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“No idea.”
Figures. Love and marriage were supposed to mean something, but not to this flighty woman. “Why did you leave him? What was the problem? He wouldn’t do what you wanted? Wouldn’t take you on the honeymoon of your dreams? Give you every little thing you demanded?”
“Not your business.” The anger returned, her soft jawline went rigid and her hands turned into fists that looked ready to punch something. Maybe him. “What about the tow truck?”
“I’m going to have to call from home, but I’m not wild about taking you to my house.”
“Me, either.” She hiked up her chin. “Where’s the closest residence? I was about to grab my things and start walking, but I didn’t know which way to go. I haven’t seen anyone so far on this road.”
“Myron lives up a ways. You’re right. It’s too far to walk. I’ll take you there. Get in.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
That made two of them. She yanked open the Fiat’s door and pain shot through her fingertip. Another broken nail. The third one to break on this impulsive trip. So much for her pre-wedding spa day. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been. She’d been driving on pure anger, coffee and heartbreak all the way. She yanked her purse off the seat and followed the mountain man to his SUV. Maybe she should introduce herself. “I’m Karenna Digby.”
“Gage Parker.” He wasn’t a friendly sort, and there was no missing the frown he tossed at her. No doubt he didn’t think much of her.
And why would he? She looked a fright. If only she wasn’t wearing this stupid gown. This dress had been the start of her problems—the catalyst that set everything in motion. The gown she had to have, that had cost three months of her salary, because it had represented everything she’d prayed for as a little girl.
She gathered up her train, climbed into the passenger seat and groaned at the pristine condition of the leather. She sat down, wincing because she wasn’t exactly sure how much dirt, mud and grease was on her skirt. Should she apologize ahead of time? One sideways glance at Gage Parker made her change her mind about saying anything at all. Stoic guy, dark look, scary frown. Best to clean up any grime she left behind after she’d gotten out of the vehicle.
He slammed her door, circled in front of his Jeep and stalked through the headlights like a Sasquatch. He was deep shadows, big brawn and leashed power. Suddenly the shadowy woods seemed enormous and she felt very small. Miniscule, in fact. She’d been so steamed about Alan leaving her at the church, her broken-down car and her emotional decision to drive all the way to Alaska, it hadn’t even occurred to her she was alone with a strange man. Sitting in his SUV. He could be a rapist or a serial killer who lived in a weird cabin, miles from known civilization.
The driver’s door swung open and he angled in behind the wheel. No smile, no reassuring clue to signify he was a decent, respectable, law-abiding, nondangerous man. The dome light winked out, leaving him in shadow, making it easier to think the worst.
Okay, I’m out of my element, alone in the dark. Could You please send me a little sign here, Lord? Just something, so I know I’m all right? She knew the Lord might be busy. There was a world of strife and suffering He was tending to, but she still hoped for a small heavenly hint before the SUV started to roll and it was too late to jump out.
“When you get to Myron’s, be sure you call the hotel so they can hold your room.” The mountain man eased his vehicle around her disabled car and accelerated along the road. Twilit forests and a pair of antlers on a startled-looking deer sped past her window.
“My room?” She bit her lip, not quite wanting to admit the truth to the imposing man. Of course he would assume she had a reservation. Any sensible person would. But had she taken the time? No. She’d been too wound up and upset over Alan’s hastily scrawled note.
“I don’t love you enough to marry you,” he’d written. “You’re just too much to deal with.”
“You have a room, right?” Mr. Imposing glowered at her. The look on his face clearly said he thought she was one of those stupid women who wouldn’t have planned ahead.
Since she’d used that word a lot over the last thirty-eight and a half hours, she couldn’t argue with him. Her mother’s voice blasted in her head like a badly burned CD. “You have no common sense, Karenna. You don’t think things through. Who can blame Alan for chickening out? I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”
No place to sleep. Another inadvertent blunder. She should have done an Internet search for Treasure Creek hotels. Now what? She couldn’t look at Mr. Disapproving, so she pulled at a loose thread on her embroidered skirt. “This wasn’t exactly a planned trip. I figured I could find something once I was here.”
“Do you realize half the women in the contiguous United States are in Treasure Creek? At least it seems that way. There can’t be an available hotel room within fifty miles.”
She hadn’t been the only one to read the article. Of course. She hadn’t looked before she leaped. She’d been too busy trying to escape her grief. How could she admit that out loud? She would have to talk about what happened—about her shattered hopes and Alan’s hurtful letter. Better to let this guy think she was a flake in a ruined wedding dress.
She twisted in the seat to take one last look at the shadowed hump of her car on the lonely road. That’s when she noticed something in the man’s backseat. A baby’s car seat. Tension rushed out of her and Gage Parker no longer looked intimidating or questionable. Strong and stoic and grim, maybe, but he was a father. A decent family man. That meant his wife and child were waiting for him at home. No wonder he was put out.
“Without a reservation, you’re probably out of luck,” he growled, wheeling his vehicle off the road and down a bumpy dirt driveway. “Myron might be able to suggest someone who could put you up for the night.”
“You mean stay in someone’s house?”
“Don’t figure there’s any room at the boarding house, either. Which means there are no other options, unless you want to sleep in your car. Maybe you want to try to find that husband of yours? He might have dug up a room somewhere.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that, since I didn’t exactly marry him.”
“Why am I not surprised?” His scowl deepened, emphasizing the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, age lines that placed him somewhere in his midthirties.
Maybe he was feeling sympathy for Alan. Maybe Gage Parker would agree with her mother’s assessment of things. Karenna hung her head, not knowing what else to say.
She didn’t so much care what the mountain man thought of her. She was starting to see his point. This is what happened when you acted out of upset, not calm, rational thought. She had no idea when calm, rational thought was going to kick in. She prayed it would be any second.
A glaze of lights glowed in the shadows up ahead. It was hard to see the surrounding area because of the dense trees, but she caught an impression of a big shed, a woodpile stacked higher than a house and a ramshackle cabin with torn curtains in the windows. The door swung open and a gnarled man’s silhouette was backlit by the light as he put a round into the chamber of the biggest rifle Karenna had ever seen.
“Ho there,” Gage called through the open window, as he stopped the Jeep. “Myron, I need to use your phone.”
“Is that you, Parker?” The man ambled onto a broken-down porch and squinted at the windshield. “Is that the gal you rescued from the cliff?”
“Nah. This is a different one. Her car died out on the road.” He opened the door and hopped to the ground. An old hound dog loped around the side of the house, yowling. Gage paid it no heed. “She needs a tow truck. You wouldn’t mind if she waited with you, right?”
“What? Are you kiddin’?” The old man moved down a few steps and glared harder at her. She could feel his disapproval piercing the tempered glass. “Is that a weddin’ dress she’s wearin’? I don’t want nothin’ to do with that.”
“C’mon, Myron. You know I’ve got my hands full at home.” Gage’s voice was a murmur now, as the two men bent together conspiratorially in the poorly lit front yard. The hound put his paws on the edge of the driver’s seat, sniffed the air and barked at her. No way was she able to hear what was going on.
What she needed was to get out of the vehicle and beg the old man to help her. Although it did look kind of scary out there, so shadowy, with the forest right up next to the buildings. Surely, he was a kind soul who wouldn’t turn away a woman in need? Hadn’t the magazine article said the town was full of noble men and handsome hero types? She opened her door and something big, furry and black lunged at her.
Yikes. A bear! She pulled the door closed with all her might and screamed when something hit the window. Beady green eyes glowed through the glass. Fear exploded through her and she flew out of the seat. The belt yanked tight, holding her in place.
The dog silenced, Gage hopped behind the wheel and slammed the door. “That’s a no go. I can’t believe Myron. He doesn’t like brides, either.”
“B-bear,” she sputtered out, pointing at the window. The beast beat against the glass again, rocking the Jeep.
“That’s Myron’s other dog.” Gage shook his head at her. “You don’t know much, do you?”
That’s exactly what Alan used to say to her. The big black creature loped through the gray twilight—now clearly a mammoth dog—as he joined the grizzled old man on the porch.
She might not know much, but she was learning. Life used to be simple, but it had gone from great to complicated in five seconds flat, and she hadn’t been prepared. Add that to the fact that she was out of her element and she hadn’t slept in nearly two days—and she was a mess. “What now? Are you going to take me back to my car for the night?”
“No.” He sounded unhappy as he wheeled his vehicle around and pointed the headlights down the sorry excuse for a driveway. “You’re coming home with me. But there are going to be rules.”
“Yes, absolutely.” She thought of the wife and child at home, missing him, maybe wondering why he was late. Some women might not be understanding of a husband arriving with a younger woman in tow. “I really appreciate this, Mr. Parker.”
“You’re not to disrupt things. I’ve got a baby in the house. Matthew needs to stay on his schedule.”
“Of course.” Matthew. A little boy. “How old is your son?”
“He’s my nephew. Apparently, my brother decided he had better things to do than raise him, so I’m doing it by default.”
“You and your wife must be extraordinary people, to take in a baby.”
“My wife? That’s a good one.” He shook his head, the SUV accelerating on the dirt lane. They bounced harder until he hit the brakes with an angry punch. The seat belt caught her again, saving her from hitting the dash. “No wife. She had better things to do than stay married to me.”
“I’m sorry.” She could tell the man was hurting. She could make a huge list of all the obvious differences between them, but they had the ravages of failed relationships in common. She felt sorry for him. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”
He glanced at her sideways as he turned off the narrow country road. Surprise carved into his granite features. He really was a handsome man. Dark, thick hair tumbled over a high forehead. His compelling sky-blue eyes and high slash of cheekbones could have belonged to a movie star. The straight blade of his nose didn’t overpower his face, and his mouth and jaw were pure artistry.
If only he didn’t scowl so much.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “I’m off the market for good.”
“Ideas?” She blinked. “You mean marriage?”
“Yes.” He didn’t sound as if he thought she was too bright, either. “That’s another rule. If you want me to help you, you don’t try any funny stuff.”
“Funny stuff?”
“Flirting. And don’t even try to get on my grandmother’s good side.” He sounded angrier and angrier.
She wasn’t exactly impressed. In fact, she was liking him less and less with every passing second. “You live with your grandmother?”
“Remember what I said.” He maneuvered along a tree-lined driveway and gravel crunched beneath the tires. “You leave with the tow truck. Got it?”
“Like I would want to stay.” It wasn’t such a mystery why he was divorced. His plan was sounding like a really good idea. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Mr. Bitter than necessary. She didn’t want his mood or his personality to rub off on her.
Chapter Two
Gage watched the front door of the two-story log home open in a wash of light. Like a beacon, it drew him and Miss Digby closer. A diminutive woman’s shadow appeared in the doorway, drawing a sweater over her shoulders against the cooling night air. No doubt Gran had caught sight of Miss Digby in the Jeep when he’d pulled up, and she was busy drawing all kinds of wrong conclusions.
So not looking forward to this, he thought, and stepped aside to let the jilted bride go first. Karenna swished ahead of him up the concrete walkway and into the porch light’s reach.
“Goodness! Who do we have here?” Gran practically sang, she sounded so happy. “A wayward traveler you found on the drive home?”
He groaned, bracing himself for the obvious comment yet to come—that his grandmother had prayed for him to find a woman. He was no way interested in the too-young, too-cute, too-emotional Miss Digby. He’d rather hike the entire Chilkoot Trail in his bare feet, from start to finish, than let himself be even the smallest bit interested in the woman. It didn’t take a genius to know why she’d come to town. If one groom didn’t work, then go grab another, right?
He frowned at his grandmother so she knew he wasn’t thrilled by the situation. “She needs to use the phone.”
“Yes, I got lost and then my car died,” the wayward bride explained, as she gathered her skirts and hiked up the steps. Her ragged train swept along behind her. “I’m so sorry to inconvenience you.”
“It’s not a lick of trouble, don’t you worry.” Gran looked pleased as punch as she led the way into the house. “We can get Bucky to take a look at your car. Don’t tell me you were on your way to your wedding?”
“More like running away from the disaster my wedding had become.”
“A runaway bride. How mysterious. Come in, dear. You look as if you could use a hot cup of tea and a plate of my homemade cookies.”
Never should have brought the bride home. Gage kicked his boots off on the porch and slapped himself on the forehead. Too late now. Gran looked as cozy as could be, fussing over the young woman. That was his grandmother. Nurturing to all. She looked bursting with excitement, ecstatic that her prayer had been answered. He’d found not just a woman on the way home, but one in a wedding gown.
He stormed into the foyer with shopping bags in hand, and gave the door a shove. The resulting bang reverberated through the house, surprising even him.
“Gage.” Gran looked up from the archway into the kitchen. She winced when a baby’s crying erupted upstairs. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve woken Matthew.”
“Sorry.” He shrugged out of his coat, mad at himself and wishing he could have a do-over on his day. “Want me to get him?”
“You? What do you know about babies?” Gran shook her head, as if she were sorry he’d turned out the way he had. He didn’t know a thing about infants, it was true. She said something to Karenna before disappearing up the stairwell.
He hung his jacket on a wall hook and realized he was alone in the living room. Where had the Digby woman gone? She’d been here a second ago. He followed the sound of water running to the kitchen. She stood at the sink filling the tea kettle.
Interesting.
He set the shopping bag on the counter. “Making yourself at home?”
“I thought I would help out. I don’t feel right, having your grandmother wait on me.” She spun the few steps to the stove and flipped on a burner.
“Then feel free to help yourself to the phone.” He nodded toward the wall phone hanging near the refrigerator. “The local yellow pages are in the top drawer. There are two listings for tow trucks, but Bucky is the one still in business.”
“Why don’t you like me?” She hitched her chin up a notch, studying him with blue eyes capable of bending unsuspecting men to her will.
“What’s not to like?” He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge and twisted the cap. “As far as I can tell, you ran out on your wedding. What you’re doing here in a wedding dress is anyone’s guess. Why didn’t you change on the way? Or did you think the men here would be rubes, easily tricked into marrying you—so you didn’t bother to change?”
“Believe me, if you are anything like the rest of the men in this town, then I want to sue that magazine for false reporting. You are hardly hunky, marriage-minded or charming.” Okay, maybe she’d gotten carried away. Gage Parker was hunky, but that was about all the good she could say about him.
The baby’s crying grew louder as he grew closer, and she gave the disagreeable mountain man a wide berth as she eased by. Disdain rolled off him in waves.
It didn’t take a genius to guess his story. He’d been so disagreeable, his wife had left him, which had only embittered him more. Sympathy filled her. She knew firsthand how painful that cycle could be. She was a child of divorce. Her parents had battled each other until their bond and their marriage had been nothing but dust and broken promises.
With the way Alan had bailed on her, she could understand the allure of bitterness and blame. She was struggling not to give in to the darker side of her anger. Seeing Gage Parker’s life, living with his grandmother because he’d chased everyone else away, was a good reminder to her. Get the anger out, let go and let God lead her to a better place.
She’d pray for Gage, she decided, glancing over her shoulder. He had made a beeline to the phone and began dialing. No guess as to who he was calling. He did not look happy with her.
“Shhh, little Matthew,” Gage’s grandmother said soothing the baby’s cries in the homey living room. She cradled a blue-wrapped bundle cozily between her neck and her shoulder, one fragile hand caressing small circles against the baby’s back. “It’s all right now. There will be no more scary noises, I can promise you that.”
Karenna caught a glimpse of the baby’s red face and her heart broke at his misery. Poor little guy. She took one look at the older woman, her features hollow with exhaustion. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes. Was she the infant’s sole caretaker? That was a worthy job, but a very demanding one, especially for this frail woman who looked to be struggling with the workload. What was Gage thinking? Determined to help, Karenna bounded through the living room, her own upset and tiredness forgotten.
“Someone’s having a rough night.” She tried to get a better look at the baby. He had a shock of dark hair, and big animated eyes and the cutest button face, scrunched up and tear stained. She placed him around six months old. His hands waved, fisted, with the strength of his sobs. She reached out for the little guy. “Let me take him for you.”
“So you know about babies?” The woman handed over the tyke with smiling approval.
“I worked in a day-care center. A very good one, I’m proud to say, ma’am.” She settled Matthew into the curve of her arm, hurting right along with him. “It’s hard being little, isn’t it? You sound hungry to me. Is that a hungry cry?”
“You can call me Jean, dear. I’ll warm a bottle.” Jean jumped toward the kitchen, eager to help. Easy to see the endless love she had for her great-grandchild.
“I can do it while I’m waiting for the tow truck. After all, you’ve had the day shift. You must be tired.” She gently rocked the child in her arms. “Sit down and relax.”
“What a dear you are, Karenna.” Jean beamed with gratitude. “It has been a wearying day.”
“Then put your feet up. I’ve got this covered.” She shared a smile with the elderly woman before retracing her steps to the kitchen. She began to hum the first tune that popped into her head, “Jesus Loves Me.” Matthew’s crying toned down a notch and his dark blue eyes searched hers. One tiny hiccup and he silenced, gazing up at her intently.
“There now, see? Everything is fine.” She hardly noticed the big surly man standing like a hulk in the center of the kitchen. Easy enough to skirt on by him. She tugged open the fridge. “We’ll get your bottle warm and food in your tummy. Wouldn’t that feel wonderful?”
“This isn’t going to work, you know.” Gage’s frown blasted her like icy wind off a glacier.
“Why? Is there something wrong with the stove?” She transferred a bottle from the refrigerator shelf onto the countertop.
