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Man or woman, clearly the rider was insane. Insane and possibly suffering from frostbite.
Zoey cleared her throat as she took in the rider’s broad shoulders and powerful build. Male. Most definitely. “Can I help you?”
The masked man swiveled his head in her direction.
Masked man? Really, Zoey...get a grip. He’s not a superhero. Although all the black reminded her vaguely of Batman.
The Dark Knight lifted the helmet from his head. A fleece neck gaiter—black, of course—was pulled up over his mouth and nose, revealing nothing but a pair of frosty gray-blue eyes set below a head full of wildly disheveled dark hair.
He didn’t look at all familiar. First the reindeer, and now a dangerous-looking biker. What else had Gus been hiding up here?
“I said, can I help you?” Zoey repeated, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to look authoritative. This was her reindeer farm, after all, even though she’d yet to lay eyes on a single antler.
Mystery Man gave Zoey a cursory once-over before pulling down the gaiter and exposing the rest of his face—high, sculpted cheekbones, an ultrastraight nose and a square jaw so firmly set that he looked as though he made a regular practice of grinding coal into diamonds with his teeth.
His gaze flitted to Anya briefly and settled once again on Zoey. “That depends.”
“Depends?” She unzipped her parka a smidgen. Her neck was growing warm for some strange reason. “Depends on what?”
“You’re not the new owner of this place, are you?” He lifted a single, threatening eyebrow.
She lifted her chin. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Well, it’s about time,” he seethed.
Zoey’s mouth dropped open. Who was this guy? “Excuse me?”
“Perhaps introductions are in order.” Anya stepped between them.
Zoey sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Anya’s presence. Facing the irritable Man in Black wasn’t exactly something she would have liked to do alone. Not that she was afraid of him. She’d certainly faced more frightening things than a biker in the wilds of Alaska. He was just a bit intense. And she still had no clue what he was doing on her reindeer farm, acting as if he owned the place.
Anya thrust a mittened hand at him. “I’m Anya Parker, and this is Zoey Hathaway. And you are?”
He pulled off one of his gloves and shook Anya’s hand. “Alec Wynn.”
His gazed shifted back to Zoey. She reached for his hand and shook it. It was surprisingly warm given his chosen method of transportation.
“Hi, Alec,” she said, offering him a polite smile. Perhaps they’d simply gotten off on the wrong foot.
He smiled right back at her. Even his smile possessed an edge. “You owe me a thousand dollars.”
Um...what?
She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
Alec’s smile faded as he crossed his arms and leaned back on the seat of his bike, apparently waiting for her to say something. Or whip out her checkbook.
Zoey’s throat grew thick. “Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding...”
“Nope. No misunderstanding.” He shook his head. “This is your reindeer farm, is it not?”
“Well...” She glanced at Anya, who could do nothing but shrug, then back at Alec. Zoey still had no clue who he actually was, other than a purported creditor. “...yes. But I’ve only owned it for a day. Less than twenty-four hours, actually.”
She couldn’t possibly owe him a thousand dollars. For starters, she didn’t have that kind of money.
Technically, she did, she supposed. But that money was part of the down payment for the airplane she was buying in five days. The airplane that was to be the start of her new career as a professional pilot. She’d worked eight years as a barista, scrimping and saving for that down payment. It took a lot of lattes to buy a plane, even a small one.
Her plane money was off-limits. She’d already given notice at the coffee bar. Next Monday was to be her first official day as a charter pilot, and she couldn’t very well fly without an airplane.
Alec’s gaze narrowed. He was looking less and less like a superhero with each passing second. “Twenty-four hours?”
“Thereabouts.” She glanced at Anya again, eliciting a hearty nod of agreement.
“Maybe you could provide Zoey with some background information,” Anya said.
“Yes. Background information would be delightful,” Zoey muttered under her breath.
At least she’d thought it was under her breath. The storm clouds gathering in Alec’s eyes told her differently. “As I said before, my name is Alec Wynn. I work here. For you, apparently.”
So she’d inherited both a reindeer farm and a surly man on a Harley. Perfect. “How odd.”
“Odd?” He angled his head, and a lock of unruly hair fell across his forehead.
Why am I looking at his hair? Surely that violated some sort of employer/employee boundary line. But how would she know? She’d never been anyone’s boss before. “Yes. I mean, what exactly do you do for Gus? I mean, me.”
This was beyond surreal. If her nose wasn’t so cold, she’d wonder if she were dreaming.
“I care for the reindeer,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And generally keep things running around here.”
“Aurora’s a small town. I’ve never laid eyes on you before. Where have you been hiding yourself?”
“I’ve only worked here a week. I spent my first day on the job giving my employer CPR. Unsuccessfully.” Alec’s gaze dropped to his hands. He paused a beat before continuing. “And now I’ve been feeding a herd of reindeer—on my dime—while I wait around to see what’s to become of this place. So, forgive me if I haven’t had time to make the social rounds.”
Oh.
Oh...
So Alec had been the one to find Gus. This was new information. And it softened Zoey toward him a bit, even though she still thought him awfully demanding. And difficult. Couldn’t he have mentioned this right off the bat? “I’m sorry.”
He looked back up. Some of the tension had left his eyes, leaving a hint of pain in its place. “I’m sorry, too. For your loss. Are you his daughter?”
“Oh, no. I’m not family. Gus was my flight instructor.” She swallowed. “And my friend.”
His brow furrowed. “I see.” Clearly, he didn’t.
Which was fine. Zoey didn’t really understand it herself.
“So, this thousand dollars,” Anya said, directing them back to the matter at hand. “Is it your salary?”
Surely not. A thousand dollars a week? To feed a couple of reindeer? Although performing CPR was probably above and beyond the call of duty.
“No. Gus paid me a month up front because I moved here from Washington to take the job.”
For the first time, Zoey noticed the Washington State license plate on the motorcycle. She wondered if he’d actually ridden the thing all the way up through snow-covered Canada. It didn’t seem feasible.
Alec continued. “I’m out a fair bit now for reindeer food, hay and other incidentals. I can provide receipts.”
A fair bit. Lord, please don’t let it be even more than a thousand dollars. “How much do they eat? A thousand dollars is a lot of money.”
He shrugged. “You’ve got a lot of reindeer.”
Zoey grew very still. The snowflakes swirling around them seemed to move in slow motion. “I do?”
At long last, Alec Wynn smiled—a slight lift of one corner of his lips. It was the subtlest of gestures, but just lethal enough to uncurl a ribbon of dread in Zoey’s belly. “Yes, ma’am. You certainly do.”
* * *
Alec watched the color drain from Zoey’s face. The pink in her wind-kissed complexion faded right before his eyes.
“How many, exactly?” she asked.
There was really no way to sugarcoat it. And anyway, Alec believed in telling things like they were. “Thirty.”
“Thirty?” she echoed. She exchanged a glance with her friend—Anya, if Alec remembered correctly—who’d been watching their exchange with what appeared to be keen interest. “Thirty!”
“Give or take,” he added.
Zoey’s gaze narrowed. She had lovely eyes. If Alec had been the romantic sort—and he most definitely was not—they probably would have reminded him of the moss-covered Sitka spruce trees that shaded the Olympic Forest back in Washington. “You mean, you don’t know?”
“Of course I know.” He lifted an irritated brow. “It’s thirty. Usually. Palmer, one of the boys, keeps escaping. When he decides to grace us with his presence, it’s thirty-one.”
Anya snickered, failing in her obvious attempt not to laugh. “Zoey, you’ve inherited a rogue reindeer.”
Zoey’s mouth fell open. “This really isn’t funny. What am I supposed to do with thirty-sometimes-thirty-one reindeer?”
Alec felt as if he should comfort her or something, which was ludicrous. What was he supposed to say? Sorry about your charmed life, sweetheart.
She looked as though she might faint dead away. He really hoped she didn’t. His last attempts to revive someone hadn’t worked out so well. Then again, that shouldn’t have come as a shock. Sometimes it seemed as if everything he touched turned to ruin. Why should Alaska be any different?
All he’d wanted was a fresh start. He’d been looking for a new beginning all his life. Was that really too much to ask?
Apparently so.
He’d driven his bike more than two thousand miles in four days to get here, only to find himself holding the lifeless body of Gus Henderson within a day of his arrival.
He balled his hands into fists and pounded them against his thighs in an effort to shake off the memory. As bad as things in his life had been—and they’d been plenty bad—he’d never held a dying man in his arms before. It wasn’t an event he cared to repeat. Ever.
“Zoey, take a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine.” Anya wrapped an arm around Zoey’s shoulders. “Why don’t I call the lawyer and see if we can get to the bottom of this?”
Zoey gave a robotic nod. “That sounds good. Thank you.”
“His number is on the paper work in the car. I’ll go give him a call. Alec, it was nice meeting you. Welcome to Alaska.” Anya waved at him and headed toward the SUV parked on the edge of the street.
Relief, mixed with a healthy dose of annoyance, had washed over Alec when he’d first spotted the unfamiliar vehicle. The new owner had shown up. Finally. For nearly a week, he’d been muddling his way through things until someone who knew what they were doing decided to join him.
Alec glanced at Zoey Hathaway standing beside him. Clearly, she didn’t know the first thing about reindeer. He couldn’t help but wonder about her relationship with Gus. Judging by the shock etched on her delicate features, she’d never set foot on the ranch before. It should have seemed strange for a student to inherit her flight instructor’s property like this. Should have, but didn’t. Not really. Zoey seemed exactly like the sort of person who skipped through life as though it were a cakewalk.
She was pretty. Long, silky blond hair...and those luminous green eyes. Even out here where the temperature dipped below twenty degrees, she was perfectly put together. She wore fur-trimmed boots, black leggings and a cheery red parka. Her winter hat was also red, decorated with—irony of ironies—prancing reindeer.
Everything about her was sweet. Too sweet. Like the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus all rolled into one perky package.
And now she was his boss.
The very idea gave him a headache.
It wasn’t a cruel enough twist of fate that he’d ended up on a reindeer farm? Four weeks before Christmas? The ad he’d answered on Craigslist for a ranch hand never mentioned reindeer. Granted, the work was in Alaska. But he’d expected horses. Or elk. Not Rudolph.
How did a boy who’d never had a Christmas tree, never sat on Santa’s knee, grow into a man who lived on a reindeer farm in Alaska?
He pushed the thought away. He was here now, so he might as well deal with it. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not without the money he was owed. “Shall I show you?”
Zoey snapped out of her daze and blinked up at him. “The reindeer?”
“Yes. Would you like to see them?”
She nodded. “Very much.”
With a flick of his wrist, he cranked the motorcycle to life. “Hop on.”
“On that thing?” She frowned at the bike.
“We’re driving all of fifty feet. You’re not scared, are you?” He offered her his helmet.
She jerked it out of his hand. “Please. Of course not.”
He watched her as she removed her hat and replaced it with the helmet. It was far too big. Alec did his best to suppress his amused grin. Something told him now was definitely not the time to laugh at her.
He scooted forward on the seat of the bike, making room for her behind him. Zoey swung her leg over and situated herself on the seat. Alec waited for her to clasp her arms around his waist or, at the very least, grab hold of his parka.
Nothing happened.
He glanced over his shoulder. “You might want to hang on. You can wrap your arms around me. I won’t bite.”
He couldn’t see a thing through the face shield of the helmet, but he would have bet she was rolling her eyes.
“I’ve known you all of five minutes,” she said.
“Suit yourself.” He released the clutch, and the tires rolled and crunched over the snow.
