Midnight Sons Volume 3 (2 page)

Read Midnight Sons Volume 3 Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

Mariah liked writing long, detailed letters about the happenings in Hard Luck as much as Tracy liked reading them. She appreciated Tracy’s friendship and support more than ever.

Mariah’s family had been convinced she wouldn’t last six months. But her parents had underestimated her tenacity; Tracy hadn’t.

Mariah continued walking toward her small cabin. As she strolled past Hard Luck Lodge, Karen Caldwell stepped out onto the porch. Karen was four months pregnant, and radiantly happy.

“Mariah,” she called. “I hear you’re going on vacation. That’s great. Where are you headed?”

This was one thing about living in a small community that still astonished Mariah. There were few secrets, although people did seem to respect each other’s privacy. It wasn’t as though they were eager to spread gossip; it was more a matter of genuine interest and concern. News was
passed along in a friendly sort of way, often at Ben Hamilton’s place. Almost everyone in town stopped in at the Hard Luck Café at least once during the week, and some more often.

Mariah joined her friend on the front porch of the renovated lodge, which had once belonged to the O’Hallorans and was now owned by Karen’s husband, Matt.

“Who told you about my vacation?” she asked, curious to learn how the news had made the rounds.

“Matt. He had coffee with Ben after John Henderson was in this morning.”

That explained it. John Henderson was Duke Porter’s best friend. Duke had obviously mentioned he was flying her into Fairbanks, then John had told Ben and Ben had told Matt.

“I’m meeting Tracy Santiago in Anchorage,” Mariah said. “I’ve been in Alaska over a year now, and I thought it was time I played tourist.”

“Have a great trip,” Karen said. “But don’t let the bright lights of the big city dazzle you.”

“Not to worry. This is my home.” And it was. Mariah had no desire to stay in Anchorage—or return to Seattle. Her commitment had been for one year, but she fully expected to settle in Hard Luck permanently. The cabin, for whatever it was worth, and the twenty acres of land promised her in the contract had been deeded to her. Mariah had achieved what she wanted. Nothing held her in Hard Luck now except her love of the community and those in it.

Especially Christian.

 

C
HRISTIAN WALKED
into the Hard Luck Café and slid onto a stool at the counter. Ben Hamilton was busy writing the dinner
special on the blackboard. Moose pot roast in cranberry sauce with mashed potatoes and gravy. Christian studied the board intently.

“A little early to be eating, isn’t it?” Ben asked.

“Of course it is.” It was only four-thirty, and he generally didn’t have dinner until six or later.

“You just ate lunch three hours ago,” Ben reminded him.

Christian knew exactly when he’d had lunch. He hadn’t come into the café for food. He wanted to complain. Sawyer had barely left, and already Christian felt at the end of his rope. Between dealing with Mariah and the increased workload, he’d completely lost his composure. He sure hoped Sawyer didn’t stay in Fairbanks longer than a couple of days.

“You got something on your mind?” Ben asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I said to young Matt not so long ago. If you want advice, it doesn’t come free. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you come in here to eat or to talk?” Ben asked curtly.

Christian had noticed a difference in Ben’s temperament ever since he’d started his frequent-eater program. Apparently he’d decided that from now on, nothing was free. Not even speech. Christian was almost surprised Ben wasn’t charging him for sitting on the stool.

“How about some coffee?” Christian muttered.

Ben’s mouth formed a slow grin. “Coming up.”

Christian righted the mug and Ben promptly filled it. Staring at it reminded him that Mariah had made coffee for him nearly every morning for a year. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d told her he liked his coffee black. Some
days she added sugar, some days cream, some days both. But he could count on one hand the days she’d gotten it right.

“So what’s bugging you?” Ben asked.

Christian shook his head. Now that he was here, he didn’t feel inclined to share his woes. More than likely, Ben would side with Mariah the way his brothers had.

“If you’ve got a problem, spit it out,” Ben said.

“You going to charge me?” Christian asked jokingly.

“Nah, I’m just trying to sell a little coffee.”

Ben probably sold more coffee than some of those all-night diners in Anchorage, but Christian didn’t say so.

“If you’ve got something on your mind,” Ben pressed, “best thing to do is get it out.”

“It’s nothing.”

Ben’s laugh was skeptical. “My guess is it involves Mariah.”

Christian glared at the older man. “What makes you say that?”

The cook lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Whenever I see you frown, it usually has to do with her. After all, you’ve been complaining about Mariah for over a year.”

“Not that it does me any good,” Christian said with ill grace. “According to everyone else, the woman walks on water. Is there something wrong with me?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

“She’s a sweetheart, Chris.”

“Not to me, she isn’t.” She might be as wonderful as everyone said, but Christian doubted it. “We can’t seem to get along,” he mumbled.

“Have you ever stopped to consider why?”

“I have, as a matter of fact,” Christian said. “I read an article in one of those airline magazines—oh, it must’ve been three or four years ago. It was about a man who walked from one end
of the continental United States to the other. Took him months. People from all over asked him what he’d found the hardest.”

Ben frowned. “Are we still talking about Mariah?”

“Yes,” Christian insisted. “The writer who was doing the interview suggested the hardest part must’ve been the heat of the desert or the cold of the mountains.”

“Was it?” Ben asked, obviously curious now. He folded his arms and waited for Christian to respond.

“Nope.”

“You sure we’re still talking about Mariah?”

Christian ignored the question. “After deep thought, the man gave his answer. The most difficult thing about the long walk had been the sand in his shoes.”

“The sand in his shoes?”

“Yup. And that’s what’s wrong between Mariah and me.”

Ben’s face broke into a network of lines as he frowned again, and Christian could tell he assumed Mariah had been pouring sand in his shoes. “It’s the little things about her that drive me nuts,” he explained. “The fact that she ruins my coffee every morning. The way she loses things and just…irritates me.” Christian paused, then said grudgingly, “I’m sure she’s a perfectly capable secretary—or would be for someone else. But she hasn’t worked out for me.”

“Sawyer doesn’t seem to have a problem with her.” Christian had heard this argument from Ben before; he wasn’t surprised to be hearing it now.

The door of the café opened just then, and he glanced over his shoulder and saw Duke. The other man’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Christian.

“What’s this all about?” Duke demanded, waving the note Christian had slipped into his mailbox.

“I’ll be flying Mariah into Fairbanks on Saturday,” Christian told him calmly. He didn’t expect the other man to argue, since he was the boss.


I
offered to do it,” Duke said.

“I know, but there are other, uh, more important things I need you for.”

“You’re sending me out on a wild-goose chase and you know it. I could make the flight into Barrow any time next week, and all of a sudden you decide I have to do it Saturday.”

Christian wasn’t proud of his little subterfuge, but his justification was that he didn’t want Duke and Mariah furthering their romance on company time. What they did on their own time was entirely up to them, he told himself righteously. But when it came to Midnight Sons…that was another matter.

“You seem to think I’m interested in her,” Duke said angrily.

Christian’s hands tightened around the coffee mug. He didn’t want to get into this.

“Are you?” Ben wanted to know, his eyes eager.

“No,” Duke growled. “I’ve got a girlfriend in Fairbanks I was planning to see.”

“You’ve got a girlfriend in Fairbanks?” Ben repeated. “Since when?”

“Since now.”

Christian wasn’t sure he should believe him. “What about the other day when I saw you and Mariah kissing?”

Ben’s eyes widened. “You saw Duke and Mariah kissing?”

“Sure did.” Whenever Christian thought about walking into the office and finding them in each other’s arms, he felt a fresh wave of fury. “Right in the middle of the day, too.”

Duke knotted his hands into fists. “I
wasn’t
kissing Mariah.”

Christian wasn’t going to sit there and let one of his pilots lie to him. “I saw you with my own eyes!”

Duke shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other. “Since it’s so important to you, I’ll say it again. I
wasn’t
kissing Mariah.”

Christian glared at the man. This was a bold-faced lie; he knew what he’d seen.

Duke lowered his gaze and muttered, “
She
was kissing
me.

Chapter
2

August 1996

O
N
S
ATURDAY
Mariah was at the airfield well before the allotted time of departure, eager to see Tracy again and make their plans for the week. They’d already decided to take a glacier tour and visit some of the other sights in and around Anchorage.

Fierce, dark clouds puckered the sky, filling the morning with shadows and gloom. Not a promising start to her vacation.

“You ready?” Christian marched past her toward the two-seater Luscombe. It was the smallest plane in the Midnight Sons fleet and used the least often.

Mariah picked up her suitcase and hurried after him. “I want you to know how much I appreciate this,” she said, holding on to the case with both hands. She didn’t understand why Christian had insisted on doing this himself, especially when it was so obvious that he considered it an imposition.

Because of the heavy suitcase, she couldn’t keep pace with
him. Eventually he seemed to realize this. He glanced at her over his shoulder, and then, without a word, turned back and took the suitcase from her hands.

“What did you pack in here, anyway? Rocks?”

She didn’t bother to answer.

When they reached the plane, Christian helped her inside. He stowed her bag, then joined her in the cockpit. She was surprised by how small and intimate the space was; their shoulders touched as Christian worked the switches and revved the engine.

Mariah snapped her seat belt in place and gazed anxiously at the threatening sky. She wondered if she should tell Christian she wasn’t all that keen on flying. She found small planes especially difficult. Give her a Boeing 767 any day of the week over a tiny, little Luscombe.

For the sake of peace, she gritted her teeth and said nothing. No need to hand him further ammunition.

The ever-darkening sky didn’t bode well. Mariah noted that Christian was watching it closely. He radioed Fairbanks and wrote down the necessary weather information.

“Is there any chance we’ll run into a storm?” she asked once they’d started to taxi down the gravel runway.

She expected him to make light of her concern, but he didn’t. “According to the flight controller, we should be able to fly above the worst of it. Don’t worry, I’ll get you to Fairbanks on time.”

Or die trying,
Mariah mused darkly. She gritted her teeth again and held on for dear life as the single-engine furiously increased its speed. Soon they were roaring down the runway, and at what seemed the last possible second, the plane’s nose angled toward the sky and the wheels left the ground.

As soon as they were airborne, Mariah relaxed slightly. The flight would take the better part of an hour, possibly a bit longer, depending on the winds.

Within a few minutes, they were swallowed up by the unfriendly clouds. Mariah couldn’t see two feet in front of them, but that might have been just as well.

Trying to relieve her tension, she closed her eyes.

“If you feel yourself getting sick,” Christian said, “let me know.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I know.” Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat cushion as she concentrated on breathing evenly.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to look!” she snapped.

Christian chuckled and seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “I haven’t crashed in more than a year,” he teased. “But now that you mention it, I’m probably due for a big one.”

Suddenly the plane began to pitch first to one side, then the other.

“Don’t,
please,
” Mariah begged.

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Christian muttered.

Mariah opened her eyes and saw that he was actually struggling to maintain control. “I’m trying to get us above the clouds. Don’t worry, everything’s well in hand.”

The plane pitched sharply to the right and she swallowed a gasp. Although she’d flown in small planes a number of times since coming to work for Midnight Sons, she remained nervous about it—more than ever now, when they were flying directly into a storm.

“Are you all right?” Christian asked a minute later.

“Just fly the plane,” she said over the noise of the engine.

“You’re pale as a sheet,” he said.

“Stop worrying about me.”

“Listen,” he returned, “I’m not going to be able to fly the plane
and
revive you.”

“If I pass out—” she squeezed her eyes shut “—don’t worry about me.”

The plane heaved. She gasped aloud and covered her face with both hands.

“Mariah,” Christian said gently. “Everything will be fine in a few minutes. Trust me.” He patted her arm reassuringly.

Usually when he spoke to her, Christian was impatient or sharp. Half the time she wasn’t even sure what crime she was supposed to have committed. But for reasons she’d probably never understand, today, when she needed it most, he’d chosen to reveal this softer side.

Judging by the feel of the plane, Mariah knew they were increasing altitude. Within minutes they’d be above the squall and everything would be fine. Just as he’d promised.

“You can look now,” Christian told her.

She splayed her fingers and peeked through. Bright sunlight greeted her, and she sighed deeply, relaxing in her seat. The weather couldn’t be more perfect.

They traveled in silence for a while.

“Does your boyfriend know you don’t like to fly?” Christian’s question startled her.

“My boyfriend?” she asked, genuinely perplexed until she remembered that he’d seen her with Duke.

“In case you’re interested, lover boy made quite a stink when I told him he wouldn’t be flying you into Fairbanks.” The disapproval was back in Christian’s voice.

Mariah looked out the side window. “No matter what you think, Duke and I are not involved.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said, too.” The skepticism in his voice was plain.

“It’s the truth,” she insisted.

“Duke claims
you
kissed
him.

He appeared to be waiting for her to deny or confirm the statement. “I did—in a manner of speaking.”

Christian snorted a laugh. “I’ll say. You seem to forget I walked in on the two of you with your lips locked.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mariah said heatedly. “I’d been on the phone with Tracy—”

“On company time?”

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. He could dock her pay if he wanted.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“Tracy and Duke don’t get along.”

Christian laughed again. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“She, Tracy, thought it would be fun if I kissed Duke and said it was from her, and that’s what I did. It was all teasing—a joke.”

Christian didn’t comment.

“Do you believe me?” she asked. It was important that he do so. They had their differences, but trust was a vital factor in any relationship, whether it was work or personal.

“Yeah,” Christian admitted grudgingly, “I guess I do. But you should know something in case you have any, uh, romantic feelings for Duke. He’s got a girlfriend in Fairbanks. And he swore to me he’s a one-woman man—one at a time, anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter to me how many girlfriends Duke’s got.”
Although Mariah was surprised. This was the first she’d heard of Duke being romantically involved with anyone. But then, he was a private person and not inclined to share such things with her.

Just when she’d finally relaxed enough to be comfortable, they approached Fairbanks. As soon as the plane descended into the clouds, Mariah stiffened.

“Hey, you aren’t going to tense up on me again, are you?”

“Yes, I am.” No point in denying it. She closed her eyes as her fingers reshaped the upholstery.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be down in no time.” He was busy after that, communicating with the tower and manipulating the controls.

True to his word, they touched down in a textbook-perfect landing a few minutes later and taxied to the hangar where Midnight Sons kept a truck.

Neither of them seemed ready to leave the plane. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Christian asked, and his gaze settled on her. All at once the atmosphere was charged with excitement. Never had Mariah been so physically aware of him, and he seemed to be experiencing the same reaction to her.

“You’re right. The flight wasn’t bad at all,” she said, realizing how breathless she sounded. “Thank you,” she murmured.

She meant to open the door and climb out, but Mariah found that her body refused to function. Suddenly Christian leaned close, so close the distance between their mouths became too slight to measure.

She wasn’t sure what to think, what to do. She stopped breathing and was convinced Christian did, too. Gradually he eased forward until his mouth grazed hers. His touch was tender. Light. And all too brief.

The effect was, somehow, more devastating than if they’d engaged in a lengthy, passionate kiss.

Christian reared back as if she’d slapped him.

Mariah savored the exquisite sensation of that kiss. This was what she’d wanted from the first, what she’d been longing for.

Christian opened the door just then, and a rush of air instantly cooled the interior of the plane.

Mariah didn’t wait for him to come around and help her down. She did notice that he couldn’t seem to get her luggage out of the plane fast enough.

Once they were inside the truck and headed for the terminal, Christian cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to attach any…importance to what happened back there,” he said brusquely.

“I…won’t.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. It…well, it just happened.”

Regret.
He had to go and ruin the most perfect moment of her life with regret.

 

S
TUPID, STUPID, STUPID
. Christian didn’t know what in the world had possessed him to kiss Mariah. Four days later, and he couldn’t keep from dwelling on their last moments alone in the plane.

Although he’d analyzed the kiss over and over, he couldn’t make sense of it. Not once in the entire year Mariah had been employed by Midnight Sons had the thought of kissing her even entered his mind.

Yet in those awkward moments after they’d landed and taxied off the Fairbanks runway, Christian could think of nothing else. The temptation had become too much for him.

Nothing like complicating his life—and he had no one to
blame but himself. True, he’d made an effort to put it behind them, but only a blind man would’ve missed the stars in Mariah’s eyes.

That was the trouble with women. You kissed them a time or two, and they seemed to think it
meant
something. Well, he wanted to make one thing clear right now. He was not—repeat, not—interested in Mariah Douglas. He didn’t even like the woman. If he could find a legal means of getting her completely out of his life, he’d leap at the opportunity.

“You aren’t looking too happy,” Sawyer announced as he walked past Christian’s desk to his own.

“I’m fine!” he snapped. The last thing he wanted was for Sawyer to learn about that stupid kiss.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you missed Mariah.”

Christian snickered loudly. “Have you noticed how well everything’s gone this week?” he asked. He hoped to convince Sawyer that the office had run like clockwork without her. Maybe, just maybe, Sawyer would see reason and agree to do away with the position.

“It’s been hectic,” Sawyer argued.

“Well, we’ve been busier than usual,” Christian conceded. “But have you stopped to notice how peaceful it is around here? And how we’ve had no major problems?”

Sawyer nodded.

Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as difficult as Christian had assumed. “We don’t need Mariah.”

His brother sent him a disgusted look. “Don’t need Mariah? Sure, we’ve managed without her, but I have to tell you, this place has been hopping. We’re getting more business all the time. If everything’s running smoothly, then it’s because Mariah oiled the gears before she left. I don’t know
about you, little brother, but I’m counting the hours until she returns.”

Christian cursed under his breath. He was counting the hours himself, but not for the same reason.

“Don’t need Mariah?” Sawyer repeated in the same tone of disbelief he’d used a minute earlier. “Tell that to Abbey and the kids. I’ve been late for dinner every night this week. I don’t like working this hard. I’ve got a wife and family I’d like to see once in a while.”

The phone pealed, and Sawyer glared at Christian, who was concentrating on tallying a row of figures. “Since you’ve got so much free time on your hands, you can answer that.”

Christian scowled and reached for the telephone.

 

“D
UKE’S GOT A GIRLFRIEND
?” Tracy Santiago asked Mariah as they sat outside the Kenai Lodge and enjoyed the sunshine. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Tracy didn’t bother to disguise her shock. “What woman would put up with that chauvinistic character for more than five minutes?”

“I don’t know. I’m just repeating what Christian told me. It’s funny, though,” she said, thinking out loud. “Duke’s never mentioned anyone.”

Tracy raised her face to the sun and grumbled something Mariah couldn’t make out.

“Duke’s not so bad.”

Tracy straightened and sipped her margarita. “The man’s a public nuisance. Let’s change the subject, okay? He has a bad effect on my blood pressure.”

Mariah lay back in the lawn chair. They’d spent four full days sightseeing. Every minute of every day had been full, and Mariah was exhausted; so was Tracy.

Now was the time to relax. Mariah didn’t want to think about Hard Luck—and particularly not about Christian. This was her vacation, and she was determined to make the most of it.

“Mmm, this is the life,” Tracy said, closing her eyes and smiling into the sun. “A woman could get used to this.”

Mariah smiled, too. Although most of their communication had been by phone and mail, she knew her friend all too well. Tracy would soon grow bored lazing around a swimming pool; before a week was past, she wouldn’t be able to stand the inactivity. She’d be eager to get back to her job.

“You surprise me,” Tracy said out of the blue.

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