Midnight Sons Volume 2 (23 page)

When her name was finally called, she followed the nurse to the cubicle and sat on a molded plastic chair. Considering what this appointment cost, she’d think Dr. Perry could at least afford a decent chair.

The nurse, Mrs. Webster, according to her nameplate, read over the questionnaire Karen had completed earlier. “It says here you haven’t been feeling well.”

“Yes,” Karen responded crisply. “I think it might be the smog.”

“The smog.” Mrs. Webster made a notation on the chart.

“You see, I’m from Alaska. I’ve never been exposed to smog before. My lungs don’t like it.”

“I don’t imagine they do.”

“I believe it’s affecting my general health. I just feel crummy.” Although she felt fine at the moment, Karen found herself battling back tears. “And I—I seem to have developed the ability to weep at nothing.”

Mrs. Webster’s eyes searched out hers. “Oh?”

Karen fumbled in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose. “I tear up at the most ludicrous things. I can’t tell you how embarrassing it is.”

“You miss Alaska?”

“Yes…no. I don’t want to go back…I mean I do, I really do, but I can’t. You see, I accepted this promotion, and Paragon, the company I work for, moved me here.” She stopped and blew her nose a second time. “Sorry.”

“Let’s go back to the part about not feeling well. Do you have any other symptoms the doctor should know about?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”

Mrs. Webster walked over to the drawer and took out some medical instruments. “I’m sure Dr. Perry’s going to want a blood sample.”

“Fine.” She held out her arm for the nurse. “I feel sluggish. That’s one of my symptoms,” she clarified. “I wake up in the morning and I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“I’ll mention that to the doctor.”

“Do you think it might be the smog?” she asked hopefully, watching the older woman.

“I don’t know. I’ll let the doctor decide. But we’ve recently seen several people with low-grade flu symptoms.”

That was reassuring. Maybe all she had was a simple case of the flu.

Ten minutes later, after the nurse had taken some blood and
Karen had changed out of her clothes and into a flimsy paper gown, she met Dr. Perry. He was much younger than she’d expected. Early thirties, if that.

“Hello, Karen,” he said. His voice was kindly.

“Hi.” She felt more than a little ridiculous in her blue paper outfit.

While she tucked the gown more securely under her thighs, Dr. Perry read her chart. “I understand you haven’t been feeling like your usual self lately.”

“No. As I told your nurse, I think it must be the smog.”

“Tired. Sluggish. Weepy.”

“Yes, all those things.”

He glanced up from the chart and held her gaze.

“Mrs. Webster said there’s a low-grade flu going around,” she suggested.

“Yes,” Dr. Perry agreed, “but this sounds like something else. Tell me, Karen, is there any possibility you could be pregnant?”

June 1996

Matt stood in the main room of the lodge and handed Lanni the glossy brochure he’d produced. He studied her closely, eager for his sister’s response. Since Lanni was a writer, he’d gone to her for advice about the text and even the design. Now the brochure was ready to mail out.

“Matt, this is really great!”

“Yeah, it looks good, but does it make you want to spend several thousand dollars to fly to northern Alaska?”

“Sure,” she said.

Matt remained unconvinced. “What about the section on dogsledding?”

“I think it’s a good idea.” But her enthusiasm sounded forced, and when she hesitated, Matt wondered if she was going to be honest or just tell him what she thought he wanted to hear.

“Do you really believe people want to learn how to run a dog team?” she asked after an awkward moment.

“Positive. It’s becoming very popular. Men, and plenty of women, too, are looking for more than relaxation when they take their vacations.” He strived to keep his voice calm and matter-of-fact. “They want adventure. Sure, lounging on a beach might sound good, but after two or three days most folks with A-type personalities are bored to tears. The people who can afford this kind of vacation are generally professional people who’re driven to succeed. Always looking for new challenges. I’m offering them something unique.”

Lanni grinned. “I’ll say. But city folks aren’t going to know how to harness dogs or hitch them to a sled.”

“That’s where the mushers come in, and I’ve got the real McCoy.” Matt was thrilled with the response he’d gotten from the professional mushers. “Anyone who signs on is going to learn it all. That’s part of the thrill.”

“I hope this works.” But it was plain Lanni remained skeptical.

“My gut instinct tells me this is going to catch on big.”

Matt sincerely hoped he was right. The survival of the business depended on his ability to convince travel agents across North America—and beyond—to book their clients into Hard Luck Lodge. His vacation packages included guided fishing tours during the summer months and dogsledding in the winter.

“Imagine taking a hundred-mile trek above the Arctic Circle, driving your own team of dogs,” Matt said excitedly. He figured if he could convince his sister, then he could sell this package to just about anyone. “I’ve got everything spelled out right here.” He pointed to the listing of six-and eight-day trips between February and April.

“Several of my guides have run the Iditarod themselves. They know all there is to know about dogs and sledding. This venture helps them, too. The mushers can use the money, and I’ve been more than fair in giving them a cut.”

Lanni’s attention returned to the brochure. “I like the way you talk about the history of the Iditarod. ‘In January 1925, Leonhard Seppala, a Norwegian musher,’” she read aloud, “‘rushed diphtheria serum 675 miles from the end of the Alaska Railroad to Nome. The trip took just over five days.’”

“The Iditarod’s still called the most rugged race on earth.” Matt wasn’t telling Lanni anything she didn’t know. “People dream about this kind of adventure.”

“Then it’s the thrill-seeking vacationer you’re hoping to attract?”

“Exactly.” Matt wanted this venture to succeed for more reasons than he cared to contemplate. He had something to prove to himself—and to Karen. “But it’ll appeal to lots of other people, too.

“I’m listed with the Airline Report Corporation now,” he said, although he suspected his sister didn’t fully understand the significance of this. It meant that Hard Luck Lodge was formally listed with professional travel agents around the country. If a client came in looking for a place to fish, he or she would learn about the lodge.

“Good.”

“I’m mailing out thousands of the brochures and offering incentives to agents to book their clients.”

“Incentives? Like what?”

“Well, for one thing,” he said, “the first ten agents who call me with reservations will receive a two-night fishing package.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“I thought so.” He leaned against the registration counter, crossing his arms, and surveyed the room. A fire flickered in the massive stone fireplace. What the room really needed was those little touches a woman gave a home. He’d wanted to ask Lanni, but she’d already helped with the brochure; besides, she and Charles were newlyweds and he didn’t want to intrude on their lives.

Karen had always been great at that sort of thing. He’d always been impressed with the way she could turn a dinky apartment into a real home, with the colors she used and plants and the placement of a few carefully chosen things. She had a gift for making a room look inviting.

“Now tell me about this trip you’re taking,” Lanni said, breaking into his thoughts. Actually he was grateful. He didn’t want to think about Karen. She’d made her position clear—she didn’t want him in her life—and he was determined to accept that.

“It’s a ten-city West Coast tour to meet personally with travel agents,” he explained. “I’ll be giving a presentation in each city, along with other lodge owners. That way, the agents can ask me any questions they have.”

Lanni nudged him playfully. “One thing’s for sure—not too many of the others are going to offer dogsledding.”

“Probably not,” Matt agreed.

Lanni glanced over his travel itinerary and slowly raised her eyes to meet his. “You’ll be in Oakland.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t pretend not to know what that meant. Karen lived in Oakland. Well, he’d made up his mind that he wasn’t going to see her.

A man had his pride, and she’d trampled his for the last time. Despite their night together, she wasn’t interested in a reconciliation; okay, fine, then that was the way things would be.

“I mailed Karen one of your brochures.”

Matt stifled a groan. This was the problem with Lanni and Karen being such good friends. A part of him wanted Karen to see the brochure because he was proud of it. Proud of everything he’d accomplished in less than a year. But at the same time, he didn’t want to hear her tell him that this venture was another—what had she called it?—reckless scheme. Contrary to what his ex-wife might believe, buying the lodge wasn’t a passing fancy.

“Don’t you want to know what Karen said?” Lanni asked.

“No,” he lied. “She’s out of my life now.”

“But you still care about her.”

Matt wasn’t about to let his sister meddle in his life. “Stay out of it, Lanni. What’s happened between Karen and me is none of your business.”

“Don’t be so quick to shut me out, big brother,” his sister said, making her eyes wide and innocent. “As I recall,
you
tried to interfere in my relationship with Charles. You manipulated us into meeting so we’d settle our differences.”

“As I recall,” he echoed, “you didn’t appreciate my interference. Karen and I won’t, either. I love you, Lanni, but I want you to stay out of this.”

Lanni suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“What did you do?” Matt demanded.

“I…I wrote and told her you were going to be in Oakland.”

That wouldn’t make any difference, Matt figured. “She won’t look me up, and I’m certainly not going out of my way to see her, if that’s what you’re thinking.” And he wouldn’t. Karen wanted nothing more to do with him.

Too bad, but he’d adjust. It wasn’t like this was earth-shattering news. He’d been a little slow to get the message; he should have taken the hint when she filed for divorce.

“Whether or not you see her is up to you,” Lanni told him softly, almost as if she was aware that she’d risked offending him, “but I gave Karen the name of your hotel.”

Anger caused him to clench his fists. He didn’t want
anyone
interfering in his life, least of all his kid sister. Irritated though he was, he understood that her intentions were good. Lanni and Charles were so much in love themselves, it influenced the way they looked at everyone else’s life.

“Don’t be angry with me,” she pleaded.

Matt said nothing.

“Remember, I’m the one who volunteered to take reservations when you’re down in the lower forty-eight rounding up business.”

It could be wishful thinking on his part, but Matt hoped his tour would generate enough interest in Hard Luck Lodge that bookings would immediately start pouring in. Lanni had offered to run the office while he was away. Actually the arrangement suited them both, since she needed a quiet place to write.

His sister left soon afterward, and Matt wandered into the kitchen with its gleaming new appliances. He was eager for paying guests. Eager to host tourists from all over the world.

So far, he’d managed to acquire only a handful of reservations. His listing in the ARC had been entered late—too late to attract much of the lucrative fishing business. He had a lot to learn about attracting tourists, but he was willing and able. And determined. He would make a go of this lodge or die trying.

“Matt has a right to know about the baby.” Lanni’s voice sounded tinny on Karen’s telephone line. “You don’t know how close I came to telling him myself last week.”

“But you didn’t, did you?” Karen cried in alarm. If anyone told her ex-husband she was two months pregnant, it should be her. Except that was turning out to be even harder than she’d expected.

“No, I didn’t,” Lanni assured her. “Listen, Karen, if you don’t want to tell him face-to-face, why don’t you write him a letter?”

“I can’t.” After the things she’d said to him, she wouldn’t blame him if he returned her letter unopened. Besides, this was the kind of news that was better given in person.

“You should’ve called him right away.” The censure in Lanni’s voice was strong. It might’ve been a mistake to confide in her ex-sister-in-law, but she’d had to tell
someone
.

“You’ve already waited a month longer than you should have,” Lanni reminded her.

Karen had no defense. “I know.”

“But you have a chance to rectify it all now. He’s going to be in Oakland on Friday.”

Karen bit her lower lip. “So you said.”

The pause lasted long enough for Karen to wonder if Lanni was still on the line. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle. “How are you feeling?”

Karen rested her hand on her abdomen. “Better,” she said, although that wasn’t entirely true. No one had warned her how dreadful morning sickness could be. During her first few weeks of pregnancy she’d suffered few such symptoms, but now…

At the time of her original doctor’s appointment she’d felt tired and restless and depressed. But that had changed dramatically after the first month. She wasn’t depressed anymore—but not a day passed when she didn’t view parts of a toilet that were never meant to be seen at such close range.

Despite the past month’s discomforts, Karen was thrilled to be pregnant. She’d always wanted children but hadn’t started a family with Matt because she’d wanted him to settle into a permanent job first—which, of course, had never happened. Furthermore, he’d seemed reluctant to have a child, which was one reason she’d delayed telling her ex-husband he was about to become a father.

To some women a pregnancy at a time like this would have been a disaster. However, Karen couldn’t help being excited. She
wanted
this child. Despite everything, she loved Matt. But as far as their relationship was concerned, the baby would be an additional complication in an already complicated situation.

“I hope you’ll reconsider,” Lanni said, and Karen realized she hadn’t been listening.

“Reconsider?”

“Going to see Matt. You should, if for no other reason than to watch his presentation. He had Charles and me sit through it before he left, and I have to tell you, Karen, I was impressed.”

“He’s talking to travel agents?”

“That’s right. He’s put together this wonderful slide show. I was so busy this winter finishing up my commitments to the newspaper in Anchorage that I didn’t pay a lot of attention to what Matt was doing. Did you know he spent ten days on the tundra with a musher and a team of sled dogs?”

“Matt?”

“He told me he couldn’t very well sell the adventure if he hadn’t experienced it himself. And his pictures—they’re fabulous.”

Karen could easily imagine Matt standing in front of an audience. He was good with people, outgoing, friendly. And a persuasive kind of guy.

“When he talked about the dogs,” Lanni went on, “his eyes just sparkled with excitement. If the number of phone calls I’m getting here is any indication, he’s doing a good job of selling the winter packages.”

“You mean to say he’s actually convinced people to visit the Arctic in winter?” Karen had trouble believing it, but then, what did she know about vacations? In the four years of their married life, they hadn’t been able to afford even one.

“I’ve taken at least ten reservations, and Matt’s only been gone a week,” Lanni said proudly. “More are coming in every day.”

“Oh…” Karen couldn’t quite hide her surprise.

“Are you going to see him or not?” Lanni prodded.

“I…don’t know yet.”