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Benton cleared his throat, then continued to read from the letter.
“I’m ashamed to admit, my whole life was spent in the pursuit of pleasure. Now that I’m a parent, I understand how much more to life there is. Honor and self-sacrifice. The kinds of traits I now recognize not only in my sister and parents, but you.
I doubt you’re aware of this, but Hattie has harbored quite the crush on you for as long as she could walk well enough to follow you around. If my dreams are true, and I am soon to die, I want to do something well and truly good.
The best thing I can think of is to play matchmaker. If you and Hattie end up together, not only will my gorgeous twins end up with a great set of parents, but my beautiful, kindhearted sister will live happily ever after with the good guy she’s always deserved.
“That’s it.” Benton folded the note, returning it to the envelope. “Lyle, Akna, I hope that answers your questions as to why your daughter chose to leave her twins to Hattie and Mason.”
“We’ll contest it.” Akna held a white-knuckled grip on her purse. “My grandbabies need to be with me. Family.”
“Wh-what am I?” Hattie managed past the wall of tears blocking her throat.
“Your mother didn’t mean it like that,” Lyle assured her.
“Lord almighty...” While the wind howled outside the trailer’s paper-thin walls and windows, Mason shook his head. “I feel like we’ve been here ten days. This is nuts. No one gives away kids based on a few stupid dreams.”
Akna fired off a round of Inuit curses at Mason.
Hattie’s chest had tightened. As much as she adored her baby nieces, in no way, shape or form was she ready to become a mom. Melissa had tossed around formally naming Hattie as the twins’ godmother a few times, but that’d been just talk. Hattie had always dreamed of being a mom, but considering her lackluster social life, she’d resigned herself to the fact that unless Prince Charming breezed in on a white snowmobile, her only destiny was to become an old maid. She couldn’t even process the fact that her sister had just outed her feelings for Mason.
“No.” Mason paced the cramped, sterile office. “I want no part of this. Clearly, Melissa wasn’t in her right mind, and I sure as hell don’t believe Inuit dream voodoo.”
“You hush!” Akna demanded.
Hattie shot him a look. “Leave my culture out of this.” Of Benton, she asked, “Are you sure Melissa didn’t want the girls to be with their grandparents? My mom and dad have already taken them in.”
“As you heard in not just the letter, but on all legal documentation, Melissa was quite clear in her wishes. She wanted the girls raised in their own home by her sister and her ex-husband.”
Mason snorted. “Look, I can tell you right now this isn’t happening. I’m due back on base first thing Tuesday morning, and want no part of Melissa’s twisted matchmaking scheme—no offense, Hattie. You’re a great gal, but...”
“I get it,” she said, mortified her own sister would stoop so low as to embarrass her from beyond the grave.
Benton said, “It’s understandable you’d need a few days to adjust to something of this nature.”
“There’s no adjusting. Deal me out.”
Hattie glanced over her shoulder to find Mason’s complexion lightened by a couple shades. He’d narrowed his eyes and held the heels of his hands to his forehead.
“Hattie?” Benton asked. “How do you feel regarding the matter?”
She straightened, drawing strength from not only herself, but her ancestors. “If this is what Melissa wanted for her children, who am I to deny her? Not sure how,” she said with a faint laugh, “but I will raise my nieces.”
“This is wrong,” Akna said.
“I agree.” Lyle shifted on his seat. “Weren’t there other letters from our daughter? Why’d she leave just the one?”
Benton rifled through the file. “That appears to be the only one. She gave me the packet herself. Before now, I never checked the contents. But, Hattie, if you feel capable of raising your nieces, there’s no reason Mason should feel compelled to stay.”
“Good.” Mason now rested his hands on his hips. “Perfect solution. The kids are in capable hands, and I’m back on my base. Problem solved.”
“Not so fast.” The lawyer wagged a pen. “Mason, while I understand your reluctance to take on such a challenge, as of now, you and Hattie share legal custody of Vivian and Vanessa. A family-court judge can release you from this responsibility, but it will take time.”
A muscle ticked in Mason’s clenched jaw. “How much time are we talking?”
“Well, let’s see...” Benton took a few endless minutes to consult his computer. “Ironically, the nearest family-court judge for five hundred miles is on maternity leave. A judge in Valdez is temporarily hearing her cases. First thing Monday morning, Mason, I’ll get you on Judge Dvorck’s docket, but considering the fact that, like it or not, Melissa’s twins are your legal responsibility, I’d strongly advise you to assume their care until the judge releases you from all financial and custodial ties to the estate.” Withdrawing a legal-sized envelope from his top desk drawer, he opened it, then passed along two sets of keys. “These belong to Melissa and Alec’s home and cars. Counting real estate, life insurance and investments, the twins—and you—should live quite comfortably.” He gave Mason and Hattie each copies of the files. “These contain detailed listings of all assets.”
Hattie felt near drowning. Was this real?
Her mother quietly sobbed.
Lyle helped his wife to her feet. “Let’s go. It’s clear we’re not needed.”
Damn Melissa for doing this to their parents.
“So wait—” Mason said once Lyle and Akna had gone. “Me and Hattie are supposed to drag Melissa’s kids from their grandparents, then camp out at Alec and Melissa’s house until we see the judge?”
“That’s about the size of it. Any further questions?” Benton raised his considerable eyebrows.
Oh—Hattie had plenty more she needed to know, but for the moment, the most pressing issue was how was she supposed to keep her sanity while playing house with stupid-handsome Mason?
Chapter Three
In the time they’d spent with Benton, the weather had turned from pretty lightly falling snow to downright blowing ugly. The trailer’s grated-steel stairs were snow-covered and treacherous. This time of year, on a clear, bright day they only had maybe ten hours of sun. During the two hours they’d been inside, darkness had settled in.
Mason held out his hand to Hattie, who stood behind him. “Let me help.”
“I’m fine!” she said above the wind.
Ignoring her, he took firm hold of her arm. “You won’t make it five feet in those heels. Forget you live in Alaska?”
When she struggled to escape him, common sense took over and he scooped her into his arms.
“Put me down!”
He did—once he’d reached her SUV. “There you go. I’ll follow you to your folks’. I’m assuming that’s where the twins currently reside?”
“Not necessary. I’ll take it from here.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?”
She ignored him to fish through her purse for her keys, which she promptly dropped in the snow.
They both knelt at the same time and ended up conking heads.
“Ouch,” they said in unison, rubbing their noggins.
Mason had to laugh. “This reminds me of that time I took you salmon fishing and you damn near knocked yourself out just leaving the boat’s cabin.”
“I tripped and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah...” He found her keys, then pressed the remote. “Climb in. I’ll see you in a few.”
“Mason...”
Her dark, wary tone told him she’d prefer he stay away, but he’d never been one to shirk duty and didn’t plan on starting now. For whatever time he was legally charged with caring for Melissa’s kids, he would. Out of the memory of what they’d once shared, he owed her that much.
The storm made it tough to see the road, but Mason was familiar enough with the route to his former in-laws’ he could’ve driven it blindfolded. He’d shared a lot of good times with Melissa and Hattie’s parents. This afternoon, like the day of Melissa’s funeral, wouldn’t be one.
The back-and-forth drone of the wipers transported him to another snowy day. Weeks after his divorce had been finalized, he’d been fresh off the boat from a grueling two-month Yakutat king-crab season to find himself with his dad at the Juniper Inn’s Sunday brunch seated two tables down from newlyweds Melissa and Alec. As if that weren’t bad enough, Akna and Lyle were also in attendance. As long as he lived, he’d never forget their disapproving stare. Melissa’s betrayal—and Alec’s—had been hard enough to bear.
His dad counseled to play it cool. Not to let them get beneath his skin. They weren’t worth it. But all through middle and high school, throughout his and Melissa’s two-year marriage, he’d loved Akna and Lyle. They were good people. It killed him to think for one second they blamed him for his marriage falling apart. Yes, he’d spent a lot of time away from home, but he was working for Melissa—them. Their future.
Losing their baby hadn’t been anyone’s fault.
He remembered a fire crackling in the inn’s too-fussy dining room. His chair had been too straight-backed and uptight. Even though the weather outside was bitterly cold, inside struck him as annoyingly hot. As long as he lived, he’d never forget the way the snow pelting the windows melted on contact, running in tearlike rivulets that reminded him of Melissa’s tears when she’d asked for a divorce.
She’d claimed his distance had driven her to Alec—not physical distance, but emotional. She’d said the miscarriage changed him. Mason believed that a crock. She was the one who’d changed. His love had never once faltered.
On autopilot, back in the present, he parked his dad’s old pickup in front of Akna and Lyle’s house.
Though the temperature had dropped to the teens, his palms were sweating. Countless dangerous SEAL missions had left him less keyed up.
Hattie pulled into her parents’ driveway ahead of him. She now teetered on their front-porch steps. What’d gotten into her? The Hattie he remembered struck him as a practical, no-frills girl who knew better than to wear high-heel boots in a snowstorm. But then, that girl had also been a tomboy, doe-eyed dreamer who’d preferred the company of her dogs over most people. It saddened him to realize he no longer knew the striking woman she’d grown into. They might as well be strangers.
She damn near tripped, so he hastened his pace to a jog.
“Slow it down.” He took her arm. “You act like this is somewhere you want to be.”
Wrenching her arm free, she grasped the railing instead of him. “Where else would I be? This is my family. Used to be yours.”
He snorted.
At seventeen, he and Hattie had helped Lyle build this porch over a warm summer weekend. Melissa had sat in a lawn chair, supervising. Over ten years later, the wood groaned beneath their footfalls. Bitter wind whistled through the towering conifers that had given the town its name.
The front door popped open. Lyle ushered his daughter inside. “Hurry, it’s cold. Your mom and I were just wondering what took so—” He eyed Mason. “What’re you doing here?”
“Nice to see you, too.” Mason trailed after Hattie, easing past her father. In the tiled entry, he brushed snow from his hair.
Hattie bustled with the busy work of removing her coat, then taking his.
Took about two seconds for Mason to assess his surroundings well enough to realize he’d stumbled deep into enemy territory.
Akna sat on one end of the sofa holding an infant wrapped in a pink blanket. Sophie Reynolds—a buxom busybody he remembered as being a neighbor and clerk down at Shamrock’s Emporium—held another pink bundle in a recliner. Despite a cheery fire, the room struck Mason as devoid of warmth. As if the loss of their child had sucked the life from Hattie’s parents.
Unsure what to say or even what to do with his hands, Mason crossed his arms. “Brutal out there.”
Akna flashed a hollow-eyed stare briefly in his direction, before asking her daughter, “I suppose you’re here for the girls?”
“Mom...” Hattie leaned against the wall while unzipping one boot, then the other. “Honestly? You probably need some rest. And it’s not like you can’t see the twins as often as you like.”
Sophie noted, “A body can never see too much of their grandbabies.”
Mason didn’t miss Hattie’s narrow-eyed stare in Sophie’s direction.
While Mason stood rooted in the entryway, Hattie joined her mother on the sofa, taking the baby into her arms. Her tender reverence reminded him that Alec had been the one who’d ultimately given Melissa her most cherished desire. Part of him felt seized by childish, irrational jealousy over his once best friend filling his wife’s need for babies. But then the grown-up in him took over, reminding Mason the point was moot, considering both parties were dead.
“It’s not the same, and you know it.” Akna angled on the sofa, facing her daughter and granddaughter. “Right, Sophie?”
Sophie nodded. “Amen.”
Akna said, “Your sister betrayed me.” By rote, she made the sign of the cross on her chest. The official family religion had always been an odd pairing of old Inuit ways blended with Lyle’s Catholicism. A gold-framed photo of the Pope hung alongside Melissa’s and Hattie’s high school graduation pictures.
“Oh, stop. Melissa loved you very much.” Hattie’s voice cracked, causing Mason to shift uncomfortably. As much as he’d told himself he hated Melissa, wanted her to hurt as badly as she’d hurt him, he’d never wanted this. Hattie regained her composure. She’d always been the stronger of the two sisters.
“Obviously, not enough. And how could she have ignored Alec’s parents? When your father called to tell them the news, poor Cindy had a breakdown. Taylor’s got them on the first flight out in the morning so she can see her doctor.”
“Such a shame,” Sophie murmured.
“Akna, I’m sorry about all this.” Mason left the entry to join them. “Which is why—soon as possible—I’ll sign over my rights to Hattie. What you all do from there is your business.”
“Hattie,” Akna asked, “with the time you spend at the bar, do you even feel capable of raising twins?”
Hattie shrugged before tracing the back of her finger along her sleeping niece’s cheek. “If this is what Melissa wanted, I feel honor bound to at least try.”
Lyle ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “A few weeks ago, Melissa and the girls rode along with me while I covered for one of my delivery guys.” A former bush pilot, Lyle now owned a grocery distribution center that served many nearby small communities. “Looking back, she acted jumpy. She mentioned not having been sleeping. Didn’t think much of it at the time—chalked it up to her being a new mom. She talked a lot about wanting Hattie to be the girls’ godmother, and that if something ever happened to her, she wanted them raised young.”
“What does that even mean?” Akna asked through the tissue she’d held to her nose.
“Ask me, this is all unnatural,” Sophie said. “The girls should be with their grandparents who love them.”
Hattie ignored the neighbor and forced a deep breath. “Mom, no offense to you and Dad, but Melissa brought up the godmother thing with me, too. At the time, I told her she was talking crazy, but she said she wanted the girls raised by someone young. I guess her friend Bess was taken in by her grandmother, then lost her, which is how she ended up in foster care until she turned eighteen. Melissa didn’t want that for her girls.”
“We’d never let that happen,” Lyle said.
Hattie took her niece from Akna’s arms. “Look, I know this is a shock for everyone—me, too—but if this is what Melissa wanted—”
Her mother interjected, “What about our wishes?”
Lyle sat beside his wife, taking her hand. “Honey, what we want doesn’t matter. All we can do is support Hattie as best we can.”
“I would be calling a lawyer,” Sophie said.
“Sophie,” Hattie said, “please, stay out of this family matter. And, Mom, I don’t mean to be harsh, but you’re acting petty.” Standing, Hattie cupped her hand to the infant’s head. Hattie’s brown eyes narrowed the way they always had when she dug in her heels to fight for what she wanted. “Why can’t we raise the twins together? As of now, Mason and I might have legal custody, but what does that really even mean? I’ll move into Melissa and Alec’s, which is—what?—three miles from you? You used to watch the girls all the time for Melissa and Alec. Won’t you do the same now for me? Vivian and Vanessa will be raised in the only home they’ve known, by people they love. I fail to see how this isn’t the best all-around solution—especially since Mason already agreed to take himself out of the equation.”
“It isn’t the best,” Sophie said, “because grandparents are best. You’ve never been around little ones. How will you even know what to do?”
While Sophie, in her infinite wisdom, rattled on, Mason was unprepared for the personal sting he felt at Hattie’s speech. Did she have to make him sound so heartless and uncaring? But what else could he do? He had no stake in these little lives. Prior to their parents’ funeral, he’d never even seen the girls. If he had his way, he’d be on a return flight to Virginia first thing in the morning.
