Midnight Sons Volume 3 (7 page)

“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.

B
ETHANY 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.”

C
HRISTIAN 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!”

F
IRE
. M
ARIAH’S HEART
hammered against her rib cage as she fought her overwhelming panic.

At first she tried to battle down the flames, but her puny efforts only seemed to make matters worse. The blaze came out from the pipes that led from her stove and licked ravenously at the old wood.

Soon the room was engulfed in smoke. Mariah choked and coughed, struggling to breathe. Grabbing what clothes she could, she staggered outside.

Air. Beautiful clean air filled her lungs. She sucked in a deep breath and immediately had a coughing fit. With no time to spare, she dragged in another lungful, then hurried back into the burning cabin for her purse.

Blinded by the smoke, she fumbled about helplessly, seeking her important papers, plus the most precious item she owned, the little jade bear. She could
not
lose that to the fire. All at once her mind wouldn’t function properly. Where, oh where,
had she left her purse? And the bear—wasn’t it on her nightstand?

“Mariah!”

Someone yelled her name, but it sounded as if it had come from a great distance. She felt herself weakening, needing desperately to breathe. The smoke dulled her senses, but she refused to give up, refused to leave until she’d found the jade bear and her purse.

“Mariah!” Whoever sought her was much closer now. Her name came to her, sounding frantic and fearful.

“Here.” How pitifully weak she felt. Not until she saw a pair of men’s shoes did she realize she was on the floor.

Strong arms scooped her up and carried her out the door.

Air again. Beautiful, clean air.

She breathed in deeply, coughed again and staggered back toward the house.

“Mariah, are you crazy?” Christian stopped her by circling his arms about her waist. “You can’t go back.”

“But—”

“Nothing in there is worth dying for, damn it!”

He didn’t understand what she was after, so she fought him, using every ounce of strength she possessed. She tugged and pulled but made no headway against his superior strength.

“Mariah,” he said, turning her around. “Stop!” His fingers dug unmercifully into her shoulders. The fire hissed and spit, the heat so fierce it was suffocating.

“My purse, the bear…”

“Bear? What bear?”

In the distance Mariah heard the fire siren, piercing the evening with its urgency, screaming tragedy to the entire town.

“My purse and your gift—I need them.” She’d lost every
thing, but her mind focused on the two things she valued most. She was thinking less and less clearly. So little made sense.

“You mean to tell me you risked your fool neck over your
purse?
” Christian shouted.

She jerked her elbows from side to side, futilely seeking release. “Let me go!”

“Not on your life,” he said, none too gently. “Not on your life.”

The bright yellow fire truck screeched to a stop in front of the burning cabin. Five or six men moved with impressive agility to free the hose. Their figures blurred as they worked together.

Mariah recognized Sawyer and Mitch Harris and Marvin Gold, who were all members of the volunteer fire department. She wanted to tell them to hurry, but even as the words worked their way up her throat, she knew it was too late. All was lost—her home and everything inside it. No hope remained.

With his arm wrapped protectively around her, Christian drew her away from her cabin, which was by now fully engulfed in flames. A chill came over her as she stood by and silently watched the fire swallow up everything she owned, every possession, save the armful of clothes she’d managed to snatch.

A breathless Dotty Livengood arrived, having raced over from her home. “Is Mariah all right?” She directed the question at Christian.

“I don’t know.”

“Let me check her.”

“Mariah.” Before Dotty reached her, Christian placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Were you burned?”

Mariah saw his lips move and heard the words, but it was as though he was standing on the other side of a glass wall.
Nothing seemed to touch her, to penetrate her confusion and loss. The question took several minutes to register. Was she hurt? Had she been burned? She felt no pain, not physical at least. Only loss, deep and personal loss.

“Her hands.” This comment came from Christian, and it seemed to her, even from this emotional distance, that he was angry, frustrated. “It looks like she blistered her fingers.”

“She must have tried to put out the fire herself.” Dotty’s gentle voice soothed her.

“I can’t believe what she just did,” Christian muttered. “I had to drag her out of the house. She was after her purse and some silly figurine I gave her. She risked her life for a forty-dollar piece of jade.” His anger spilled out of him like water hissing against a hot burner.

“Christian.” It was Dotty again, her voice forceful. “Calm down.”

“I can’t!” he shouted. “Do you realize she could have
died
in there? If I hadn’t arrived when I did, no one would’ve been able to save her. We barely got out in time.”

“Take several deep breaths,” Dotty said. “You’ve both had a fright, but you’re safe now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Her purse and a figurine! She was willing to die trying to save them!” The rage in Christian seemed to intensify as the other men dealt with the fire. He began to pace, his steps awkward and abrupt as he attempted to manage his anger.

Mariah was only now beginning to comprehend what had happened. She wasn’t sure how the fire had started; all she knew was that she’d lit her stove, trying to chase away the chill. It’d been weeks since she’d lit the thing, and there must have been something in the chimney, because a few minutes later the pipe started to glow. The dry cabin wall behind it caught
fire and then, in almost no time, the curtains. The flames roared across the room so quickly, they’d been impossible to stop.

“Take her over to the clinic,” Dotty instructed Christian. “I’ll tend to those burns.”

Others were arriving now, children and adults alike. Their eyes filled with sympathy and fear.

“Go,” Dotty told Christian.

He guided Mariah away from the gathering crowd. She looked back only once at what had been her home.

Dotty got there a little later. “They weren’t able to save anything,” she said sadly.

Christian nodded. He couldn’t seem to stand still. And Mariah could barely move; she didn’t have the strength. It felt as though someone had sucked the very life from her. It was an effort just to keep her head up.

“Mariah,” Dotty said in a gentle voice, “you’ve had quite a shock.”

Christian paced the clinic. “She was on the floor when I found her,” he said. “If I’d arrived a minute later I might never have reached her. She came so close to dying in the fire.”

“Christian, you’ve had a scare, too.”

“The woman hasn’t got a brain in her head. Just how important can a purse be?” With rough, angry movements, he rubbed the back of his neck. “She shouldn’t even have been
living
in that cabin. The place is a firetrap! But she was so damn stubborn, insisting this was where she had to stay—”

“Christian!”

“She should go back to Seattle!” he exploded. “I’ll personally pay for her ticket. At least there she won’t be dealing with fires and a bunch of women-hungry men.”

She should be back in Seattle.
The words penetrated the haze in Mariah’s mind, and a sob erupted from deep in her throat. Christian had never made a secret of how he felt about her, but the fact that he could be so cruel now, when she’d lost everything, was more than she could bear.

“Christian O’Halloran, what a rotten thing to say!” Dotty snapped. “I think it would be best if you left. The last thing Mariah needs now is you haranguing her.”

Mariah watched Christian stomp out of the health clinic.

Leaning her head against the wall, she sighed and closed her eyes. Tears were close to the surface, but she held them at bay, concentrating, instead, on the pain in her hands. They’d started to throb, and she was grateful when Dotty returned.

Soon Dotty had taken care of her burns and bandaged her hands. Shortly after that, Abbey and Lanni O’Halloran came by with Karen Caldwell and Bethany Harris to check on her.

“Are you okay?” Abbey asked, sitting next to Mariah and placing an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Mariah assured her friends. But she wasn’t. The sense of devastation hit her again, bringing fresh tears. Everything she’d worked for in the past year was lost. The man she secretly loved was furious with her. Now her hands were burned and bandaged and she was unable to work. She had no home, no place to live.

“If I was smart, I’d do what Christian said,” she mumbled, forcing herself to smile.

“What did Christian say?” Bethany asked, glancing at Dotty.

“He suggested she return to Seattle,” the nurse answered, her lips pinched disapprovingly. “Someone needs to have a talk with that young man.”

“He said
what?
” Lanni demanded, outraged.

“How dare he!” This came from Karen.

The atmosphere in the room crackled with indignation.

“Just a moment,” Abbey said, stroking Mariah’s back. “Let’s not be so quick to condemn him. I had a chance to talk to him just now, and you know what? I’ve never seen Christian so upset.”

With me,
Mariah added silently.

“He’s had the scare of a lifetime. Think about it. Christian almost lost Mariah, and he couldn’t handle that.”

“Then why would he say something so terrible to her, especially now?” Lanni asked, her eyes flashing at the insult.

“In my experience, a man will express what he fears most, rather than let it sneak up on him. Women do the same thing, but not as often.”

“You’re making excuses for him,” Bethany said.

“No,” Abbey insisted. “I think he’ll be back to apologize to Mariah the minute he realizes what he said. Christian no more wants Mariah to move back to Seattle than he wants to live there himself.”

“And if he doesn’t apologize, then I know a number of women who’ll be more than happy to assist him in seeing his mistake,” Karen said meaningfully.

Dotty chuckled. “You know, I almost feel sorry for that boy.”

“Now listen, Mariah, we’ve got this all figured out,” Abbey assured her, again with gentle firmness.

“Right.” Karen stood in the center of the room, arms akimbo. “You’re going to need someplace to live until you rebuild. I’m sure that with all the new construction in town, you could find someone to do it quickly.”

“Rebuild. Yes. I—I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she
whispered, grateful for her friends. Her mind remained confused, her confidence in the future badly shaken.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Karen continued. “You’re going to come and live with Matt and me at the lodge.”

“The lodge.” Mariah knew she must sound like an echo, but making decisions, even simple ones, was beyond her.

“We’re going to take care of everything,” Abbey promised. Somehow Mariah doubted that anyone could help her repair the mess she’d made of her life. It was too late for that.

“A
RE YOU GOING
to the Labor Day community dance?” Ben asked Christian when he arrived for breakfast a couple of days after the fire.

“The dance?” Hard Luck routinely celebrated Labor Day with a festive get-together. Because of all the problems at the office and the chaos following the fire, Christian hadn’t given the matter more than a fleeting thought. “I guess,” he said with little enthusiasm. He attended every Labor Day dance and didn’t expect this year to be any different.

“Will you be taking Mariah?”

Christian noticed that Ben had saved that for the punch line. At the sound of Mariah’s name, it was all Christian could do to keep from clenching his fists.

Every time he remembered the fire, he became so angry he couldn’t think straight. The woman had nearly lost her life! A chill ran down his spine again at the realization. He averted his gaze, not wanting Ben to know how intensely all this had affected him.

“Uh, how’s she doing?” Christian cut the sourdough hotcakes with his fork.

“I hear she’s staying at the lodge.”

Christian nodded; he’d already learned that much.

“With her hands all bandaged up, she can’t work. She felt real bad about that,” Ben said, “but I’ve been running this café on my own close to twenty years now. I told her I could manage for however long it takes her hands to heal.”

“Was she badly burned?”

“Nah. Dotty seems to think she’ll be good as new in a week or so.”

Christian was relieved to hear it.

“I understand you single-handedly riled every woman in town.” Ben chuckled as he walked to the other end of the counter, where Duke and Ralph were finishing breakfast, and refreshed their coffee.

“So it seems,” Christian muttered. He wasn’t proud of his outburst, but he’d been so furious with Mariah that he couldn’t have suppressed the words if he’d tried. At the time, he’d meant every one. He’d never been more frightened in his life. Only last night, he’d awakened in a cold sweat, trembling. He’d dreamed about the fire, that he’d gone into the house and hadn’t been able to find her. For a long time after he woke, his heart continued to race. There was no point in trying to sleep again, so before dawn, he’d dressed and gone to the burned-out cabin. He’d stood there until the sun rose, giving incoherent thanks that Mariah had been spared.
“She’s safe.”
He’d repeated it over and over—but couldn’t quite forget that she’d almost died.

“What are you going to do now?” Ben asked.

“What
can
I do? Apologize, I guess,” Christian muttered. He glanced over at the two pilots, feeling like a fool. As it was, his own brother had no use for him. Sawyer had yet to forgive him
for losing their secretary, and the situation hadn’t improved, since he hadn’t immediately hired another. Now, to make everything even worse, he seemed to be blaming Christian for the danger to Mariah, for letting her stay in the cabin.
Letting
her stay!