скачать книгу бесплатно
“There’s no telephone,” Joe said, and she looked up, startled.
No telephone. That was going to bother her, and she knew it. But then, she reminded herself, that was what she’d come out here for. Maybe it was too many modern conveniences that had turned life upside down in the city. She’d wanted the opposite of that, and if giving up the telephone would help her get it, who was she to quibble?
“We’ll get used to it,” she said firmly. There would be no ordering out for pizza. But there would also be no crank calls, no banks calling to sell their credit cards, nobody selling tickets for the policemen’s ball. Life would go on.
“Nap time,” she murmured, untying Kimmie’s bib though she hadn’t really swallowed a thing.
Kimmie stared up, her dark eyes huge as she gazed around her fist at her mother, clinging to that thumb with all her might.
“I’m not sleepy,” Rusty said fretfully, but he rubbed his eyes and yawned, and Chynna knew it was only a matter of time before his eyelids began to droop.
Softly, as she cleaned them up from their meal and began to shepherd them into the bedroom they would be using, she began to sing a lullaby.
“‘Good night, say the teddy bears, it’s time to close our eyes.’” She’d sung it to the two of them at bedtime since they were babies, and by now it worked like magic. They heard the gentle melody and they both relaxed, knowing it was time for a nap, knowing there was nothing that could keep sleep away. That was just the way it was.
Joe watched her with a frown. It was all very well that she was a wizard with her kids, but what did that mean in the long run? Greg and kids—no, the two concepts clashed like...like pickles and ice cream. It wouldn’t work. He had to talk her into going back to Chicago, back to where she’d come from.
Rising, he began carrying dishes to the sink and tried to think of what he would use as his salient point. He was a lawyer, after all. All those years of training in logic and argument were finally going to come to something. No problem. Once he got going, she would be putty in his hands.
He rinsed off the dishes and stacked them, turning when he heard her coming back into the kitchen.
“They’re down for their naps,” she said simply, giving him a quick smile. “We can talk.”
“Nice work,” he said, complimenting her, his head tilted to the side as he looked her over. Nice work, he repeated silently to himself, but this time his comment was related to the state the woman was in herself. She still looked crisp and efficient in her blouse and skirt, but her hair had come undone just enough to leave wisps flying about her face in a very fetching way. She was one attractive woman.
“Shall we sit?” he offered, gesturing toward the chairs at the table.
She nodded and preceded him, glancing up in surprise when he helped her with her chair.
He took his place opposite her and narrowed his gaze, ready to lay down the law as he saw it.
“Let me see if I have this straight,” he began. “You put yourself in a catalog for men who want mail-order brides. Greg answered, selected you and sent you money to come to Alaska. You brought along two kids you hadn’t told him about, hoping he would take them as part of the bargain. But Greg wasn’t here when you arrived. Is that about it?”
She stared at him for a moment, wondering how long he was going to try to keep up this pretense that he wasn’t Greg. She was sure he was going to try to use it as an excuse to get out of their contract. He’d taken one look at the kids and panicked. That had to be it. Now he wanted to get rid of her so he could order himself up another woman, someone who would come unencumbered with little ones.
Well, she understood his angle. She’d been afraid something like this might happen. But she wasn’t going to give up quite that easily. What she needed was time...time for him to get to know the children, time for him to get to know her and what kind of person she was. Once that happened, surely she would be able to talk him into taking them as a set. All she needed was time.
“That’s about it,” she said evenly. Leaning forward on her elbows, she decided to let him have his game without protest at this point. “The only part you left out was how committed I am to making this work out for all of us.”
He gazed into her dark eyes and found only sincerity, but he couldn’t hide his smile of skepticism.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, you know. This doesn’t make any sense, and you know it.”
She raised one delicately molded eyebrow. “Do I?”
His short laugh said it all. “Sure. Look, Chynna, you’re a beautiful woman. I can’t believe you’ve ever had any problem getting a man.” He turned his hand palm up on the table. “What would a woman like you need to resort to these measures for?”
For the first time, her gaze wavered. “I never claimed I had problems getting men,” she retorted stiffly.
He shrugged as though that proved his case. “Then why did you do it? Why did you make this contract with my brother?”
She hesitated, her eyes cloudy. “I have my reasons,” she said at last. “I’ll explain it all to you at some point. But I’m not quite ready to open up on every private hope and dream I have. Not yet.”
His mouth twisted as he studied her. “Why didn’t you tell Greg about the kids?” he asked.
She wet her upper lip with a quick slip of her tongue. “I knew what your first reaction would be,” she said simply. “I wanted you to get to know them before you turned them down.”
“I’m not Greg,” he said automatically, but he wasn’t really thinking about that. He stared at her. Nothing she said added up. There had to be something else going on here. But what?
“Sorry. ‘Joe,’ isn’t it?” she amended, rolling her eyes only slightly but letting the tone of her voice emphasize the way she felt about this masquerade she thought he was playing.
“‘Joe’ it is,” he stated flatly. “Always has been and always will be. And Greg...” He hesitated, then leaned forward, determined to get this cleared up and out in the open once and for all. “Listen, Greg is my brother. I know him well. And believe me, he’s not husband material in any sense of the word.”
She lifted her chin and met his gaze steadily. She had to admit, she liked what she saw. His face was tan, with grooves where dimples had probably once been, and tiny laugh lines around his eyes. From what she’d seen so far, she would say he was a very nice guy, and one who seemed to see the humor in most things. A man like that should be ready to love children. Why wasn’t it happening?
“Not husband material?” she repeated. “I see. What’s wrong with him?”
He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable to be spilling family secrets. But in this case, he didn’t see any alternative. “It’s not that there is anything wrong with him, per se. It’s just that he’s...” He narrowed his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “He’s a real Alaska guy, you know what I mean? If this were ninety years ago, he’d be digging for gold in the mountains. If this were a hundred and fifty years ago, he’d be living off the land, tromping around in snowshoes and only coming down to civilization once a year for supplies. This is not a man who is set up, either psychologically or emotionally, to take care of a family.”
“Oh?” She narrowed her eyes, too, staring right back at him. “Then why did he pick me? Why did he send me the money to come join him?” She picked up the envelope that was lying on the table between them and pulled out the photograph, dangling it from her fingers. “Why did he send me this picture of himself? And why did he say the things he did?” She shrugged delicately. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” she suggested.
He frowned, watching her wave the picture around and feeling like punching his brother in the nose once he found him again. This would have been a lot simpler if Greg had sent a picture of himself instead of using Joe as bait. “I can’t really explain why he did those things,” he said shortly. “Maybe he was playing around with a dream and then got cold feet when it looked as though it might actually come true.”
She snapped the photo back into the envelope. “Yes, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” she said sweetly. “This has come true. Here we are. So let’s make the best of it.” She rose, starting toward the kitchen sink, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Listen, you don’t seem to get it. I think you should pack up your kids and get while the getting’s good. Leave. Take a plane and head out. Go back to where you came from.”
Staring down at him, she slowly shook her head. “The pilot of the little plane that brought us from Anchorage said he wouldn’t be back this way for four days,” she noted. “We can’t leave, even if we wanted to.”
He swallowed hard. This was a reminder of what it was like to live out in the boonies. That just showed how quickly one could get used to modern life in a big city, where every convenience was at beck and call at any moment of the day or night.
“Oh,” he said, letting his hand drop. “Well, I suppose I could drive you to Anchorage.”
The lack of enthusiasm for that idea was evident in his voice, and she smiled suddenly, shaking her head again. “Don’t bother,” she said crisply, turning back toward the sink. “We’ll stay. You need us.”
“Like a hole in the head,” he muttered to himself as he made his way toward the front door. There was only one thing left to do. He had to find his brother, or at least find out where he was and when he was planning to drop in on this hardy little band of squatters who had taken over his house.
“Where are you going?” she called after him, leaning out of the kitchen door.
He looked back at her. “I’m going to see if I can find out where Greg went.”
He expected to see a flash of annoyance in her eyes, but instead he saw a flare of fear. “You are coming back, aren’t you?” she called.
“Of course I’m coming back.”
He turned toward the car, not wanting to see her face, see the questions in her eyes. She still thought he was pretending not to be Greg. Well, it hardly mattered. She probably thought he was a little nuts, but then, if she were confronted with the real Greg, she would do more than think it.
And yet, that was hardly fair. He hadn’t seen his brother for a number of years. It was possible he’d turned into a model citizen after all. Yes, it was possible. Just barely.
He swung behind the wheel of the long, low sports car he’d rented in Anchorage and started the engine, thinking how out of place a car like this was out here in the wilderness.
“And that’s exactly why I love it,” he murmured, avoiding a pothole and turning onto the two-lane dirt road that would take him to the combination post office and general store that served as the center of Dunmovin, the so-called town he’d been born in thirty-some years before.
Three
The place looked the same, only a decade and a half older and more run-down. Right next to it was a shiny new building. The sign in the window said Nails By Nancy, and Joe stopped for a moment and stared at the little yellow storefront, wondering who in the world there was for Nancy to do the nails of—whoever Nancy was. Shaking his head, he took the steps into the general store two at a time and burst in through the front door.
The theme inside was pure familiarity. Goods were still stocked to the ceiling, stacked precariously on long plank shelves. A lazy fan took a fainthearted pass at stirring the air. Two ancient residents sat on chairs tilted back until they leaned against the wall, and Annie Andrews stood behind the counter, working on her account books.
She looked up over her glasses when she heard him come in and gave a snort of surprise as he walked into the dusty little building.
“As I live and breathe. Joey Camden.” The gray-haired woman folded her arms across her chest and gazed at him instead of giving him a hug, but her snapping black eyes and crooked grin were filled with the warmth of her welcome, and he appreciated it, grinning right back. “What brings you to these parts, stranger?”
“The call of the wild, I guess,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and rocking back on his heels. “You always told me Alaska would call me back.”
She nodded, looking pleased. “That I did. And I’m always right, aren’t I?”
“Always,” he agreed. He glanced at the two old-timers, but though they were eagerly hanging on to every word of this conversation, he could see that he didn’t know either one of them. He gave them a nod and turned back to Annie.
“You going to be living with your brother in that old house?” she asked him, her eyes sparkling at the thought of it.
He hesitated. “No, not exactly. In fact, I’m just here for a short visit. I’m on my way to see Mom.”
Annie nodded, taking a swipe at the counter with a rag. “How is your mother?” she asked. “She writes me every year at Christmas, but it isn’t the same as having her a mile or so down the road. She was one of the few females I ever got on well with around here.”
“She’s okay. Not as young as she used to be, and she’s worrying me a bit.” He moved awkwardly, not used to unburdening his soul, but somehow the truth came pouring out. Maybe it was because he was talking to a woman who had known him since he was a baby.
“Actually, that’s why I came. I’ve been trying to get Greg to come into Anchorage and see her. But you know how he is. Cities give him hives. Or so he says.”
“Unlike you, who loves them.”
He shrugged and gave her a crooked grin. “You know me well, Miss Annie.”
Annie nodded her appreciation for his use of the old term he’d used for her when he was a boy, but her brow furled. “Joey Camden, you’re Alaska born and bred,” she accused. “How can you stay down in that forsaken place in California when you know you should be back here where you belong?”
“Here?” He shook his head and laughed shortly. “Oh, no. I don’t belong here anymore. I’m a city lawyer now, Annie. You remember. That’s what I always wanted.”
She nodded, looking a bit sulky. “Oh, yes, I remember it well. Bright lights and big cities, that was what you always said. And I always told you it wouldn’t satisfy you for long.”
“Well, that may just have been the one thing you were wrong about.”
She shook her head, stubborn as ever. “Nope. I’m never wrong about things that have to do with the heart. You’re the one who just hasn’t woken up and smelled the coffee yet.”
It certainly wasn’t worth arguing about. “Maybe you’re right,” he allowed. “I see this town is going great guns. You’ve even got yourselves a nail parlor. How’d you get so lucky?”
Annie grinned. “Nancy came about a year ago. Calls herself an eco-feminist. Wanted to hunt and fish and live as one with nature. You know the type. Wouldn’t know nature if it came up and bit her where the sun don’t shine.” She chuckled, enjoying her own little joke. “Turned out she was a total failure at the hunting-and-fishing stuff. Guns scared her, and she couldn’t look a trout in the eye. Thought they were slimy. But I got to hand it to her—she wouldn’t give up. I suppose partly it was that she didn’t want to go back and face her eco-feminist friends with failure. Anyway, she decided she would stay, but go with avenues down which her talents really lie.”
“Nails,” Joe guessed.
“Yup. And manicures for the guys, things like that.”
“Oh, come on, Annie. How many men around here want manicures?”
“Every dang one of them when the place first opened. You should have seen them. They were standing in line.”
Joe looked shocked, then his face changed as the light dawned. “Oh. She’s a looker, is she?”
Annie grinned. “She’s about the prettiest girl we’ve had around these parts since the Babbitt twins left for summer jobs at Disney World and never came back.”
Joe nodded. The twins had been about five years older than he, but he remembered well the sad day they left for the lower states. The men in Dunmovin had mourned for months.
“Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. Let me fix you some dinner. How about it?”
He smiled. “Thanks, Annie. But right now, I’ve got other things on my mind.” He glanced around the littie room again. “Do you have any idea where I could find my brother?”
Annie pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I take it you’ve already been out to the house,” she began, then her eyes brightened. “Say, wait a minute. Billy McGee was in here earlier and he said some woman had come in on the mail plane, come to see Greg. Had two little kids with her.”
Joe nodded. “That’s right.”
Her black eyes narrowed craftily. “Said she was coming here to marry Greg. Any truth in that?”
Joe hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m not sure about that.”
Annie leaned forward and pinned him with her flashing gaze. “Said she was some sort of mail-order bride. Any truth in that?”
Joe sighed and gave her a long, lazy look. This was not a rumor he wanted spread. “I thought mail-order brides went out when the gold fields dried up,” he said silkily. “I never did believe a woman would do something like that, anyway.”
Annie snorted. “I know plenty of men who would jump at the chance to pick out a wife like they pick out their drill presses and their Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes. Just choose a number and send in a check and she’s yours, for better or for worse.”
“Mostly worse, likely.”
Annie raised an eyebrow. “Who knows? The divorce rate ain’t so great on matches people choose for themselves when they supposedly fall in love first.”
He grinned at her. “You’ve got a point there.” His grin faded and he grimaced, leaning closer so that only Annie could hear him. “Tell you the truth, she does claim she’s here because Greg...well, because he sent for her. You don’t know anything about this?”
Annie’s eyes glittered but she shook her head. “No, . really. Greg has never been one to whisper his secrets in my ear.”
Joe grinned. “I know that. I just thought you might have noticed the mail going back and forth.”
One eyebrow rose. “Now that you mention it, there was a lot of correspondence there for a while. You know, Greg comes in with his bills once a month. That’s usually the only time I ever see him. Oh, and when the Field and Stream magazines come in, he’s always here the next day. But he was coming in almost every other day for a while.” She gasped. “Wait a minute. I do seem to remember overhearing him talk about some girl he was going to get hitched with. I didn’t pay it much mind—you know how your brother tends to...” She hesitated.
“Lie?” Joe supplied.
“Well, now, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. How about he just embroiders the truth a little? He likes to make life dramatic.”
“Yeah, right.” Joe nodded, his mouth twisting cynically. “Meanwhile...I’ve got a bride on my hands, and no groom in sight. If you see Greg, tell him to get his tail on home and clean up this mess.”
“You can bet I’ll do exactly that.” She followed him to the door of the building and added gruffly, “And you come on back and see me again before you leave. You hear?”
