepossessing vinyl-sided building with a green sign that said Taku Glacier Excursions. As soon as the minibus doors opened, a staffer who looked like she was fourteen—if she was lucky—stepped on board. “Hi, everyone,” she said as they rose. “I’m Amy.”

Carter rose. “I’m Carter Hayes, the one who rented the plane. We’ve brought along a couple more people than we were planning, but it shouldn’t be an issue. There’s room.”

“Actually,” she shifted uncomfortably, “we’ve sort of got a problem.”

“We?” Carter repeated. “What kind of problem do we have?”

“Uh, the plane’s not here.”

Carter’s brows lowered a fraction. “I had my assistant pay for it a month ago. What do you mean it’s not here?”

The girl coughed. “A couple of climbers got lost on Denali. There’s a big search under way, and the, uh, plane that was supposed to take you to the glaciers is part of it. We’ve got a substitute, though,” she rushed to add. “A local ’copter pilot, Buck Matthews, is going to take you up.”

Buck Matthews, Larkin thought, looking out on the pads where the helicopters crouched like metal and Plexiglas dragonflies. Perfect. “Dad, maybe we ought to skip it.”

“I think you’ll really like the helicopter,” Amy told her. “It’s better than the plane because you can hover over anything you want to see. And Buck’s been flying for years. He really knows the area. Oh—” she paused “—you don’t have any problems with animals, right?” Puzzled, they shook their heads and Amy exhaled in relief. “Great, let’s get you into some glacier boots, and then you can follow me out to the helicopter pad.”

The boots were black and puffy and slipped over their regular shoes. Larkin sensed rather than heard Christopher sit on the bench beside her as she strapped hers on.

“It’s a good look for you,” he said. “Very stylish.”

She scowled at him and rose to follow Amy out to the helicopter pad.

“It kind of gives you that astronaut experience, doesn’t it?” Christopher asked. When she didn’t answer, he leaned in. “You’re going to have to break down and talk to me sometime.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, and cursed herself the minute the words were out of her mouth.

His grin flashed. “Like I said.” He winked as he walked past her.

The closer they got to the helicopter, the more uneasy Larkin became. She’d been expecting a nice twin-engine Cessna with individual seats. Instead, they had a helicopter that looked like it had been borrowed from a TV traffic report team in Anchorage.

Assuming Anchorage had anything remotely resembling traffic.

The aircraft sat on the pad, doors open. A stocky, bearded man stood beside it, looking large enough to fill it entirely himself. Little backward opening doors on either side gave access to a backseat barely worthy of the name. On the grass strip that ran between the tarmac and the landing pad, a gray brown mutt nosed around, which pretty much said all she needed to know about the professionalism of the operation.

“This is Buck,” Amy said.

“Y’all ready to fly?” He nodded at the helicopter.

“In there?” Larkin asked faintly. “Are you sure we’re all going to fit?” The backseat looked barely wide enough to accommodate two people, let alone three.

He winked. “You’ll get to know each other up close and personal.”

Larkin glanced over to see Carter and Molly.

And Christopher.

Up close and personal.

“Molly, do you want the front seat?” Carter asked.

“Nope.” Buck shook his head. “That’s where Scout rides.” He whistled, and the dog—more of a hound, really—came loping over, tongue out and a big doggy grin on his face.

“No.” Stubbornness glimmered in Carter’s eyes. “The front seat is for one of us. The dog stays here.”

“Nope,” Buck said genially. “Scout always flies with me. If you want to go, he goes, up front. Unless you want him in the backseat with all of you,” he added.

Molly laughed and bent over to rub Scout’s ears. “I don’t mind giving him the front seat. A flight over the glaciers with a big old dog, now that’s an adventure,” she said. “Look at this harness you’ve got, boy. You’re all dressed up and ready to go.”

Amy gave a pained smile. “Buck is helping us out here, sir. It’s the only way we can get you up to the glaciers.”

“We’re here,” Christopher said. “I’d say give it a try.”

“If you’re not completely happy with the excursion,” Amy added, “we’ll refund your money.”

“We’ll see,” Carter grumbled, but he was watching Molly make friends with Scout, who seemed very close to being in love.

Larkin only wished she was feeling so good about it. “I’ll stay here. All four of us can’t possibly squeeze into that backseat. There’s no room.”

Buck looked them over. “Sure there is. None of you’s too wide. It’ll just be cozy. Hop in.”

Cozy. Exactly what Larkin wanted. She heard a smothered laugh and glanced over to see Christopher watching her.

“I’ll take the inside seat. You have the window,” Carter told Molly.

“Of course not. You were the one who paid for the trip. You should sit by the window.”

“I’m taller than you are,” he argued. “You sit on the inside, you won’t see a thing. Take the window.”

Molly folded her arms. “Only if you take it on the way back.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Get used to it,” she returned.

He considered. “I guess I’ll have to.”

Christopher glanced over at Larkin. “I’ll give you the window seat, too,” he told her. “Just to show you chivalry’s alive and well in Alaska.”

“Gee, I’m so relieved.” She watched him fold his long body into the small space and looked at the postage-stamp patch of seat that remained. Right next to the door.

“Need a hand?” Christopher asked.

“I can do it myself.” Reluctantly, she raised a clunky boot to the threshold of the cabin, hoisting herself in and settling back into the alarmingly small space. There was no way to do it halfway. Even staying as close to the edge as she could, she was still unable to keep from touching Christopher.

“All right, over all the way,” Buck ordered. “I gotta shut the door.”

She wasn’t about to look at Christopher and see the humor that she knew would be dancing in his eyes. Instead, she stared studiously ahead and shifted over. Then the little back door slammed and latched with a clunk, leaving her wedged in place.

It was impossible to shut out the awareness of his body. They were practically welded together from ankle to shoulder. It didn’t matter that there were layers of clothing between them. What she felt most of all was strength. He might have looked rangy, almost lanky at a glance, but with her body glued up against his, Larkin could feel that he was solid with muscle.

Buck hoisted himself into his seat and whistled. “Scout, load up.” Scout hopped up into the helicopter, panting as Buck snapped a pair of chains onto his harness. The pilot put on a bright yellow headset and busied himself for a few moments, checking dials and flicking switches.

He turned to them. “Each of you grab a set of those headphones hanging above you. Once I start the engine, you won’t be able to hear a thing unless you got ’em on. It’s two-way, so holler if you got a question or want to get a better look at anything.” There was a click and the rotors started turning. “Okay, guys, we’re ready to go.”

Larkin tensed.

Christopher turned to hand her a headset, then gave her a double take. Frowning, he leaned in close as the whine of the motor grew to a roar. “You okay?”

She nodded and tried for a careless smile as the helicopter began to shudder, but it felt more like a grimace.

Because Larkin had a secret. A seasoned traveler she might have been, but she’d never ridden in a helicopter. Jets, yes, Gulfstreams, of course. Even the odd Cessna, they were all fine.

Helicopters scared her silly.

Everybody else seemed totally confident about the ride. As far she was concerned, they were crazy. Something about a helicopter seemed a bit too improbable to really work. After all, straight wings were everywhere you looked in nature—birds, dragonflies, even mosquitoes.

She couldn’t think of a single critter that had blades whirling around over its head.

The sound of the motor changed. Larkin stared out the window, feeling panic clog her throat.

Suddenly her fingers were caught up in a strong grip. She looked down to see Christopher’s hand clasping hers and glanced up to see him wink.

“We’ll be fine,” he mouthed at her over the din.

“Okay, folks,” Buck said. “Here we go.”

And with a bounce, they lifted off into the air.

She’d endure the flight, Larkin told herself grimly, even if she wound up sweat soaked and emotionally exhausted by the end. But as Juneau fell away and the helicopter rose over the ridgeline that ran behind it, an almost giddy magic took hold of her.

She’d had no idea it would be like this. They were surrounded by Plexiglas, but it felt more like really flying, soaring over a snow-covered landscape like a bird. Then ahead of them rose a ridge higher than the rest. And Buck aimed directly for it.

Larkin’s heart pounded a little bit, equal parts excitement and nerves. Her grip on Christopher’s hand tightened, and she felt him squeeze back. It seemed simply too high for the helicopter to get over, as though they would hook a skid and go tumbling down the mountainside. But instead, with an almost insouciant flick of the control stick, Buck sent them up and over.

And she caught her breath.

The glacier unfurled below them, a long sweep of gray-white snaking between ridgelines, looking almost incongruously smooth amid the rugged landscape. “That’s the Taku glacier below us,” Buck said. “It’s the only one you’ll see today that’s still growing. All the others are receding.”

He sent the aircraft tilting a little bit, edging in toward the ground.

“Oh, look.” The words just burst out of her. One minute, they were flying over the striated, dirty gray snow of the glacier. The next, she was staring down into a long crevasse at the most intense, most luminous blue she had ever seen. Impossible to believe such a gorgeous, glowing color existed. She couldn’t stop looking at it, turning to glance back as they flew past.

“Can you take us by that again?” someone asked, echoing the words in her head. It was Christopher, she realized.

Larkin glanced over at him quickly to see him watching her, not the glacier. Something flipped in her stomach, something she didn’t think had anything at all to do with the motion of the helicopter. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

“There’s your crevasse.” Christopher pointed beyond her. It released her from the spell, and she turned, gulping air. It was just the close confines of the cabin, she told herself. Too many people, not enough air, all of it making her light-headed. That was all.

She stared down at the glacier, amazed at how clearly she could see it. The surface, she realized belatedly, was coming closer. They were dropping, lower and lower still, until, soft as thistledown, the helicopter settled onto the ice.