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“Mom’s on husband number six. Dad’s with his fifth wife.”
Norris whistled beneath her breath. “Your family could have its own soap opera.”
“Or a really bad reality TV show,” Jenna said with a laugh. But for the grace of God that had never happened. All she’d ever wanted was a nice stable home environment—to just stay put in one spot for a while. At least her mother had been considerate enough to consistently remarry within the same school district until Jenna had graduated.
“That’s perfect—just the kind of thing I was looking for.” Norris snapped her notebook shut. “Okay, well, I think that covers it. I’ll want to do a follow-up story when the new place is open for business.” Norris tucked her notepad and pen into her pocket and stood, heading for the door. Norris was nice enough not to smoke in Jenna’s little business space and even if the interview hadn’t been over, Jenna knew the other woman was jonesing for a nicotine hit.
“Cool. Merrilee’s planned a ribbon cutting and as mayor, she’s booked the first appointment. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten for your mani/pedi.” Norris had insisted on doing the interview outside of her appointment. She didn’t believe in mixing business and pleasure.
They both stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“See you then,” Norris said, taking off as if she was running late for a day-after Christmas clearance sale. She always looked as if she was running late to something. Jenna figured it must’ve been all those years in the news business.
Jenna’s event notification went off on her cell phone. Perfect timing. She’d be right on time to meet Nelson over at the new spa.
Bundling up, she blew Tama a kiss and headed out the door. Strolling down the sidewalk, her interview fresh on her brain, she thought, for about the millionth time, how much she loved it here. She waved at Nancy and Leo Perkins as she passed the dry goods store. Petey, driving past in his beat up Suburban, blew the horn at her.
For the first time in her life, she almost felt settled. There was still something that niggled at her, a dissatisfaction of some sort, but she was sure once the business was finished and she moved into her own place—the apartment above her shop—that would disappear as well. Then she’d know complete happiness.
LOGAN LOOKED OVER THE reports, months in the making, regarding their expansion in Alaska, spread in front of him on the round mahogany table. His father, as CEO of JMC, Inc—Jeffries Mining Consolidated—commanded a corner office with an impressive view of the Atlanta skyline twenty miles south of them.
Davis Jeffries, his gray hair cropped close and wearing his customary Brooks Brother’s suit and monogrammed cuff links, read through documents his secretary had brought in unrelated to their meeting, while they waited on Martina and Kyle—Logan’s cousins—to arrive. His father had never been one to waste time on small talk. Martina, Logan’s age, handled IT while Kyle, two years their junior, worked the field operations side of the business.
Logan leaned back in the padded leather chair, the same as he had countless times before and studied the same picture he always studied on the paneled wall opposite the seat he always sat in.
Great-grandfather Jebediah Jeffries, the company founder who started out as a prospector in the north Georgia mountains and had struck gold, stared at him from the framed portrait, his stern gray gaze unflinching, shrewd. Ever since Logan had been old enough to remember, the old man had seemed to be holding him to some standard. He was thirty now and it still felt as if his ancestor was somehow measuring him.
Logan looked back to the spread sheets on the table. He’d reviewed the company cash flow and financials prior to the meeting, not that he didn’t already know what was there. He always knew. It was his job to know. He’d taken over as Chief Financial Officer when his uncle Lewis, Martina’s and Kyle’s father, had died in a car accident. Logan had been being groomed to eventually fill that position when Lewis retired, so it was no surprise. The board had decided Logan was ready for the position when Lewis met his untimely end.
Martina strode in, followed by Kyle, and they took their seats at the conference table.
Davis looked up and said without preamble. “Let’s get started.” He turned to his son. “How do you feel about the recommendations?”
They’d started by pinpointing six potential sites, three of which had, over the course of the past few months, been eliminated. The other three were ranked as a first, second and third choice. Logan had watched the developing reports with interest once Good Riddance had been identified as a contender, aware that Jenna Rathburne lived there now. After months of evaluation, once a decision was reached today, things would progress quickly.
“I think we’ll see a nice return on this. Acquisitions worked up the numbers for the buy-out. The residents of Good Riddance, Alaska, are about to hit the jackpot with what we’re going to offer them for the town.” Good Riddance had been recommended as the first choice. “No one there is starving but neither are they fast-tracking.” JMC could make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams. With the company’s offer, the townspeople could relocate to wherever they chose and do whatever they wanted.
Then again, the company stood to make whatever money they spent back ten-fold. Sleepy little Good Riddance, Alaska, literally sat atop a gold mine.
Logan pointed to the bottom line on the financials. “Last year, it would’ve been cost prohibitive but given this new technology, it’s now a good deal.”
Davis turned his attention to Martina. “What about your end?”
“From an IT standpoint, Barton, our second choice, is actually preferable. But we can work with Good Riddance.”
Davis nodded. “Kyle?”
“Barton’s not bad, but Good Riddance is better.”
After asking a few more questions, Davis finally nodded. “Then let’s make an offer for Good Riddance.” He looked at Logan. “Are you sending Chaz?”
Charles “Chaz” Fischer usually handled the actual approach and buyout negotiations. Not this time, however.
“I’m going to handle this one,” Logan said.
“You?” Kyle said. “You never leave the office.”
“Exactly. The negotiations should take a couple of days, tops. Once it’s wrapped up, I’d like to take some vacation time. I’ve always been interested in Alaska.” That was true enough. He’d always been fascinated by the state. And then there was Jenna. He’d kept up with her through a mutual friend on Facebook. And back in the day, she’d fascinated him as well.
What were the odds his company would wind up buying out the tiny little bush town she’d moved to, on the other side of the continent?
Davis concluded the meeting but asked Kyle to stay to discuss equipment updates. Martina and Logan stepped out into the carpeted hall.
“I had lunch with Aunt Laura today,” Martina said.
Logan raised an eyebrow in inquiry. If his mother was “doing” lunch, there was an ulterior motive.
“Yes, she’s at it again. She wants me to find you someone suitable. I thought about telling her I could hook you up with my friend who’s a stripper just to watch her pass out.” Martina grinned. Logan’s cousin possessed a quirky sense of humor he really appreciated. They both knew none of her friends were strippers—at least Logan didn’t think they were. “Just giving you the head’s up, cuz. Now that you’ve hit the big three-oh and got the big title, it’s time for you to pony up and contribute to the Jeffries legacy establishing the company’s future leader. Of course, you’ll have to walk a suitable girl down the aisle in some expensive matrimonial display first.”
Logan shook his head. “I can find my own dates, thanks.”
“Except you’ve been busy with work and finishing up your MBA. Bottom line, you’re not moving fast enough in that direction to suit your parental unit. When you get back from Alaska, be ready to look over the brood mares I line up for you while you’re gone. Make it easier for me. Do you prefer blondes, brunettes or redheads?”
Strictly because they’d just discussed Good Riddance, Jenna came to mind. He was absolutely certain, however, that the outgoing Jenna who did nails for a living wasn’t his mother’s definition of suitable.
“I’d have to say blondes.”
JENNA OPENED THE FRONT door of the new spa and her future home and stepped inside. Even though it was just an empty shell at this point, it was her empty shell.
Home. She grinned and twirled across the open expanse. Breathless, she stopped and looked around her, envisioning the place a month from now.
There was still a faint sense of uneasiness inside her she couldn’t quite shake. When Sven got her place framed in, maybe then she’d shake this feeling.
Thick glass windows offered views of the large evergreens on two sides and Good Riddance on the other two sides.
The materials for the interior lay stacked at the back of the building. She heard Sven, the construction foreman, talking to one of his guys outside. They should finish up the rear exterior today and not a minute too soon. Snow was fast on its way and it was already colder than Sven liked to have his crew working outside. That was the reason she hadn’t popped around out back. She didn’t want to slow them down.
She liked the big third-generation Swede in charge of her construction. Well, she didn’t like him that way. He was a good-looking guy and they got along great together, but there were no sparks there. Just to test the waters, she and Sven had kissed once. Once had been enough. Not that it was awful. Sven was actually a very competent kisser, but she wasn’t looking for competence. Well, actually, she supposed she did want competence, but she also wanted overwhelming passion and that just hadn’t been happening. So, friends they were.
Tomorrow they’d start the interior construction. She pulled her coat tighter around her, envisioning the walls in place and the waterfall that would be in the reception area. It wouldn’t be a big spa but it would be nice. And like most Good Riddance business owners, she’d live upstairs. It was definitely cheaper to build up rather than out.
The front door opened and Nelson Sisnuket stepped inside. His long, raven-black hair was pulled back in its customary ponytail, held with a leather strip.
Nelson was a good friend. Most people liked Jenna well enough, but very few people “got” her. Nelson did.
“Hi, Jenna.”
“Hey, Nelson,” she said, giving him a quick hug.
Nelson was way cool. Jenna loved him. Well, not love-love, even though she’d tested those waters, too. But they’d both quickly figured out they were meant to just be friends. That was happening to Jenna a lot these days. “I appreciate you making time for this.”
Nelson was one busy guy. He worked at the local doctor’s office as an assistant and office manager. He was also a shaman-in-training for his tribe. The tribe’s rule against interracial dating had made a relationship between them impossible, even if there had been chemistry.
Nelson would make a great shaman, Jenna thought. There was just something about him, a centered-ness. When she was a kid, she and one of her step-sisters, Lillith, had discovered a secret place on Lillith’s grandpa’s farm, one they’d returned to every chance they got. A copse of trees surrounded a quiet stream fed by an underground spring. Jenna had loved that stream for its calmness, clarity and constancy. Hanging out with Nelson always reminded her of that place and dipping her toes into the sun-dappled water.
“No problem. I’m glad to do this for you,” he said. “The clinic’s been slow but with the weather change, we’ll get busier,” he said. “How are you?”
It was one of those questions people asked without caring about the answer. But Nelson really wanted to know.
Had it been anyone else, Jenna would’ve given them a pat answer. But this was Nelson. “I’ve had a touch of the funk,” she said.
While she explained her theory behind feeling unsettled, Nelson reached inside his jacket and pulled out an animal-skin pouch. Squatting on his haunches, he placed it on the floor, unfolded it and pulled out what looked like a seriously oversized cigar. It was actually a bundle of sage tied with string.
Jenna had asked Nelson to “smudge” her new building to clear any negative energy before Sven and his crew started on the interior. It was a native tradition Nelson performed regularly at the clinic, cleansing the space. And Jenna wanted as much good energy in her own place as possible.
She and Nelson walked to the farthermost corner of the building. He struck a match and held the flame to the end of the bundle until it began to burn. Smoke curled into the air and he spoke a few prayers, raising and lowering the sage stick at the same time.
“I don’t know,” she concluded once he’d finished. “You ever feel like things are going right but something just feels off?”
He peered at her, seeming to see some place inside her. Nelson had a way of doing that. She was pretty sure it was that shaman thing he was training for. “Yes?” he said.
They leaned against the back wall, the scent of burnt sage wafting around them.
“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Jenna said. “I love living here. Even though I have a business in Marietta, it’s never felt the same as this.” She held out her arms to the empty room and circled slowly. “This is my home. How cool is that? So why do I have this … I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Kind of an empty spot inside?”
“Well, yeah. Maybe a little.”
“Perhaps you are ready to find your mate.”
“No. You can take that back to the drawing board. I’m just peachy keen on my own.”
She’d been a strike-out queen when it came to relationships. That, however, was no small wonder considering both her parents’ track record. If she rolled with the whole concept of genetics, neither of her parents seemed to possess the ability to successfully settle down. Apparently it was a defect she’d inherited. So she’d been cautious, determined not to bounce from relationship to relationship. She’d been holding out for something special.
However, at this point, she figured she probably qualified as the world’s oldest virgin. Still, she wasn’t about to rush into anything just for the sake of saying she had a boyfriend or that she’d done it. She wanted it to mean something. She refused to be a conquest, or worse yet, simply an available warm body in a bed.
“But I think a relationship is what you’re missing.” Nelson could be quietly persistent. And they both knew he didn’t mean a relationship between the two of them.
She loved Nelson and most of the time he got it right but not this time. Nope. She finally had what she’d wanted her entire life—stability and a sense of belonging. She eyed Nelson. “I think you’re projecting. Maybe you’re feeling like you want a girlfriend.”
He shrugged, saying nothing, his dark eyes probing.
Jenna shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I’m doing just fine on my own.”
Another relationship to screw up was the last thing she needed.
2
“WE’RE ALMOST THERE,” SAID the brunette puddle-jumper pilot named Juliette who’d picked Logan up in Anchorage.
His heart beat faster as he looked out over the buildings below. Jenna was down there. He was possibly minutes from seeing her again for the first time in twelve years.
The woman confounded him. He couldn’t seem to shake the attraction he’d always had for her, especially considering that little Homecoming incident.
And dammit, he’d dreamed about her almost every night since his secretary had booked this trip. Steamy, sultry erotic dreams where he was making love to her and she was beneath him, on top of him, beside him. The hell of it was, every time he had one of those dreams, it ended just before either of them climaxed. He’d wake up in a sweat with a raging hard-on. How could a woman he hadn’t seen in years, one he hadn’t even really known, affect him this way? It was enough to drive a man insane.
Surely it was just a matter of pride. He told himself he was eager to see her so she could see the geek she’d tried to prank had turned out okay. There was something to be said for the old adage that success was the best revenge. Not that he wanted any kind of revenge but he did feel the need for her to see firsthand just how successful he’d become.
It might be a family business, but nothing had been a given. If anything, carrying the Jeffries name meant you had to prove yourself that much more, to live up to the family legacy. And it came with both personal and professional expectations. He really wasn’t surprised his mother had enlisted Martina in finding him a potential spouse. Marriage and procreation fell next on the Jeffries obligation list.
Besides, he was admittedly looking forward to playing the hero. He was about to make the dreams come true of everyone living in Jenna’s little town. That was the only reason he wanted to see her.
It was not because he still had a thing for her after all this time. That would qualify as irrational. And it wouldn’t make any sense. Logan didn’t do irrational or senseless. No, he just wanted Jenna to see he’d done well for himself.
True to the satellite images, topographical maps and reports he’d read, a road bisected two rows of buildings. Twilight and snow encompassed the town ringed by towering evergreens. The ruggedness echoed the set designs for the western movies he’d always liked so much as a kid, except this town wasn’t located in the middle of a desert.
“I’ll have us down in a second,” Juliette, the pilot, said. He glanced over at the brunette.
“Good deal.”
She radioed for clearance to land. Really, there was something warped about his thinking. Juliette was very attractive, obviously intelligent from the conversation they’d had on the way out about flying and Alaska, and about his age.
He wasn’t remotely interested in her other than as the pilot getting him to Good Riddance. Instead he couldn’t get Jenna Rathburne out of his head. Those dreams had definitely screwed with his head and his rational thought processes.
A few minutes later they were on the ground, snow falling thick and fast from the heavy blanket of gray clouds.
“Here we are. Hopefully your luggage will make it sooner rather than later,” Juliette said.
Logan nodded and climbed out of the plane. The snow swirled around him, crisp, cold and fresh. In the distance, the air rang with the sound of barking dogs interspersed with children’s laughter along with the unmistakable hum of a diesel engine. He shivered and zipped his jacket. It was damn cold out here.
Because he’d been traveling, he had dressed lighter. Still, he’d dressed the part, trading business suits and business casual for boots, jeans and a flannel shirt he’d worn on trips to field operations in the past. He’d fully planned to retrieve his heavier jacket and gloves once he’d arrived in Anchorage. He’d arrived but his suitcase hadn’t. He really didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan, but there’d been nothing he could do about it.
Logan walked beside Juliette across the open expanse between the small runway and the log building, heading toward a door next to a sign that read Good Riddance Air Strip and Bed and Breakfast. On the far right side of the building, another sign outside yet another door proclaimed, “Welcome to Gus’s,” exactly as it had been described in the scouting report. A few months ago, one of Chaz’s team had been sent in, as a tourist, to assess the area, the people, the infrastructure and then compile a report which was part of the recommendations criteria.
Logan followed the pilot into the toasty-warm room, pausing inside to wipe his feet on the mat and brush the snow off his shoulders and hair. An older woman, about his mother’s age, dressed in jeans and a lace-trimmed flannel shirt, stepped forward to greet him.
“You must be Mr. Jeffries.” Her soft Southern accent once again brought his mother to mind, although his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything flannel. “I’m Merrilee Danville Swenson. As town founder and mayor, I’d like to welcome you to Good Riddance, where you can leave behind what ails you.”
Juliette had mentioned the town motto on the flight in. That had not been in the reports package.
Her handshake was firm and to the point. Logan immediately liked her. Her cooperation would be pivotal in buying out the town. He offered his most charming smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Swenson, and I’m pleased to be here.”
He had been surprised to discover a woman had founded this place out in the middle of the wilderness. However, it was exactly that pioneering spirit that would serve her well in relocating her little town. He even had a couple of locations to suggest when they sat down to discuss business. He planned to do that tomorrow. He wanted to establish a rapport with her and meet some of the townspeople before he broached the subject of the buy-out.
She smiled. “Call me Merrilee. Everyone does.”
“And I’m Logan.” They were off to a good start.
