Читать книгу Fool's Gold Collection Part 2: Only Mine / Only Yours / Only His / Only Us: A Fool's Gold Holiday - Сьюзен Мэллери, Susan Mallery - Страница 9

FINN TOLD HIMSELF that yelling wasn’t going to accomplish anything. His brothers were technically adults, although it wouldn’t be hard to make a case that, over eighteen or not, they were idiots.

He stepped into the tiny motel room, crammed with two full-size beds, a dresser, battered television and the door to an equally small bathroom.

“Nice,” he said, glancing around. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Sasha rolled his eyes as he sank back on his bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Coming after you.”

The twins exchanged a look of surprise.

Finn shook his head. “Did you really think an email telling me you’d left college to come here was enough? That I would simply say, ‘No problem. Have fun. Who cares if you abandon college in your last semester?’”

“We said we were fine,” Sasha reminded him.

“Yes, you did and I do appreciate it.”

As there weren’t all that many motels in Fool’s Gold, locating the twins had been relatively easy. Finn knew that money would be tight, which had eliminated all the nice places. The motel manager had recognized them immediately and hadn’t minded giving Finn their room number.

Stephen watched him warily but didn’t speak. He’d always been the quieter of the twins. Despite the fact that they looked nearly exactly alike, they had different personalities. Sasha was outgoing, impulsive and easily distracted. Stephen was more silent and usually considered his actions. Finn could understand Sasha taking off for California, but Stephen?

Stay calm, he reminded himself. Having a conversation would get him further than shouting. But when he opened his mouth, he found himself yelling from the very first word.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, slamming the door shut behind him and planting both hands on his hips. “You had one semester left of college. Just one. You could have finished your classes and graduated. Then you would each have had a degree. Something no one could take away from you. But did you think of that? Of course not. Instead you took off, quitting before you were finished. And for what? Some chance to be in a ridiculous show?”

The twins looked at each other. Sasha sat up and sucked in a breath. “The show isn’t ridiculous. Not to us.”

“Because you’re both professionals? You know what you’re doing?” He glared at them both. “I want to lock you in this damn room until you figure out how stupid you’re being.”

Stephen nodded slowly. “That would be why we didn’t tell you until after we were here, Finn. We didn’t want to hurt you or scare you, but you’re holding on too tight.”

Words Finn didn’t want to hear. “Why couldn’t you finish college? That’s all I wanted. Just to get you through college.”

“Would it really end there?” Sasha asked him, coming to his feet. “You said that before. That all we had to do was finish high school and you’d get off our butts. But you didn’t. There you were, pushing for college, staying on us about our grades, our classes.”

Finn felt his temper rising. “How is that wrong? Is it bad that I want you to have a good life?”

“You want us to have your life,” Sasha said, glaring at him. “We appreciate all you’ve done. We care about you, but we can’t do what you want anymore.”

“You’re twenty-one. You’re kids.”

“We’re not,” Stephen said, sitting up. “You keep saying that.”

“Maybe my attitude has something to do with your actions.”

“Or maybe it’s just you,” Stephen told him. “You’ve never trusted us. Never given us a chance to prove what we could do on our own.”

Finn wanted to put his fist through a wall. “Maybe because I knew you’d pull something like this. What were you thinking?”

“We need to make our own decisions,” Stephen said stubbornly.

“Not when they’re this bad.”

Finn could feel control of the conversation slipping from him. The sensation got worse when the twins exchanged a look. One that said they were communicating silently, in a way he’d never understood.

“You can’t make us go back,” Stephen said quietly. “We’re staying. We’re going to get on the show.”

“And then what?” Finn asked, dropping his hands to his sides.

“I’m going to Hollywood to be on television and in the movies,” Sasha told him.

Hardly news, Finn thought. Sasha had been starstruck for years.

“What about you?” Finn asked Stephen. “Want to become a spokesmodel?”

“No.”

“Then come home.”

“We’re not going back,” Stephen told him, sounding strangely determined and mature. “Let it go, Finn. You’ve done all you needed to. We’re ready to be on our own.”

They weren’t. That’s what killed Finn. They were too young, too determined to screw up. If he wasn’t nearby, how could he keep them safe? He would do anything to protect them. Briefly he wondered if he could physically wrestle them into submission. But then what? He couldn’t keep them tied up for the entire trip back. The thought of kidnapping wasn’t pleasant, and he had a vague notion that he would be flirting with felony charges the second he crossed state lines.

Besides, getting them back to Alaska wouldn’t accomplish anything if they weren’t willing to stay and finish school.

“Can’t you do this in June?” he asked. “After you graduate?”

The twins shook their heads.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Stephen told him. “We really do appreciate all you’ve done. It’s time to let go. We’re going to be fine.”

Like hell they were. They were kids playing at being adults. They thought they knew it all. They thought the world was fair and life was easy. All he wanted was to protect them from themselves. Why did that have to be so hard?

There had to be another way, he thought as he stalked out of the small motel room and slammed the door behind him. Someone he could reason with. Or, at the very least, threaten.

“GEOFF SPIELBERG, no relation,” the long-haired, scruffy-looking man said as Finn approached. “You’re from the city, right? About the extra power. Lights are like ex-wives. They’ll suck you dry if you let them. We need the power.”

Finn studied the skinny guy in front of him. Geoff “with a G” was barely thirty, wore a T-shirt that should have been tossed two years ago and jeans with enough rips to make a stripper nervous. Not exactly Finn’s mental image of a television executive.

They stood in the middle of the town square, surrounded by cords and cables. Lights had been set up on stands and strung up on trees. Small trailers lined the street. Two trucks carried enough Porta-Potties for a state fair, and tables and chairs were set up by a tent with a buffet line.

“You’re producing the show?” he asked.

“Yes. What does that have to do with my power? Can I get it today? I need it today.”

“I’m not from the city.”

Geoff groaned. “Then go away and stop bothering me.”

Even as he spoke, the producer was heading toward a trailer parked on the street, his attention on the smart-phone in his hand.

Finn kept pace with him. “I want to talk about my brothers. They’re trying to get on the show.”

“We’ve made our casting decisions. Everything will be announced tomorrow. I’m sure your brothers are great and if they don’t make it on this show, they’ll find another.” He sounded bored, as if he’d said those same words a thousand times.

“I don’t want them on the show,” Finn said.

Geoff looked up from his phone. “What? Everybody wants to be on TV.”

“Not me. And not them.”

“Then why did they audition?”

“They want to be on the show,” he clarified. “I don’t want them to be.”

Geoff’s expression shifted to disinterest again. “Are they over eighteen?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s not my problem. Sorry.” He reached for the handle of the trailer door.

Finn got there first and blocked his way.

“I don’t want them on the show,” he repeated.

Geoff sighed audibly. “What are their names?”

Finn told him.

Geoff flipped through files on his phone, then shook his head. “You’re kidding, right? The twins? They’re going to make it. The only way they’d be better for our ratings is if they were girls with big boobs. Viewers are gonna love them.”

Not a surprise, Finn thought. Disappointing, but not a surprise. “Tell me what I can do to change your mind. I’ll pay you.”

Geoff laughed. “Not enough. Look, I’m sorry you’re not happy, but you’ll get over it. Besides, they could be famous. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“They should be back in school.”

Geoff’s attention had been captured by his phone again. “Uh-huh,” he murmured as he scrolled through an email. “Right. You can make an appointment with my secretary.”

“Or I could convince you right here. You like walking, Geoff? Want to keep being able to do that?”

Geoff barely glanced at him. “I’m sure you could take me. But my lawyers are a whole lot tougher than your muscles. You won’t like jail.”

“You won’t like a hospital bed.”

Geoff looked at him then. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look serious? We’re talking about my brothers. I’m not going to let them screw up their lives now because of your show.”

Finn didn’t enjoy making threats, but nothing was more important than making sure Sasha and Stephen finished their degrees. He would do what he had to. If that meant physically crushing Geoff, then he would do it.

Geoff shoved his phone in his pocket. “Look, I appreciate your position, but you have to see mine. They’re already on the show. I have nearly forty people working for me here, and I have a contract with every one of them. I’m responsible to them and to my boss. This is a lot of money.”

“I don’t care about the money.”

“You wouldn’t, mountain man,” Geoff grumbled. “They’re adults. They can do what they want. You can’t stop them from doing this. Say I kick them off the show. Then what? They head to L.A.? At least while they’re here, you know where they are and what they’re doing, right?”

Finn didn’t like the logic, but he appreciated it. “Maybe.”

Geoff nodded several times. “You see what I’m saying. Better they’re here, where you can keep an eye on them.”

“I don’t live here.”

“Where do you live?”

“Alaska.”

Geoff’s nose wrinkled, as if he’d just smelled dog excrement. “You fish or something?”

“I fly planes.”

The scruffy producer brightened immediately. “Planes that hold people? Real planes?”

“As opposed to those that are remote controlled? Yes.”

“Sweet. I need a pilot. We’re already planning a trip to Vegas and we’re flying commercial to keep costs down. But there are other places, maybe Tahoe and Frisco. If I rented a plane, you could fly it, right?”

“Maybe.”

“It would give you a reason to stick around and watch your kids.”

“Brothers.”

“Whatever. You’ll be part of the production staff.” Geoff placed his hand on his chest. “I have family. I know what it’s like to care about someone.”

Finn doubted Geoff cared about anything or any one but Geoff. “I would be there while you were filming?”

“As long as you didn’t get in the way or cause trouble. Sure. We’ve got some chick from the city hanging around already.” He shrugged. “Denny, Darlene. Something.”

“Dakota,” Finn said dryly.

“Right. Her. Stick with her. She’s gotta make sure we don’t hurt her precious town.” Geoff rolled his eyes. “I swear, my next gig is going to be filming in the wilderness. Bears don’t have demands, you know? That’s a whole lot easier than this. So what do you say?”

What Finn wanted to say was no. He didn’t want to hang around while they filmed their reality show. He wanted his brothers back in college, and he wanted to return to South Salmon and get on with his life.

Standing between him and that was the fact that his brothers weren’t going to go home until this was over. His choices were to agree or walk away. If he walked away, how could he make sure Geoff and everyone else didn’t screw them?

“I’ll stay,” he said. “Fly you where you need to go.”

“Good. Talk to that Dakota chick. She’ll take care of you.”

Finn wondered how she would feel about him hanging around.

“Maybe the twins will be voted off early,” Geoff said, opening the trailer door and stepping inside.

“My luck’s not that good.”

DAKOTA WALKED to her mother’s house. The morning was still cool, with a bright blue sky and the mountains to the east. Spring had come right on time, so all the trees were thick with leaves, and daffodils, crocuses and tulips lined nearly every walkway. Although it was before ten, there were plenty of people out on the sidewalks, residents as well as tourists. Fool’s Gold was the kind of place where it was easier to walk to where you were going. The sidewalks were wide, and pedestrians always had the right of way.

She turned onto the street where she’d grown up. Her parents had bought the place shortly after they’d married. All six of their children had grown up here. Dakota had shared a room with her two sisters, the three of them preferring to live in the one bedroom through high school, even after their older brothers had moved out.

The windows had been replaced a couple of years ago, the roof a few years before that. The paint color was cream instead of green, the trees taller, but little else had changed. Even with all six kids out on their own, Denise still kept the house.

She walked around to the backyard. Her mother had said she would be spending much of the week working on the garden.

Sure enough, when she opened the gate, she found Denise Hendrix kneeling on a thick, yellow pad, digging vigorously. There were tattered remains of unworthy plants scattered on the grass by the flower beds. Her mother wore jeans, a Tinkerbell hoodie over a pink T-shirt and a big straw hat.

“Hi, Mom.”

Denise looked up and smiled. “Hi, honey. Was I expecting you?”

“No. I just stopped by.”

“Good.” Her mom stood and stretched. “I don’t get it. I cleaned up the garden last fall. Why do I have to clean it again in the spring? What exactly are my plants doing all winter? How can everything get so messy, so quickly?”

Dakota crossed to her mother and hugged her, then kissed her cheek. “You’re talking to the wrong person. I don’t do the garden thing.”

“None of you do. I obviously failed as a parent.” She sighed theatrically.

Denise had been a young bride to Ralph Hendrix. Theirs had been a case of love at first sight, followed by a very quick wedding. She’d had three boys in five years, followed by triplet girls. Dakota remembered a crowded house with plenty of laughter. They’d always been close, drawn more so by the death of their father nearly eleven years before.

Ralph’s unexpected passing had crushed Denise but not destroyed her. She’d pulled herself together—most likely for the sake of her children—and gone on with her life. She was pretty, vibrant and could pass for a woman in her early forties.

Now she led the way through the backdoor, into the kitchen. It had been remodeled a few years ago, but no matter how it looked, the bright open space was always the center of the home. Denise was nothing if not traditional.

“Maybe you should get a gardener,” Dakota said as she collected two glasses from the cupboard.

While her mother pulled out a pitcher of iced tea, Dakota filled the glasses with ice cubes, then checked the cookie jar. The smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies drifted to her. She tucked the ceramic ladybug container under one arm and made her way to the kitchen table.

“I would never trust a gardener,” Denise said, sitting across from her daughter. “I should plow the whole thing under and pour cement. That would be easy.”

“You’ve never been into easy. You love your flowers.”

“Most days.” She poured iced tea. “How’s the show going?”

“They announce the contestants tomorrow.”

Humor brightened her mother’s dark eyes. “Will we see you on the list?”

“Hardly. I wouldn’t have anything to do with them if Mayor Marsha hadn’t guilted me into agreeing.”

“We all have a civic responsibility.”

“I know. That’s why I’m doing the right thing. Couldn’t you have raised us not to care about others? That would have been better for me.”

“It’s ten weeks, Dakota. You’ll live.”

“Maybe, but I won’t like it.”

Her mother’s mouth twitched. “Ah, that maturity that always makes me so proud.”

The teasing was good, Dakota thought. Things were about to get a lot more serious.

She’d put off this conversation for several months now, but knew it was time to come clean. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep things a secret, it’s that she knew the truth would hurt her mother. And Denise had already been through enough.

Dakota took a cookie and put it on a napkin in front of her but didn’t taste it. “Mom, I have to tell you something.”

Nothing about Denise’s expression changed, yet Dakota felt her stiffen. “What?”

“I’m not sick or dying or going to be arrested.”

Dakota drew in a breath. She studied the placement of the chocolate chips, the rough edges of the cookie, because it was easier than looking at the one person who loved her best.

“You know at Christmas I talked about wanting to adopt?”

Her mother sighed. “Yes, and while I think it’s wonderful, it’s a little premature. How do you know you won’t find a wonderful man and get married and want to have kids the old-fashioned way?”

Material they’d been over a dozen times before, Dakota thought, knowing she only had herself to blame. Regardless of her mother’s opinion, she’d gone ahead with the paperwork and had already been vetted by the agency she’d chosen.

“You know my period has always been difficult for me,” she began. While her sisters sailed through “that time of the month,” Dakota had suffered from a lot of pain.

“Yes. We went to the doctor a few times about it.”

Their family doctor had always said everything was fine. He’d been wrong.

“Last fall things seemed to get worse. I went to my gynecologist and she did some testing.” Dakota finally raised her gaze and looked at her mother. “I have a form of polycystic ovarian syndrome and pelvic endometriosis.”

“What? I know what endometriosis is, but the other?” Her mother sounded worried.

Dakota smiled. “Don’t panic. It’s not all that scary or contagious. PCOS is a hormone imbalance. I’m handling it by keeping my weight down and exercising. I take a few hormones. On its own it can make getting pregnant really difficult.”

Denise frowned. “All right,” she said slowly. “And the pelvic endometriosis? That means what? Cysts or growths?”

“Something like that. Dr. Galloway was surprised I had both, but it can happen. She cleaned things up so I don’t have the pain anymore.”

Her mother leaned toward her. “What are you saying? Did you have an operation? Were you in the hospital?”

“No. It was a simple outpatient thing. I was fine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because that was the least of it.”

Dakota swallowed. She’d been so careful not to let anyone know. She hadn’t wanted to have to listen to sympathy, to hear people say it would be fine when she’d known it wouldn’t be. She’d been in a place where words would only make things worse.

But weeks, then months, had passed and the old cliché about time healing all wounds was nearly true. She wasn’t healed, but she could finally say the truth aloud. She should know—she’d been practicing in her small rented house for days now.

She forced herself to look into her mother’s concerned, dark eyes. “The PCOS is under control. I’m going to live a long, healthy life. Either condition makes it more difficult to get pregnant. Having both of them means it’s pretty unlikely I can get pregnant the old-fashioned way, as you said. Dr. Galloway says it’s about a one-in-one-hundred shot.”

Denise’s mouth trembled and tears pooled in her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “Oh, honey, no.”

Dakota had half expected recriminations. A cry of “Why didn’t you tell me?” Instead her mother stood, then pulled her to her feet and held on as if she would never let go.

The warmth of the familiar embrace touched Dakota’s cold, dark places. Those buried so deep, she hadn’t even known they were there.

“I’m sorry,” her mother told her, kissing her cheek. “You said you found out last fall?”

Dakota nodded.

“Your sisters mentioned something had upset you. We thought it was a man, but it was this, wasn’t it?

Dakota nodded again. She’d gone into work after finding out what was wrong and had started sobbing in front of her boss. While she’d never told him the cause, her grief hadn’t exactly been subtle.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you kept it to yourself,” her mother told her. “You were always the one to think things through before talking to anyone.”

They sat back at the table.

“I wish I could fix this,” Denise admitted. “I wish I’d done more when you first had these problems as a teenager. I feel so guilty.”

“Don’t,” Dakota told her. “It’s just one of those things.”

Denise drew in a breath. Dakota could see the determination returning to her mother’s eyes.

“Regardless,” Denise said firmly, “you’re healthy and strong and you’ll get through this. As you said, there are things that can be done. When you get married, you and your husband can decide what you want to do.” She paused. “This is why you’re adopting. You want to be sure you have children.”

“Yes. When I found all this out, I felt broken inside.”

“You’re not broken.”

“I know that in my head, but in my heart I’m not so sure. What if I never get married?”

“You will.”

“Mom, I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ve never been in love. Isn’t that weird?”

“You’ve been busy. You had your doctorate before you were twenty-five. That took tremendous effort.”

“I know, but…” She’d always wanted a man in her life. She just couldn’t seem to find him. At this point, she wasn’t even searching for Mr. Right. A reasonably decent guy who didn’t run screaming into the night at the sight of her would be pretty darned fabulous.

“I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m perfectly capable of being a single mom. It’s not like I’ll be alone—not in this town, or with my family.”

“No, you wouldn’t be alone, but having children will make it difficult to find the right man.”

“If I meet someone who can’t accept all of me, including an adopted child, then he’s not the guy for me.”

Denise smiled. “I raised such wonderful children.”

Dakota laughed. “Because it’s all about you.”

“Sometimes.” She leaned forward. “All right, adoption it is. Have you started looking? Can I help?”

Emotions swelled inside of Dakota—the most powerful was gratitude. No matter what, she could always depend on her mom.

“I couldn’t go through it without you. Adopting as a single parent isn’t easy. I researched international adoptions and applied with an agency that works exclusively in Kazakhstan.”

“I don’t even know where that is.”

“Kazakhstan is the ninth largest country in the world and the largest country that is completely landlocked.” Dakota shrugged. “I did research.”

“I can tell.”

“Russia is to the north, China to the southeast. The agency was very open and encouraging about the adoption. I filled out the paperwork and prepared to wait.”

Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “You’re getting a child.”

Dakota winced. “No. In late January, after I’d finished the paperwork and had the home and background checks, they called and said they had a little boy for me. But the next day they called back and said there’s been a mistake. He was going to another family. A couple.”

She drew in a breath to keep from crying. At some point the body should just run out of tears, but she had enough personal experience to know that didn’t happen.

“I’m not clear if it was an honest mistake or if they prefer couples and that’s why I didn’t get him. I’m still on the waiting list and the director of the agency swears it’s going to happen.”

Her mother leaned back in her chair. “I can’t believe you’ve been through all this on your own.”

“I couldn’t talk about it,” Dakota said quickly. “Not with anyone. At first I felt too frail to discuss it at all. Then I was afraid I’d jinx the adoption. It wasn’t you, Mom.”

“How could it be?” Denise asked. “I’m practically perfect. But still.”

For the second time, Dakota laughed. It felt good to find humor in life again. She’d had a few months where nothing had been happy or right.

Dakota touched her arm. “I’m dealing. Most days it’s okay. Sometimes it’s hard to get out of bed. Maybe if I’d been in a relationship, I wouldn’t have felt so unlovable.”

“You’re not unlovable. You’re beautiful and smart and fun to be with. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“That’s what I tell myself. Apparently the entire gender is blind and stupid.”

“They are. You’ll find someone.”

“I’m not so sure. I can’t blame my lack of love life on the man shortage here. Not entirely. I didn’t date when I was away at college, either.” She shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone, Mom. I’ll talk to Nevada and Montana in a few days. If you wouldn’t mind, I thought you could tell my brothers after that.” Denise would explain what had happened in simple terms, and it would be a whole lot less embarrassing than coming from her.

Her mother nodded. Once her sisters knew, they would want to rally, but there wasn’t anything to do. Her body was different. Most of the time she was okay with that.

“You’re still on the list to get a baby from Kazakhstan?” her mother asked.

“Yes. Eventually I should get a call. I’m staying positive.”

“That’s important. I know you don’t love working on the reality show, but it’s a nice distraction.”

“It’s beyond crazy. What were they thinking? Mayor Marsha is terrified something bad is going to happen. You know how she loves the town.”

“We all do,” Denise said absently. She frowned slightly. “Just because you haven’t fallen in love yet doesn’t mean you’re not going to. Loving someone and being loved is a gift. Relax and it will happen.”

Dakota hoped she was right. She leaned toward her mother. “You got really lucky with dad. Maybe it’s a genetic thing, like being a good singer.”

Her mother grinned. “Meaning I should start dating again? Oh, please. I’m too old.”

“Hardly.”

“It’s an interesting idea, but not for today.” She rose and walked toward the refrigerator. “Now, what can I fix you to eat? A BLT? I think I have some frozen quiche, too.”

Dakota thought about pointing out that this wasn’t a problem that could be fixed by food. Not that her mother would listen. Denise was nothing, if not traditional.

“A BLT would be nice,” she said, knowing it wasn’t the sandwich that would make her feel better, but the love that went into it.

DAKOTA WAS MEETING her sisters at Jo’s Bar. She arrived a little early—mostly because her house had gotten too quiet, with only her thoughts to keep her company.

She crossed to the bar, prepared to order a lemondrop martini, only to realize that Finn Andersson was standing in the center of the room, looking more than a little confused.

Poor guy, she thought as she walked toward him. Jo’s Bar wasn’t the usual kind of hangout where a man went at the end of a difficult day.

Until very recently, most of the businesses in Fool’s Gold were owned by and catered to women. Including everyone’s favorite bar.

Jo was a pretty woman in her thirties. She’d moved to town a few years ago, bought the bar and converted it into the kind of place where women felt comfortable. The lighting was flattering, the bar stools had backs and hooks for hanging purses, and the big-screen TVs were tuned to Project Runway and pretty much anything on HGTV. Music always played. Tonight it was ’80s rock.

The men had their place—it was a small room in back with a pool table. But without preparation, Jo’s Bar could be shocking to the average male.

“It’s okay,” Dakota said, coming up behind Finn and leading him to the bar. “You’ll get used to it.”

He shook his head as if trying to clear his vision. “Are those walls pink?”

“Mauve,” she told him. “A very flattering color.”

“It’s a bar.” He looked around. “I thought it was a bar.”

“We do things a little differently here in Fool’s Gold,” she told him. “This is a bar that mainly caters to women. Although men are always welcome. Come on. Have a seat. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Is it going to have an umbrella in it?”

She laughed. “Jo doesn’t believe in putting umbrellas in drinks.”

“I guess that’s something.”

He followed her to the bar and took a seat. The padded stool seemed a bit small for his large frame, but he didn’t complain.

“This is the craziest place I’ve ever been,” he admitted, glancing at her.

“We’re unique. You heard about the man shortage, right?”

“The very piece of information that brought my brothers to town.”

“A lot of jobs traditionally held by men are held by women here. Nearly all the firefighters, most of the police, the police chief and, of course, the mayor.”

“Interesting.”

Jo walked over. “What’ll you have?”

The words were right, Dakota thought, telling herself not to blush, but Jo’s look of speculation promised many questions to come.

“I’m meeting my sisters,” Dakota said quickly. “I rescued Finn. It’s his first time in.”

“We generally serve your kind in the back,” Jo told him. “But because you’re with Dakota, you can stay here.”

Finn frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jo grinned. “Not the brightest bulb. Too bad.” She turned to Dakota. “Your usual?”

“Please.”

Jo strolled away.

Finn glanced at Dakota. “She’s not going to serve me?”

“She’s bringing you a beer.”

“What if I don’t want a beer?”

“Do you?”

“Sure, but…” He shook his head again.

Dakota held in a laugh. “You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. Jo’s a sweetie. She just likes messing with people.”

“You mean men. She likes messing with men.”

“Everyone needs a hobby. So how are things? Have you convinced your brothers to leave?”

His expression tightened. “No. They’re determined. Solidarity in numbers and all that.”

“I’m sorry things aren’t working out, but I’m not surprised. You’re right about the solidarity thing. I’m a triplet and my sisters and I always protected each other.” She thought about the conversation she was going to have with them later. “We still do.”

“Identical triplets?”

“Uh-huh. It was fun when we were younger. Now it’s less thrilling to be mistaken for someone else. We try to look as different as possible.” She tilted her head. “Now that I think about it, looking different has gotten easier as we’ve gotten older and started developing our own style.” She glanced down at the blue sweater she’d pulled over jeans. “Assuming we have something close to style.”

Jo appeared with her lemondrop and a beer. She set down the drinks, winked at Finn, then walked away.

“I’m going to ignore her,” Finn muttered.

“Probably for the best.” Dakota took a sip of her drink. “What happens now? If your brothers are staying, are you going back to Alaska?”

“No. I talked to Geoff.” He took a drink of his beer. “I threatened him, he threatened me back.”

“And you’re taking a house together on the shore?”

“Not exactly. He said Sasha and Stephen were both going to be on the show, so I volunteered to work as his pilot. Flying contestants around, that sort of thing. I’m staying.”

Dakota told herself that having a tall, handsome, caring man in town was a meaningless bit of info. That any pleasure she took in sitting next to him, having a drink, was just her natural joy in spending time with a fellow human. She wasn’t impressed by the strong line of his jaw, the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled or the way he filled out his plaid shirt.

“You’re a pilot?”

He nodded absently. “I have a cargo company back in South Salmon.” He picked up his beer. “I’d rather knock both of them senseless and drag them back home,” he said. “But I’m doing my best to show restraint.”

“Think of this as a growing experience,” she said.

“I’d rather not.”

She smiled. “Poor you. Do you have a place to stay for a few weeks?” The words replayed in her mind. “I, ah, mean that if you want something other than a hotel room, I can recommend a couple of furnished rentals, or…” She swallowed and held on to her drink.

Finn turned to her, the stool shifting until he faced her. His dark eyes started on her face, dropped a little lower, before returning to lock with her gaze.

There was something intense about all that attention. Something that made her previous rocklike stomach give a little wiggle. Nothing overt. Just the slightest quivery shift.

“I have a place,” he said, his voice low and a little gravelly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I, ah, do think your brothers could be on the show for a while.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He leaned toward her. “I have a life back in Alaska. The plane cargo business comes with a partner. Bill is going to explode when I tell him I have to stay.” He ran one hand through his dark hair. “It’s early spring. In about six weeks, we’ll start our busy season. I need to be back by then. They should have come to their senses by then, right?”

She wanted to give him hope, but knew it would be silly to lie. “I don’t know. It depends on how much they’re enjoying themselves. They could get voted off early.”

“And then head for L.A.” He grimaced. “That’s what Geoff said. At least here, I can keep my eye on them. Kids. Giant pain in the ass. You have any?”

“No.” She sipped her drink, searching for a shift in topic. “It’s just the three of you?”

“Yeah. Our parents were killed in a plane crash.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. For years it was just us, you know? My brothers were great when they were young. There were a few scrapes, but they tried to be responsible. What the hell happened?”

She stared into his dark eyes. “Don’t take it personally. You’ve done a great job with them.”

“Obviously not.”

She touched his arm, feeling heat through the soft cotton of his shirt. Note to self, she thought. It had been a very long time since she’d had a man in her bed. She would have to do something to fix that.

He was staring at her. It took her a second to remember she’d been making a point.

“Um, this is just a blip in their lives. You see it as huge, but I don’t think it will be. They’re testing boundaries, testing themselves, but you’ll be here if they need help.” She carefully removed her hand, then waited for the sense of heat and strength to fade.

It didn’t.

“They won’t ask for help,” he grumbled, obviously not the least bit affected by her. Which was very annoying.

“Maybe they will. Besides, you should take pride in the fact that they’re comfortable enough with themselves and their lives to risk disappointing you. They’re not worried about losing your love and support.”

The glower from that morning returned. “You’re way too happy a person. You know that, right?”

She laughed. “I’m actually pretty normal on the happy scale. I think you’re jaded.”

“You got that right.” He drained his beer, then tossed a couple of bills on the bar. “Thanks for listening.”

“You’re welcome.”

He stood. “I guess I’ll see you at the show or on the set.”

“I’ll be there.”

Their eyes locked. For a second, she thought he might lean in and kiss her. Her mouth was more than ready to take him for a test drive. But he didn’t. Instead he gave her a slight smile and headed out.

She stared after him, her gaze dropping to his very nice butt and lingering. They knew how to grow ’em in South Salmon, she thought, raising her glass toward the north. At least she thought it was north.

She told herself that finding Finn attractive was a good thing. As far as she could tell, she hadn’t had a single sexual thought since last fall, when her gynecologist had told her about her inability to have children. If she was stirring, so to speak, then it must mean she was healing. Healing was good.

Having Finn kiss her would have been better, but at this point, she would take whatever she could get.