скачать книгу бесплатно
“Okay, well...I’ll grab the twins, and we’ll be on our way.” Awkward didn’t begin to describe the moment, especially when she accidentally glanced in Mason’s direction, but he turned away. Purposely? She hoped not.
* * *
SUNDAY AFTERNOON MASON shoveled for all he was worth, but still couldn’t keep up with the mid-October snow. Located on the eastern shore of Prince William Sound, Conifer was known for impressive snowfalls. As an oblivious kid, he’d spent hours happily building forts and snowmen and, if he’d been really ambitious, even tunnels. Now he needed to dig out his dad’s old truck, carefully avoiding the passenger-side door, which was barely attached to the vehicle after it had been rammed by an angry plow driver some ten years earlier.
His dad’s trailer was dwarfed by towering Sitka spruce. Mason used to like playing hide-and-seek in them. Now, having grown used to the open sea, the dark forest made him feel trapped.
It had been six long years since he’d been home.
Best as he could remember, he’d once enjoyed the whisper of wind through the boughs. Today, the world had fallen silent beneath the deepening blanket of snow. If pressed, he’d have to admit the evergreen and ice-laced air smelled damned good. Fresh and clean—the way his life used to be.
“This is the last place I expected to see you.”
“Same could be said of you.” Mason glanced toward the familiar voice to find little Hattie Beaumont all grown up. He’d seen her in the airport when he’d come in, but with Alec’s parents having been there, the timing was all wrong for any kind of meaningful conversation. That morning, at the funeral, hadn’t been much better. “Not a great day for an afternoon stroll.”
“I like it.” At the funeral, he’d been so preoccupied, he hadn’t fully absorbed the fact that the former tomboy had matured into a full-on looker. She was part Inuit, and the snow falling on her long dark hair struck him as beautiful. Her brown eyes lacked her usual mischievous sparkle, but then, given the circumstances, he supposed that was to be expected. “Feels good getting out of the house.”
“Agreed.” He rested his gloved hands on the shovel’s handle. “Snow expected to stop anytime soon?”
“Mom says we could see ten inches by morning.”
“Swell.” Around here, pilots flew through just about anything Mother Nature blew their way, but a major storm could put a kink in his plans to fly out first thing in the morning.
“We still on for this afternoon?”
He nodded. “Two, right?”
“Yes. Benton’s opening his office just for us, so don’t be late.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “Little Hattie Beaumont, who never once made it to school on time, is lecturing me on punctuality? And how many nights did your mother send me out to find you for dinner?”
Eyes shining, she looked away from him, then smiled. “Good times, huh?”
“The best.” Back then, he’d had it all figured out. Perfect woman, job—even had his eye on a fixer-upper at the lonely end of Juniper Lane. Considering how tragic his parents’ marriage had ultimately been, he should’ve known better than to believe his life would turn out any different.
Joining the navy had been the best thing he’d ever done.
“Well...” She gestured to the house next door. “I wanted to thank Fern for the pies and ham she brought to the wake. Might as well check her firewood while I’m there.”
“Want me to tag along?” He’d forgotten the spirit of community up here. The way everyone watched out for everyone else. He’d lived in his Virginia Beach apartment for just over five years, but still didn’t have a clue about any of his neighbors.
“Thanks, but I can handle it.” Her forced smile brought on a protective streak in him for the girl who’d grown into a woman.
“I’m not saying you can’t. Just offering to lend a hand. Besides...” Half smiling, he shook his head. “I haven’t seen Fern since she ratted me out for driving my snowmobile across her deck.”
“She still hasn’t built railings. I’m surprised nobody’s tried it since.”
“What can I say? I’m an original.”
“More like a delinquent.” She waved goodbye and walked down the street, then shouted, “Don’t be late!”
“I won’t.”
“Oh—and, Mason?” He’d resumed shoveling, but looked up to find her biting her lower lip.
“Yeah?”
She looked down. “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”
“Sure. No problem,” he lied. Actually, returning to Conifer had brought on an unfathomable amount of pain. Remembering Hattie’s big sister, Melissa—the love of his life—was never easy. Not only had she broken his heart, but spirit. She’d taught him trust should’ve been a four-letter word. He hated her on a scale he’d thought himself incapable of reaching.
Now that she was dead?
All that hate mixed with guilt culminated in killer heartburn and an insatiable need to escape.
Chapter Two
Hattie had believed her childhood crush on Mason long over. Then he’d gone and flashed his crooked smile, opening the gate for her flood of feelings for him to come rushing back.
Along with her parents—the twins were being watched by their neighbor Sophie—Hattie now sat outside the office of family friend, and the only lawyer in town, Benton Seagrave, waiting for Mason to arrive. The metal folding chair serving as his trailer’s bare-bones reception area made her squirmy. The scent of burnt coffee churned her stomach.
As with many folks in Alaska, Benton had a personal drive outside of his profession. He practiced law from October through May—and then, begrudgingly. His summers were spent on his gold claim in the Tolovana-Livengood region. The only reason he’d agreed to see the family today was because Mason and Alec’s folks flew out in the morning.
Holding her hands clasped on her knees, Hattie closed her eyes, contrasting her remembered images of Mason with ones recently gained.
He’d always been taller than her, but now she felt positively petite standing beside him—not an easy feat for a woman a few local teens still called Fattie Hattie. Not only had he grown in height, but stature. He’d shoveled in his Sorel boots, jeans and a brown long-johns top that had clung to broadened shoulders and pecs. When he’d shoveled, his biceps could’ve earned their own zip code. Sure, in the bar she owned plenty of fit men came and went, but none caused her stomach to somersault with just a flash of a crooked smile. Mason’s blue eyes had darkened and lines now creased the corners. His perpetually mussed dark hair shone with golden highlights. She was two years younger than him, and while the few other kids they’d gone to school with mercilessly teased her about her weight, he’d actually talked to her, sharing her love of astronomy and fishing and most of all...her sister.
On Mason and Melissa’s wedding day, Hattie had tried being happy, but in actuality, she’d suffered through, forcing her smile and well-wishes, secretly resenting her sister for not only her too-tight maid-of-honor dress selection, but for marrying the only man Hattie had ever loved.
Of course in retrospect, Hattie knew she hadn’t loved Mason, but crushed on him. Daydreamed of him holding her, kissing her, declaring it had never been Melissa he’d wanted, but her. Now that Melissa was dead, the mere thought of those traitorous longings made her feel dirty and disrespectful.
Melissa was—had been—the bronzed beauty every guy wanted. For as long as she could remember, Hattie battled jealousy and resentment she’d never wanted, but seemed to have always carried. When Melissa destroyed Mason by cheating on him, well, Hattie had secretly sided with him in believing her own sister heartless and cruel. Years later, when Melissa struggled to conceive, Hattie’s guilt doubled for believing her sister’s infertility was karma paying a call.
Now that Melissa was dead, self-loathing consumed Hattie for not only all of that, but not being able to cry. Since the accident, she’d been the strong one, shielding her parents from the painful process of burying their perfect child, their pretty child, the one their Inuit mother had called piujuq—beautiful.
From outside came the clang of someone mounting the trailer’s metal steps. Seconds later, the door was tugged open. Mason ducked as he entered, brushing snow from his dark hair. He still wore his jeans and boots, but had added an ivory cable-knit sweater that made his blue eyes all the more striking. For a moment, Hattie fell speechless. Then she remembered she wasn’t seeing Mason for a happy reunion, but the reading of her sister’s will.
Her parents, still holding tight to their resentment over the divorce—and especially his attendance at an intimate family moment such as the reading of Melissa’s will—barely acknowledged his presence.
“Am I late?” He checked his black Luminox watch, the kind she’d seen on divers around town. Certain times of year, Conifer was a bustling port.
“W-we’re early.” She struggled knowing what to do with her hands. “Alec’s parents should be here soon, so Benton said to let him know when we’re all ready.”
“Sure.” Mason shoved his hands in his pockets.
And then they waited.
No one said a word. Aside from wind gusts and papery whispers of Reader’s Digest pages being turned, all in the cramped space had fallen silent. Thank goodness Hattie’s racing thoughts and pulse had no volume or everyone would know the extent of her panic. For years, she’d dreamed of a reunion with Mason, but never under these circumstances.
Twenty minutes passed with still no sign of Alec’s parents.
A muffled landline rang in Benton’s office, then came a brief, equally muffled conversation.
“Look,” Mason said, “if you all don’t mind, I’d just as soon get started. I can’t imagine what Melissa would’ve left me. The whole thing’s bizarre.”
“Agreed,” Hattie’s father said, also rising, offering his hand to his wife. Akna and Lyle led the way down the short hall leading to Benton’s office.
Before Lyle had reached the door, Benton opened it. “Good, you’re all here.” He waved Akna and Lyle into the room. “That was Taylor and Cindy on the phone. They’re not going to make it.”
“Everything all right?” Lyle asked.
“As well as can be expected.”
While her parents and Benton made polite conversation, Hattie hung back with Mason. He made the formerly smallish space feel cramped. She needed to get away from him. And take time to process what losing her sister really meant.
“Ladies first.” He gestured for her to lead the way, which was the last thing she wanted. She felt most comfortable in jeans and a roomy sweatshirt. Her black slacks and plum sweater clung in all the wrong places and she’d never wished more for a ponytail holder to hold her long hair from her face.
The graying lawyer greeted them at the door, shaking their hands. “Damn sorry about all this. Melissa and Alec were good people.”
Really? The weight of what her sister and Mason’s former best friend had done hung heavy in the room.
Her parents had already been seated.
Mason cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be rude, but can we get on with this?”
Hattie sympathized with what he must be going through. Just as she had guilt, he must harbor anger. Granted, Mason had left Conifer years ago and his absence no doubt tempered the initial sting of finding his wife in bed with his best friend, but there wasn’t a statute of limitations on that sort of thing. Hattie couldn’t imagine how Mason now felt regarding the lovebirds’ sudden deaths.
Benton’s office could’ve been featured on a special episode of Hoarders. Stacks upon stacks of files leaned precariously on every available surface.
Behind his desk, Benton shuffled through three more leaning piles. He tugged one out, only to have the whole pile follow in a paper-work avalanche. “Oops.” He flashed them all a reassuring smile. “Happens all the time. Give me a sec, and we’ll be back on course. Hattie, Mason, please, have a seat.”
Mason knelt to assist with the cleanup.
Normally, Hattie would’ve helped, too, but at the moment, she lacked the strength.
“There we go,” Benton finally said, reassembling the file he’d previously held. “Thanks, Mason.”
“No problem.”
“All right, then, let’s skip formalities and get right to the meat of the matter.”
“Perfect.” Lyle took Akna’s hand.
Hattie wished for someone to comfort her.
Two additional padded folding chairs faced Benton’s desk. Mason sat in the one nearest the window.
Hattie took the other.
To Hattie, Benton said, “Having Vivian and Vanessa changed your sister—softened her to a degree I’m not sure she allowed most people to see.”
Resting his elbows on his knees, Mason grunted.
Hattie commenced with squirming, carefully avoiding brushing against Mason in the too-close space.
“She was highly superstitious about Alec’s flying. After their marriage, he had me write up a will, stating her his sole beneficiary.”
Sighing, Mason asked, “What does any of that have to do with me?”
Hattie pressed her lips tight to keep from saying something she might regret. Mason had a right to be angry with Melissa, but he didn’t have to be rude. Even though Hattie had her own issues with her sister, when it came down to it, she’d loved her as much as everyone else had in their small town. Melissa’s beauty and spirit had been irresistible. Their parents hadn’t been upset with their eldest for having an affair. Instead, they’d believed Mason—formerly a commercial fisherman—in the wrong for being gone so many days at sea, especially at a time when she’d needed him more than ever.
The lawyer closed the file and sighed. “I’m afraid this has everything to do with you, Mason—quite literally. Alec left the entirety of his estate to Melissa....”
Akna held a tissue to her nose. “Please, hurry.”
“Of course.” Benton consulted the file. “Bottom line, Melissa bequeathed everything to Hattie and Mason in the event both she and Alec passed at the same time.”
“What?” Lyle released Akna to stand. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Surely, not everything—not...the girls?” Tears streamed down Akna’s weathered cheeks.
Benton nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Why?” Hattie asked.
“This might explain.” He handed a letter to Mason, but Mason held up his hands. “You read it. I don’t want anything to do with any of this.”
Akna shot him a dark look.
“Very well...” Benton took the sealed letter, opened it, then began to read.
“Mason—
If you’re reading this, my dreams were indeed the premonition I’d feared. I know you never held much faith in my Inuit heritage, but we place great significance on dreams, and as I have had the same dream of Alec and me passing on three different occasions, I feel compelled to make arrangements should the worst indeed happen.
First, I owe you an apology. Our losing the baby was a horrible accident, nothing either of us could’ve prevented. I’m sorry I not only blamed the miscarriage on you, but was too cowardly to admit I’d outgrown our relationship.”
Mason stood, hand over his mouth, eyes shining with unshed tears.
Benton asked, “Would you like to read the rest in private?”
“Get it over with.” Hands clenching into fists, Mason stared out the window on the far side of the room.
“You’re a monster,” Akna said. “How dare you disrespect my daughter’s last words.”
“Honey...” Lyle slipped his arms about her shoulders.
Hattie wished for an escape hatch to open beneath her chair.
