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“I’m not talking about the formula. You’re trying to win over my grandmother. I told you I wasn’t going to put up with any manipulation like that.”
“Manipulation?” Confused, she opened a lower cabinet and spied a pan. She snatched it by the handle and stepped around the glowering man. Again. “Sorry. You’re wrong about that. I only want to help.”
“But why?” He took the pan from her and turned on the tap. Water rushed in, and he studied her through his lashes, trying to figure out her angle.
“Because it’s a lot of work to take good care of an infant, something Jean is obviously trying very hard to do. Anyone can see she needs a hand. It’s a lot to juggle all by herself, especially when the baby is down for the night and some man thoughtlessly wakes him up.”
“Okay, I shouldn’t have let the door slam. My fault.” The pan was full, so he walked it over to the stove. “It’s decent of you to lend a hand.”
“Especially since you didn’t seem inclined to do it.” She plunked the bottle into the water and spun the dial. She smelled like roses and springtime, and this close, beneath the bright fluorescent lights, he noticed a tiny blanket of freckles across her nose and the unmistakable signs of exhaustion on her face.
“I don’t know much about babies. That’s why I can’t help.” He turned away, furious at himself. He had no business looking at her long enough to notice anything. She was too young, too pretty, too infuriating and she didn’t belong here.
“You can learn—then you could help.” Her tone had softened. That couldn’t be compassion he heard in her voice, a warm understanding that reached out to him like a balm to his wounds.
He didn’t need it. He didn’t need anyone or anything. “I know. Gran can’t keep doing this all alone. She has health concerns.”
“I wondered.” Gentle, her voice low now, so it wouldn’t carry into the living room. “Look at him. He’s blowing bubbles. You’re a good boy, Matthew. Yes, you are.”
He watched Karenna change before his eyes. Her voice became song and her face took on immeasurable beauty. Loving goodness emanated from her as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. Every fiber of her being seemed focused on Matthew. Amazing. He could be fooled into thinking she was the answer to one of his biggest problems.
The phone rang, drowning out the first notes as her humming turned to singing. He recognized the chorus of “Jesus Loves Me” as he grabbed the receiver. Please let it be Bucky on his way with the tow truck. “Hello?”
“Gage.” Bucky’s easygoing drawl reeled across the line. What a relief. “Got your message. Sorry I won’t be able to make it out your way until tomorrow. I’ve got four other calls lined up before yours, and no way can I work through the night.”
“Four other calls?” He couldn’t have heard right. No, this had to be a bad dream. A nightmare. Maybe he’d only dreamed he’d woken up this morning, went to work taking a raft of city women downriver, answered the search-and-rescue call. If none of it was real, then he would be wake up and Karenna would be gone from his kitchen and his life.
If only.
“It’s all these marriage-minded women. Woo-ee,” Bucky was saying. “It’s a gold rush of a different kind—romance. They say love’s the greatest treasure. I ain’t had this kind of attention since, well, never. I’ll be there when I can, Gage.”
“Bucky. Don’t hang up—” Too late. The call disconnected and dial tone buzzed in his ear. Great. Just what he needed. Maybe he could take a look at the car himself. Maybe it just needed a little water and it could make it to town….
Wishful thinking, and he knew it. He was doomed. Worse, he should have been more like Myron. Recognized the danger of a bride without a wedding ring and kept driving right on by her.
Too bad he wasn’t that kind of man.
“Was that the tow truck guy?” She swept the rumbling tea kettle off the stove with one hand, moving easily, keeping her attention on the baby, completely competent and in her element.
Careful, man. Don’t let your opinion of her change. It was the best weapon he had to keep her at bay. He managed a nod and somehow spoke past the sudden tightness in his throat. “He won’t be able to come until tomorrow morning. I’ll see if I can’t find you a place to stay for the night.”
“That would be decent of you.” She smiled shyly at him—not flirty, not coy, not manipulative. Worry shadowed her, but she looked as if she were trying to hide it.
He took the tea kettle from her and filled the three cups she’d set out, ignoring the sensation of being close to her. If his pulse kicked up a notch, it was probably from the ire of being forced to deal with her.
What did he do about tonight? Chances were slim he could find an available room, but he had to try. He grabbed the phone book, leafed through the pages and squinted at the fine print.
“I made you some chamomile tea.” She slid the mug onto the counter beside him. “Looks like you could use something soothing. I didn’t mean to add to your stress. You look as if you’ve had a rough day.”
“I’m fine,” he bit out, trying to find a reason—any reason—to dislike her more. She didn’t seem dippy at all—or flighty or manipulative—and he wanted her to be. He wished he felt that she was taking advantage of him and trying to play with his feelings.
But no, that was another woman who had been guilty of that. His wife had done a number on him, no doubt about it. He hated to admit he was wrong. Karenna Digby didn’t seem a threat as she moved away with the cup of tea for his grandmother, and left the room with it.
He could hear the lullaby of her voice as she exchanged words with Gran in the living room. He punched in the phone number and waited for it to connect. No room at the inn, he was told, so he punched in the next number. There were only a few hotels in town, plus the boarding house. By the time Karenna had returned to whisk the bottle from the boiling water and test the formula on her wrist, he’d made his last call. Looked like he was stuck with her.
“What a good boy,” Karenna whispered at the crib rail, latching it securely. One look at Matthew asleep in his fluffy blue sleeper made her melt. Such a little doll. She had a soft spot for all babies. It’s what had made her good at her job and what she hoped would make her a good mom one day.
That day was now a lot farther in the future.
She took one last look at the sleeping baby, asked God and His angels to watch over the child and padded into the hallway. She drew the door closed behind her, hoping Gage had found her a place for the night. If not, she always had her car.
“Thanks for helping out.” Gage was sitting in the mostly dark living room. He’d turned all but one lamp off, and he rose, merging with the shadows. “Taking care of the baby is too much for Gran to do alone day in and day out.”
“Isn’t there anyone else to help?”
“No family close by, and I haven’t found a nanny. Don’t think I haven’t tried. Until a few days ago there was a serious scarcity of women in these parts.”
“So I read.” It had seemed eons ago when she’d spotted the little diner north of Bellingham and stopped for coffee. The jury was still out on whether her decision to drive to Alaska had been a good one, but she was hopeful. “Since the hotels are brimming with women, I’m sure you can find someone to hire who won’t mind your surly disposition.”
“Or maybe they are too desperate for marriage to care about my disposition.” A hint of humor warmed his words.
“I suppose that’s what you think I am. Desperate. An opportunist looking for a man.” She spotted her purse on the vanity table behind the sofa and circled around to fetch it. “You think that I heard there were available bachelors and I couldn’t get here fast enough to catch one of them.”
“That’s how it looks.” He moved toward her to stop her from grabbing her purse. “Someone only out for herself and her own gain wouldn’t have waited on Gran, taken care of Matthew, put both of them to bed and then cleaned up the kitchen. And all done with a smile on your face.”
“I like to help people.” She figured there was a lot more she could tell him. How she’d disappointed her upwardly mobile parents, who were a tad on the ruthless side, by choosing to take care of babies instead of pursuing a white-collar profession, which they thought was the only acceptable pathway. How her mother had told her after reading Alan’s letter, “I’m so ashamed of you, Karenna.”
No, best to keep those things to herself. “I figured I owed you, seeing as how you could have left me with Myron and his bear, even if I wasn’t welcome.”
“That dog does look like a bear—and acts like one, too. I couldn’t do that, even to you.” Was that a smile in his voice?
Maybe just a little one, she decided, realizing she was smiling, too. “I hate to impose, but could I borrow a blanket and a pillow?”
“What for?”
“To make my front seat a little more comfortable. I had to buy the fun car instead of being sensible and getting a sedan with a backseat.” She rolled her eyes. “What was I thinking?”
“That you wouldn’t be stuck on a country road in Alaska overnight?”
“Right. I’m mostly a stay-close-to-home kind of girl. What I’m doing here, I have no real idea. Especially since I just figured out you can’t run from what’s hurting you.”
“It comes right along with you. Yep, I learned that the hard way, too.” He felt unusually close as he cleared his throat. “About the car. I think it’s a bad idea.”
“Because of bears?”
“Because it’s not right. I changed the sheets on the bed upstairs while you were in the kitchen. There’s fresh towels in the bathroom and a few of Gran’s things folded on the dresser. Have a good night.”
“But where will you sleep?”
“The couch will suit me fine.” He brushed passed her and reached for the remote. He flipped on the late-night news and hunkered down in a recliner to watch.
“Thank you, Gage.” She thought she felt him smile again as she padded up the stairs, but the mountain man was still too much of a mystery for her to be sure.
Chapter Three
Karenna in the morning was a sight to behold. Gage nearly dropped the coffee pot when she strolled into the kitchen. Good thing the thermos was nearly full. He set the carafe back on the burner with an unsteady hand. Strange that he would react to her like that. He gave a single nod of recognition as she opened a cabinet and helped herself to a coffee cup.
“Good morning.” She appeared as if she meant it, for her too-big and impossibly blue eyes were sparkling. She looked as cute as could be, even with her golden hair damp from a shower, and she was wearing a pair of his old gray sweats. She looked like one of those cheerful morning people. “I hope you slept well? I kept worrying that you weren’t comfortable on the couch.”
“I noticed you were up several times during the night when Matthew cried.”
“I took his crib monitor from Jean’s room when she wasn’t looking. I figured she could use a full night’s sleep.” She sidled next to him at the counter and whisked the coffeepot off the burner. “Playing nanny for a bit was the least I could do in exchange for your hospitality.”
“That’s decent of you.” He twisted the cap on his thermos tight.
“Back at you.” She poured a cup of coffee. “You look as if you’re about to head out the door. Where do you work?”
“I’m a guide for a local tour company.”
“The one in the magazine?”
“Yes, and don’t give me that look.”
“What look?” She pulled the carton of milk out of the fridge and stirred a thin stream into her coffee.
“The one that promises all of Alaska’s Treasures tour guides are handsome, eligible bachelors. Obviously, they didn’t include me in the article.”
“Obviously.”
Sure, she was beautiful. She was cute and captivating, wholesome and charming. Now that she wasn’t in a wedding gown, he didn’t feel nearly as defensive around her. But that didn’t mean he intended to like her.
“If they had, then women like you wouldn’t be flocking into town—”
“Excuse me. Women like me?” She arched a brow at him. The look on her face said, no longer wholesome. She’d morphed into the tire kicker, the woman who’d been all steamed up when he’d first come across her, stranded in the dark. She arrowed the full force of her gaze at him. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Flighty women. Women looking for advantage and opportunity.”
“Oh, so now we’re back to me being an opportunist. Tell me, what opportunity am I looking for? What advantage?”
“Hard to say when you’re in a mood like that.” Uh-oh. He’d never had a way with the ladies, and this was a flash of what had gone wrong in his marriage. He would open his mouth very clear on his opinion of things, only to be outright misunderstood. Women. Not just a mystery to him, but to the entire universe. “Let’s just say you’re not the staying type.”
“Staying type? Oh, and men are?” She shut the refrigerator door and stalked across the floor to glare up at him. “I just got left at the altar. Hello? I wasn’t the one who ran off.”
“I didn’t know that.” This wasn’t going at all the way he wanted. Panic set in, along with the fervent wish he’d gotten out the door before she’d come into the kitchen. “When I got divorced, I never figured I would have another irate woman to deal with before breakfast.”
“Guess again, buddy.” She shook her head, scattering bouncy golden locks. “I can’t think of anyone who has ever gotten me so mad so fast. You have a gift, Gage.”
“I’ve got something.” A disaster record when it came to women. Good thing he was under no illusions that he ought to try marriage again. He and women just didn’t mix. Like oil and water. Like gasoline and flame. Like dynamite and a detonator. “I’ve got to get to work. Bucky ought to be here around ten. It was real nice meeting you.”
“You don’t sound as if you mean that.”
“I don’t. Good luck, Karenna.” That he meant.
He couldn’t help the tug in his chest as he grabbed his lunch pail, his egg sandwich from the counter and his thermos. He opened the back door—didn’t know why he took one last look at her.
Maybe he sort of liked her. She was spunky and perky and had been kind to Gran and Matthew. She looked out of place in the simple country kitchen, so beautiful she hurt his eyes.
He shut the door behind him, closing down his emotions. He had no business feeling anything for her. He strode down the porch and into the morning light.
What a cantankerous man. Karenna watched Gage’s SUV trail down the driveway, the taillights growing fainter until the thick stands of cedar and fir stole him from her sight. He was too young to be truly called cantankerous—that brought to mind someone at the end of his life, embittered and thoroughly disagreeable. It’s more like Gage had a grizzled personality.
That, and he didn’t think much of women. After putting cold water and fresh grounds into the coffeemaker, she carried her cup to the round table in the sunny breakfast nook. She was a Seattle girl, raised in the Green Lake neighborhood north of the University district, where leafy trees lined pleasant streets and a short walk took her to the small city park and lake. That was her idea of nature.
Not anymore. The view outside the picture window was awe-inspiring. A lush green forest marched up the hillside as far as she could see, to the lower skirt of a mountain range. Snowcapped peaks, rugged and majestic, speared the flawless blue sky, as if the earth were trying to reach all the way to heaven. What a beautiful start to a day, gazing upon all of this. Surely, living here would make someone less cantankerous over time?
A deer and two small, spotted fawns wandered into the driveway. Such tiny, delicate creatures, peaceful and sweet. She held her breath, not daring to move as they passed by the window.
“Probably come to try to nibble at my garden.” Jean broke the silence, padding into the kitchen in her pink terry-cloth robe and scuffed yellow slippers. “Gage got it fenced up good and tight for me, but there’s no telling if the deer will stay out. They’re real inventive. Good morning, dear.”
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock.”
“Matthew had a bottle around four. He was sound asleep the last I checked.”
“He is. I just peeked in at him. Sleeping like an angel.” Jean shuffled to the coffeemaker. “I see you made fresh. Gage takes half of the pot in his work thermos.”
“I wanted to make sure there was enough for you.” Karenna pushed out of her chair. “I was thinking about breakfast. Would you like me to cook? I wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. You’re our guest.”
“Guest? More like an imposition.”
“It depends on who you are talking to.” Jean appeared amused as she stirred milk into her cup. “You saw Gage before he left?”
“Saw him, talked to him, lived to regret it.”
“You and everyone else.” Jean laughed easily, reminding Karenna of her own grandmother. “I’m not at all sure what I’m going to do about that boy.”
Boy? He was a man in his prime, wide of shoulder, brawny and strong. Karenna couldn’t imagine Gage as a boy. “Was he always that impossible?”
“You mean stubborn? Strong-willed?” Jean nodded. “Yes. He was the funniest kid. Kept me in stitches the whole time he was growing up.”
“Gage funny?” She fished a frying pan out of the lower cabinets. “You have to be talking about someone else. I don’t buy it. Not Gage.”
“He was a card. Always laughing. Always seeing the bright side of life.” Jean opened the fridge and handed over a carton of eggs. “That was before his marriage fell apart. I knew that girl wasn’t right for him. She was nice enough. She just didn’t value all the right things, Gage especially.”
“That sounds difficult.” Having some experience with that very thing sent a wave of sympathy through her. Hard to picture Gage with a smile on his face, always laughing. “He must have changed completely.”
