Читать книгу Breakaway - Nancy Warren - Страница 13

4

SPRUCE BAY WAS full of self-sufficient people who were proud of their toughness and ability to survive the harsh climate. Max discovered all of this as he strolled the town on foot, getting a feel for his home for the next while.

There were outdoor equipment stores, hunting and fishing shops as well as a Realtor, financial planners, a grocery store and a pharmacy.

He found the local rec center, where, due to the long winter, the main sports were curling, figure skating and hockey.

Needless to say, the ice rink was in perfect condition.

After some asking around, he tracked down the manager of the facility. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Max Varo. New hire at Polar Air.”

“I know who you are,” the guy said. “Heard you took care of Frank Carmondy pretty good the other night.”

Max had no idea whether this was a good or a bad thing in the other man’s opinion. “He was bothering my date,” he said.

The guy nodded. “Time somebody called him on his crap.” He held out his hand. “Ted Lowenbrau. What can I do for you?”

“I need some ice time. I’m practicing for a big tournament. Badges on Ice.”

“I’ve heard of it. We’ve sent a few teams from here over the years. They letting in pilots now? Thought you had to be a cop or a firefighter.”

“The tournament’s for emergency services, you’re right. I’m an ambulance reserve guy. I play on a team with my buddies. We really need to keep up the practicing if we have a hope of winning.” He wondered if he could fly Adam and Dylan up for a few sessions. Depending on his schedule, he might also be able to head south for the odd practice.

“What’s your schedule like? Could I rent the rink for a few hours a week?”

“Be real early in the morning or late at night.”

He nodded. “I’m used to that.”

“Give me your details. We’ll work something out.”

“Thanks.”

Max had already decided that he needed to keep up his workouts even without the Hunter Hurricanes. He figured he’d work out on his own, and if that didn’t do the trick, he’d hire some kids from a local hockey team to practice with him. They’d get free ice time and he’d get to keep up his skills and fitness level. Everyone would be happy.

In the meantime, he started flying for Polar Air, getting to know the rest of the pilots, learning about each of the five aircrafts.

And, as promised, within three days, he had a place to live right on the Polar Air site. The caretaker’s cottage was a small log cabin built of cedar. There was a bedroom, a living area, a kitchen, a bathroom with shower and a porch out front.

It looked as though it had been built in the ’50s and any updating had been minor. However, there was cable and Wi-Fi and the place came furnished. Max knew there were aspects of his own home he was going to miss, like his in-home gym, infrared sauna and top-of-the-line electronics. But he’d never been a man who needed luxury. He suspected he’d do just fine in his little cottage.

When Ted called him at the end of the week, he said, “I’ve got Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10:00 p.m. open. You get the ice for an hour.”

“That’s fantastic. Thanks.”

“There’s one other hockey player who will be on the rink at that time. I figure you can do drills together or skate around each other or something.”

“Yeah. Sure. Sounds good.” He hoped the other guy was as good as he was. Maybe they could work together, spur each other on.

Maybe even have a beer together once in a while.

* * *

MAX FELL INTO A routine over the next few weeks. There were twelve pilots altogether. The planes, a fleet of Beavers and Cessnas, serviced fishing lodges and dropped mail, supplies and parts to mining and logging operations. They also transported hunters and hikers and geologists and photographers and anybody who wanted to fly someplace in Alaska.

Lynette was often on duty at the office. But Claire made sure she was around regularly as well. Max saw how protective she was of her grandmother while trying not to let it show to anyone, least of all to Lynette.

Max was the perfect employee, efficient, respectful, always willing. Claire was wary around him, a little jumpy, he suspected because of the kisses they’d shared and the sizzle that burned the air between them whenever they were together. He wasn’t a man who would ever regret kissing a beautiful woman, but he admitted to himself that having tasted her it was impossible not to want more.

However, he knew the next move would be up to her, so he got on with his job and tried to keep his fantasies about Claire to a respectable minimum.

He liked the work. Enjoyed flying terrain he wasn’t familiar with. Liked the other pilots, though he didn’t want to get too close to them. He knew something they didn’t: that he’d likely own the company they worked for at some point in the near future. He didn’t want to earn their contempt by pretending to be one of them when it was only temporary.

He kept in touch with his assistant daily, but Varo Enterprises was running as smoothly as he’d expected it would.

And he was having fun. He loved turnarounds. Didn’t matter to him that this was a much smaller company than most he’d worked on recently. He liked being on the ground—and in the air—seeing the potential.

What he didn’t like was seeing the crease between Claire’s brows. He suspected she hadn’t known about the mortgage being called until recently. He knew that with the purchase price he had in mind for Polar Air she and her grandmother would be able to pay off the mortgages and still have enough left over for a decent life. But he didn’t want to tell her who he was. Not yet. If he decided not to buy Polar Air he didn’t want her to be disappointed.

So he kept his mouth shut and his eyes open.

He spent some of his downtime getting to know Spruce Bay. It wasn’t a big town and in a lot of ways it had let progress pull out into the fast lane and speed on by, leaving it puttering along contentedly at its own slow pace.

One thing soon became clear. He needed a vehicle if he was going to spend any time at all here. He got a ride into town with Will Runningbear, a younger pilot. “I need to buy a truck, Will. Where do you suggest?”

“You got two choices. Spruce Bay Motors if you want a new vehicle or if you want to get ripped off on a used one. Or you can go to Tough Beans and look at the notice board. Most everything gets posted there.”

“What about Craigslist?”

Will shrugged large shoulders. “You can try.”

So, Max got Will to drop him off at Tough Beans. As promised, there was a big cork notice board offering apartment rentals, jobs, massage therapists, financial planners and guys to clean out your gutters or remove snow. And there was a section where people were advertising goods for sale from property to bowling shoes. There were three trucks on offer. One was fifteen years old and so full of rust he figured it would need to be towed, not driven. The second truck was too new and shiny. Truck number three was a five-year-old F-150. Mileage looked reasonable and the condition was listed as good. He called the number on his cell phone.

Within hours he was the proud owner of a Ford truck. He drove it back to the property and parked behind the small house they’d given him.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING he walked into the office at six-thirty and headed straight for the coffee machine. Claire was already there, sitting behind one of the desks, tapping at a computer. “Morning, Claire.”

“Morning, Max.”

She rose, and walked over to stand beside him. She seemed ill at ease.

“Everything all right?”

“I don’t know. Look, I’m not one to pry into other people’s business but I’m wondering how you managed to pay cash for a truck yesterday. That’s a lot of money on a bush pilot’s salary.”

He cursed himself for a fool. Of course this was a town where gossiping was as common as breathing. He could imagine the speculation going on behind her pretty eyes. Knew he’d be doing the same if their positions were reversed.

He stirred cream into his coffee, added two sugars. Then he leaned back against the counter, took a sip of the brew. “I had some money sitting in an account.” It was true enough. “I came by that money honestly. Don’t worry, I’m not another Frank Carmondy.”

She gazed at him searchingly. “Okay.”

He felt twitchy inside. He didn’t like hiding things from Claire. He didn’t want to mislead a woman he liked, especially one who was suffering because of a crooked employee. He couldn’t raise false hopes though, not until he was sure Polar Air was a sensible acquisition for his company. And the fact that he had a crush on the owner’s granddaughter was not a sound reason to rush into this deal. Not for his management team or for himself.

She turned to go back to her computer but he felt her unease. She deserved to know more. “I’m not a poor man.” He shrugged his shoulders. “In fact, I’m pretty good with money. Okay? My family raised me to be careful. They never had any debt apart from their mortgage, which they paid off as soon as they could by hard work and saving. Those habits are hard to break. In fact, no matter how much money I had, I wouldn’t want to.”

His reward for telling her a little of the truth was seeing her relief. “Your parents sound like my grandparents. They only ever borrowed money for land and equipment. They worked so hard to build this airline.” He saw her hand clench into a fist and knew she was thinking of the man who had stolen so much of that hard-earned wealth. The man who had put the entire company’s future into jeopardy, if Leslie’s sources were to be believed.

Of course, Claire had no idea how much he already knew.

“Is it bad?” he asked gently, wanting her to trust him.

For a second he thought she might blurt it all out. There was a moment of vulnerability on her face and she opened her lips. Then, she must have reconsidered. As he watched emotions flit across her face, he was fairly certain he could tell what she was thinking. He was only a new hire, after all. They’d enjoyed dinner together and some hot, steamy kissing in the old Yukon, but could she really trust him?

She gave a firm shake of her head. “Not too bad. I promise your paycheck won’t bounce.”

A wise man would nod, make a wisecrack and back away. But he couldn’t let it go at that. He thought he understood how much the financial difficulty was hurting her. Since her grandparents and his folks obviously shared a loathing of debt he could only imagine how he’d feel if somebody swindled his mom and dad and he felt helpless to fix it.

He put his two hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. “You can trust me, Claire. That I promise.”

When she looked at him like that he wanted to pull her to him and kiss her, to tell her he was her knight in shining armor, here to save her airline, make sure there was enough money for Lynette to enjoy her retirement in comfort and for Polar Air to continue to operate with its books balanced and its reputation restored.

The moment hovered, he moved a tiny bit closer, she tilted her head in his direction. He could already taste her lips.

The bell on the door jangled, pulling them both sharply back to reality. What was he thinking? He didn’t make business decisions based on a pair of big hazel eyes and the sweetest lips he’d ever kissed. He needed to get a grip.

They both greeted Will, also headed for the coffee machine. Claire gave Max his schedule for the day. He was doing a food-and-supply drop-off for a group of hikers. He understood that she was giving him the least challenging runs until she felt confident that he could handle more.

It was a funny thing to realize he wanted to prove to her that he could handle more.

How long had it been since he’d been forced to prove himself?

Max wondered if he’d grown soft, too accustomed to having people agree with him and suck up to him because of his wealth. He suspected the experience of showing Claire and the rest of the Polar Air team that he was good enough to fly their toughest routes would be good for him.

Whatever ended up happening with Polar Air he knew one thing.

He was no longer bored.