Dale’s eyebrows arched in victory. “Maybe it’ll be over there.” He pointed to a booth in the corner of the tavern.
“Fine.”
“6:00?”
“Also fine. I’ll meet you here. I’ve got to spend time in the library tomorrow, gathering facts and such for my article.”
“Your article, right,” Dale said.
“I really have an article, Dale. You answered all those questions for it.” I finished the last bite of cake. “I did not look you up on the Internet as you suggested, and I am not here because you said to just come. I’m here on business only.”
“Whatever you say, Gaia-girl.” He attempted a serious face but wasn’t successful.
I was about to protest, but Jerry came from the kitchen toting a brown bag. “Here you go, Dale.”
“Thanks, Uncle Jerry.” Dale shrugged back into his coat as Jerry placed the bag on the bar.
“Didn’t bring any of the kids with you tonight?” Jerry craned his head to look over the bar.
Kids. No. He couldn’t have any kids. Could he? He never mentioned kids in his emails. So what if he did. What did I care?
“Gypsy’s here.” Dale snapped his fingers and patted his thigh. A well-shaped thigh encased in dark denim. Within seconds, the wolf-like dog from the poster trotted from the alcove by the front door. She was mostly black, with splotches of white around the neck and face. Her muzzle was black, and bright blue eyes looked at me as she sat on her haunches right beside Dale. She didn’t make a sound. Didn’t growl at me. Didn’t whimper at what might be in the bag Dale held.
“Wow. She’s wonderful,” I said.
“She’s a champ.” Dale leaned down and scratched between the dog’s ears. The blue eyes disappeared for a moment as Gypsy enjoyed the massage. She nuzzled Dale’s leg with her nose and then looked at me.
“I think she’s telling me you belong to her.”
“Gypsy and I have spent many a Friday night alone together. Not to mention freezing our asses off out on the trails together,” Dale joked. “She’s entitled to be a little possessive.”
I left money on the bar and put on my coat. Ram worked his way back over to us. “You guys leaving?” He looked downright sad about the idea.
“I’ve got to get started on my article.”
“She’ll be back tomorrow night though,” Dale added. “To see me.”
Ram turned his lips down into a sad face. “And I thought you were going to marry me for my chicken wings, Alanna.”
“I still might. Depends on what else you’ve got hiding in that kitchen.”
“I’ve got me plenty of tricks.” Ram’s face brightened. “I’ll whip up something special for you two tomorrow.” He extended his hand over the bar to me. I reached across to take it, and Ram brought my hand to his lips. “Fair Alanna, ever so lovely to meet you this evening.”
“Likewise. You made me feel right at home, Ram. Plus, you didn’t let me choke on cake.”
Ram roared with laughter, and, when I looked at Dale, he was chuckling too. Gypsy studied me with steel blue eyes, sizing me up, but then, on Dale’s command, the dog lifted a paw and waved.
“Walk you out?” Dale asked.
“Sure. Bye, Ram. Thanks again.”
“Bye. See you both tomorrow.” He emphasized the word
both
as if he were secretly congratulating his son on his fresh catch.
Saw right through him.
I zipped my coat, pulled on my hat, and stuffed my hands into my gloves. The prospect of going outside was not one I looked forward to. I thought of the weather in New York right now and missed home. Then I looked at the way Dale’s jeans fit from behind. Perhaps I wasn’t that homesick. Hadn’t seen a view like that in New York for a while. I’m sure they were there. I just hadn’t been looking.
Dale held the door open, and Gypsy trotted out before me. I followed behind the dog, the wind whipping me as I arrived at the front step. I paused for a moment, all my muscles tightening against the cold.
“What’s the matter, city girl? Too icy for ya?” Dale’s warm breath at my ear sent a jolt through me. His close proximity did more to heat me than all my layers of clothing.
“No, Mr. Iditarod. I merely haven’t adjusted yet.”
“We’ll make an Alaskan out of you in no time.”
“You only have two weeks.” Why did that seem too short now?
“No problem.” Dale stopped at a shiny, black pick-up truck parked next to my rented Explorer. He opened the passenger side door and pointed to the seat. In one smooth movement, Gypsy jumped into the cab.
“She always that cooperative?” I asked, admiring the dog’s discipline.
“Yep. Gypsy’s a good girl.” Dale’s voice lowered as he vigorously rubbed under the dog’s chin. “She’s my lead dog. She listens to me, and the other dogs listen to her.”
Impressive. Both dog and man. Dale closed the truck door and leaned against the bed to face me.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing,” I said, embarrassed that he caught me examining him. Checking him out if we were going to get technical. “Am I what you pictured?”
“Exactly.” He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets.
“Really?”
“Really. The hair, the eyes, the body.” He let his eyes sweep over me. Normally I would have been disgusted by such a move, but for some reason I didn’t mind him doing it. “What about me?”
I turned to unlock my car door. I opened it and climbed inside. “I’d say I’ve seen better, but I’d be lying. See you tomorrow, Dale Ramsden, Junior.”
I closed my door and started the Explorer. After giving Dale a little wave, I backed out of the parking space and turned onto Main Street. In my rearview, Dale watched me.
Damn, he had a good face.
****
Finding the library was easy thanks to Bear’s expert directions. What the man lacked in social skills, he made up for in giving accurate coordinates.
“Out the drive. Bang a right. About six miles down, take a left. Library’s the brick building.” When Bear finished speaking, he simply turned his back to me and resumed reading his newspaper. The man seemed both out of place and perfect for the Moose Point Resort. He wasn’t welcoming, as a hotel employee should be, but his laid back, flannel-shirt personality fit the look of the oversized log cabin. Still kind of scared me though.
“Thanks.”
Bear simply nodded as he shuffled his newspaper to another section. I stuffed my laptop into my bag with my notebook and hauled the bag onto my shoulder. Bundled again into my winter attire, I braced myself for the cold slap of air that waited for me on the other side of the door. My hiking boots crunched over the sanded pathway as I jogged to the car in the dark. Couldn’t be doing this article in the summer when the sun doesn’t set until ten, eleven o’clock at night. No. I get sent during the tail end of winter.
I hopped into the car, drove down the driveway, and caught myself looking to the left. Toward Ram’s Den. After a restless night’s sleep, thinking of Dale mostly, I hoped the day would pass quickly. Didn’t want to rush through my time in Alaska, but I had to admit I did want to see Dale again. Charged with the image of his face in my memory, I vowed to make the day productive so I wouldn’t feel guilty taking some hours off tonight to…play.
I arrived in front of the library, which was right where Bear said it would be. As I walked to the front door, I got that tingle I always got when I was about to encounter stacks of books. Books on any topic I wanted. The possibilities were endless. If I didn’t focus, I could be led off track in a library. I once wasted an entire afternoon reading about Sacagawea simply because I’d passed a book on display about her. Had to stay up all night to finish my article that night, but it was worth it. I can answer all the Sacagawea questions on Jeopardy now.
As soon as I walked into the library, an older woman greeted me. Her silver hair was pulled back and coiled into a complicated looking knot at the back of her head. She had a pencil stuffed into the knot. She whipped it out like a samurai, scratched something on a piece of paper, and then sheathed it in her coif. All that without ever looking away from me.
“Hello, dear. What can I help you find?” Her blue eyes were so bright and friendly, so welcoming.
“I’m writing an article on Denali and the wildlife there. Looking to do a little research before I visit the park.” I set my bag on the circulation desk and took a quick look around. I appeared to be the only visitor. The local library I frequented in New York was usually louder inside than Times Square on New Year’s Eve. In this library, I could hear the librarian’s heartbeat.
“Oh, you’re going to love Denali. It’s tough in the winter, but still breathtaking.” She beamed from ear to ear with pride in her homeland. “Where are you from, dear?”
“New York.”
The librarian put on a pair of reading glasses, and her fingers flew over the keyboard on a computer beside her.
“I’m Alanna Cormac.”
“Gwen Breck. Give me a minute.” She raised her head to look through the narrow lenses of the glasses and finished whatever she had been working on before I came in. “Okay, the Denali books are this way.”
She walked around to my side of the circulation desk and gestured with her finger for me to follow her. I grabbed my bag and trailed after her. In the center of the library, a room sported a huge stone fireplace. It stopped me in my tracks.
“Nice one, isn’t it?” Gwen backtracked to stand beside me. “Do you plan to be here long?”
“Most of the day.”
“I’ll get Davey to fire it up then.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to be any trouble.” My eyes lingered on that fireplace for a few more seconds, though.
“It won’t be any trouble, Alanna,” Gwen said. “Davey’s probably asleep in the medieval books section. Slow day today, and he always naps in the medieval books section. He
will
start a fire for you.” She arched her brows as if she were going to enjoy making Davey start a fire for me.
“Here we are. Denali in books.” Gwen fanned her hands out to a large section of books. “They pale in comparison to the real thing, though.”
“I’ll bet.” I wandered toward the shelves and ran my fingers along the bindings. “Thanks for your help.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Take what you want and go to the center room to work. Would you like tea?”
“As long as it isn’t any trouble.” I grinned.
“No trouble at all.” Gwen shuffled away and a few moments later, an overhead announcement sounded. “Davey to circulation. Davey to circulation.”
Kneeling beside the first shelf in the Denali section, I read the titles and selected a few photo journals on the park, several on Mount McKinley, and three others on the wildlife of Denali. Many other books called to me, but my arms were already filled.
Balancing the books and toting my bag, I made my way back to the fireplace room where a man who looked to be about Gwen’s age squatted by the hearthstone. As he piled fresh wood into the fireplace, he whistled a light, upbeat tune. He struck a match, and the kindling he had layered beneath the logs flared. Taking a step back, the man admired his work. When a book dropped from my arms, he whirled around with wide eyes.
“Hi there,” he said with the same cheeriness Gwen had.
“Hi.” I bent awkwardly to pick up the book.
“Let me get that.” The man ambled over to me and swiped the book off the ground. He set it on a table next to a deep, leather upholstered chair facing the fireplace.
“Thanks. Hope you weren’t disturbed lighting that fire.”
“Naw,” the man said. “Davey.” He extended his hand to me, and I dumped the rest of the books on the table.
“Alanna.”
“If I know my wife, she said I was sleeping in the medieval section, which I wasn’t.” He rocked back on the heels of his boots.
“I didn’t believe it for a moment.” I walked toward the warmth of the fire. By this time, a large blaze snapped and popped almost musically.
“I only sleep in the medieval section on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Laughter erupted from me. Davey joined in and causally poked at the fire. “Dare I ask where you sleep on the other days?”
“Wednesdays and Fridays are in the woodworking section. Saturdays are in the Children’s Room where they have the good cartoon books. Sundays, I nap at home, because the library’s closed and Mondays, today, I snooze amongst accounting textbooks.”
“Accounting textbooks? That’ll surely put you to sleep.”
“Nearly killed me.” Davey rolled his brown eyes. “Is this fire okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Good luck with your research. I’ll come by in a little while to check on the fire.”
Davey saluted me and slipped out of the room. I sank into the leather chair and dug out my laptop. As it powered up, I flipped through the first book in my pile. The photos drew me in right away. Moose, looking majestic with a picturesque mountain background, stared from the page. The gentle breeze swaying the tall grasses surrounding the moose nearly ruffled my own hair.
“Here’s your tea, dear.” I jumped at the sound of Gwen’s voice behind me. “I’m sorry, Alanna. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I guess this picture hypnotized me or something.”
“Oh, Denali will do that to ya. It’s got a magic all its own. It’s where Mother Nature herself calls home. That’s what I think anyway.” Gwen set down a mug. A husky stared at me from one side of the mug, the words “Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race” emblazoned across the other side.
Raising an eyebrow at Gwen, I said, “You a fan?”
Gwen’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Never miss it. I’ve seen every Iditarod race since I was five years old.”
“What do you know of this year’s winner?” Slippery, I know, to ask this poor woman for information on Dale, but he could still be a serial killer. I slid my hand into my jeans’ pocket and fingered the multi-tool Meg had made me promise to carry at all times while in Alaska.
“Dale Junior deserved every bit of his win this year. That boy knows how to work hard, and you should see how he takes care of those dogs of his. He’ll make some woman happy if he takes care of her like he does those dogs. Trouble is, he never dates.”
“Never?” Interesting. I’d think someone as smooth as he was in the tavern last night would have dates all the time.