EDGE (4 page)

“Don’t you have expenses? Your apartment? Car? Camera equipment?”

“I’ve been thinking of selling the apartment. Don’t own a car. Already own my camera equipment.”

“No vices?”

“I’m never home. I’ve saved most the money I’ve earned because I’m never in a place long enough to spend it. I actually could retire very comfortably, right now.” He didn’t realize how good retirement sounded until he’d said it aloud.

“Give me a break. You’re what, forty, forty-two? What would you do if you retired? Within a month, you’d be begging me for your job back.”

“Doesn’t look like that will be an issue, since you’ll be unemployed soon.”

Tom flattened his lips into a hard line. Cache could see him trying to think up a comeback. Finally, his shoulders slumped against his seat. “Damn it to hell, Cache, you can’t leave the magazine. You’re the best out there. You want a raise, consider it yours.”

“I’m not after a raise. I need a change.”

“Is this all about Hank and Sarah dying?”

Cache sucked in a breath of stale, circulated air and then let it out in a rush.

“You can’t make a decision of this magnitude while still dealing with a tragedy,” Tom said.

“Been watching Dr-what’s-her-name again?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. The Dr. Lillian Redding has good things to say. She’s the new Oprah, you know.” Tom leaned in. “I’ll make you a deal. Come to the lodge, meet Amelia, talk to her, and then decide. She meant a lot to the people of this country. Our readers want to know she’s okay. That the bastard who kidnapped her didn’t completely ruin her life.”

Cache knew Tom was right. People did care. They needed to know that she was functioning in society. At least functioning in her own “controlled society.” Hell, even
he
cared more than he was ready to admit.

“Look at it this way,” Tom said. “We have two weeks paid vacation. In Alaska of all places. If we get a story out of it, great. If we don’t, at least we’ll have a fabulous trip before we lose our jobs.”

He had a point. Cache glanced out the window. He had to experience this place. Had to see it up close and personal. Plus, he needed to know what Amelia had made of her life. “Okay, we’ll meet her and then decide.”

A smile spilt Tom’s face. “Okay, here’s our cover—”

“Cover?”

“Yeah, you think Amelia Bennett isn’t going to recognize the name of the great C.S. Calder? Good thing you publish under your initials. No way would she forget the name Cache. After all, the picture you took of her received national exposure. It probably changed her life as much as being kidnapped did. I, for one, don’t want to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere with killer mosquitoes. So, this is what I came up with. We work for an environmentalist group and are registered under the names of Tom Spears and Cache Cruise.”

“You’ve
got
to be kidding.”

Tom pulled at his collar. “When I made the reservations, I had a copy of
People
lying on my desk. Tom Cruise and Britney Spears were both featured on the cover.” Tom shrugged. “I couldn’t very well take Cruise, now could I? How unbelievable would that be? So I took Spears. I think they both sound quite fetching.”

At that moment, the flight attendant came by.

“Could I get you gentleman a drink?” she asked.

“Hell, yes.” Cache pointed to Tom. “Britney here’s buying.”

Nicole Bennett—formerly Olsen—was so tired she didn’t know what kept her upright. She wished she could find a place to sleep away the next few months. She might as well kiss the hope of ever sleeping this summer goodbye. It had been close to midnight when their plane landed in Anchorage, and the sun lay hooked on the horizon. She’d forgotten that Alaska was called the Land of the Midnight Sun.

How had she gotten here? Alone in Anchorage with two kids who were looking at her to take care of them when she couldn’t even take care of herself. She was a bitter thirty-four-year old divorcee with no home, no job, and no money, betrayed by the only man she’d ever loved. Seventeen years she’d shared a life with that cheating bastard. Seventeen years of worshipping a man not worthy of her love. They’d been high school sweethearts, love at first sight and all that crap.

It seemed like everything in her life happened before she was ready. From getting pregnant with Emily her senior year of high school, to the shotgun wedding her mother had arranged without her input, to the falling apart of her marriage without her knowing it had been in trouble.

Now she faced starting a new life when she still wanted the old one back.

“Mom.” Quentin bumped her shoulder, the action bringing her back to the rapidly emptying baggage area. “When’s Aunt Mel going to get here?”

When Quentin had been three and had met Amelia for the first time, he couldn’t pronounce the mouthful “Aunt Amelia” and had come up with Aunt Mel. It had stuck. Where had the time gone? When had her adorable little boy, so quick to flash his dimples and laugh, turned into a gangly, always starving preteen?

“Soon. She’ll be here soon.” Nicole glanced around the baggage claim area again. What was she going to do if Amelia didn’t show? She’d taken the coward’s way out and invited herself to where she knew she wasn’t wanted, and she’d done it in a way that manipulated Amelia into accepting. At least, she’d hoped so, but then what if Amelia hadn’t received her letter? She wasn’t sure how the postal system worked when you lived in the middle of nowhere. Of course, even if Amelia had received her letter, she had every right not to show. Nicole prayed she still didn’t hold what had happened twenty years ago against her.

“Gawd, Mom. Is she coming or not?” Emily stuck out her hip and gave her mom that look of disdain which seemed permanently painted on her face. She hated that look. Her ex had been a master of the same one.

“Emily, you are not to speak like that, and you know it. Our plane was a little early. Be patient. She’ll be here.” Heaven help her, she prayed she spoke the truth.

“This sucks.” Emily dropped her carry-on to the floor and sat heavily on her luggage.

Nicole wholeheartedly agreed.

Damn it, they’d lost so much all because of a man who couldn’t keep his johnson from wandering away from home where it belonged. She should have demanded her fair share of that, too, and then she would have—

The empty baggage claim area started to fill up again as another flight arrived. Their plane had been early, but only by fifteen minutes. Amelia was over an hour late.

Nicole sent up a silent prayer, even though God hadn’t been listening in a while, but it didn’t hurt to keep the communication lines open, right? For months now, it had felt like all she got was a busy signal.

The outside doors swooshed open, and in walked Amelia.

In the last fifteen years, they had only seen each other twice and each time at the death of one of their parents. Well, she was experiencing a kind of death, and Amelia was the only family she had left to turn to.

Amelia didn’t look all that welcoming.

Her long blond hair was braided down her back, and moose earrings dangled from her ears. She wore a black and blue flannel shirt unbuttoned and hanging open over a white undershirt, tucked into a pair of well-worn jeans. She carried a clipboard and sign under her arm. Did she think Nicole wouldn’t know her own sister? Aviator glasses shielded her striking blue eyes.

No one ever forgot the color of Amelia’s eyes. They’d made her famous.

Amelia spotted her, paused, and then slowly walked toward them.

“Nicole?” Amelia said her name like she wasn’t sure if it was actually her.

Had she changed that much since last they’d last seen each other? Yeah, she’d put on some weight. Ten, fifteen—all right, thirty—pounds since the divorce.

“Hi, Amelia.” She stepped forward, so relieved Amelia had shown up that she put her arms around her and gave her a hug. Emotion swelled within her chest. She badly needed a sister, yet Amelia stood there like ice and seemed to be the furthest thing away from the loving sister she needed.

What had she been thinking? Why had she gambled everything on Amelia taking them in? Especially, when her sister had every right to hate her?

Amelia awkwardly patted her back, and the tears clogging Nicole’s throat sprang to her eyes. She released her hold, and ducking her head, moved away. “Thanks for meeting us.” She blinked back the ever-persistent tears, took a deep breath and held it. The last thing she could afford to do was lose it now.

Quentin and Emily had risen to their feet as soon as Amelia had approached. Amelia smiled, regarding the kids, and her whole face changed. In an instant, she went from locked door to welcome mat.

“So these are the rug rats.” Amelia studied Emily. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were twenty instead of sixteen.”

Emily’s chest swelled and those pouty lips of hers smiled for the first time in months. “Hi-ya, Aunt Mel.”

“Hi-ya, back.” She turned to Quentin, who had been gazing at his aunt with uncertainty. Emily had all the confidence in the world, but Quentin took after his mother. Under the go-with-the-flow and willing-to-try-anything attitude, he hid a tender heart. Bluster was his shield. After all, he couldn’t show any weakness with a sister who’d take full advantage.

“Well, look at you, Quentin.” Amelia appraised Quentin from his unlaced tennis shoes to his dirty-blond, shaggy hair. “Aren’t you well on your way to becoming a man.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Quentin nodded. At least he was showing his manners. “Is it true that you gut your own fish?”

Nicole sighed.

Amelia laughed. It sounded rusty, like she hadn’t expected it. “In this land, if you catch it, you clean it.”

“Really? When we get to your lodge, can we go fishing?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll do so much fishing this summer the bears won’t be able to smell the difference between you and the salmon.”

“Sweet.” A grin split Quentin’s face until his eyes twinkled.

Nicole exhaled a slow breath. God had finally picked up her call.

Amelia checked her watch. “I’m meeting some other...guests.” She gestured to the glass doors she’d entered through. “I have a van waiting just outside if you’ll gather your things and head out there. I’ll meet you shortly.”

Cache grabbed his bag off the carousel. He wished they had more time in Anchorage to explore, but he figured after the two weeks at The Edge of Reason Lodge, he’d stay over in Anchorage, maybe even travel farther north to Fairbanks and have a look around.

Tom struggled with another bag.

“How many clothes did you pack?” Cache asked.

“Just enough for every occasion,” Tom said. “Why? Do you think I packed too much?”

Cache looked to his own small travel-worn duffel and then to Tom’s luggage, three matching—and oversized—Gucci suitcases. “The fish aren’t going to give a damn what label you’re wearing. All they’re going to care about is what’s on the end of your hook.”

“I spent a lot of time deciding what to bring. I’m prepared for everything. Just you wait and see.”

“Can’t wait.” Tom did keep him amused. Cache remembered the conversation they’d had on the plane. At least, most of the time.

They were supposed to meet up with a pilot who would fly them out to the lodge. Tom couldn’t remember where they were supposed to meet or what the pilot looked like. The man was obviously not an experienced traveler.