Lonely men in Hard Luck, Alaska, looking for women. Our town might be cold, but our hearts are warm!

Location: north of the Arctic Circle. Population: 150 (mostly men!) But the three O’Halloran brothers, who run a bush-plane charter service called Midnight Sons, are heading a campaign to bring women to town.

Falling for Him

Christian, the youngest O’Halloran brother, has a problem, and her name is Mariah Douglas. The Midnight Sons secretary is always losing his messages, misplacing his files and generally creating chaos. Despite that, he can’t get her out of his mind...

Ending in Marriage

The clashes between pilot Duke Porter and Seattle attorney Tracy Santiago are legendary. Duke’s a tough, rugged individualist who delights in expressing outrageous opinions, particularly when Tracy’s around. But she gives as good as she gets...and not just when they’re arguing!

Includes a special extra novella!

Midnight Sons and Daughters

Scott O’Halloran and Chrissie Harris are all grown up now. After years away from Alaska, Scott’s back in town, and everybody’s wondering if he’s here to stay. Especially Chrissie, the girl he left behind...

Praise for the novels of #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Ms. Macomber’s storytelling skills really shine as she creates appealing characters and a winning premise.”

—RT Book Reviews on Falling for Him

“Delightful characters and a sparkling conflict.”

—RT Book Reviews on Ending in Marriage

“Macomber is a skilled storyteller.”

—Publishers Weekly

“[Debbie Macomber] demonstrates her impressive skills with characterization and her flair for humor.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Whether [Debbie Macomber] is writing lighthearted romps or more serious relationship books, her novels are always engaging stories that accurately capture the foibles of real-life men and women with warmth and humor.”

—Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

“Debbie Macomber tells women’s stories in a way no one else does.”

—BookPage

“Popular romance writer Debbie Macomber has a gift for evoking the emotions that are at the heart of the genre’s popularity.”

—Publishers Weekly

Dear Friend,

Welcome back to Hard Luck, Alaska, and the last volume in the Midnight Sons series. If you read volumes one and two, you’ve become familiar with the families living in this rugged tundra town.

My husband worked on the pipeline in Alaska back in 1982. In fact, Wayne was in Purdue Bay when I received word that my first book had sold. It was a phone call that changed our lives. Because Wayne had loved working in Alaska, we traveled north—many years later—in order to do the research for this series. If anyone from the IRS inquires, the entire trip was for research purposes! It was work, work, work!

I remember we were in Fairbanks for the summer solstice. When they say Alaska is the land of the midnight sun, that’s no exaggeration. We ended up propping a chair against the drapes to keep the light from shining into our hotel-room window. See? It’s all research.

Our trip was quite an adventurous one. Wayne and I were able to fly over the Arctic Circle on a “mail run” and visit a town called Bettles, which bears an astonishing resemblance to Hard Luck. In the name of research I interviewed bush pilots, panned for gold, dined on moose meat and talked with anyone and everyone willing to share their experiences. It ended up being a trip Wayne and I would long remember. Although it was strictly work (in case that IRS agent is lurking over your shoulder reading this).

I hope you enjoy Falling for Him and Ending in Marriage, plus the bonus novella Midnight Sons and Daughters. It’s a follow-up story many readers had asked me to write. This is a great opportunity to find out how some of the children you met in these books turned out.

Warmest regards,

PS: I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at www.debbiemacomber.com or PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, Washington 98366.

Alaska Home

Falling for Him

Ending in Marriage

Midnight Sons and Daughters

Debbie Macomber

www.mirabooks.co.uk

The History of Hard Luck, Alaska

Hard Luck, situated fifty miles north of the Arctic Circle near the Brooks Range, was founded by Adam O’Halloran and his wife, Anna, in 1931. Adam came to Alaska to make his fortune, but never found the gold strike he sought. Nevertheless, the O’Hallorans and their two young sons, Charles and David, stayed on—in part because of a tragedy that befell the family a few years later.

Other prospectors and adventurers began to move to Hard Luck, some of them bringing wives and children. The town became a stopping-off place for mail, equipment and supplies. The Harmon family arrived in 1938 to open a dry-goods store, and the Fletchers came soon after that.

When World War II began, Hard Luck’s population was fifty or sixty people all told. Some of the young men, including the O’Halloran sons, joined the armed services; Charles left for Europe in 1942, David in 1944 at the age of eighteen. Charles died during the fighting. Only David came home—with a young English war bride, Ellen Sawyer, despite the fact that he’d become engaged to Catherine Harmon shortly before going overseas. Catherine married Willie Fletcher after David’s return.

After the war, David qualified as a bush pilot. He then built some small cabins to attract the sport fishermen and hunters who were starting to come to Alaska; he also worked as a guide. Eventually he built a lodge to replace the cabins—a lodge that was later damaged by fire.

David and Ellen had three sons, born fairly late in their marriage—Charles, named after David’s brother, was born in 1960, Sawyer in 1963 and Christian in 1965.

Hard Luck had been growing slowly all this time, and by 1970 it was home to just over a hundred people. These were the years of the oil boom, when the school and community center were built by the state. After Vietnam, ex-serviceman Ben Hamilton joined the community and opened the Hard Luck Café, which became the social center of the town.

In the late 1980s, the three O’Halloran brothers formed a partnership, creating Midnight Sons, a bush-pilot operation. They were awarded the mail contract, and they also deliver fuel and other necessities to the interior. In addition, they serve as a small commuter airline, flying passengers to and from Fairbanks and within the northern Arctic.

In 1995, at the time these stories start, there are approximately one hundred and fifty people living in Hard Luck—the majority of them male.

Now, more than twenty years later, join the people here in looking back at their history—particularly the changes that occurred when Midnight Sons invited women to town. Women who transformed Hard Luck, Alaska, forever!

For Bailey and Carter Macomber, who both make their Grandma and Grandpa Macomber so very proud.

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Dear Friend

Title Page

History of Hard Luck, Alaska

Dedication

Falling for Him

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Ending in Marriage

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Epilogue

Midnight Sons and Daughters

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Extract

Copyright

Falling for Him

Debbie Macomber

One

Late July 1996

The woman drove him crazy. Christian O’Halloran had given a lot of thought to Mariah Douglas lately and had compiled a long list of reasons to fire her. Good reasons. Unfortunately he had to get his stubborn brother to agree. According to Sawyer, Mariah could do no wrong.

According to him, she could do no right.

It astonished Christian that his brother was so blind about this. As a rule, Christian valued Sawyer’s opinion. In fact, he considered both his older brothers—Charles, too—excellent judges of character. Christian couldn’t understand it, but they’d been hoodwinked by Mariah. Not only that, they’d accused him of being arbitrary, unfair, unkind.

Mariah gave the impression of being sweet and gentle. Unassuming. Efficient. But he knew otherwise. Mariah Douglas was not to be trusted. She was, to put it simply, a klutz. Whenever he was around, she lost messages, misfiled documents, dropped things. None of that ever seemed to happen when Sawyer was in the office, so Christian had to conclude that she had it in for him, and him alone. Now, he didn’t believe she’d ever intentionally do anything to undermine their business. If she managed to sabotage Midnight Sons, he was convinced it would be purely accidental. That, however, didn’t make her any less dangerous. There was definitely a negative chemistry between them. He nodded to himself, pleased with the term.

Sitting at his desk in the mobile office for Midnight Sons, the flight service the three O’Halloran brothers owned and operated in Hard Luck, Alaska, Christian wondered exactly what it was about Mariah he found so objectionable—aside from her clumsiness, of course. He’d never really figured that out.

It wasn’t her looks. The woman was attractive enough—medium height, medium build with medium-length red hair and brown eyes. Some might even think she was pretty, and Christian wouldn’t disagree. She was pretty. Sort of. Nothing that would stop traffic, mind you, but reasonably pleasing to the eye.

Duke Porter, one of his pilots, apparently thought so.

Christian’s mouth thinned at the memory of walking in on them recently and finding Mariah and Duke locked in each other’s arms. It irritated him no end that they hadn’t kept their romance out of the office. If they wanted to smooch and carry on, they could do it on their own time. Not his.

This sort of behavior wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he convinced Sawyer that they should bring women to Hard Luck. In his view, the plan had a practical business purpose. Midnight Sons had been losing pilots. And he’d hoped that persuading women to move to Alaska would solve their problems.

Instead, it had created more—Mariah Douglas being one of them.

Abbey Sutherland was the first woman to arrive. From the moment his levelheaded brother laid eyes on her, Sawyer hadn’t been the same. In less than a month, he and Abbey were engaged.

In Christian’s opinion, Sawyer lost more than his heart when he met Abbey; since then, his brain hadn’t functioned properly, either. Charles wasn’t much better once Lanni Caldwell showed up. The two of them were engaged by the end of the summer. They’d set up house this past April, and all the common sense Charles used to have had flown right out the proverbial window.

Christian appeared to be the last of the three in full possession of his wits.

Shortly after he’d found Mariah and Duke embracing, Christian had approached Charles. He’d hoped his oldest brother would help him convince Sawyer that the time had come to replace Mariah. She’d been their secretary for a full year now, and there was only so much a man should have to take. They’d signed a one-year agreement, and as far as he was concerned their responsibilities toward her had been met.

Charles had proved to be a major disappointment. It wasn’t that his brother had sided with Sawyer over the secretary issue; however, he hadn’t said what Christian had been hoping to hear. Charles seemed to feel that Sawyer and Christian should settle this matter between themselves.

That would never work, because Sawyer didn’t have the same problems with Mariah that Christian did. His brother was in favor of keeping her as long as she was willing to stay on.

Every time Christian brought up the subject, Sawyer reminded him that he’d been the one to hire her. What his brother failed to remember was that Christian had never wanted Mariah as their secretary in the first place. He’d wanted Allison Reynolds.

Even now, the image of the tall, beautiful blonde stirred his blood. He’d met her in Seattle and been immediately captivated. It had taken a lot of fancy footwork to get her to give Hard Luck a try.

Allison had come to Alaska, but after viewing the town and seeing the living quarters allotted her, she’d experienced a sudden change of heart. Unfortunately Christian hadn’t been in Hard Luck at the time, and once she’d decided to return to Seattle, he didn’t have the opportunity to talk her into giving the town another chance.

Disheartened after her departure, he’d pulled out the next job application in the pile.

Mariah Douglas.

Christian had rued that day ever since. He’d wanted Allison Reynolds. She’d affected him the way Abbey had affected Sawyer, the way Lanni affected Charles. If he hadn’t been so dismayed with Allison’s decision to go back home, he’d have done a better job of choosing her replacement.

“Christian, could I speak to you for a moment?” Mariah approached his desk in her usual timid manner, as though she expected him to leap up and bite her.

He raised his eyes. It had taken her six months to call him by his first name, instead of Mr. O’Halloran. Didn’t she realize he and Sawyer had the same surname? He sighed. And Sawyer wasn’t even in today to help with damage control; he’d gone to Fairbanks with Abbey and the kids.

“Yes,” he muttered, barely hiding his impatience.

“Before he left, Sawyer said I should talk to you....” She bit her lower lip. From her expression, you’d think he was some kind of ogre. Christian saw himself as considerate and intelligent and hoped he behaved that way. Obviously Mariah didn’t agree. He sighed again.

“Talk to me about what?” he asked, more kindly this time.

“I’ve been with Midnight Sons for a whole year now.”

No one was more aware of that than Christian. “Yes, I know.”

“I’d like to take a week of the vacation I’m allowed according to my employment contract.”

Christian straightened. A week without Mariah. A week of freedom. A week of peace.

“I’m meeting a friend in Anchorage,” she explained, not that he needed to know or particularly cared.

“When?” The sooner she left the better, in Christian’s opinion. This would be his chance to prove to Sawyer once and for all that they didn’t need a secretary. Or—and this was his own preference—that they should hire someone else. Someone more like Allison and a lot less like Mariah.

“If it’s possible, I’d like to take next week,” she said, her eyes hopeful. “Early August is the perfect time to see Alaska.”

“Next week’ll be fine.” Christian was so excited it was all he could do not to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her on both cheeks.

She hesitated, lingering at his desk.

“Is there something else?” he asked.

“Yes, there is.” Her eyes flashed briefly, but with what he couldn’t quite guess. Anxiety? Resentment? “I wanted to thank you for giving me this time off on such short notice. I realize it puts you in a bind, but I didn’t decide to go until last night after I got Tracy’s letter and—”

“Tracy Santiago?”

Mariah nodded.

Tracy was an attorney hired by the Douglas family soon after Mariah’s arrival. Tracy had flown up to inspect the living conditions and review Mariah’s contract with Midnight Sons. Through all of this, apparently, Mariah and Tracy had struck up a friendship.

With any luck Tracy would convince Mariah to forget about Alaska and return to Seattle where she belonged. One thing was certain: Christian wanted her gone.

“I’ll be leaving on Saturday,” she said, again providing him with more information than he wanted or required.

“Fine.”

“And I’ll be back the following Saturday.”

“Fine.”

She backed away from him. “I just thought you should know.”

“Will you be flying out of Fairbanks?”

“Yes.” She nodded enthusiastically. “Duke’s offered to take me into the city.”

Duke. Christian should’ve known he’d relish a chance to spend time alone with Mariah. Duke was welcome to her, although Christian would insist they keep their romance out of the office and out of his sight. The problems with having one of his pilots dating the secretary were obvious—weren’t they? Well, maybe he couldn’t articulate all of those problems this very minute, but he knew instinctively that it wasn’t a good idea. For reasons he couldn’t entirely explain, Christian did not want Duke flying Mariah into Fairbanks.

“Duke’s going to be busy next Saturday,” Christian announced suddenly. He wasn’t sure what he’d assign the pilot, but he’d come up with something.

“But I checked the schedule, and there wasn’t anything down for Duke. He’s already said he’d do it, and—”

“Then I suggest you check the schedule again,” he snapped, “and have one of the other pilots fly you in.”

“All right.” She agreed readily enough, but Christian could see she wasn’t pleased.

He’d no sooner resumed his paperwork than Mariah approached him a second time.

“Yes?” he said, realizing he sounded annoyed but unable to help it. Then he reminded himself—in a few days he’d be free of her for an entire week. The thought cheered him considerably.

“I’ve gone over the list, and there’s only one other pilot available this Saturday but—”

“Fine.” Christian didn’t care who flew her into Fairbanks, as long as it wasn’t Duke.

“But—”

He clenched his jaw, growing impatient. “Mariah, I have more important things to do than discuss your travel arrangements. Someone other than Duke will be available to fly you out in plenty of time to catch your flight to Anchorage, and that’s all that matters.”

“Yes, I know,” she returned, just as impatient. “That someone is you.”

* * *

The man was impossible, Mariah decided as she left the Midnight Sons office that afternoon. Nothing she did pleased him. What she should’ve done was look Christian O’Halloran right in the eye and tell him he could take this job and shove it.

She would’ve, too, if she wasn’t so much in love with him.

Mariah didn’t know when it had happened, possibly the first time they’d met. He’d been in Seattle interviewing applicants for a variety of positions in Hard Luck. She’d been excited about applying for the job, although as claims adjuster for a large insurance company, she had limited office experience.

Her meeting with Christian had been short and to the point. He’d asked her a list of questions, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. She’d gone home discouraged, assuming he’d already made his decision and wouldn’t be giving her the job.

When she learned she had gotten the job and told her friends, no one seemed to understand her reasons for wanting to move to a remote town north of the Arctic Circle. If she was doing it to escape her family, they told her, there were any number of places that would’ve been more suitable.

Her friends’ doubts were nothing compared to her family’s reaction. When she’d informed her parents that she planned to move to Hard Luck, they’d feared the worst.

She couldn’t make them understand that Alaska appealed to her sense of adventure, her need to experience a different life. She’d suspected she would grow to love this land, and she’d been right.

Her friends had teased her unmercifully. She still grinned whenever she remembered a comment of her friend Rochelle’s: “I hear your odds of finding a man in Alaska are good—but the goods are odd.”

Mariah hadn’t come here looking for a husband. No one seemed to believe that. She’d come because she wanted a life of her own, a life away from her family. She wanted to make her own decisions and her own mistakes. For the first time, she didn’t have her mother or one of her aunts hovering over her constantly, ready to leap into the middle of her life and arrange everything.

Two important occurrences had shaped her year in Hard Luck. First and foremost, she’d fallen in love. Head over heels. Hook, line and sinker. The whole nine yards.

The problem was that the object of her affections was Christian O’Halloran and he didn’t even seem to like her. He thought she was a major klutz, and in the past year she’d done everything possible to prove him right. Not intentionally of course. The man flustered her. Whenever they were in close proximity, she said or did something stupid. She couldn’t help it. And now he seemed to think she was infatuated with Duke. The man had to be blind.

The second occurrence had been set in motion by her family. Mariah should’ve realized they’d have a difficult time accepting her decision to move away. The ink had barely dried on her contract with Midnight Sons when her parents had hired an attorney.

Tracy Santiago had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. At first Mariah was afraid the woman would jeopardize her position with Midnight Sons, but her fears had been groundless.

Shortly after Mariah’s arrival in Hard Luck, Tracy flew up to meet her, and while she was there she interviewed several of the other women. In the year since then, Mariah and Tracy had become good friends.

They’d kept in touch, with letters and phone calls and the occasional brief visit. In that time, there’d been a number of unexpected events. Marriages. A death. A new enterprise—the revived Hard Luck Lodge. And soon the community would see a spurt in population growth. Abbey O’Halloran was pregnant, as was Karen Caldwell. Both were due in midwinter.

Tracy had enjoyed receiving Mariah’s letters, updating her on life and love in Hard Luck. Romance abounded. The two older O’Halloran brothers had fallen for women in no time flat. They were both married now. Pete Livengood, who operated the general store, had married Dotty Harlow, the health clinic nurse. Then Mitch Harris, the public safety officer, and Bethany Ross, the new schoolteacher, had fallen in love. Some women had come to Hard Luck and stayed; others had quickly moved on. Those who did stay became so integrated in the community it was sometimes difficult to remember who was new to this rugged, beautiful place and who wasn’t.

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.

* * *

Christian 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.”

Two

August 1996

On Saturday 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.

* * *

Stupid, 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.

* * *

“Duke’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.

“I do?” Mariah asked. “How?”

Tracy grinned sheepishly. “Well, when your parents first contacted me, they described you as this delicate hothouse flower who didn’t have a clue what she was letting herself in for.”

“That’s how they see me.” It saddened Mariah to admit that. Her family’s attitude was the very reason she’d left Seattle. They considered her helpless and inept, and if she’d stayed much longer she might have come to believe it herself.

“You really love it in Hard Luck, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes. This has been the most...” Mariah hesitated, unsure how to explain what her year in the Arctic community had been like. She felt proud of her own ability to survive in difficult surroundings, especially during the winter when the temperature dropped to forty below. True, there were times she’d been lonely and confused. Depressed. At other times she’d felt a new confidence, a newly developed sense of self that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. After a year in the Arctic, she knew she was capable of handling any situation. She’d learned to trust her own judgment and to take pride in her achievements.

But her nonrelationship with Christian continued to baffle her, although her attraction to him grew more potent with each passing month. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to share her feelings. But then again, perhaps he did... The kiss gave her hope.

“When you told me you’d decided to stay in Hard Luck, I admired you,” Tracy said with a thoughtful look. “I admired you for taking charge of your life and for not being afraid to do something risky.”

Mariah squirmed under her praise. “It’s no more than the other women have done—Abbey and Karen and Lanni. Bethany Ross and Sally Henderson.”

“You’re good friends with them, aren’t you?”

“It’s like they’re part of my family,” Mariah said. But better. The women who’d come to Hard Luck were a close-knit group, out of necessity but also genuine liking. They relied on and supported each other in every possible way. In the dead of winter, when sunlight disappeared and spirits fell, it was the women who brought joy and laughter to the community. She’d known these women for only a year, but her friendships with them were closer now than the friendships she’d left behind.

“What do you miss most?” Tracy asked next.

That question took some consideration. She wouldn’t lie; there were certainly aspects of city life that she yearned for, services and stores and all kinds of things that weren’t available in Hard Luck.

Things like first-run movies, her favorite junk food, shopping malls... But how much did any of that really matter? “What do I miss most?” Mariah repeated slowly. “I’m thinking, Trace...”

“That, my friend, is answer enough,” the attorney said. She sounded almost wistful.

* * *

Christian set aside the murder mystery he was reading and forcefully expelled his breath. He couldn’t seem to concentrate, although the author was one of his favorites.

Tomorrow evening, Mariah would be back, and frankly he dreaded her return. Despite his warning, he was sure she’d be foolish enough to put some stock in that stupid kiss. He tried to put her out of his mind, something he’d been struggling to do all week.

Mariah wasn’t the only woman who’d been on his mind lately. Funny that he’d be thinking of Allison Reynolds now. But again and again he found himself comparing his current secretary to the one who got away.

Every time the statuesque blonde drifted into his thoughts, Christian felt his heart work like a blacksmith’s bellows.

In the year since she’d gone home to Seattle, he’d never called. More fool he. When they first met, they’d dated—nothing serious, just a couple of dinners while he’d been in Seattle conducting business and setting up job interviews. He remembered those evenings with Allison in a haze of pleasure.

He was due to go back to the Northwest, strictly for business purposes, anytime now. He’d been discussing the trip with Sawyer just that morning. Generally they took turns going to Seattle to arrange for supplies, but with Abbey pregnant and the kids getting ready to head back to school, Sawyer wasn’t eager to leave Hard Luck. Christian was.

For one thing, he’d have a chance to visit his mother, who lived in Vancouver, British Columbia. He had a special bond with Ellen. While Charles and Sawyer were more like their father in looks and temperament, Christian had always been closer to his mother.

As a boy, he’d spent eighteen months with her in England. The years before the separation had been difficult for his parents. Christian, only ten at the time, hadn’t understood what was happening to his family.

All he knew was that his mother was desperately unhappy. More than once he’d found her weeping, and in his own way had attempted to comfort her. When she told him she was leaving Alaska, Christian had known immediately that he should go with her. His mother would need him, he thought—and she had.

Saying goodbye to his father and brothers was hard, and he’d missed them far more than he’d dreamed possible. In the beginning, he’d enjoyed living in England, but that hadn’t lasted long. He missed Alaska. He missed his home, his brothers and the life he’d always known, and he suspected his mother did, as well.

After a year and a half, they’d flown back to Hard Luck, and for a time, a very brief time, they’d been a family again, and happy.

Christian had never fully understood what had shattered that fragile joy, but he realized Catherine Fletcher was somehow responsible. She was gone now and his father was, too. A few years ago Ellen had remarried; her second husband was a wonderful man who shared her passion for literature. She’d moved to his home in British Columbia.

Ellen had come to Hard Luck twice in the past year. Nevertheless, Christian intended to visit her and her husband, Robert, in Vancouver. He knew she was delighted with her new grandchildren, and if he could coordinate the flights, he might be able to bring Scott and Susan with him. A nice way to end their summer vacation. And Abbey and Sawyer could have a second honeymoon.

While he was in Seattle, Christian decided, he’d look up Allison Reynolds. The thought cheered him. Yes, that was what he’d do. He’d give Allison a call and they’d go out on the town.

Content, Christian picked up the novel and started reading again. Then it struck him. It seemed unfair—and a bit unrealistic—to arrive in Seattle unannounced and expect Allison to be free.

Maybe he should call her now. Besides, talking to a woman who was as close to perfect as any human had a right to be would lift his spirits.

In another moment, he’d dug out her phone number.

The phone rang three times. “Hello.”

It was Allison. She sounded...silky. Yes, that was the word for her voice—silky. Soft and a little breathless. A man could get light-headed just listening to her.

“Allison, this is Christian O’Halloran.”

“Christian!” Her elevated voice said she was pleased to hear from him. “Don’t tell me you’re in Seattle? Why, I was thinking about you the other day.”

Forget light-headed, he was almost ecstatic. “You were?” Life was good. Very good.

“Are you in town?” Her voice was definitely silky.

“No, but I will be.”

“When?”

He couldn’t believe how eager she sounded. “I’m not sure yet. I, uh, thought I’d arrange my schedule around yours. Are you going to be available this month?”

“I’m available any time you want.” Her voice dipped in a playful whisper. Christian’s chest tightened. This was one way to get Mariah out of his mind.

* * *

Early Saturday evening, Christian flew into Fairbanks to meet Mariah. He’d dreaded this moment all week, but now that it was upon him, he discovered that his earlier anxiety had vanished. He credited Allison with this. Knowing that a week from now he’d be spending time with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen left him with a euphoric sense of well-being.

As he waited at the gate for Mariah’s flight, he realized, somewhat to his surprise, that he was looking forward to seeing her again.

Sawyer was right; the office had been hectic without her to run interference, take calls, organize schedules and perform the dozens of other tasks she’d taken on. He suspected he’d become accustomed to having her around—and truth be told, he’d actually found himself missing her once or twice.

The gate where she was due to land was directly across from a gift shop. Deciding this might be a good time to mend fences, Christian wandered inside. The instant he saw the small jade figurine he knew it was the perfect welcome-back gift. No larger than a child’s building block, the green jade had been skillfully sculpted into a bear, gripping a salmon between its teeth.

On impulse Christian bought it, then stuffed it in his pocket.

The flight landed on schedule, and Christian watched the passengers file out one by one. Mariah stepped out of the jetway and glanced around expectantly, her arms filled with packages. She looked tanned and rested. When her gaze happened on him, she hesitated, as if uncertain of her reception.

Christian moved forward. “Welcome home,” he said, grinning.

“Hi. I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

He chose to ignore the statement. “How was your week?”

“Fantastic. Tracy and I had a fabulous time.” She shifted the packages in her arms. “I brought everyone a small gift,” she said, and lines of happiness crinkled at the edges of her eyes. “Even you.”

“That’s funny, because I got you a gift, too. Just to say we’re glad you’re back.” He took some of the packages out of her arms and together they walked toward the baggage carousel.

“You bought me something?” She sounded incredulous.

Perhaps he should give it to her now, seeing that he’d gone out of his way to make her life miserable for the past twelve months. He regretted his earlier behavior. Mariah wasn’t so bad—once he’d gotten used to working with her. Too bad that had taken a year. “Have you had dinner?”

“Dinner,” she repeated. She frowned and looked at him. “No. Are you feeling all right?”

Christian chuckled. “I’m feeling just fine.”

When they’d retrieved her suitcase, he loaded that, along with her carry-on packages, into the truck Midnight Sons kept at the airport.

He was turning over a new leaf as far as his relationship with Mariah was concerned. True, she was still an irritant, but he was tired of fighting a losing battle. Sawyer thought she was wonderful, and so did almost everyone else. This week without her—and the prospect of seeing Allison—had done wonders for his tolerance.

“You’re taking me to dinner?” she asked when he pulled into his favorite restaurant, the Sourdough Café. The ambience wasn’t great, but the food more than made up for it.

“Sure,” he said, and climbed out of the cab.

He led the way inside and selected a booth. Mariah sat across from him. Now that he’d set his prejudices aside, he realized she was a pleasant dinner companion. He laughed wholeheartedly at the tales of her escapades in Anchorage and carefully studied her photographs, which she’d had developed the day before. The most spectacular photos were of the boat tour she’d taken in Prince William Sound. Sometimes Christian forgot how impressive the glaciers were.

Mariah had captured the deep blue color of the ice with the sun glinting off the canyon’s high walls. The marine-life photos—a pod of whales, several species of seals and a wide variety of birds—were as good as any he’d seen.

“These are great pictures,” he said enthusiastically.

She blushed with pleasure. “I’m sort of an amateur photographer.”

He’d worked with her for more than a year and hadn’t known that.

Their meal arrived, and the conversation slowed while they feasted on thick roast-beef sandwiches served on sourdough rolls.

It wasn’t until they were back at the airport that Christian remembered the jade bear in his pocket.

He parked the truck and turned off the ignition.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said shyly.

“I’d like it if you and I could start over, Mariah,” he began. He didn’t want her to place any special significance on his words, but simply to take his offer at face value.

“I’d like that, too.”

“I don’t know how we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Me, neither.”

“This last week—with you gone...” He hesitated, not sure how to continue, not wanting to say too much.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice hushed.

“It didn’t seem...right.”

If she was going to gloat, the time was now. To her credit all she said was, “I’ve missed Hard Luck and my friends. I...missed you.”

He wouldn’t go so far as to admit he’d missed her, but she’d been on his mind. Removing the plastic sack from his flight jacket, he handed it to her. “I saw this at the gift shop in the airport and thought of you.”

She carefully peeled away the tissue paper and gasped softly when she uncovered the tiny statue.

“Christian,” she breathed in awe. “It’s lovely. Thank you so much. I got you a silk scarf—nothing much. I read that the early pilots needed them because oil used to spray into the open cockpit. The pilots cleaned their goggles with the scarves.” She stopped abruptly, as if she’d noticed that she was chattering, and stared down at the jade bear.

“I wanted to apologize for being kind of a jerk the past few months,” he said. “This last week, with you away, I could see what a difference you’ve made at the office. You’ve come a long way since you first moved to Hard Luck, Mariah.”

She looked up at him and to his astonishment, her eyes were bright with tears.

Tears.

“I’ll be the first to admit we’ve had our moments, but you’ve turned out to be an excellent secretary. You’re an important part of Midnight Sons.”

The tears spilled over, rolling down the sides of her face.

Christian wanted to tell her that the last thing he’d expected was emotion. He would have, too, if his mind hadn’t been dominated by a more compelling thought. All at once, completely against his will, he experienced the burning need to kiss Mariah Douglas again.

Three

Christian was about to kiss her. Mariah read the longing in his eyes and felt a rush of anticipation. Her hand closed around the precious jade figurine as she realized that her patience with Christian had finally paid dividends. She was about to receive her reward.

Her eyes drifted shut as she awaited his touch. She’d dreamed of this, of exchanging tender kisses, followed by passionate ones. Now the dream was about to become reality.

Mariah waited for what seemed far too long. Nothing happened. Flustered, she opened her eyes and looked at him. To her utter embarrassment, she saw Christian sitting with his hands locked around the truck’s steering wheel. His jaw was clamped tightly, his mouth tense.

Mortified, Mariah swallowed and gathered her composure. Christian refused to kiss her? Well, so be it. She would resign herself to his cowardice. And her own disappointment.

Still, she had to acknowledge that he’d made progress in the week she’d been away. He’d apologized for his childish behavior toward her and bought her a gift. For now that was enough.

The flight into Hard Luck seemed to go quickly. At first, the nonkissing incident left them both feeling awkward and ill at ease, but after a year of working in the same office, they were familiar enough with each other that they became comfortable companions once again.

By the time they made their descent into Hard Luck, they were chatting amicably, like people with a number of mutual friends and shared interests.

After Christian had parked and secured the aircraft, he piled her suitcase and other packages in the company truck. “It’s good to be home,” Mariah whispered with a heartfelt sigh of appreciation. Her week away had been enjoyable and relaxing, but she was grateful to get back to her normal life.

Although she insisted it wasn’t necessary, Christian drove her to her small log cabin on the outskirts of town. He kept the engine running as he leaped out of the cab and carried in her suitcase. He stopped abruptly just inside the door.

“Is something wrong?” she asked nervously, stepping up behind him.

“I’m surprised, that’s all,” he answered after a thoughtful pause.

“Surprised?”

“You’ve done a terrific job with this place.” Before she could ask what he meant, he elaborated. “Decorating the old cabin. It’s really nice. Downright homey.”

“This is my home, Christian.” She’d worked hard to make her space both livable and pleasing to the eye. That meant more than adding lace curtains to the windows. One of the first things she’d done was get rid of the chunky, oddly shaped furniture that came with the cabin. She’d replaced it, a piece at a time, with furniture that suited her needs—not the easiest task when you lived in the Arctic. She’d bought some chairs from Matt, had her bed shipped up from home, ordered fabric and a small table and a replica nineteenth-century oil lamp from catalogs. She had an eye for color and detail and was genuinely pleased with what she’d managed to achieve in her cramped quarters.

Christian set the suitcase down in the center of the room, on the green-and-rose braided rug she’d purchased on a trip to Fairbanks six months ago. She’d also splurged on a quilt that picked up the same colors.

“Thank you again,” she said, smiling. “I had a lovely evening. I appreciate your flying in for me, the dinner and...everything else.”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable with her gratitude. “I’ll see you Monday morning,” he said a bit gruffly.

“Monday,” she echoed.

As Christian walked past her, he paused and casually kissed her on the lips. He’d gone another couple of steps before he appeared to realize what he’d done. He came to a sudden halt, shook his head as if to clear it, then continued on to the truck.

* * *

Monday morning, when Mariah entered the office, she was greeted with chaos. Two phone lines rang simultaneously and the fax had started transmitting data. Christian was frantically searching through the filing cabinet, demanding to know where she’d hidden the Freemont account.

Concealing a smile, she located the file, answered the phone and dealt with the fax. It did her heart good to know she’d been missed.

“Welcome back,” Sawyer told her two hours later. It was the first quiet moment that morning.

“Was it this hectic all week?” Mariah had barely had a chance to take off her sweater. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Pilots had been coming and going every few minutes, and they all seemed to need something—a scheduling change, a form, some information. It hadn’t helped that Christian was having a crisis of his own over the Freemont account. He spent much of the morning ranting and raving, unable to locate various crucial documents. Every time, it was Mariah who quietly and efficiently silenced him by supplying whatever he needed.

“We pretty much handled everything ourselves,” Sawyer answered, “but we’re sure glad you’re back.”

“You can say that again,” Christian seconded, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. Sawyer glanced at his brother and then at Mariah. He considered them shrewdly.

Mariah sat down and turned on her computer. The hard drive had begun its familiar hum when Christian ended his telephone conversation and approached her desk.

“I’m going to need you to make travel arrangements for me,” he told her.

“Of course.” Christian would be traveling? Somewhat surprised, she reached for a pencil and pad.

“I’ll be visiting my mother in British Columbia and then stopping in Seattle.”

“That won’t be any problem. How long will you be away?” Picking up the small calendar on her desk, she waited for him to give her the dates.

“Say, ten days from Friday—” he pointed to the end of that week “—until Sunday of the following week. And I’d like reservations at our usual hotel in Seattle. Oh, and Scott and Susan will be traveling with me as far as Vancouver. I’ll go on to Seattle Monday or Tuesday, then back to Vancouver and home.”

“I’ll see to everything this afternoon,” Mariah promised.

“While you’re at it, could you get me the names of a couple of five-star Seattle restaurants?” Christian asked.

“Restaurants.” She made a notation on her pad. “I know of a number in the downtown area that cater to businessmen.” And Tracy would be happy to give her suggestions, too.

“I wasn’t thinking of a business dinner,” Christian said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be seeing a...friend while I’m in town. A good friend.”

A few minutes later, Mariah was on the phone with the airline when she happened to overhear the two brothers talking.

“A friend?” Sawyer asked.

“Yeah, Allison Reynolds.” Even from across the room, she saw Christian’s eyes brighten with what could only be described as excitement. “You might remember her,” he added.

Mariah felt as if she’d been slapped. No one needed to tell her who Allison Reynolds was—the secretary Mariah had replaced.

“You’re going to be seeing Allison?” Sawyer asked, lowering his voice, obviously afraid Mariah would hear. Well, it was too late; she’d already heard.

“Yeah,” Christian murmured, preoccupied with a fax. “I talked to her the other night and promised to call her back as soon as I knew when I’d be arriving. I’m hoping I’ll convince her to give Hard Luck a second chance.”

Sawyer held on to his pencil with both hands and darted a look toward Mariah. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“Why isn’t it?” Christian asked, his voice equally low. He set aside the fax and confronted his brother openly. “She’s beautiful, witty, charming and we’d be fortunate to have her. Let’s talk about this later, all right?”

Sawyer frowned.

Mariah couldn’t believe her ears. Christian actually planned on luring her replacement to Hard Luck. Furthermore, he expected her to make the arrangements!

* * *

“Mom, should I pack my Barbie playhouse?” Susan called from her bedroom.

Abbey took the towel from the dryer, folded it and set it on the washer. “No, sweetheart. You can only take one suitcase each. You won’t have room for all your Barbie things.”

“You know my mother’s going to spoil those kids, don’t you?” Sawyer said, leaning against the laundry-room door.

“I know. Scott and Susan will be impossible to live with by the time they return.”

“But we’ll have an entire week to ourselves.” Sawyer waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I sincerely hope you intend to spoil me next week.”

Abbey kissed her husband and nuzzled her nose against his. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Sawyer’s eyes gleamed. “Barbie and Ken will play while the kids are away.”

“Sawyer!”

Her husband chuckled and slid his arms around her waist. “It’s too bad Christian will be gone, too, because that means I won’t be able to get away much myself.”

“We’ll manage,” Abbey assured him.

“A second honeymoon,” Sawyer murmured, grinning provocatively. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I still haven’t recovered from the first one.”

“You seem to have done pretty well for yourself!”

“Mom, Dad, you’ll remember to feed Eagle Catcher, won’t you?” Scott asked, poking his head into the laundry room.

Her son seemed genuinely concerned, as if he wasn’t sure he should trust them with his much-loved friend, even if it was only for ten days. And even if he’d once been Sawyer’s dog.

“We’ll remember,” she said.

“It’s important, Mom,” Scott insisted. “This is just the second time we’ve been separated, and Eagle Catcher might worry. I had a long talk with him, but I’m not sure he understood.”

“I promise we’ll remember,” Sawyer told him solemnly.

“Good.” Scott looked relieved and disappeared.

Sawyer gently patted Abbey’s protruding stomach. “This time alone will be good for us,” he told her, his eyes serious. “After the baby arrives, everything will change.”

Abbey knew her husband was right, but it would be a wonderful kind of change. So far the pregnancy had caused her almost no trouble, physically or emotionally. No morning sickness, no drastic mood swings. She loved Scott and Susan with a ferocity only a mother could understand, but their pregnancies had drained her. It was different with Sawyer’s baby. The comfort of his love, the assurance that he’d move heaven and earth on her behalf, eased her worries.

“Mom!” Susan screeched from the hallway. “Should I pack my Bible?”

Abbey sighed and pressed her forehead against Sawyer’s shoulder. “I’d better go supervise those two.” She called to the kids that she’d be there in a minute.

“I’ll finish up here,” Sawyer said, gathering the rest of the towels from the dryer.

“Sawyer.”

When he turned around, she leaned forward and kissed him with a hunger they generally reserved for the bedroom.

A low rumble of arousal came from her husband as she started to leave. Sawyer caught her hand. “What was that all about?”

She offered him a saucy smile. “Just a sample of what’s available later.”

“How much later?”

Abbey smiled again and stroked his face. “As soon as the kids are gone, you and I can pick up where that left off.” She walked out of the laundry room, but not before she noticed Sawyer staring at his watch, calculating the hours before they’d be alone.

* * *

Allison Reynolds was as beautiful as Christian remembered. Even more so. Heads turned when they walked into the five-star restaurant. He’d never realized how much a beautiful woman could improve a man’s image and raise his self-esteem. He had no doubt that he was the envy of every man there. Any vague, nagging thoughts about superficial values or shallow choices were easy enough to suppress.

He hadn’t been in the Seattle hotel five minutes before he made a point of phoning Allison. He’d made another phone call, too, but this one was to Hard Luck. He’d had to call Mariah regarding a variety of subjects, all of them business-related.

It might have been his imagination, but her greeting had seemed decidedly cool. He wasn’t sure what to make of her chilly tone, but whatever the problem, Sawyer could handle it. As for him, he was taking a well-deserved break from the office. He was willing to admit privately that his business dealings in Seattle, however necessary, were a pretext; his primary reason for coming here had to do with the beauty on his arm.

“I have a reservation for seven o’clock,” Christian informed the maître d’.

Allison smiled up at him sweetly, and it was all he could do to pull his gaze away. He’d been mildly surprised by her dress; short and slinky, it revealed every curve of her luscious body. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. But the front was deeply cut, and that appeared to bring her a lot of unwanted attention—unwanted, at least, by him. He was the one buying her dinner, and he wasn’t all that pleased to be sharing her, even vicariously, with anyone else.

“This way,” the man said, tucking two menus under his arm. The restaurant had been one of Mariah’s recommendations, and she’d chosen well. He’d have to thank her when he returned. The dim interior suited him perfectly. Lights from the waterfront shimmered on the glass-smooth surface of Elliott Bay. A ferry sailed in the distance, its lights blazing.

“This place is great,” Allison said once they were seated.

“My secretary chose it.” He had to stop himself from telling Allison about Mariah. The stories would have them both in stitches, but he didn’t want to spend the evening thinking about Mariah. Although her lack of friendliness earlier today continued to nag at him...

Allison leaned forward. “I’m so glad you found someone else to work for you. Personally I can’t imagine anyone lasting more than a day or two in that desolation.”

Desolation. The Arctic? Hard Luck? Why, it was one of the most beautiful places on earth! Give him home any day of the week over the smog and traffic of the big city. Even a city as pleasing to the eye as Seattle. The noise alone had kept him awake most of the night. Street sounds had reverberated from the cluttered avenues and echoed against the skyscrapers. And in his expensive hotel, he’d heard the elevator and laughter in the halls and the TV next door. No wonder he felt suddenly tired and let down.

Christian roused himself. “What would you like?” he asked, studying the menu. He made his choice quickly. Blackened salmon, one of his favorites.

Allison’s huge blue eyes met his. “I’m watching my diet, you know.”

She seemed to be waiting for him to tell her she was perfect as she was and that dieting would be ridiculous. Christian didn’t. He’d never understood what it was about women and their weight. They seemed to feel it was a topic men found fascinating. Well, he, for one, found it boring. Nor did he think someone like Allison needed to fish for compliments.

“I’ll have a salad,” she said sweetly. “No dressing. You’d never guess how many grams of fat there are in salad dressing. Someone told me just the other day that it would be less fattening to eat a hot fudge sundae than to put dressing on lettuce. Can you imagine?”

Christian smiled benignly.

The waiter came for their order, and Allison took five minutes to give hers. She explained precisely how she wanted her salad. He’d never met a woman who requested sliced cucumbers on the side. And that wasn’t all—she had to have her radishes cut a certain way and only on one half of the salad. He was impressed that the waiter could write it all down and keep a straight face.

While Allison was giving her detailed instructions, the memory of his dinner with Mariah at the Sourdough Café came to mind. There’d been no talk of salad ingredients with her. Nor did she drag him into ridiculous conversations about grams of fat and hot fudge sundaes.

Unfortunately the dinner conversation didn’t improve. Allison discussed the color of her fingernail polish in great detail. When Christian introduced another topic, she found a way of immediately bringing it back to herself and telling him about a new skin cream on the market.

It became something of a game, watching her manipulate the conversation to reflect her own interests—such as they were. Not once did she ask about the people she’d met on her brief trip to Hard Luck.

“Oh, I’ve got a new job now,” she said casually when he mentioned her old one. “Actually this is the second job I’ve had in the past year.”

Christian nodded in seeming interest, and she went on, “When I met you I was working for Pierce. He was a friend of my old boyfriend, Cary. But after I got back from Hawaii and went to see you, Pierce said he needed someone he could depend on. He didn’t like me taking vacation time.” She pursed her lips slightly. “He didn’t even pay me for my days off.”

“How long did you work for Pierce?”

“About a month.”

“A month. You didn’t have any vacation time due you.”

“That’s what Pierce said. Only he sounded really mad. You know, some men aren’t very nice. I worked for him one full month and his benefits were lousy.”

Christian found it difficult to follow Allison’s conversation from that point forward. Several times she brought up names he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. Instead, his thoughts drifted to the year before, when he’d first met Allison. It astonished him that he hadn’t seen through her then. The woman wasn’t interested in working; she was looking for “benefits,” and it seemed to him she wasn’t just talking about paid holidays. She wanted a free ride.

When at last they’d finished their meal and were walking out of the restaurant, Christian was once again aware of several envious stares. Only this time it didn’t raise his self-esteem. Sure, he’d enjoyed his blackened salmon, and the Washington-made wine had been some of the best he’d tasted, but he’d rather have eaten at Ben’s or the Sourdough Café. As for his dinner companion—the truth was, he’d become disenchanted.

Later, when he dropped Allison off in front of her apartment, she flexed her long nails over his thigh. “Would you like to come up for a nightcap?” she asked. Her beautiful eyes invited him for more.

“Not tonight.”

He helped her out of the car and walked her to her door.

“When will I see you again?” Her voice rolled from her lips like silk.

Christian had made the mistake of letting her know his schedule. “I’ll call you,” he said.

She gave him a hurt-little-girl pout. Her eyes rounded with a practiced look of disappointment. “You will phone me, won’t you, Chris? I’d be so unhappy if you didn’t.”

Christian couldn’t get away fast enough. They’d be raising huskies in hell before he’d agree to spend a second evening with the likes of Allison Reynolds.

After returning to his hotel room, Christian sat on the edge of the bed. It was hard to believe he’d been so blinded by her earlier. Because he was restless and angry, he reached for the phone and dialed Sawyer’s home number.

“Hello,” Sawyer answered impatiently.

“It’s me.”

“Christian? What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he said, then wondered if that was true. Rarely had he felt so disappointed, so disillusioned, but he couldn’t entirely blame his dinner date. His own willful blindness had something to do with it. “You remember Allison, don’t you?”

“Of course I remember her. Listen, if you’re calling to sing her praises, you’ve caught me at an inopportune moment. You seem to have forgotten that Abbey and I are having our second honeymoon. She’s decided to re-create the night we attended the luau. Grass skirt, leis, the whole deal. D’you mind if we talk about the sex goddess another time?”

“Trust me, Allison is no goddess.”

“Not you, honey,” Christian heard his brother explain to Abbey. “I was talking about another sex goddess. One far less gorgeous than you.”

“I’ll talk to you when I get home,” Christian said. Chuckling to himself, he replaced the receiver.

A year ago, he’d been completely wrapped up in Allison. He wasn’t sure who’d changed in the past twelve months. Allison or him? But she wasn’t at all how he’d remembered her.

A year ago, Christian had been thrilled when Allison had agreed, after some fast talking on his part, to give Hard Luck a try. Unfortunately, because of business commitments, he’d been unable to greet her personally when she arrived.

For an entire year he’d believed someone had said or done something to offend her. When he discovered she’d returned to Seattle after only one night in Hard Luck, he’d been furious. Not that there was anything he could do while he was on the road. He’d made one feeble attempt to contact her, but because he was busy with other things, he’d dropped the matter.

For twelve long months, he’d been convinced the people of Hard Luck had been at fault. The other women were jealous of Allison’s natural beauty and had gone out of their way to make her feel unwanted. The list of possibilities had mounted—but there’d only been one reason Allison had left. A reason he hadn’t seen until that very evening.

A vain, selfish woman wouldn’t last more than a day in a town like Hard Luck. Allison had said it herself, although she’d meant something very different. And a day was exactly how long she’d stayed.

* * *

Mariah thought she’d never been this miserable. There wasn’t enough deep-dish pizza in the world to get her through the night, but that didn’t keep her away from the Hard Luck Café.

Christian was in Seattle dining with the beautiful, sophisticated Allison Reynolds. He didn’t think she knew, but she did, and that made everything worse.

Although she’d never met her, Mariah had heard everything she needed to know from the few women who remembered Allison’s brief visit.

Right that moment, Christian and Allison were at a waterfront restaurant rated as one of the country’s top ten. Mariah didn’t want to consider what they’d do after dinner. Dancing. Stargazing. Kissing. The image of another woman in Christian’s arms was just too painful to contemplate. Nor did she care to dwell on how his relationship with Allison would affect her position with Midnight Sons.

She knew that Christian would do practically anything to get Allison back in Hard Luck.

Allison was a secretary. And so was she.

Given the choice, Christian would pick Allison over her any day of the week. And she figured that, to keep the peace, Sawyer would ultimately agree to letting her go in favor of Allison.

“What can I do for you?” Ben asked.

Mariah sat at the table closest to the counter. “Do you have any pizza left?”

“The one with four kinds of cheese and all the extras?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “I suspect I’ve got a couple tucked away in the freezer,” he told her. “I generally don’t bake them unless I have a special request.”

“Would you be willing to consider this a special request?” Mariah asked. “It’s a food emergency.”

“A food emergency,” Ben repeated, grinning. “Hey, I like that.” He raised his hand and read the imaginary words, pointing one finger as he spoke. “Hard Luck Café, specializing in food emergencies.” Then the amusement left his eyes, and he muttered, “It might go over better than my frequent-eater program.”

“Could you feed me the pizza intravenously?” she joked, but it was a struggle.

Ben pulled out a chair and sat down next to her. “What’s the problem, kiddo?”

Mariah knew that a lot of the men in town talked to Ben; he was a good sounding board and a faithful friend. She liked and trusted him, but she wasn’t comfortable talking about the situation between her and Christian. It didn’t seem fair to unburden her soul to a friend of the O’Hallorans.

“I don’t have anything one of your pizzas won’t cure,” she assured him.

“Coming right up.” Ben stood and patted her affectionately on the shoulder. “You want anything to go with that?”

“Diet soda,” she told him, knowing he’d find humor in her downing his million-calorie pizza with a diet drink.

“This could take a while,” he said on his way to the kitchen. “The oven’s got to heat up first.”

“No problem.”

There were dirty lunch dishes on a couple of the tables, and because she felt too restless to sit there doing nothing, Mariah cleared them away.

“Thanks,” Ben told her as she carried the dishes into the kitchen. “I meant to do that earlier.”

“Anything else you need help with?” she asked.

“Nah.”

But when she’d brought in the dishes from the second table, she noticed that some of the paper-napkin dispensers were empty. She asked Ben about that.

“I’ve been meaning to fill those, too, but I got sidetracked.”

“I’ll do it,” she said, eager to occupy her hands while she waited for her food.

“I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately,” Ben admitted. “Guess I’d better stop watching those late-night talk shows.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be needing extra help?” she asked hopefully. “Someone to wait tables, wash dishes, fill the napkin dispensers, that sort of thing.”

“You serious?”

More than he knew. If everything went according to Christian’s plan, her boss was about to lure the beautiful Allison Reynolds back to Hard Luck and offer her Mariah’s job.

“I’m very serious,” she told Ben.

“Actually I’ve been thinking about getting some help for a while now. In fact, I was about to ask Christian to pass along some of the applications he collected last year.”

“I thought business was, uh, down a bit.” She spoke as tactfully as she could. She’d heard that a decrease in customers was the reason he’d started the frequent-eater program.

“It’s not so bad lately,” Ben said, leaning against the counter. “I’m here 365 days a year. You can’t blame a man for wanting a break now and then. Have you got someone in mind for the job?”

Mariah nodded.

“Who?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Me.”

“You?”

Despite her best efforts, her lower lip quivered slightly. “Christian’s in Seattle and he...he’s with Allison Reynolds.”

“Listen, Mariah, I don’t know what he sees in that woman, but trust me, your position with Midnight Sons is safe! Sawyer isn’t going to let him replace you with anyone.”

“I’ve known for a long time that Christian would love to get rid of me.”

“I’m not saying whether that’s true or not, but I will say that his attitude underwent a...minor adjustment the week you were away.”

“Well, that’s nice,” she murmured a little sarcastically. “But he’d do anything to convince Allison to move here. He’s been hung up on her all year.”

Ben didn’t argue. Rubbing the side of his jaw, he frowned. “I don’t know what to advise you.”

“If you don’t hire me, maybe Pete Livengood will,” she said. “He might need someone to stock shelves for him.”

“Now don’t do anything rash.” Ben patted her hand. “Sawyer’s always been on your side, no matter how much Christian griped.”

Which was another way of telling her that Christian had done plenty of griping.

The oven buzzed in the background. “Let me get your pizza into the oven and I’ll be right back,” Ben told her, scurrying to the kitchen.

She could apply for a position with the state, too, she mused while he was gone. But if she got a government job, it was unlikely she’d be able to continue living in Hard Luck, which made the idea less appealing.

“You sure you’d want to work in a restaurant?” Ben asked when he returned. His look was thoughtful.

“I’m positive.” The way she saw things, she wouldn’t have much of a choice.

“If you don’t want to stay with Midnight Sons anymore, you can have a job right here.”

Four

The lump in Mariah’s throat wouldn’t go away. The computer screen blurred as her eyes filled with unshed tears. Swallowing hard, she quickly typed out her letter of resignation. Every word was like the end of a dream, the end of her hopes. The printer spewed out the single sheet, and she took a few minutes to compose herself before signing it.

When Mariah was fairly certain she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by bursting into tears, she brought the letter to Sawyer.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing up from his computer terminal.

“I’m giving you my notice.”

Sawyer’s gaze shot to hers in disbelief. “You’re quitting?”

She nodded, then said with forced cheerfulness, “It’s been a wonderful experience, but as Christian pointed out, my contract is up. I’d agreed to work for Midnight Sons for a year, and—” she shrugged “—it’s time to move on.”

“Is it the money?” Sawyer asked with a dumbfounded look. “Are you unhappy with the benefits package?”

“No. You’ve always been more than generous.”

“But...” Sawyer didn’t seem to know what to say. She realized she’d taken him by surprise, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d made her decision and felt it was the right one.

“In that case, can I ask why you want to leave?” Sawyer asked. “Especially now?”

“For one thing, I can see the writing on the wall,” she told him, struggling to keep her voice even. “I overheard Christian telling you he wants to bring Allison Reynolds back to Hard Luck. There simply isn’t enough work to occupy two full-time secretaries. Allison was the one he wanted from the first. I... I have what I want—the cabin and the twenty acres of land.”

“Now, listen, there’s no way on earth I’m going to let my brother hire Allison Reynolds,” Sawyer insisted. “Your position here is secure, I promise you.” Fire glowed in his eyes as if battle loomed on the horizon and he was ready to take aim. Brother against brother.

“I appreciate what you’re saying, and I thank you, but you and I both know that Christian—”

“It’s not going to happen, Mariah,” Sawyer said from between clenched teeth. “I won’t let it.”

He was making this more difficult than she’d expected. She’d assumed she would hand in her notice, and he’d put up a token fuss, then release her. What shocked her was the vehemence with which he argued.

“Thank you, Sawyer. I’m grateful for what you’re trying to do, but the last thing I want is to cause dissension between you and Christian. It’s pretty obvious that he’d prefer to work with Allison.”

“Why don’t we wait until Christian’s back?” he suggested. “There’s no need to jump to conclusions. I talked to him last night, and he didn’t mention bringing Allison back with him.” He paused and seemed to reconsider. “But then, I suppose I didn’t give him an opportunity to say much.”

“It’s too late, Sawyer. I already have another job.”

This seemed to shock him even more. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Who...where?”

“The Hard Luck Café. I’m going to work for Ben.”

“Since when did Ben Hamilton need a secretary?” Sawyer demanded. He made it sound as if Ben had stolen her away from him.

“Not a secretary,” Mariah hurried to explain. “He needs help in the kitchen.”

“You’re qualified to cook?”

“I won’t be responsible for the cooking,” she clarified. “I’ll wait tables and clean up and...and things like that. Ben’s been running the café on his own all these years. It’s time he relaxed and left the small stuff to someone else.”

“Ben!” Sawyer said the name in a tone that implied his longtime friend had turned traitor.

“I asked him about the job,” Mariah pointed out. She didn’t want to cause trouble between Ben and the O’Hallorans any more than she wanted to between the two brothers.

Sawyer reread her letter and frowned anew. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

Was she sure? Mariah didn’t know anymore. From what Christian and the others had said, Allison Reynolds was a real beauty; he was clearly besotted with her. Mariah didn’t stand a chance of winning Christian’s heart. It wasn’t easy to walk away from this job—or from Christian—but she had to, for the sake of her sanity. And for the sake of her pride, she had to convince Sawyer she was perfectly content to give up her duties with Midnight Sons. She had to be certain he’d never know how much it hurt.

“I’m sure,” she said, revealing nothing.

Sawyer pinched the bridge of his nose. “In that case there’s not much I can say.”

* * *

“What do you mean, Mariah quit?” Christian shouted into the phone.

“She gave me her notice first thing this morning,” Sawyer said, sounding none too pleased.

“She can’t do that!”

“Why can’t she?” Sawyer asked impatiently. “It’s a free country. We can’t force her to work for us if she doesn’t want to.”

Christian stood, forgetting that the receiver was connected to the telephone on the hotel nightstand. He started to pace and the phone fell with a discordant clang. For an instant he was afraid he’d severed the connection.

“You there?” he asked his brother.

“Yes. What happened?”

“Nothing. I dropped the phone.” Christian rammed his fingers into his dark blond hair and winced at the unexpected twinge of pain. “You might’ve tried talking her into staying.”

“I talked until I was blue in the face. I tried everything short of out-and-out bribery. I have to tell you, Christian, I blame you for this. You haven’t done a damn thing to help, you know.”

“How can I help when you’re in Hard Luck and I’m in Seattle?” His irritation was fast turning to anger. This whole business with Mariah didn’t make sense. It should’ve been obvious to Sawyer—to anyone with half a brain—how crucial it was to keep Mariah with Midnight Sons. She knew more about the office than the two brothers combined. True, there’d been a time, not so long ago, when he’d have willingly replaced her. But he’d undergone a change of heart in the week she’d been away. And the week he’d been away...

“It seems to me I’m the one stuck here with all the problems,” Sawyer said, his voice hard. “As I recall, last year you were off in Seattle dating your cover model, and I had to deal with the avalanche of problems you’d created. It’s the same thing all over again.”

“Now just a minute—”

Sawyer didn’t allow him to finish. “You’d better remember exactly whose idea it was to bring women to Hard Luck in the first place.”

“Yeah, but if it wasn’t for me you’d never have met Abbey.” Christian played his trump card before this argument with his brother could deteriorate any further.

Sawyer sighed deeply, and Christian could virtually hear his anger drain away. “True.”

“I’ll talk to Mariah myself,” Christian said, feeling confident he’d succeed where his brother had failed. If she’d listen to anyone, it would be him. He felt they’d come to an understanding in the last while. Mended fences and all that.

“Fine, but you should know that it’s because of you she’s decided to quit.”

“Me?” Sawyer must have misunderstood. His relationship with Mariah had taken a dramatic turn for the better. Or so he’d assumed.

“She seems to think you’re bringing Allison back with you, so she’s stepped aside.”

“You’re joking! What made her think that?”

Sawyer’s frustration was palpable. “You did, little brother. You managed all of this single-handedly.”

“Me? How?”

“You told me you planned to talk Allison into giving Hard Luck another shot.”

He’d said that? Christian pressed his hand against his brow. “Well, I didn’t. She’s not coming.”

Christian’s words were followed by a stiff silence. “That wasn’t the impression you gave me,” Sawyer eventually said. “And Mariah overheard the conversation.”

Christian cursed.

“Mariah felt that if Allison returned to Hard Luck, there wouldn’t be enough work for two full-time secretaries.”

“You’d better let me talk to Mariah,” Christian muttered. “I’ll straighten this out.”

“It’s too late,” Sawyer said with a heavy sigh. “She’s already got another job. Apparently she and Ben have come up with this scheme—”

“Mariah and Ben?”

“Right. She’s going to be his assistant, help in the kitchen, wait tables, that sort of thing.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“I swear it’s true.”

“Let me talk to her,” Christian demanded again. He could foresee trouble already—for Ben, as well as for Midnight Sons. Obviously Ben hadn’t remembered how clumsy Mariah was. He’d never known a woman more inclined to trip over her own feet.

“She isn’t here,” Sawyer murmured. “I have a feeling we’re going to lose the best secretary we ever had, and frankly, Christian, I hold you responsible.”

This didn’t seem to be the moment to remind Sawyer that Mariah was the first and only secretary Midnight Sons had ever had.

* * *

No one responded to Bethany’s knock at the back door of the Hard Luck Café. She tried again, then turned the knob—the door was open. She let herself inside.

“Ben?” she called.

No answer. A sliver of light peered out from beneath the door that led upstairs to Ben’s private quarters.

Bethany opened the door and peered up the stairway. “Ben!” she called again. Smiling to herself, she climbed the stairs. More than likely he was asleep in his chair.

She was right. He lay stretched out on the recliner, the television guide on his lap. His head was tipped back, and he was snoring lightly.

“Ben.” Bethany pressed her hand over his.

His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked. “Bethany? What time is it?”

“Nine.”

“Nine,” he repeated. “That’s early yet.”

“Yes, I know.”

He leaned forward, yawning, then reached for the remote control and turned off the TV. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Guess I’m beginning to feel my age. Soon I’ll be an old man.”

Shaking her head, Bethany sat down on the love seat. “Not you. Never you.”

She could see that her words pleased him. “It’s good to see you. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. “Mitch is on patrol and Chrissie’s spending the night with a friend. She’s been beside herself not knowing what to do while Susan O’Halloran’s on vacation. Those two have gotten so tight that Chrissie’s lost without her. I think it’s a good idea for her to make other friends.”

“Are you ready for school?” Ben asked.

“Yes. No,” Bethany quickly amended, and then because she couldn’t hold the news inside any longer, she blurted it out. “I’m pregnant.”

Ben’s feet slid off the recliner and hit the floor. “Pregnant!”

“Mitch and I are just as surprised—almost.” She nearly laughed aloud at his incredulous look.

“But you haven’t been married very long.”

“I know. We didn’t plan to have a baby this soon, that’s for sure. It was just...one of those things.”

Ben’s eyes lit up. “Unplanned pregnancies are sometimes the very best kind,” he said, nodding sagely.

Bethany knew he was referring to her own birth. He’d had an affair with her mother before leaving for Vietnam, and because of a disagreement, he’d never known Marilyn was pregnant. He’d never known of his daughter’s existence. Bethany had learned Peter Ross wasn’t her biological father while she was in college, after her mother had experienced a cancer scare. As the years progressed, Bethany had become increasingly curious about the man who’d fathered her. With a bit of detective work and the help of the American Red Cross, she’d been able to trace Ben to Hard Luck.

Soon afterward, she’d applied for a teaching position in the tiny Arctic community, hoping to meet him.

Bethany had never intended to confront Ben with the truth, but she was relieved—and happy—that she had. In many ways they were very alike, and in others completely dissimilar. No one in town, other than her husband, knew Bethany’s true relationship to Ben, although she wondered why no one had guessed. Ben was fiercely proud of her and staunchly protective; she felt the same about him.

“A baby,” Ben repeated, grinning broadly. “How does Mitch feel about this?”

“When I first told him, he was floored, but it didn’t take him long to adjust. The baby’s due in the spring. We told Chrissie this evening, and she’s thrilled. I can tell she’s going to be a wonderful big sister.”

“Have you told your mother and father?”

“Oh, yes. They’re thrilled.”

“I’m thrilled for you, too, sweetheart.”

“It still takes some getting used to. I’m just becoming accustomed to being a wife and stepmom, and now I’m about to be a mother.”

Ben chuckled. “Try finding out that you’re a father at my age—that’s what I call a bombshell. As for your little one, personally, I think of the baby as a delightful surprise.”

Bethany smiled, relaxing against the cushions. “What’s this wild rumor I’ve been hearing about your taking on an assistant?”

“It’s true,” Ben said. “Mariah Douglas is coming to work with me.”

“But... I thought she was the secretary for the O’Hallorans.”

“She is—was. What I understand, she’s already handed in her notice. Sawyer’s annoyed with me, but it’s not my fault—Mariah approached me. The way I figure it, she already had her heart set on leaving Midnight Sons. I tried to convince her to stay with the O’Hallorans, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“You’d think Christian would be pleased. He’s been looking for a way to be rid of her from the moment I met him,” Bethany recalled.

“Apparently he’s had a change of heart.”

“Isn’t that just a like a man?” Bethany muttered, shaking her head. “They don’t know what they want.”

* * *

Christian had never been this eager to get back to Hard Luck. In the past several days he’d talked to Sawyer half-a-dozen times. And every time, he’d hung up frustrated—and confused.

As far as he could grasp, Sawyer had released Mariah from serving out her full two-week notice, and the woman his brother had referred to as “the best secretary they’d ever had” was gone.

Scott and Susan were just as eager to be home. Christian had collected them from his mother’s, and Ralph Ferris flew into Fairbanks to meet their commercial flight. The short hop between Fairbanks and Hard Luck felt longer than the flight from Vancouver to Anchorage.

By the time the plane touched down in Hard Luck, Christian had his conversation with Mariah all figured out.

Sawyer and Abbey were at the airfield waiting for Scott and Susan. The kids leaped out of the plane and raced toward their parents, full of talk about their visit with Grandma Ellen and Grandpa Robert.

Christian waited impatiently for a moment alone with Sawyer. “Where is she?” he asked abruptly.

Sawyer blinked at him, wearing a baffled expression. “Oh, you mean Mariah.”

Who else would he have been referring to? “Yes, I mean Mariah.”

“Ben’s, I’d guess. She spends every day there, now that she no longer works for us.” Judging by the edge in Sawyer’s voice, he still seemed to place the blame squarely on Christian’s shoulders. He’d settle the issue with his brother later, Christian decided.

“Who’s minding the office?” Surely Sawyer wasn’t so irresponsible as to leave it unattended. The flight service had grown by thirty percent in the past year, thanks partly to the boom in population. An answering machine no longer met their needs, and Sawyer knew that.

“Lanni’s agreed to step in for now, but she’s got her own work, you know. I told her it wouldn’t take you long to find Mariah’s replacement.”

“Me?” he exploded. He’d left for a few measly days, and meanwhile his brother let all hell break loose, then calmly announced it was his responsibility to set everything right.

“Yeah, you,” Sawyer returned, eyes snapping. “If you’ll recall, you spent the better part of a month interviewing job applicants. I don’t even know where you filed the résumés.”

“I didn’t file them. Mariah did.”

“Ask her, then. All I can say is we need to hire someone and quick. It isn’t fair to Lanni to keep her tied up at the office. She’s got better things to do with her time than answer our phones.”

“You might have discussed it with me first,” he argued.

“I would’ve if you’d been here,” Sawyer said in a disgusted voice.

Christian didn’t deign to respond. It was clear that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Sawyer when his brother was in this cantankerous frame of mind. Sawyer unfairly blamed him for Mariah’s sudden need to become a waitress. Well, he wasn’t going to accept the blame!

As soon as Christian had dropped off his suitcase at home, he headed over to the Hard Luck Café. First thing he noticed when he walked in the door were the tablecloths—not plastic, either. A vase of wildflowers on each table added a touch of color and warmth. On the chalkboard, where Ben wrote the daily dinner special, someone had drawn yellow daisies.

Ralph Ferris sat at one of the tables, reading the menu, which also looked new. They acknowledged each other with a brief nod.

Christian stepped up to the counter the way he always did and pulled out a stool. He nearly slid onto the floor—the stools had been newly padded and recovered in shiny black vinyl.

It certainly hadn’t taken Mariah long to leave her mark on the café.

She was busy making coffee, and apparently didn’t hear him come in.

“Did you want coffee?” she called to Ralph over her shoulder.

“Please,” Ralph called back.

Mariah turned with a full pot in her hand—and saw Christian sitting at the counter. She gave a start, and the glass carafe slipped from her fingers. It shattered, and hot coffee splashed across the polished floor.

“Oh, no!” Luckily Mariah had jumped back in time to avoid getting burned.

It took a determined effort on Christian’s part not to call attention to the accident. He merely shook his head. Poor Ben. He didn’t have a clue what he was letting himself in for when he’d hired Mariah.

“What happened?” Ben stuck his head out from the kitchen.

“I—I broke the coffeepot.”

Christian waited for the cook to start bellowing. Ben wasn’t known for his patience, and if ever a woman was born to try men’s souls, it was Mariah Douglas.

He’d give Ben a week; then he’d be begging Christian and Sawyer to take her off his hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben said, reaching for the mop. “I’ve got plenty of pots. You weren’t burned, were you?”

“No. I’m fine.” Her eyes flew to Christian, narrowing as if she blamed him for the accident. He hadn’t done a thing, yet everyone in Hard Luck was ready to go for his jugular.

“Your coffee’ll be just a minute,” Mariah told Ralph.

“No problem,” the bush pilot assured her. He unfolded the Fairbanks newspaper and disappeared behind it.

“I’ll take a cup when you get around to it,” Christian said, righting the ceramic mug in front of him. He might be risking his life asking her to pour it for him, but it was a risk he’d have to take.

Mariah refilled another glass pot from the large percolator. He noted that her hand shook slightly as she filled his mug. “When did you get back?” she asked conversationally. Christian wasn’t fooled; she’d been the one to arrange his itinerary. She knew his travel schedule as well as he did.

“This afternoon.”

Mariah pulled an order pad from her apron pocket. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a piece of apple pie.”

Mariah called back the order to Ben, who appeared a couple of minutes later with a large slice of pie. He set it in front of Christian and eyed him warily, as if anticipating a confrontation.

Christian figured he didn’t need to say a word. Within a week, when Ben was out of coffeepots and patience, he’d recognize that Mariah was never cut out to be a waitress.

“How’s it going?” Christian asked Ben, tipping his head toward Mariah, who was busy serving Ralph his lunch. He’d apparently ordered the day’s special—meatloaf sandwich, with a bowl of beef-and-barley soup.

“With Mariah?” Ben grinned. “Great. Just great.” He gestured toward the tables. “Have you ever seen my place look better? Mariah’s responsible for all the fancy touches. I don’t know why I delayed hiring someone for so long. She’s the best thing that’s happened to the café since I got in the soft-ice-cream machine.”

Christian took a bite of the pie and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, this is great! What’s different?”

“Mariah baked it.”

“Mariah?” Ben could’ve knocked him over with a flick of his finger.

“It’s her grandmother’s recipe. Best apple pie I’ve ever tasted. As far as I’m concerned, she can do all the baking around here, she’s that good.”

Christian was confused, to put it mildly. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Mariah?”

Ben chuckled. “I’m sure.” The cook drifted back to the kitchen, but Christian wasn’t alone for long. Mariah hurried to bring him the small canister of cream.

“I—I forgot you like your coffee with cream, don’t you?”

Christian didn’t bother to correct her. “Do you have a minute?” he asked.

She hesitated. “The dinner crowd will start coming in any time now.”

It was barely four; a poor excuse. “I’d appreciate it if you could sit down and chat for a few minutes.”

“All right.” But her reluctance was obvious. She walked around the counter to sit on the stool next to him. Folding her hands on the counter, she waited for Christian to speak.

“Allison didn’t come with me,” he said, wanting to clear the air about that immediately. He understood her concern and was willing to admit that he’d been sadly remiss in mentioning the other woman in Mariah’s presence. He’d seen the error of his ways; now he wanted her back. They’d just begun to find their footing with each other, and it seemed a shame to end it all so abruptly. And unnecessarily.

Three months ago—three weeks ago—he would’ve cheered to see her leave Midnight Sons. But not now.

“Sawyer already told me she wouldn’t be coming.” Her gaze met his straight on.

“Then why’d you decide to quit?”

“It never really worked out between you and me.”

“Things were improving, though, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. Only you...”

“Yes?” he pressed.

“You wanted a different secretary.”

“I don’t anymore,” he said, growing impatient. It occurred to him to tell her he’d made a mistake, to apologize, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

“I’m already committed to working for Ben,” she said, and she did sound mildly regretful. “Do you like the pie?”

At the moment it was stuck in his throat, but he managed to respond with a quick nod.

“So your mind’s made up?” he asked, pushing back his plate.

“Yes.” She eyed him expectantly, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to plead with her. Well, there’d be frost in the Caribbean before he’d grovel! If she didn’t want to work for Midnight Sons, fine. There were stacks of applications from women clamoring for the opportunity to move north. He’d met a number of them a year ago.

“Fine.” He stood and paid for the pie. “We’re sorry to see you go, but what the hey, right? You were with us for a year and it was fun.”

“Yes,” she said, but she didn’t sound so sure that it was fun.

Christian walked back to the mobile office. Their conversation hadn’t gone nearly as well as he’d assumed it would. Perhaps he should’ve waited a day or two. Rushing over to Ben’s the minute the plane landed made him look too eager; that had been a tactical error. Still, he had other options, and he planned to exercise them, starting now.

Christian opened the top drawer of the filing cabinet and sorted through a sequence of file folders, searching for the one that contained the applications he’d received the summer before. It took a while, but he eventually located what he needed, and without any help from Mariah.

With the precious folder clutched tightly in his hand, he walked over to his desk and sat down. Reading through the top three applications instantly lifted his spirits. Plenty of women had been interested in this position.

“Ramona Cummings,” he said aloud, remembering his interview with the dark-haired beauty. Gleefully he punched out the phone number.

Disconnected.

Christian flipped to the second application. “Rosey Stone.” A face didn’t immediately come to mind, but he’d probably remember her once he heard her voice. Once again he punched in the number and waited.

A soft, feminine voice answered.

“This is Christian O’Halloran from Hard Luck, Alaska. Is Rosey Stone there?”

“This is Rosey.” She sounded surprised and a little breathless. Good, Christian liked awed and breathless. This was a fine start, a fine start indeed.

“You applied for the position of secretary last year.”

“Yes...yes, I remember!” she said excitedly.

“We currently have a position available, and we’d like to offer it to you.” He felt smug at the thought that it would be so easy to replace Mariah.

“Are you still offering the same employment package you were a year ago?” Rosey asked.

“Ah...yes. There’s a cabin you could have. Actually it isn’t much,” he added with a twinge of conscience. “My father built it over thirty years ago, and there’s no electricity and no indoor plumbing.”

“You’re joking!”

Christian didn’t know what had possessed him to blurt that out. “The cabin lacks modern conveniences.” He smacked his forehead with one hand.

“What is this, some kind of sick joke?”

“No. The job’s available if you still want it.”

“No, thanks,” she informed him, and slammed the phone in his ear.

“I didn’t think you would,” he said into the drone of the disconnected line. Sighing, Christian hung up the receiver. He wanted Mariah back.

Five

Bright and early Monday morning, Christian settled down at his desk in the Midnight Sons office. Determined to make some headway in replacing Mariah, he reached for the file folder that held the pertinent applications.

Leaning back in his chair, he read over a number of résumés. Several applicants were vastly overqualified. Others had little or no relevant experience, just an eagerness for adventure. Christian decided they wouldn’t work out, either. Neither he nor Sawyer had time to train a replacement.

Discouraged, he set the file aside and promised himself he’d read through it again later, when he was ready to deal with the problem. What he wanted of course, what he hoped would happen, was that Mariah would realize she wasn’t cut out for the restaurant business and return to Midnight Sons. Now that she knew Allison Reynolds wouldn’t be coming, there was no reason to be stubborn.

Sawyer arrived half an hour after Christian, clearly surprised to find his brother at the office so early.

“I’ve been working on finding a replacement for Mariah,” Christian told Sawyer. What he failed to mention was that he hadn’t found a résumé or application that suited him yet. Nor did he think it was a good idea to admit he was holding out, hoping Mariah would have a change of heart.

Sawyer nodded.

“You want to give me some help here?” He supposed they might as well go through the motions. “Perhaps we should try for an older woman this time, someone mature,” he suggested.

“Sure.” Sawyer didn’t sound as if he particularly cared.

“Someone methodical,” Christian said next. “I don’t care how fast she types, as long as she’s accurate.” He wrote that down on the pad.

“Okay with me,” Sawyer murmured while preparing a pot of coffee.

The coffee had always been made before they arrived at the office—by Mariah. Not that they weren’t capable of making coffee themselves. But it was generous of her to do it without being asked. Christian hadn’t given the matter more than a passing thought until just that moment. In fact, Mariah had willingly taken on a number of small tasks that made their lives easier.

“She should have a good attitude,” Christian went on.

“I agree,” Sawyer said with conviction. “I don’t want someone to come in here asking what we can do for her. I’m much more interested in what she can do for us, especially since we’re the ones paying her wages.”

Christian added “good attitude” to the list, and with Sawyer’s help came up with several other qualities. They found it vital that the new secretary be prompt and professional. Loyal and responsible. Because they did so much of their business over the phone, a pleasant phone manner was essential.

As Christian read over the qualifications for Mariah’s replacement, it became obvious that—except for the “older” part—they’d described Mariah herself.

Christian felt suddenly troubled. How could he have been so...so misguided? The perfect candidate had been there all along, and it had taken him all this time to see it. For twelve months he’d been hoping she’d leave; now that she was gone, he wanted her back. Something was definitely wrong, and he had the feeling that whatever was askew had to do with him.

“Have you got someone yet?” Sawyer asked ten minutes later.

“No!” Christian snapped. “How could I?”

“Well, read through those applications, would you? The sooner we get someone here, the better. We can’t expect Lanni to fill in for long.”

“I understand that,” Christian returned impatiently.

“Charles was against Lanni coming to work for us in the first place,” Sawyer went on, “but she insisted—said a few days away from her writing wouldn’t matter. She’ll be in this afternoon.”

Christian didn’t understand why Sawyer was in such an all-fired hurry. He’d already gone through the file a second time and hadn’t found a suitable applicant. Nor did he share his brother’s sense of urgency. This wasn’t something that needed to be done right that very minute.

Brother worked amicably with brother for the remainder of the morning. Their staff of pilots wandered in and out of the office, as was their habit, before heading out to the hangar to complete their assignments for the day.

“Who’s going to make up the flight schedule?” Sawyer asked.

In the past Mariah had seen to it.

“You do it this week and I’ll do it next,” Christian suggested in what he felt was a fair compromise.

“Oh, so you’ll do it next week,” Sawyer muttered sarcastically. “You’d better have hired a replacement long before then.”

Before next week! Sawyer didn’t actually expect someone to drop her entire life because of a phone call, did he? Christian doubted he’d find a replacement willing to move to the Arctic just like that. These things took time, lots of time.

Duke Porter was the last pilot to drop by the office that morning. He walked in, glared at Christian and announced, “Mariah’s working at Ben’s.”

“Yes, I know.” Christian studied the pilot. Although Mariah had assured him there was nothing between her and Duke, Christian couldn’t help wondering.

“Why?” Duke was still glaring at him.

“You’ll have to ask her.” Christian wouldn’t mind having the answer to that himself.

“I’m asking you,” Duke said in a way that laid the blame squarely on Christian’s shoulders.

“I don’t know why she quit,” he mumbled, and realized that wasn’t completely true. “I have my suspicions, but none I’d care to discuss.”

“It isn’t the same around here without Mariah,” Duke complained, setting aside his clipboard. “A man becomes accustomed to things being done a certain way.”

“What do you mean?” Sawyer asked. “It’s still the same office, same business.”

“Well, it’s too quiet in here. A man could get, I don’t know, bored.”

“Bored,” Sawyer repeated.

“Bored,” Duke said again, with more certainty this time. “Before, it was fun to watch Mariah tiptoe around Christian. She used to make these hilarious faces at him behind his back.”

“She did what?” Christian was outraged, then amused. That sounded like something she’d do, and in retrospect he didn’t hold it against her. He had been kind of a jerk.

“Who could blame her?” Duke asked. “For making faces or leaving. Christian was always on her case for one reason or another, but she was a good sport about it.” He turned to Christian. “Everyone knew you were looking for an excuse to fire her. But without Mariah around, it’s...it’s like someone dimmed the lights in here.”

Christian was inclined to argue, but realized Duke was right. In more ways than one.

“Do you?” Duke pressed. “Blame her for leaving?”

“I guess I can’t,” Christian admitted in a grudging voice.

The pilot seemed surprised that Christian had agreed so readily. “You going to get her back?”

Christian desperately hoped so, but he couldn’t guarantee it. With luck, Mariah would figure out that waitressing wasn’t for her. She had all kinds of abilities that were wasted at the café, although he had to concede she baked a fine apple pie.

Duke left after a few more admonitions, and Christian started thinking about what the bush pilot had said. He wasn’t going to plead with her to come back, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to make a few subtle suggestions.

“Will you be all right if I drop in at Ben’s for a few minutes?” he asked his brother.

Sawyer gave him an odd look, then nodded. “Just don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.”

He hurried across the yard and noticed a distinct chill in the air. Although it was still August and summer wasn’t officially over, he could feel autumn coming on; soon the days would shorten dramatically. It wasn’t unheard of for snow to fall in September or for the rivers to freeze. The wind increased as he rushed into the Hard Luck Café, almost pulling the door out of his hand. He saw Ben at the counter, but the place was otherwise empty, since coffee break was over and the lunch crowd hadn’t started to arrive.

Ben offered Christian a friendly smile. “What can I do for you this fine day?” he asked.

“How about coffee and a doughnut?” Christian pulled out a stool. He made sure that when he sat down this time he didn’t slide off. He looked around, wondering where Mariah was, but he didn’t want to be so obvious as to ask.

“In the kitchen. Baking another pie,” Ben supplied, knowing all too well the purpose of Christian’s visit.

Christian pretended not to understand what Ben was talking about.

“You want me to call her out here?” Ben asked.

“No,” Christian answered automatically, then regretted it.

“She’s causing quite a stir, you know,” Ben said conversationally as he filled Christian’s mug. He piled a couple of sugar-coated doughnuts onto a plate and set it in front of him.

“You mean her apple pie?”

“Not her pies, although her recipe is excellent.” He raised his fingertips to his mouth and loudly kissed them. “I mean Mariah herself. Business has really picked up since she came to work for me. Those fellows are interested in more than my moose pot roast with cranberry sauce.”

This was something Christian hadn’t considered. Mariah had been living in Hard Luck for the better part of a year and had caused barely any reaction among the men in town. He’d never understood it. Many a time he would’ve given his eyeteeth for one of his pilots to sweep her off her feet—and out from under his. It hadn’t happened. Nor did he understand what was so different now.

“Who?” he demanded. He wasn’t about to let a bunch of lovesick pilots pester her! Christian didn’t linger on the contradictions between his attitude today and that of two months ago. If his men wanted to come in and eat at Ben’s, then fine, but anything else and they’d answer to him. After all, he’d been responsible for bringing her to Alaska; he was responsible for ensuring her safety and well-being while she was here. Which was why he had to protect her from the pilots. He didn’t feel completely convinced that there wasn’t anything going on between her and Duke, either. She claimed there wasn’t, but judging by the pilot’s behavior earlier, Christian was beginning to think otherwise. Duke might well be attracted to her. Mariah needed the gentle guidance of an older brother, a good friend. Someone like himself.

“Bill Landgrin for one,” Ben answered.

The name caught Christian’s attention right away. The pipeline worker was a known troublemaker. Generally Christian was able to get along with just about everyone, but Bill rubbed him the wrong way. He frowned, disliking the thought of Mariah having anything to do with the likes of Bill.

“Who else?”

“Ralph asked her out,” Ben murmured, dropping his voice. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Mariah wasn’t listening in on their conversation.

“Ralph Ferris?” One of Christian’s own pilots. He felt not only betrayed but puzzled. Ralph had seen Mariah on a daily basis for a whole year. If he’d been interested, he could’ve asked her out before this. Why he’d pursue her now didn’t make sense, especially if Duke had set his sights on her. None of this made sense.

“You don’t look pleased.”

“I’m not,” Christian admitted. Unfortunately he wasn’t in a position to do anything about it.

“Not that you have a say in the matter.” Ben echoed his own thoughts, again keeping his voice low.

Christian met Ben’s gaze evenly. They’d been friends for a lot of years. Frankly Christian didn’t like the idea of a woman standing between them, and he stated his feelings.

“I want her back,” he said.

Ben laughed.

It wasn’t the reaction Christian had expected, to say the least.

Still grinning, Ben said, “I knew that the minute you walked in here. It might come as a surprise, old friend, but I haven’t got her tied to the stove back there. Mariah’s free to leave or stay, whichever she decides.”

“Fine, just as long as you know where I—where we stand,” he amended, including Sawyer and Charles in the equation.

“To my way of thinking, you shouldn’t have let her go in the first place,” Ben said. He frowned, giving the impression that he didn’t understand why the O’Hallorans had been so foolish.

Christian didn’t have an answer.

* * *

Mariah was elbow-deep in flour as she strained to hear the conversation between Christian and Ben. She didn’t mean to snoop—well, to be honest, she did. She wanted to hear what Christian was saying and strained to make out every word. She couldn’t help wanting to know if he missed her, or if he’d given her absence so much as a passing thought.

Ben’s voice drifted into the kitchen far more clearly than Christian’s. She heard him tell Christian about Bill Landgrin’s interest in her and smiled to herself. Not that she’d ever consider dating Bill. That would be asking for trouble. Word had got around fast about Bill and his roving hands. Besides, there was only one man who interested Mariah, and he was sitting in this very café, whispering about her.

The phone rang, and she heard Ben amble over to the counter to answer it. A moment later, the cook shouted, “Mariah, it’s long distance for you.”

Mariah quickly dusted the flour from her hands and reached for the extension on the kitchen wall. “This is Mariah,” she said into the mouthpiece.

Once he was sure she’d picked up the phone, Ben hung up.

“Mariah, it’s Tracy. What happened?”

“Happened?” Her friend sounded upset.

“I called Midnight Sons, and Sawyer said you no longer worked there and said I should contact you at the Hard Luck Café.”

“I quit,” Mariah explained simply.

Tracy exhaled a sharp breath. “What did Christian do this time?”

Mariah loved the way her friend immediately assumed Christian was to blame. This was one of Tracy’s most endearing traits—she was loyal to a fault.

“What makes you think Christian did anything?”

“I know the man. He’s done everything in his power to make your life miserable.”

“That’s not true.” Mariah found herself wanting to defend Christian. “I’d been with Midnight Sons for a year, and it seemed time to move on, that’s all.”

“You didn’t mention it while we were in Anchorage.”

“I—I didn’t decide until after I returned.”

Tracy wasn’t about to accept such a weak explanation. “You didn’t come up with this idea on the spur of the moment. I know you far too well to believe that. Christian O’Halloran drove you to it.”

“No one drove me to anything,” Mariah insisted. “I work with Ben now.” She didn’t say that she wasn’t sure Ben could afford to keep her much longer. Her pies were selling as fast as she could bake them, but her waitressing skills left a lot to be desired.

Thus far, Ben had been exceedingly patient with her, but she’d already broken two coffeepots. She’d offered to have him deduct the cost from her paycheck, but he’d refused.

To Mariah’s own disappointment, she had to acknowledge that she lacked the skills to be a waitress. She confused orders and had a tendency not to look where she was going. Only this morning, she’d dumped a plate of poached eggs on Keith Campbell’s lap. It hadn’t been intentional of course, but Keith had been annoyed, to put it mildly.

Mariah had tried to apologize, but Keith hadn’t given her a chance. He’d stomped out. Ben didn’t seem distressed to lose him as a customer, though, saying he’d just as soon do without Keith’s business. No big loss, Ben assured her.

“I had to leave Midnight Sons,” Mariah admitted miserably.

“I thought as much,” Tracy said in a soothing voice. “Do you want me to file a lawsuit against them?”

“On what grounds?” Mariah demanded. The O’Hallorans had been good to her. They’d deeded her twenty acres of their own land, plus given her the cabin. In a way she felt they’d saved her by granting her the means to escape her family’s dominance.

“I’m sure we could come up with something,” Tracy said.

Tracy was by nature confrontational, which made her a good attorney. But that was also the reason for her problem with Duke, Mariah realized. The pilot enjoyed saying outlandish things just to rile Tracy, and it worked every time.

“I’d never sue the O’Hallorans,” Mariah stressed, wanting to make that clear.

“Christian’s at the root of this, and I—”

“Tracy,” Mariah said, cutting off her friend, “listen. I’m perfectly happy. Midnight Sons will survive without me.” The real question was whether she’d survive without them—or without one of them, anyway. But for pride’s sake she couldn’t admit that, not even to her friend.

They talked for a few more minutes, with Mariah struggling to convince Tracy that she was happy and at the same time convince herself.

Working for Ben was what she wanted. She said it over and over, and once Tracy was satisfied that Mariah had been the one to initiate the change, she was less concerned.

“Promise you’ll contact me if you need anything?” Tracy asked. “I’ll do anything I can to help you, as a friend and as an attorney.”

Mariah promised, but she couldn’t imagine why she’d ever need an attorney.

* * *

Bethany stood at the front of the classroom and looked down the evenly spaced rows of empty desks. In a matter of days those same desks would be filled with Hard Luck’s children.

A sense of pride, mingled with responsibility, suddenly overwhelmed her. She loved her job. She loved Alaska. Although she’d never asked Ben what had drawn him to the tiny Arctic community, she thought she understood. The beauty of this place often stole her breath. She defied anyone to look over the tundra in full bloom, to smell the scent of fresh, clean air mingled with spruce and wildflowers, and not understand.

Yes, there was also the challenge of winter, the difficulty of living week upon week in almost total darkness and subzero temperatures. Not everyone was suited to this life.

Spring brought with it far more than daylight and budding flowers, she mused. With the end of winter came a sense of—she wasn’t sure just what to call it—accomplishment, she decided. Bethany remembered experiencing this phenomenon the previous spring. She’d realized that she’d survived the dark and the cold of winter. She’d stood in the sun, soaking up the warmth, her arms stretched toward the bright blue sky. With that moment came a feeling of power. She’d known that with love, with determination, with the force of her own inner strength, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t accomplish. The feeling had never left her.

Bethany smiled, thinking of Ben, and how coming to find him, meeting this man who’d given her life, had changed her. She was grateful to him in more ways than she could express. Without Ben she’d never have met Mitch and Chrissie.

“You’re looking thoughtful.”

Mitch stood in the classroom doorway, his arms crossed. Tall and muscular, he was dressed in his Department of the Interior uniform. Her heart swelled with pride and love at the sight of her husband.

“I was just thinking about Ben,” Bethany said.

“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

It would be useless to deny it. “I guess I am. He just didn’t look good the other night.”

“Sweetheart, you woke him out of a sound sleep.”

“I know.” Ben had been thrilled with the news of her pregnancy, and they’d chatted and laughed for an hour before she’d headed home.

Not until she dressed for bed that night had she given her visit a second thought. Something wasn’t right with Ben, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“I came to take you to lunch,” Mitch told her, “since Chrissie’s playing at Susan’s. You’ll be able to see for yourself that Ben’s as cantankerous as always.”

“Lunch,” Bethany said, grinning. “You certainly know the way to my heart.”

* * *

Christian didn’t think he could avoid being obvious when he stopped in at the Hard Luck Café for dinner that evening. The special, barbecued elk ribs, was by no means his favorite meal. Nor was he keen on having half of Hard Luck watch him make a fool of himself. But he had no choice. Somehow, he needed to convince Mariah to return to Midnight Sons.

His day hadn’t gone well. Sawyer was on his back about hiring a replacement. The phone had kept them hopping all afternoon. The pilots were complaining. Nothing seemed right. Sometimes Christian forgot what an ill-tempered bunch they could be.

He thought wryly that even when Mariah wasn’t at the office, she managed to make his life miserable.

When he entered the café, Christian was shocked by how busy it was. The place was packed. Every seat at the counter was taken and all the tables were occupied. The last empty spot in the entire restaurant was tucked away in the far corner. Considering himself fortunate, Christian grabbed that before someone else could take it.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Mariah said as she rushed past Christian, pen and pad in hand. She’d gone two or three steps before she realized who it was. Turning back, she offered him a brief but tired smile. “Hello, Christian.”

“Mariah.” For an instant he had to stop himself from rising out of his chair to help her. The temptation was so strong he had to hold on to the table. She didn’t belong here, doing this job. She should be with him, not a roomful of other men.

“Mariah, isn’t my order up yet?”

“Mariah, I need more coffee.”

“Mariah, did you forget my apple pie?”

When Christian couldn’t bear to listen any longer, he left the table, hurried past her and directly into the kitchen, where he found Ben filling dinner plates as fast as he could.

“Don’t you hear what’s going on out there?” he demanded.

“Sure I do,” Ben said, chuckling. “I’m hearing the clang of that cash register. Didn’t I tell you Mariah’s been a real boon to my sales?”

“They’re not giving her a moment’s peace!” Christian clenched his fists at his sides.

“Ben, I need—” Mariah flew into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Christian standing there. “More rolls,” she finished weakly.

“I want to talk to you,” Christian said, holding her captive with his stare.

“I can’t.” She looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got a roomful of hungry people all wanting their food right this minute.” Her harried gaze darted past him to the counter, where Ben had placed the rolls. “I’m sorry, Christian, but I just can’t.”

“You’re running yourself ragged,” he said in a tone few would ignore. His patience was gone. He’d make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. He wanted her out of this café, and he didn’t care what it cost him.

“She can’t talk now.” It was Ben who answered on her behalf. “You seem to forget Mariah works for me. If you have anything to say to her, you’ll have to do it on her time, not mine.”

“Fine,” Christian said, gritting his teeth with frustration. “I’ll walk you home.”

“That...that won’t work, either,” Mariah said, biting her lower lip. “Ralph already asked if he could walk me home, and I told him he could.”

“Ralph,” Christian repeated bitterly. Well, he’d have something to say about that. The man was not only his employee but a personal friend. Or used to be.

Christian’s mood didn’t improve during his meal. He watched as Mariah fluttered from one table to another, growing more harried with every minute. It gave him no pleasure to realize he hadn’t underestimated her skills. Mariah made mistake after mistake, but what astonished him was that not a single customer complained. Half the time the men didn’t even bother to correct her.

If she gave someone the wrong order she never knew it; people ate what they were served or traded with someone else.

Once he’d finished dishing up the meals, Ben positioned himself in front of the cash register and gleefully collected money. He grinned from ear to ear each time the register rang.

The only person in the whole restaurant who didn’t seem happy was Christian. He’d planned to wait it out, convince Ralph to let him walk Mariah home, but after an hour he couldn’t sit idle anymore.

His mood soured as the men openly flirted with her. It infuriated him when they told her how pretty she looked and how her presence brightened the whole place. It was all rubbish, and yet Mariah ate it up as quickly as they downed her apple pie.

He paid his tab and left wearing a scowl.

When he got home, his mood still hadn’t improved. He turned on the television for a while. Thanks to the satellite dish, he had a large number of choices. But he surfed from channel to channel, unable to find a program that held his interest.

Disgusted with himself, he turned off the set and reached for the novel he’d started the week before. He read ten pages and couldn’t remember a single word. Slamming the book closed, he began to pace. Soon he was studying the clock.

Ben closed shop around eight. He figured with cleanup and all, it would take an hour or so before Ralph escorted Mariah to her cabin. His jaw tightened at the thought, but Christian knew he had no claim on her. Nor did he want one, he tried to convince himself.

It was just that he felt responsible for Mariah. Yeah, responsible, the way a man might feel toward his little sister. She needed a guiding hand, someone to advise her and caution her.

He’d definitely cleared that up in his own mind. He felt immeasurably better.

Although he’d let her know he wanted to talk to her, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He was walking a fine line here, and he knew it. If he pressured her, she’d resist.

What he hoped would happen was that she’d openly admit she missed Midnight Sons. At that point, Christian would be free to suggest she return. But he could see this wasn’t likely without some concessions on his part. If only he could figure out exactly what they should be!

Christian bided his time, counted off the minutes, then walked out of the house. He stood on his front porch and stared across the street at his brother’s place.

Scott and Eagle Catcher were playing in the yard. The boy was tossing a stick, and with boundless energy the husky was retrieving it. Susan was playing dolls with Chrissie Harris on the porch steps.

The reflection of the television screen showed in the window, and Christian assumed Sawyer and Abbey were cuddled up in front of it watching the news.

A year. In an amazingly short time his brother had become completely domesticated. Christian was happy for him, but he wanted none of this for himself. His life was just the way he liked it. One thing was certain: he didn’t want a woman trying to change him, messing with his individuality. He’d leave this marriage-and-family stuff to his two older brothers.

He sighed as he walked down the steps and buried his hands in his pockets. He sincerely hoped Charles and Sawyer appreciated what he was about to do. If he was successful, they’d have their secretary back. If not, well, he’d deal with that after he’d talked to Mariah.

“Where you going, Uncle Christian?” Scott asked, running to catch up with him. Eagle Catcher was like a shadow at his side.

“For a walk.” He hoped the brevity of his response would give Scott the hint.

“Someone’s playing cowboys and Indians,” Scott said conversationally.

“Really?”

“Yup, they’re sending signals.” Scott stopped, hands on his hips. “They’re not doing it right, though. Look.” He pointed toward the cabins where Mariah lived. “See all that smoke?”

“Smoke?”

Christian whirled around, and sure enough, a trail of dark smoke spiraled upward. His heart kicked into gear. “Those aren’t smoke signals,” he shouted. “That’s a fire!”