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“Have you asked her about it?”
“Not really,” Casey said, a bit sheepishly. “We don’t have the kind of relationship that most twins do. Or at least, we haven’t since we moved to Alaska. Everything changed. She shut me out.”
“That must have hurt,” Amy said, in a gentle tone. It had.
“I got over it.”
Amy steepled her fingers on the desk. “Her joining the Rodgers tour might be a really good thing, then. You two might grow closer.”
Of course Amy would think of the situation as an opportunity for the sisters to bond. Amy was an idealist in many ways. Casey, not so much.
“It’s just so infuriating that my sister would weasel her way in like this,” Casey said, sure that Amelia’s motivation had nothing to do with a desire to be out in nature and everything to do with Jake. Not that that was any of Casey’s concern. “Who is Amelia kidding? She’ll hate it and make everyone miserable.”
Amy slipped off her serviceable clogs and propped her sock-clad feet on the arm of her chair. Little penguins, dressed in frilly outfits, marched up the sides of her long, white socks and disappeared beneath the legs of Amy’s khaki pants. “Give her a chance. She may have changed.”
Casey scoffed. “If the way Amelia’s taken over the house is any indication, no, she hasn’t. Her stuff is everywhere.” Jamming her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt, Casey slunk further in her chair. “My bathroom now reeks of some flowery perfume that makes me sneeze every time I go in.”
“She does kind of apply a lot,” Amy said, with a grin. “But a stinky sister isn’t what’s really bothering you, is it?”
It was so like Amy to see to the heart of a matter. Casey groaned. “No, it isn’t.”
“Come on, tell me,” Amy cajoled.
“It’s just that article and…oh, I don’t know.” She hated to come across as whiney and ungrateful. How did she explain this growing discontentment gnawing away at her nicely ordered life?
It wasn’t even the fact that she was the brunt of so many jokes since that article came out—though the snickering was getting old. What bothered her most was that, deep inside she felt hollow, empty. Like something was missing.
Her gaze snagged on a framed photo of Amy and her late husband, Ben, and their two boys. What a beautiful family. They looked so happy.
That’s what Casey wanted. A family of her own. A love like Amy and Ben had shared. She held tight to the knowledge that their love proved love existed.
An uninvited memory escaped from the recesses of her mind and tore across her brain, reminding her that love came with a price. A price she’d paid once. A price that left her wounded and discouraged.
She slapped the memory down and stuffed it back into its box inside her head, and refocused on the grief of her friend’s loss.
Amy searched her face, as if she sensed her pain. “I’m sorry that article has caused you hurt.”
Casey waved away Amy’s self-imposed guilt. “I don’t blame you. And it’s really the truth. I’m ‘one of guys.’” She made air quotes to emphasize her words.
“A role that you’ve perpetuated. You keep everyone at arm’s length. I think it’s time for you to stop keeping yourself so isolated. Be open to a relationship.”
“But the risk is too great,” Casey murmured. She didn’t want to lose someone she loved again. She’d lost her parents, Uncle Patrick and, essentially, Amelia. Another name floated into her consciousness. She ignored it.
Amy gave her a sad, direct look and said softly, “I know. But the risk is worth it, Casey. I wouldn’t trade one single ounce of heartache if it meant not having ever loved Ben.”
Ouch. Direct hit. “Just rip my heart out and feed it to me, why don’t you, Amy?”
Amy’s lips twitched. “Hey, if you didn’t want the truth, you wouldn’t be sitting here.”
Casey sighed. “I know. You’ve never pulled any punches with me, and I appreciate it.”
“Jake Rodgers doesn’t think of you as ‘one of the guys,’” Amy stated, with a curving of her lips, as she mimicked Casey’s air quotes.
“Not yet, maybe, but give him time.” Casey rolled her eyes. “I’m not his type, anyway.”
“And you know this how?”
“He’s a city guy now, regardless that he was born here. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a beauty queen. Amelia’s more his type. Glamor and glitz. Besides,” Casey pointed out, “he’s a single dad trying to raise his daughter. What do I know about kids?”
Amy gave her a chiding look. “Casey, you’re great with kids. The boys love you. And you’ve dealt with children on several tours and did great, so don’t use his daughter as an excuse to keep him at arm’s length.”
“But I’m no good at the dating thing.” She cringed, remembering the last date she’d been on.
Bucky Holland, the town’s mechanic and one of the town’s many bachelors, had invited her to dinner at Martelli’s, a fancy grill in town. Casey had looked forward to the date with hopeful anticipation. Maybe this time a date would end differently.
But the evening had consisted of forced conversation and awkward silences. When he dropped her off and roared away in his big rig—faster than if a bear had been chasing him—she’d decided dating wasn’t her thing.
“Just be yourself, Casey. If a relationship with Jake or any other man is part of God’s plan for your life, then everything will work out, regardless of your sister or that article.”
Tugging on her bottom lip, Casey wished she shared Amy’s convictions. But trusting God was something Casey couldn’t do. Not ever again. A blast of anger blew through her. She’d trusted that God would answer her prayers and make Uncle Patrick well. God hadn’t. She’d trusted God to protect her heart when Seth came into her life. Another prayer ignored.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Amy called.
Rachel stepped inside. “The police chief is here to see you, Amy.”
“Tell Reed I’ll be a moment longer,” Amy said, her voice taking on a slight edge.
Anticipation? Or irritation?
When Rachel shut the door, Casey raised an eyebrow. “A social call?”
Amy brushed a lock of red hair back behind her ear. Beneath her smattering of freckles, a blush brightened her cheeks. “No. We don’t have that kind of relationship. I’m sure there’s some official reason he’s stopping by.”
Glancing at the photo on the desk, Casey knew Ben would want Amy to find love again. Rising from her seat, Casey said, “He’s a good man, Amy. Ben wouldn’t mind.”
Amy frowned, as a shadow of sorrow passed over her expression. “Now who’s ripping whose heart out?”
Casey held up her hands in a show of entreaty. “Sorry. Not another word.”
“Thank you.” Amy rose and rounded the desk, to put her arm around Casey’s shoulders. “It’s all going to work out. Be open to what God has in store for you.”
Casey hugged Amy for a moment, thankful to have such a wise and gracious friend. After Patrick died, Amy and her late husband had taken Casey under their wing. Casey would be forever grateful to Ben James for taking a chance and hiring her as a wilderness guide. She missed him, as did everyone in Treasure Creek. He’d been the mayor as well as the owner of Alaska’s Treasures.
His death had been a tragic accident. Ben had been trying to save the life of a client during a dangerous rapids trip and lost his life for the effort. Reed Truscott had witnessed the devastating event. Perhaps that was the tension Casey always sensed between Amy and Reed.
As Casey left Amy’s office, she glanced at her watch and decided she could still get a ten-mile run in before she went home. She met Reed in the hall. “Hey, Chief. Thank you for recommending me to Jake Rodgers.”
Reed nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t slow down. “No thanks necessary. You’ll be good for Jake.” He disappeared inside Amy’s office.
Okay. Not the most cordial person, but he got the job done. Just why did Chief Truscott think Casey would be good for Jake?
Casey opened the front door to the small A-frame house that she’d lived in since she’d first come to Alaska twenty-two years ago. To a little girl who’d just lost her parents, the house had seemed big and strange, so very different than her parents’ turn-of-the-century town house in the heart of San Francisco. Now the A-frame was comfortable, her safe haven.
At least it had been, until Amelia returned.
Casey stepped across the threshold to the darkened living room and tension crept up her neck. Had Amelia left as mysteriously as she’d returned?
A movement to her right jolted her system. She pivoted, prepared to defend herself against an attack. But none came.
She reached out to flip on the light switch. The table lamp by the couch glowed, throwing shadows around the room. Casey blinked as her eyes adjusted. Her sister sat in the rocker by the window.
A sense of déjà vu swept over Casey. Many times, when Casey and Uncle Patrick had returned from some adventure out in the wilderness, they would find Amelia quietly sitting in the rocker, waiting for them as she now waited for Casey. Casey had never understood why Amelia had chosen to stay home alone while she and Patrick went exploring.
Were those tears wetting her sister’s lashes? “Amelia? Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Amelia snapped, and rose from the chair to glide past Casey toward the kitchen. She wore a turquoise top with a matching skirt that flowed with each step. “Dinner is ready.”
Casey closed the front door and went to the sink to wash her hands. “Thanks for cooking. You know, you don’t have to take care of me.”
“I know I don’t have to,” Amelia said as she set on the table a plate with little canapés. “But what else is there to do in this town but cook? Besides, I didn’t make anything fancy, because your cupboards are pathetic.”
“I haven’t gone shopping this week.” Taking the seat opposite Amelia, Casey eyed the plate of crostini topped with pepperoni and stuffed olives. This was dinner? Casey’s stomach growled. “And there’s plenty to do.”
“Like?”
The ring of Amelia’s cell phone drew Casey’s attention. Amelia didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to pick up?”
Amelia made a face. “No.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Casey asked, wondering at her sister’s odd behavior.
“No.” Amelia made a rolling gesture with her hand. “You were saying what there was to do in town.”
Pursue Jake?
Not wanting to put that idea into Amelia’s head, Casey said, “You could browse the shops. Take a walk. Volunteer to help with the reunion committee.”
Amelia plucked a crostini from the plate and held it between her two fingers as if she were holding fine china. “Now, that sounds perfect for my skill set. Who do I talk to about helping with the committee?”
“Renee Haversham. I can introduce you when we get back from our backpacking trip.” Casey searched her sister’s face closely. In some ways it was like looking in a mirror, but not. To Casey, Amelia’s pale complexion was flawless, her eyes bluer and her features better proportioned. Was it any wonder people, men especially, gravitated to Amelia? “Unless you’ve changed your mind about going?”
“No, I haven’t.” Amelia peered at her just as closely. “You don’t want me to go, do you?”
Stalling as she tried to think how best to answer her twin, Casey popped a crostini into her mouth and chewed slowly. After she’d swallowed and taken a sip of water, she said, “It’s not that I don’t want you to go—I just can’t see you enjoying backpacking.”
With a shrug, Amelia said, “We’ll see. Having Jake Rodgers along should be interesting. I understand he’s available.” She rubbed her hands together. “One of those bachelors that magazine talked about.”
Casey’s stomach clenched, and it wasn’t from the spicy pepperoni. “He’s single.”
“Divorced,” she corrected. “And rich. Just the kind of guy I like.”
The speculative gleam in her twin’s gaze made Casey’s mouth go dry. She took a quick sip of water before saying, “Amelia, don’t play with Jake’s affections. He’s struggling right now to raise his daughter. He doesn’t need you coming on strong with no intention of following through.”
Amelia’s expression darkened. “How do you know I wouldn’t follow through?”
“You left a string of broken hearts behind when you charged out of Treasure Creek.” And who knew how many men she’d caught and thrown away in San Francisco? Every time Amelia called home, she’d spoken of someone new. “You never follow through. At least not when it comes to love.”
“Oh, and you’re some expert? When have you ever been in love?”
The barb hit home. “Seth Davenport,” Casey replied just a tad too defensively for her liking.
Amelia scoffed. “Right. You had one date with the nerd. That doesn’t qualify.”
It had been more than just one date. But Casey wasn’t about to share with her twin the intimate details of her disastrous romance, though she cringed to associate the nicety of romance with what had transpired between her and Seth.
Switching gears to keep the focus off herself, Casey said, “Why are you really home?”
Amelia arched one perfectly waxed eyebrow—her signature expression that drove Casey nuts. “Excuse me?”
Casey reached across the table and took Amelia’s hand. “Don’t pretend not to understand me. Why did you return home so early? And why were you crying when I came in?”
Her expression shut down as she extracted her hand from Casey’s hold. “I’ll leave if you don’t want me here.”
Frustration bounced around Casey’s chest. Amelia always did that—twisted Casey’s words around and used them against her. “I didn’t say that.”
“Good.” Amelia took her plate to the sink and began doing the dishes, leaving Casey’s questions un answered.
Her sister was hiding something. Casey wasn’t sure how to get Amelia to open up. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to try. Amy’s voice rang in her head, urging her to give Amelia a chance. They might grow closer. Maybe close enough for Amelia to confide in her. Because whatever Amelia wasn’t saying was upsetting her.
Chapter Three
“Welcome, everyone,” Casey said, her gaze roaming over the six people assembled in the prep room of Alaska’s Treasures tour company. Once word had gone out that another tour had opened slots, three more people signed up. An older married couple, newly retired to Treasure Creek, Doug and Marie Caruthers, and a freelance photojournalist, Stan Ford.
Casey’s gaze snagged on Jake. He wore a pale yellow-colored pullover sweater that heightened the darkness of his hair and eyes. Faded jeans hugged his long, lean legs. She met his gaze. He stared back with polite attention. But then his eyes seemed to darken and his mouth curved into a charming smile. Her pulse quickened, nearly making her lose her train of thought. She wondered what his face—his eyes—would look like across the warm light from a camp fire. Would he still look at her so intently? Could his interest ever be more than just guide and client? Did she want it, too?
Casey forced herself to keep her gaze moving. Jake’s daughter, on the other hand, made it clear by her crossed arms and bored expression that she wanted to be anywhere but here. Her fuzzy coat and bright-colored leggings wouldn’t work on this trip, but they certainly made her stand out from the crowd. Casey hoped the tall, strawberry-blonde and delicately pretty child would have the stamina to make the long journey. Casey would keep an extra-alert eye on Veronica.
“I’m Casey Donner, your guide for this tour. The emphasis of our trip will be making sure each of you garners the most enjoyment of your Alaska’s Treasures tour experience.”
She gestured to the long metal table behind her, where she’d laid out a backpack and everything that would need to go inside. “As you can see from the items on this table, there is a lot of equipment that will be brought with us. Goods and services included in your adventure are food, cooking equipment and safety gear. We spread the weight out through everyone’s backpacks so that no one person’s pack is too heavy.”
She picked up a stack of papers from the chair to her side. “Each of you will receive a packet with a checklist of the items you’ll need to provide for yourself. Give careful consideration to clothing. Fabrics that wick moisture away from the body and dry quickly are preferable. One thing you should keep in mind is how much hiking you’ll be doing, so good shoe wear is essential.”
“Will regular tennis shoes suffice?” Stan asked, as he lifted the camera slung around his neck and snapped off some pictures of Casey.
Disconcerted by the camera, Casey looked away as she answered. “I’d suggest hiking boots.”
“Like yours?” Marie asked, her green eyes wide, in a face lightly lined with age. She and her husband were in their sixties but could pass for much younger.
