Midnight Sons Volume 3 (13 page)

Tracy said nothing. She’d endure one turn around the dance floor and be done with him. She wondered if this was her punishment for asking Mariah to kiss him.

“I’ve finally figured out what you really need,” he went on.

Tracy couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. This should be good. To her surprise, he didn’t seem in a hurry to tell her.

“You’re one of those women who think because you’ve got a couple of college degrees you’re better than a man.”

Tracy opened to her mouth to argue, then hesitated. This time she wasn’t going to be drawn into one of those no-win verbal exchanges. He could say what he wanted, and she’d keep her mouth shut.

“I bet you thought you were clever outsmarting Ted, Ralph and Jim, didn’t you? I suspect you’re used to having men compete for your attention.”

Tracy wasn’t going to correct him, that was for sure.

“It seems to me you’re the kind of woman who needs to be tamed.”

Despite her vow to keep her mouth closed, despite her determination not to become involved in a pointless argument, Tracy burst out, “Tamed? You think a woman needs to be
tamed?
”

“It won’t be easy,” Duke went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “It’d take a real man, not one of those
sensitive
males you’re accustomed to dating.”

“I beg your pardon?” Fury poured through her like molten lava.

“I know just the type of man you date, too,” he said smugly. “The ones who’re trying to get in touch with their inner child.”

“I’d like you to tell Gavin that.”

“I take it Gavin’s your boyfriend?”

“If you saw him you wouldn’t call him a boy,” she taunted as he led her around the dance floor.

“Really. Describe him to me.”

She had no intention of doing so, but soon found herself mentally listing Gavin’s virtues—even though she was a long stretch from being in love with her fellow lawyer. Gavin was witty and fun and they’d had a good time together, but it wasn’t a serious relationship.

“A caring, sensitive guy, no doubt,” Duke muttered.

“Gavin’s a man of the nineties,” she said curtly before she realized Duke had done it to her
again.

Duke snorted. “A man of the nineties. I can picture him now.”

“You’ve never even met Gavin,” she snapped, quick to come to her friend’s defense.

“I don’t need to,” Duke said. “I can see him already. He’s just your type. Before he knows it, you’ll have a ring through his nose and you’ll be leading him around to show all your fancy friends how powerful you are. But once you’re bored with him, it’ll be bye-bye Gavin.”

The effort it took not to respond sapped Tracy’s energy. “I know what
your
problem is, Duke Porter,” she announced evenly. “You’re living in the Middle Ages. Talk about
me
being close to thirty and unmarried. What about you?”

“I don’t have any desire to marry.”

“Me, neither.”

He snorted again as if he didn’t believe her.

“That says a lot, doesn’t it?” She mocked him openly. “It’s perfectly acceptable for
you
to remain single, but you can’t admit a woman might have those same feelings.”

“Since the beginning of time, women have fought to control men.”

“I see it the other way around,” she argued. “Men seem to think it’s their God-given right to dominate a woman.”

“God created woman to please man.”

“What?”
Tracy groaned aloud. Duke Porter belonged not in the Middle Ages but back in the Dark Ages. “You mean pleasure him, don’t you?”

That slow easy smile of his slid into place. “That, too.”

“I don’t believe it.” Although the music hadn’t stopped, Tracy pulled herself out of his embrace and walked off the dance floor.

Duke followed her. “Just a reminder,” he said when they reached the far end of the room. “I still intend to collect my kiss.”

“I didn’t kiss you,” she insisted.

“Yeah, but you wanted to. And you want it now.”

“I’d rather kiss a rattlesnake,” she assured him with her sweetest smile.

“No need,” he returned flippantly. “You can kiss me, instead.”

D
UKE STEPPED BACK
and watched as his friends buzzed around Tracy like bees around a rose in full bloom. It irritated him to see his fellow pilots, men he trusted and admired, taken in by a pretty face.

Tracy Santiago wasn’t even that pretty. Cute, maybe, but that was about as far as he was willing to go. One thing he knew—he didn’t like her.

Never had and never would.

Duke remembered when he’d first encountered the
attorney. He’d known instantly that Tracy wanted to make trouble for Midnight Sons and consequently for all of them. She was after the company, hoping to prove that his employers were exploiting women.

What a lie! Each and every woman who’d moved to Hard Luck had come of her own free will. True, the O’Halloran brothers had gone out of their way to give women incentives to move north, but there’d been no coercion, no sales pitch, no pressure. The women who’d stayed and become part of the community
wanted
to be here.

It hadn’t taken long for the fancy Seattle attorney to show up, looking for an opportunity to ruin everything. Now, there was a woman with her own agenda!

Duke hadn’t liked Tracy the first time they met. Afterward he should’ve simply forgotten her—yet he hadn’t. Months after her visit, he was still dwelling on their fiery exchanges. No one had ever stood up to him like that, challenged him, and when he questioned her actions—well, to put it mildly, she gave as good as she got.

Their feud didn’t end with her visit, either. Fate had pulled a trick on them both when he answered the office phone one afternoon and heard Tracy on the other end. The incident reminded him of everything he hated about her—and everything he
didn’t
hate.

Mariah seemed to take pleasure in teasing him about his aversion to a certain female attorney. She tossed Tracy’s name into conversations the way an enemy would toss a grenade.

Then there was the day Mariah had kissed him. Mariah! It hadn’t taken Duke or any of the other pilots long to see the lay of the land when it came to
her.

She’d set her sights on Christian the first day she arrived in
Hard Luck. So nothing could have shocked Duke more than the time she’d backed him into a corner and laid a lip-lock on him that had sent him spinning.

Then she had to go and ruin it by explaining that the kiss was actually from Tracy Santiago. If ever there was an ego buster, it was having that shrew get the upper hand.

What bothered Duke even more was that he hadn’t been able to forget that kiss. He couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve been like had it really been from Tracy. If they became romantically involved…

The truth was, that scared the living daylights out of him. Any relationship between them would be ludicrous. No man needed that kind of grief. Not that there was much chance of it happening to Duke, with her living in Seattle and him in Hard Luck.

His father had tried making a long-distance relationship work years earlier, and it had destroyed his family. His mother had hated Alaska. She’d stayed for several years, then moved to Texas, where she had family and friends. His father had remained in Alaska, and within a couple of years they’d divorced. Duke had hated Texas and was soon living with his dad. The two of them had gotten along well. John Porter had never remarried, and Duke didn’t blame him.

John had died several years ago, and Duke rarely heard from his mother, who’d remarried and raised a second family. It was just as well, since they had little in common. He suspected he was an unhappy reminder of something she’d prefer to forget.

There was no denying that his own background had made him cautious—no, downright wary—about women and marriage.

Soon after the kissing incident, though, he’d let a friend in
Fairbanks set up a date for him. Generally he didn’t bother with blind dates, but the daily flights to Fairbanks didn’t give him enough time to meet women on his own. His reaction to Tracy had led him to forgo his usual caution.

Pretty soon he had something going with Laurie. She was divorced and had a couple of kids her husband took on weekends. They had a nice arrangement, he and Laurie. She wasn’t interested in marrying again, she said, which suited Duke perfectly because marriage didn’t interest him, either. He’d leave that to his friends.

No, sirree, Duke wasn’t going to let any woman rule his life. He’d seen what could happen. But then again, he wasn’t opposed to the sort of cozy setup he had with Laurie.

Unfortunately it hadn’t lasted. A few weeks into their relationship, Duke realized she bored him. A perfectly good woman was crazy about him, and it was all he could do to feign interest. If he raised his voice, vented a little steam, Laurie cried. Real tears, too. Every now and then, he’d say something outrageous just to get a reaction out of her. She’d smile benignly and astonish him by agreeing.

Before long, Duke found himself making excuses not to see her. He even traded his flights a couple of times to avoid flying to Fairbanks.

When he figured he was being unfair to her, Duke dropped by her house to put a peaceable end to their relationship. He’d expected her to plead with him to stay, to weep and tell him how much she loved him.

Ending relationships had never been easy. Despite what some might say, he hated hurting a woman’s feelings.

On the flight into town, he’d rehearsed a little speech. One in which he took all the blame for their breakup. He hoped
she’d accept his apology and agree to let things drop. By the time he’d arrived at Laurie’s, he’d felt ready for just about anything. But Laurie shocked him into realizing how unprepared he actually was.

As he stood outside her door, bearing flowers and looking like a fool, she offered him an embarrassed smile and introduced him to her new husband.

Duke was annoyed—and humiliated—to discover that all the while she was seeing
him,
she’d been involved with this other guy.

In retrospect, Duke found the situation funny, though at the time he hadn’t been amused. He’d gotten angry, said things he later regretted and quickly left, stuffing his flowers into the nearest trash can.

In the air, on the return trip to Hard Luck, it occurred to Duke that Tracy would never lead a man on the way Laurie had. If she had something she wanted to say, it got said. Nor would she date a man on the sly.

Once he’d landed the plane and taxied into the hangar, Duke knew he’d come full circle. Tracy Santiago once again dominated his thoughts.

Just like she was doing today.

T
RACY FELT
as if she’d been granted a stay of execution. After the wedding dinner and dance, she escaped Duke and slipped into the back room to help Mariah change out of her wedding dress.

In an hour or less, the wedding couple would be on their way. Sawyer and Abbey would fly them into Fairbanks for their wedding night. The next morning the newlyweds would leave for California to board a ship for a two-week Caribbean cruise.

With tears in her eyes, Tracy hugged the woman who’d become her dearest friend.

“Dreams really do come true,” Mariah whispered. “For so long I thought Christian would never realize he loved me.”

“He’s like all men,” Tracy kidded. “He has no idea what’s good for him.”

“Oh, before I forget, I need to tell you about the flight that’s been scheduled for you and my parents in the morning,” Mariah said as she reached for her wool coat. “You should be down at the field by ten. And dress warmly.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Tracy said, not wanting to delay her friend.

“It might be September in Seattle, but here winter’s setting in. The rivers haven’t frozen yet, but we’ve already had plenty of snow.”

All Tracy needed to do was look out the window to see that. Snow in September was foreign to her.

“Also,” Mariah said, her eyes bright with happiness, “don’t be surprised when I throw the bouquet in your direction. I expect you to catch it, too.”

“What?” Tracy’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Are you nuts?”

“Not at all. I want you to experience this kind of happiness, too.”

Tracy’s smile faded. As an attorney, she all too often witnessed marriages that came to bitter ends. She’d shied away from commitment, for that reason and plenty of others.

“Let one of the other women catch it,” Tracy suggested.

“Not on your life. This one’s for you.”

Tracy wasn’t sure she should thank her.

“One other thing,” Mariah said quickly.

“What?”

“Don’t be angry with me,” Mariah said in a soft voice. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“How could I possibly be angry with you?” Tracy said, and impulsively hugged her again.

Mariah’s answering smile was wan. “Duke’s the pilot who’ll be flying you into Fairbanks tomorrow.”

“B
EN
, I
THINK
it’s time we got you home,” Bethany Harris said, sitting down in the vacant seat beside his. The wedding reception was winding down now that Christian and Mariah had left.

“Already?” Ben Hamilton muttered, frowning. He felt as though he’d just arrived. He wasn’t accustomed to having anyone fuss over him. It took some getting used to, but at least he was back in his own bed, which was a heck of a lot better than the hospital in Fairbanks. A man could die in a place like that. The doctor said he needed plenty of rest; unfortunately he hadn’t bothered to tell the nurses that. Ben swore they woke him up at all hours of the day and night for the most ridiculous reasons.

The open-heart surgery had left him weak. It used to be that he could run the Hard Luck Café from dawn to dusk and still have enough energy at night to play cards or read and watch a little television. Not anymore. Now he slept for much of the day.

The doctors and Bethany had assured him that he was recovering well and would soon be back on his feet. Ben hoped that was true, because he didn’t make a good patient. Ask any of the nurses who’d been assigned to him!

“How are you feeling?” Bethany’s question interrupted his thoughts.

“Fit as a fiddle,” he said, gently patting her arm. He still found it difficult to believe he’d fathered this beautiful young woman. He hadn’t known about her until she’d come to Hard Luck a year earlier. Talk about surprises! Learning he had a child had been the biggest shock of his life. Bethany had tracked him down and taken a job at the community school in order to meet him. She still taught there; she was married now and expecting her first baby—and she loved living in Hard Luck.

Ben was delighted with this opportunity to know his daughter. She was truly a gift, a miracle for a man who’d given up believing in such things a long time ago.

Until Ben’s recent heart attack, only Mitch, Bethany’s husband, had known of the special relationship between them. Ben had figured the O’Halloran brothers suspected something, but they’d never asked and he’d never said. Now, though, everyone knew. And that was fine with Ben.

“Let me walk you back to the café,” Bethany suggested.

It was hard to have someone constantly watching over him. When he got out of the hospital he’d stayed with Bethany and Mitch for a few days. That was about as much tender loving care as he could take.

Over their protests, he’d insisted on returning to his own apartment above the café. Mitch had carried up his bags, and Bethany had prepared the place, vacuuming and changing linens, even arranging a bouquet of late-blooming wildflow
ers. She worried about the stairs that led up to his apartment, but he’d managed them without difficulty, taking it slow and easy.

True, he didn’t make the trek down to the café very often, but he’d regain his strength in time and get back to work. It wouldn’t be soon enough to suit him.

Ben’s jaw tightened every time he thought about the revenue he was losing by keeping the café closed. More importantly, he knew folks around town depended on him for good food at a decent price.

Despite all the weddings taking place, the majority of men in town were unmarried, and many regularly came to the café for their meals. From the day it opened, Ben’s place had been the social center of Hard Luck.

“You ready?” Bethany asked.

Ben would’ve liked to stay a bit longer and enjoy the festivities, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He stood and Bethany looped her arm through his.

“I’m thinking about opening the café,” he said, and before she could object, he added, “part-time of course.”

“No way.”

He should’ve known a child of his would be stubborn, but he’d counted on her at least hearing him out.

“Just for dinner.”

“Don’t even think about it, Ben.”

He recognized that tone of voice. It was the same one he used himself when he refused to budge. Yup, her stubbornness was definitely an inherited trait—inherited from him!

“What are you smiling about?” she asked.

He’d been found out. “Nothing,” he muttered, toning down his grin.

As they left the reception, Bethany stopped to tell Mitch, her husband, where she was going. Chrissie, Bethany’s stepdaughter, was busy with the other children, and after a brief conversation with the girl, Mitch joined his wife. One on either side of Ben.

Ben hated feeling helpless, but he let Bethany and Mitch support him until they got to the café. The place was empty and cold, a stark contrast to all the times it had been filled with the talk of men and the clatter of dishes. What Ben wouldn’t give to crank up that grill and fry a few burgers!

Because he was drained from the afternoon’s socializing, he took the stairs slowly, one at a time. He didn’t like admitting how weak he felt, but Bethany and Mitch seemed to know without his saying a word.

“Sit down and make yourself at home,” Mitch said, urging him toward his favorite recliner.

“I
am
at home,” Ben snapped, then immediately regretted the outburst. “It feels good to have my own things around me. I—I appreciate your concern.”

Mitch accepted the apology by giving him a pat on the shoulder.

There was a certain solace in being home, among his familiar comforts. The recliner. The television with its antenna, one spoke wrapped in aluminum foil. He’d gotten a satellite dish a few years back, but hadn’t bothered to remove the antenna. You never knew when it might come in handy. His glance fell on the American flag framed and mounted on the wall. A small memento of more than twenty years in the navy.

It wasn’t much, but this was home and the place he loved.

“Help yourself to a drink,” he told Mitch, gesturing toward
the refrigerator in the compact kitchen. To his surprise Mitch took him up on the offer.

These days the couple generally stayed only long enough to make sure he was comfortable and then were on their way. Ben didn’t blame them; their lives were busy. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he wasn’t good company.

Bethany claimed the chair across from him, and Mitch sat on the thick padded arm, his hand resting on his wife’s shoulder. Come spring, Ben reminded himself, there’d be a brand-new baby at their house.

The thought of their child, his own grandchild, was one of the things that had helped him through the worst part of his recovery. He wanted to live to see Bethany’s children. He’d missed out on the chance to be a father, and he looked forward to being a grandpa.

“Mitch and I wanted to talk to you about the café,” Bethany said, glancing at her husband.

Ben tensed. He should’ve realized there was something coming. If these two thought they were going to convince him to retire and sell the café, they’d better think again.

“I’m not selling,” he said, unwilling to let them even broach the subject.

“Sell the café?” Bethany repeated. “Ben, no, we’d never suggest that!”

His shoulders relaxed as relief flowed through him.

“We only want to encourage you to hire some help.”

“I planned on doing that myself as soon as—”

“You got around to it,” Bethany finished for him. “You’ve been saying that for months. Here you are, recuperating from open-heart surgery, and you’re still just talking about it.”

“Yes, well…”

“Look at you. You’re barely out of the hospital and already you want to open the café.”

“Part-time,” he said under his breath, knowing they weren’t really prepared to listen. They’d already made up their minds, just like he had.

“Just how long would that part-time business last?” Bethany asked in a knowing voice. Ben suspected she was right. He’d open up the café for dinner, and soon people would start wandering in around lunchtime, and before he knew it, he’d be back on the same old treadmill. But it was what he loved, what he did best. Fact was, he longed for his friends. People used to come in every day for coffee and conversation, and he missed that more than anything. Heck, he was downright lonely.

“People count on me,” he said.

“We know that.” At least Mitch agreed with him. “That’s why we want you to hire someone to come and help
now.
Someone with plenty of experience you won’t need to train.”

“Just where do you suppose you’ll find someone like that?” Ben asked. He wanted it known right then and there that he didn’t think much of their idea. “Especially with the kind of wages I can afford.” His thoughts went into overdrive. Another cook, especially one with plenty of seasoning, would run the place
his
way. Pretty soon Ben wouldn’t belong in his own kitchen anymore!

“I’ve talked to Matt and Karen about taking in a boarder and—”

It hit him then. Strange how long it had taken him to catch on. Bethany and Mitch already had someone in mind.

“Who is it?” he asked outright, interrupting Mitch.

Once more the couple exchanged glances. “Mrs. McMurphy,” Mitch said.

“A woman?”

“Do you have something against a woman, Ben?” Bethany asked, challenge in her tone.

He opened his mouth to detail exactly why he
did
object to a woman working in his kitchen, then realized he couldn’t say one word without offending Bethany.

“Where’d you find her?” he asked instead.

“In Fairbanks. She cooked at the Sourdough Café for years. Christian and Sawyer go there a lot, so they met her. She told them she’s looking for a change of scene.”

Ben knew the Sourdough Café had a reputation for good food. His objections started to dwindle. “She won’t want to work here in Hard Luck,” he muttered. The kids meant well, he knew.

“Why don’t you meet her and ask her yourself?” Bethany suggested. “I talked to Sawyer, and he said Mrs. McMurphy could fly in with the mail run one day next week. If you don’t like her, then no harm done.”

He wasn’t going to like her, but Ben didn’t have the heart to burst the kids’ bubble. Just because the woman could cook didn’t mean he was comfortable letting a stranger into his kitchen.

“You’ll at least meet her, won’t you?” Bethany pressed.

“Okay, okay,” Ben answered reluctantly. “But I’m not making any promises.”

T
RACY WAS
out at the airfield by nine-thirty the next morning. Fat snowflakes drifted down from a leaden sky, and she wondered if the flight would be canceled because of the weather.

She lugged her suitcase into the mobile office for Midnight Sons, and the first person she saw was Duke. He appeared to be reading something on a clipboard; he didn’t look up or acknowledge her. Not that she expected he would.

Sawyer O’Halloran was there, as well, talking into the radio; he was apparently collecting the latest weather data.

When he’d finished, he turned off the switch and swiveled around to greet Tracy. “Looks like it’ll just be you and Duke.”

This was not promising. “What happened to Mr. and Mrs. Douglas? We’re supposed to be leaving together.”

“They’ve decided to stay on another day,” Sawyer explained. “Mrs. Douglas doesn’t want to fly in the snow.”

“Will the storm be a problem?” Tracy asked.

“Not as far as we can tell, and Duke’s the best pilot in our fleet. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he said, then casually mentioned that the plane had recently been serviced. This, she suspected, was done to reassure her that everything was in good shape.

Duke’s gaze met hers. “You want to wait with the Douglases?” he asked. Although there was nothing in his voice, a glint of challenge flashed from his cool gray eyes.

“No, I’ll go,” she said. Really she had no choice. Her court schedule was packed and she couldn’t afford to miss any more work.

“What time’s your flight out of Fairbanks?” Duke asked.

She told him, and he glanced at his watch. “Then let’s leave now. If we’re lucky we’ll be able to avoid the worst of the storm.”

She reached for her suitcase. Duke paused, his eyes holding hers. “You aren’t afraid of a little snow, are you?”

“Of course not.” Somehow, it seemed important not to let
him know she didn’t entirely trust him
or
the weather. But the truth was, she’d prefer to fly when the weather was clear.

He nodded in approval. “You ready?” he asked, setting aside the clipboard.

“Sure,” she said brightly, forcing some enthusiasm into her voice.

Duke headed out the door, and she guessed she was expected to follow him. But she didn’t, not right away.

“Sawyer,” she said, gripping her suitcase with both hands.

The middle O’Halloran brother looked up from his desk.

“I just wanted you to know that…that I think you’ve been completely fair with the women you’ve hired.” This was more awkward than she’d thought. For some time now, she’d wanted to apologize, set the record straight, and this was the first real opportunity she’d had. “I realize we started off on the wrong foot, what with me arriving here the way I did. I couldn’t be happier for Mariah and Christian, and the others.”

He cracked a smile and dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. You were only doing your job. The Douglases are decent people, and they had every right to be concerned about Mariah.”

Tracy felt better for having shared her regrets. They’d weighed on her mind all weekend. She’d meant the O’Hallorans no harm. Over the past year she’d come to respect the three brothers, and she didn’t want there to be any hard feelings.

“I guess I should be on my way,” she said, glancing over her shoulder toward the door. “I had a marvelous weekend. Thank you.”

“We’re glad you could make the wedding on such short notice.”

It had taken a bit of finagling, but Tracy had managed to change her schedule, flying in on Friday afternoon. This was one wedding she hadn’t wanted to miss, even though it meant traveling more than twenty-five hundred miles.

Duke was inspecting the exterior of the plane when Tracy joined him. “You can get in,” he said absently.

“Thanks,” she muttered, more certain than ever that this one-hour flight would feel like a lifetime. She’d taken Mariah’s advice and dressed warmly in wool pants and a thick cable-knit sweater. Since the interior of the aircraft was heated, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to keep her coat on or take it off.