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He arched one of his dark eyebrows at her in disbelief.
“I’ve sledded across the frozen Bering Sea in the middle of the winter with a team of dogs,” she informed him. “The air was so cold, my nose pinched together every time I took a breath. Some dust would have been a relief. I kept a scarf wrapped around my face. I was taking a medical group to the Russian side. It was bitter cold and storming.”
They’d almost died—would have done so with a less determined guide—but she had pulled them back to Nome through sheer will power. At that time in her life, she hadn’t been afraid of anything. Nurturing a bit of dry ranch land in Montana would be child’s play next to that.
Suddenly, Hunter reached down, picked up the gray Stetson sitting on the edge of the table and set it on his head. Then he looked at her. “You and I need to talk.”
He stepped around the table and motioned toward the door. “Joey will be fine in here with my grandfather—at least until he’s old enough to crack open his piggy bank. We’ll have some privacy on the porch.”
His voice was deep. The voice of a man in command of a situation. Hunter didn’t even look around as he walked toward the door. His back was ramrod-straight, his shoulders square and determined. Her grandmother had said the Jacobson men were all thieves, scoundrels and reprobates, without a conscience to guide any of them. She’d said it with a secret smile that Scarlett was just beginning to understand, though.
The Jacobson men were used to being able to enthrall women. Hunter probably thought he could give her some compliments and a couple of smiles and she would leave without the property she’d come to claim. Well, she wasn’t going to let this man stop her—even though she hadn’t exactly been subject to the compliment part so far.
She followed him anyway.
He opened the door for her and shut it after he stepped out. She frowned when she looked at the sky from the porch of the café. She knew storms and one was coming.
“How much money will it take to make you go away?” Hunter asked when they had both turned to each other. His gray eyes were cold as metal.
“Are you trying to pay me off?” she asked incredulously. He apparently didn’t feel he needed to waste any charm on her when cold hard cash would do. “Even more than my travel expenses?”
“If that’s what it takes. Yes.”
“I’m staying.”
A flash of lightning ripped across the sky and the crash of thunder followed close behind.
Hunter looked startled, but she figured he had his answer with celestial backup.
“And I don’t appreciate someone thinking I’m that flighty,” she added. “I know my own mind and it’s not for sale.”
“Flighty?” he asked with a smile that was almost charming. “I don’t think—”
She wasn’t ready to listen to any insincere apology.
“I need to return to Alaska on Monday, but I’ll be back with a loaded truck before you know it,” Scarlett promised. She resisted the urge to poke her finger at him even though she felt her breath catch at the thought. She had to admit he did have an appealing chest, one worthy of a king.
She reminded herself that she needed to make a decision about moving soon, but he didn’t need to know she was pressed for time. It wouldn’t be long before the Bering Sea would start to freeze over and she wouldn’t be able to send her belongings by ship down to Seattle. There were no roads that led to Nome, so driving out was not possible. Everything entered the small town by either ship or plane. The freight cost for even a portion of her household things would be several thousand dollars so she’d have to sell or give away most of what she had.
She decided he didn’t need to know any of that; he’d just try to argue her out of coming. She’d waited her whole life for a chance like this and she wasn’t going to back down now.
The porch had only a short overhang for a roof. She leaned back and looked up at the storm that seemed to have applauded her decision. Her triumph was cut short. Her breath felt short. And she was dizzy. She reached around for something to hold on to and found nothing but Hunter’s hand.
She almost didn’t take it and then she started to fall.
She wondered if he would catch her since he didn’t want her here in the first place.
Chapter Two (#ulink_de18ccd7-b977-52a5-ad7a-6ba712a1917b)
Scarlett stood on the porch, although not under her own power, and took a deep breath. Hunter had moved a step closer and now had his arm loosely around her, holding her in place. And if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, she wanted to walk away but couldn’t. She feared that she might sway and fall if she tried.
She was silent, concentrating on standing and watching the sky turn darker around them. She was going to ask Hunter about the coming storm, but she needed all of her breath still.
They remained quiet. Hunter was staring down the street as though he was gathering his thoughts, too. If he didn’t look so foreboding, she would wonder if he was shy. The asphalt beside the café sent up waves of heat, even in this breaking humidity. It was the only street in town although a few dirt roads branched off it.
“I didn’t have breakfast,” she finally admitted by way of explanation.
“Or dinner last night, I’d guess,” the man added as he turned her to face him. She could finally see his eyes and there was no threat in them. Mostly he just looked weary. Her ex-husband would be accusing her by now of being deliberately foolish in a bid for attention.
“I got something for Joey to eat.” She defended herself against the words he hadn’t spoken. “But we were running late and I wasn’t hungry.”
“Nervous most likely,” he said, a wry twist to his mouth. “And I expect I didn’t help when I gave you a hard time and demanded you leave.”
She felt his arm tighten briefly around her shoulders, almost as though he was giving her a hug in apology. She wished she could relax and sink into his arms to accept it, but she couldn’t. Most likely it was a trap.
“I survived,” Scarlett said quietly. She finally felt strong enough to take a step away and did so. There was a place in her life for softness, but it wasn’t in business and certainly was not in negotiations with a Jacobson.
She looked up and noticed something had shut down in Hunter’s eyes, but she couldn’t worry about that now.
“It’s the only option, you know,” he said finally. “My grandfather isn’t serious. You need to leave.”
“I don’t think I will.”
She needed a minute to steady herself and she’d prefer he didn’t know she was still weak. So she glanced at the street and looked at the dozen wooden-framed houses in various muted colors scattered up and down the road. Each one had a clothesline behind it and a few were in use with sheets hanging down. Her grandmother would like that, she thought. It was too cold most months in Nome to dry anything outside because wet clothes would freeze. She wondered when someone inside the house was going to notice that it was starting to rain and the sheets needed to be taken inside, but she supposed there was time yet. At the end of the street was the church she’d noticed earlier. Freshly painted white, it stood out like a beacon in the town. Several pickups, their mud flaps dirty, were parked next to it and she suspected there was some prayer meeting going on this morning. Her grandmother would like that, too.
For the first time since Scarlett had driven into Dry Creek, she realized how keyed up she had been. She hadn’t really relaxed and looked around until now. She liked what she saw. The town was lived in but not fancy. Even the church, though obviously well kept, wasn’t intimidating. There were a couple of willow trees in the fenced yards of a few houses, but there were no lawns, although she did see an old ceramic garden troll standing on the ground beside someone’s door. Dried tufts of grass stuck out from the dirt randomly in yards and wild areas alike. She didn’t see any tumbleweeds, but it looked like the place to find them later in the fall.
Everything was worn; the vehicles by the café were obviously used.
“Which one is yours?” she asked, and Hunter turned to her.
She pointed at the pickups.
“The black one with the scrape on the front fender,” he answered, looking at her. “Got it when I patched some fence in the back pasture. I had to get the barbed wire up quick because we were moving a herd of cattle the next day—Red Angus. They manage to find their way out of any place where the fence wire sags.”
She nodded. She could hear the satisfaction in his voice. He didn’t sound like a wealthy man who did nothing but oversee ranch hands and attend auctions. Her grandmother had insisted they must be living the high life somewhere. The older woman had always claimed Colin had gotten rich off selling the mine. As it turns out, he’d kept the deed.
“You’ve seen the cat that’s riding along in my pickup today,” Hunter said. “Joey might like to play with her later. She’s not a dog, but she’s a good cat.”
“Do you have any other pets?” Scarlett asked.
“No. And the cats aren’t pets. They keep the barn mice away.”
“Oh.”
“I think they’d feel demoted if they were called pets,” he offered then with a grin. “They’re pretty independent. Working animals like the milk cow.”
Scarlett decided her grandmother had been wrong about the wealth of this family. Besides, local history told her there had been no big gold strikes in the years the elder Jacobson had been there. Maybe it was just her grandmother’s recollections. She had talked about Colin sometimes and always with an odd look on her face, as if she remembered him as bigger than life. And as though she still expected him to come back—maybe even hoped he would.
The Murphy women were all fools when it came to men, Scarlett told herself in disgust, trying to shake off her mood. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Regardless of what her grandmother felt and how much money Colin had or didn’t have, the payment due her family was legitimate. The Jacobsons owed them. And she intended to collect.
Her vision was still a touch blurry and she licked her lips for the moisture. She put her hand up to her forehead. She’d had too much heat as well as too little food. No one had told her that the only car left on the lot in Billings was the last to be rented because the air conditioner didn’t work. Of course, it would not have made any difference if she had known. She would have taken it; she’d had to get here and she would have traveled in an ox cart to do it if necessary.
They were quiet for another moment and Scarlett told herself she was okay. She felt better out in the open air instead of inside the café.
“My grandfather is a cheat,” Hunter finally confessed as he stood there looking down the street with her again. “I don’t like it, but there you have it.”
He turned sideways to look at her, faint embarrassment on his face. He was obviously reluctant to admit what he had told her.
“And you?”
“People treat us like we all are crooks. The whole family,” he added. “But my brothers and I aren’t.”
She tried to answer, but she couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t work.
“I thought you should know,” he added, and she saw his eyes suddenly narrow.
Scarlett swayed then and the porch started to spin. She tried to blink the fuzziness away, but it didn’t leave. She reached out to steady herself but there was nothing there again except the man’s arm. She clutched him.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Hunter asked as he moved in to catch her.
It took her some time to catch her breath.
“Of course I am,” she finally managed to say. She still held his arm, but she told herself it wasn’t necessary. “I’m a Murphy.”
She had gladly taken back her maiden name after her divorce.
Hunter’s cotton shirtsleeve hid hard cords of muscle in his forearm and he kept her upright with no visible effort. She felt the muscles flex as he moved to better support her.
“How hot was it in that car of yours?”
She kept herself upright long enough to glare at him.
“I’m fine.”
He grunted in disbelief, turning her slightly and guiding her toward a weathered wooden stool that sat on the edge of the porch. She hadn’t noticed the paint-spattered thing until now, it blended so well with everything around it. For a moment she saw the legendary Jacobson charm her grandmother had spoken about. Hunter had a fine growth of black whiskers on his chiseled face. His scars were lighter when not in the direct sun. His eyes held a knowing sympathy. His lips were smiling. His manner beckoned her toward him.
She sat and he went to his pickup, coming back with a bottle of water and a nut bar of some kind. “Here. Drink and eat.”
She did so and she felt better.
“You need water in this kind of heat,” he said.
She nodded.
“Soda doesn’t work,” he added.
A few minutes later she stood. She wasn’t going to lose out on the chance to claim this land for her family just because she had a little problem with dizziness. Hunter kept looking at her anxiously, though, and he had his hand out to catch her if she should fall.
“Careful now,” he said.
“I’m fine. Strong, too. I’ll be able to work that farm your grandfather has for us.”
“I’ll admit I think you could do it,” he said, facing her and then taking a breath. “But you won’t have the chance. My grandfather can’t be trusted with a contract. Something is wrong with it even if we don’t know what it is yet.”
He kept his voice so low she had to lean closer to hear. She half thought he’d said that about her being able to do it just to sweeten her up for the rest. His dark eyes looked serious in the shadow of his hat brim.
He could be lying, though.
“If your grandfather is such a cheat, why isn’t he in jail?” she asked.
“One of these days he’s going to step over the line and I won’t be able to bail him out. Then he will be. I don’t know what we’ll do then.”
Something about the tone of his voice made her suspect he was telling the truth. She heard his reluctance and his shame. This was hard for him.
“It could even be today,” Hunter added.
Scarlett pondered that for a moment. “I don’t see how. I’m not paying him anything for the land. I read the contract he sent. It sounded solid. I even had my baby sister, Carly, who’s a paralegal—well, almost a paralegal—take a look at it and she thought it was fine. My other sister, Fiona, thought it looked good, too. She’s taken over my wilderness guide business, so she knows contracts. It’s hard to cheat when everything is laid out in black-and-white. Besides, I don’t trust anyone these days, so I can’t be taken in.”
He grunted. “You should have your attorney look at something like that. People can twist things and still be legal. You need to protect yourself.”
She didn’t say anything.
“You mentioned that you had an attorney,” he reminded her. “At least you said you’d sue.”
“I was bluffing.”
“You need to get one, then.”
“Attorneys cost money.” Scarlett felt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t meant to tell him she was broke, but she supposed she had.
“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” Hunter replied and then looked down. “Things like this never turn out good with my grandfather involved.”
“He seems like a nice old man,” she said. “Looks a lot like Santa Claus.”
“He could look like the Easter bunny,” Hunter agreed, his voice sounding tired, but at least he was making eye contact with her again. “Doesn’t mean he can hop worth beans. He is a nice man, but he should stay home and...and play solitaire or something. He’s past ninety. What’s he doing things like this for?”
Scarlett suddenly felt a jolt of empathy for Hunter. He was worried about his grandfather doing himself harm. She knew how that felt after her concerns about her grandmother. The older woman no longer listened to reason, either, but Scarlett had to try. When children lost their parents and were raised by their grandparents, the older ones were everything to them. She would have reached over and touched Hunter’s arm in understanding, but he was staring past her, down the road again.
“My granny told me to watch my step around your grandfather,” she said to comfort him. “That if he couldn’t sweet-talk me out of something, he’d trick me into giving it to him. But I’m not going to let him have a chance to do either. A person has to trust the con man before she can be swindled and I don’t trust anyone but my grandmother—and maybe my two sisters.”
Hunter looked at her for a moment, his eyes changing from caution to astonishment.
“You have to trust more people than that,” he finally said. “Believe me, I’ve tried—” He stopped and took a breath. “What I mean is that you have neighbors. Friends. A woman needs—”
She shook her head. “Being a woman has nothing to do with it. I don’t see why I need to trust anyone.”
“Being a mother means you do, though,” he said. Then he paused for a minute, just looking at her.
