Midnight Sun (Sinclair Sisters) (16 page)

“Dammit, Charity, that office is where I do business.”

“Come on, we’re neighbors. Besides, you owe me. Aren’t I lying in this bed because you crashed the plane I was flying in?”

He could feel the blood draining out of his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, sitting up in the bed. “I was only kidding. What happened wasn’t your fault—we both know that. The engine went out, for God’s sake. You don’t owe me anything. In fact, you rescued me, probably saved my life.”

Call eased her gently back down. “It might not have been my fault, but I do owe you.” He sighed, raked his fingers through his hair. “You can use one of the damned computers.”

Charity grinned. Leaning forward, she gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’re a real pal, Hawkins.”

He fixed her with a glare. “Yeah, well, wait till you hear the favor I want in return.”

Tony King sat at a table in a small, out-of-the-way bar off Market Street, not far from Gordon’s office. “What can I say? The guy got lucky.” He was only in the city for a couple of days, just long enough for a brief meeting with his partner, do a little business of his own, and get back to L.A.

“Hawkins seems to have more than his share of luck.”

“The lab fire should have slowed things down. If it had, we would have had more time to prepare. This isn’t the kind of business you can rush. Not and get away clean.”

“No, I’m sure it isn’t.” Gordon leaned back in the red leather captain’s chair across the table, took a sip of the single-malt Scotch, Glenmorangie that he favored. He was a tall, distinguished-looking man with silver hair that had been blond when Tony first met him. Tony had dark hair and olive skin. Women were drawn to Gordon’s polished charm, but they liked Tony’s hard-edged style just as much.

“I should have known Hawkins would step in after the fire,” Gordon said, “and find some way to keep things moving. But the project is so small, I assumed he would leave it to Held.”

“In the old days he would have. He wouldn’t have had enough time to handle it himself.”

“Whatever the case, the lab is up and running. Which means we’ll have to deal with the problem fairly soon.” He set the Scotch down on the small round table. “I don’t need to remind you how much we’ve both got invested in this. Our sources say Held is close to a breakthrough. Once the announcement is made, our long-range plans are finished. We’ll lose everything we’ve worked for the last eighteen years.”

The edges of Tony’s mouth flattened out. “We aren’t losing anything. I’ll take care of this—just like I always do.”

“I’m sure you will,” Gordon said.

Tony knew his partner meant it. Gordon trusted him to get the job done and Tony intended to see that it was. “I’d better get moving. I’ve got a lot to do before I catch that plane.”

Gordon sipped his drink. “Give my love to Alice and the kids.”

Tony didn’t answer. He never thought of his family when he was doing this kind of business. Leaving Gordon to pay the bill, he made his way out the door into the San Francisco street. He needed to talk to his man, Stan Grossman, needed to get things rolling again.

Stan had warned him about trying to move too quickly. There was too much at stake to risk a screwup. This time Tony would listen.

It was Monday morning, a workday, and Charity wanted to go home. At Call’s instruction, Toby had driven down to Maude’s to tell her about the plane crash and that Charity was safe and staying with Call until she felt up to going back to the cabin. Toby also drove up the hill to Buck Johnson’s to tell him they wouldn’t be working today.

Toby had returned and was cheerfully cooking breakfast by the time Charity got up. Call was in his office, working, no doubt, on the problem at Datatron. Her headache was gone. If she’d had a concussion, it must have been minor. Still, she hadn’t slept well last night. Not with Call in the room next door. Though he checked on her several times before morning, it wasn’t the same as having him in bed with her. Funny how quickly she’d grown used to sleeping beside him.

Sometime near dawn, she had finally fallen asleep and Call didn’t wake her till late that morning. A lingering shower revived her spirits, along with a delicious stack of Toby’s hotcakes.

Carrying her ruined, soot-covered clothes in a bundle, dressed in her hiking boots and the tee shirt she had worn to bed last night, she accepted the loan of Call’s raincoat and let him walk her back to the cabin, his big wolf-husky trailing along at his side.

There was a car parked in the driveway. She hadn’t seen what appeared to be a rental car, a light blue Ford Taurus, drive up the hill, and apparently neither had Call.

“Looks like you’ve got company,” he said.

“Looks like. I wonder who it is.” Just then, the door swung and a man stood framed in the opening. Charity froze in her tracks as Jeremy Hauser stepped out on the porch.

For a moment she just stood there, her stomach churning, trying to convince herself she was still asleep and this was a very bad dream.

Please God, I promise to be a good girl if you’ll just …
She didn’t finish the mantra. The fervent prayer hadn’t worked when she was a kid wanting a new pony and it wasn’t going to make Jeremy disappear.

He came down the porch stairs and started walking toward her, the smile on his face fading as he assessed the tall man at her side, her still-damp hair, and the odd fit of her borrowed clothes.

“What the hell?” His gaze moved from her to Call and back. He looked her up and down, surveying the borrowed raincoat, the bare legs exposed beneath the drooping hem, and the sockless hiking boots on her feet.

Jeremy’s jaw tightened. “Tell me you didn’t just climb out of this guy’s bed.”

“Actually, I… um …”

“Actually, she did.” Call’s eyes were dark and glinting, the edge of his mouth barely curved.

“It wasn’t like that, Jeremy, not exactly. I was in this plane crash, you see, and the doctors thought I might have a concussion. I-I wasn’t supposed to be alone so I slept in Call—Mr. Hawkin’s—guest room.” She turned a pleading look on Call.

“Call Hawkins,” he said, not bothering to offer his hand. “And you must be Jeremy Hauser.”

“That’s right.” Jeremy reached over and caught her arm, drew her stumbling toward him. “I flew three thousand miles to see you, Charity,” he said. “We really need to talk.”

She glanced over her shoulder and didn’t miss the black scowl lining Call’s face.

“Don’t mind me,” he said with a scowl. “I was just leaving.” Turning, he started back the way he had come. Charity watched him stalking away, Smoke trotting along beside him, then dragged her eyes back to Jeremy’s face.

He was better-looking than she remembered, his eyes a deeper shade of green. As always, his jet-black hair was perfectly styled, his features almost elegantly refined. He was immaculately dressed in a conservative orange-and-brown sweater and a pair of khaki slacks. She wished he would just disappear.

“When … when did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago. I took a night flight from JFK and got into Whitehorse early this morning. I caught a small commuter to Dawson, rented a car, then went to see that real estate man you mentioned, Boomer Smith. He gave me directions out here. The door was open so I went in.”

He didn’t say anything about the cabin. The place was hardly Jeremy’s style.

“You all right?” he asked. “I mean, that thing about the plane crash …”

“I’m fine. I bumped my head but it’s okay now.”

Jeremy nodded. He was never one to worry much over someone else’s health.

“You must be exhausted,” she said, thinking of the long flight he had made to get there. “Why don’t we go inside and I’ll make us some coffee.” Casting a last glance at Call, who disappeared out of sight down the path, she climbed the steps and walked into the cabin with Jeremy.

The last person on earth she wanted to see.

It was cold inside. She busied herself getting the place heated up, kneeling in front of the stove, adding wood pellets and starting a blaze.

“It doesn’t take long to warm up. Give me a minute to put on some clothes and I’ll come back and make us some coffee.” She started past him, but Jeremy caught her arm. He pulled her against him, bent his head and tried to kiss her, but Charity turned away.

Jeremy let her go. “Oh, I get it. You and the lumberjack, right? All that crap about sleeping in the guest room was exactly that—crap.”

“Jeremy—”

“The least you could have done was tell me. You let me fly three thousand miles—”

“I had no idea you’d fly all the way out here just to see me. I thought we pretty much ended things when I left New York.”

“You said you wanted an adventure. You said putting some space between us might help us decide where our relationship was headed. Well, that’s exactly what it did. After you left, I realized how much I loved you. I thought by now, maybe you had realized it, too.”

How long had she waited to hear him say those words? Now that he had, she no longer wanted to hear them.

She sank down on the sofa and Jeremy sat down beside her. He reached over and took her hand. “Look, babe, I understand what happened. You were up here by yourself. You were lonesome and the guy took advantage. Sometimes those things happen. It doesn’t matter—I forgive you. What’s important is that—”

“You forgive me? Are you going to sit there and tell me you haven’t slept with anyone since I left?” She knew him better than that. Jeremy was needy. He wouldn’t have lasted two weeks without a woman to take care of him.

“Well, I… Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I never cheated on you when we were together and I don’t think you cheated on me. You’re the woman I love. I came here to ask you to marry me.”

Oh, God.
Charity sat there, stunned, as Jeremy pulled a blue velvet box out of the pocket of his slacks and flipped open the lid. A brilliant-cut solitaire set between two diamond baguettes gleamed on a bed of white satin.

“It’s beautiful, Jeremy, really exquisite … but …” He pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. Her hand trembled. She wished she knew what to say.

She looked up at him, very gently slid the ring off her finger, and pressed it into his palm. “I care for you, Jeremy. We meant something to each other, once. I haven’t forgotten that. I’m flattered that you asked, but I don’t want to marry you.”

The hand holding the ring tightened into a fist. “Don’t tell me you want to marry
him?”
He said it like a dirty word and Charity’s mouth went dry.

“Of course not.” She didn’t, did she? “Call’s a very …”
Nice
was hardly the word for Call Hawkins. Arrogant, obstinate, domineering. Capable, intelligent, protective, the sexiest man she’d ever met. “He’s just a friend.”

“A sleeping-together sort of friend.”

“The point is—”

“The point is, you and Paul Bunyan have some kind of thing going and I’m no longer in the picture.”

Some kind of thing?
She thought about the way Call had looked when he had seen Jeremy walk out on the porch. She wondered if he had any sort of feelings for her beyond sexual attraction and began to realize how deeply her feelings ran for him.

“I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, Jeremy. If I’d had any idea what you were thinking, I would have called and tried to explain. But I didn’t and it’s too late now.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Neither can I,” she said before she could stop herself. “Well, you’re here and for the present there’s nothing either of us can do about it. It’s beautiful up here. Before you go back, maybe we could take a ride and I could show you some of the country.”

He looked around the little cabin, but still made no comment. “I suppose I might as well,” he said with a pained expression. “I’d planned to stay all week. Now I’ll have to reschedule, try to get a flight out sometime tomorrow.” He dragged out his cell phone, started to punch in numbers.

“Um, I’m afraid that won’t work. You’ll have to walk up the hill a little to get any sort of reception.”

He gave her a look that said
What the hell kind of place is this?
Making his way outside, he climbed up the hill to make the call and came back a few minutes later.

Charity couldn’t help thinking that for a man who was supposed to be madly in love, he was taking this very well.

“I was able to make connections tomorrow,” he said. “You don’t mind if I spend the night, do you?”

Of course she minded! Having Jeremy as a houseguest was the last thing she wanted. But hey, the man had come all this way to propose. She could hardly toss him out on his ear.

Inwardly, she groaned. A whole day and night with Jeremy Hauser. There was a time she would have leapt for joy if he had spared that kind of time for her. Now she just wished it was time for him to go home.

In the end, Jeremy didn’t leave until late the following day, catching the little Air North commuter from Dawson to Whitehorse, where he would have to spend the night. From there he planned to catch a very early plane to New York via Vancouver.

Charity had never been so glad to see anyone leave.

As she swept the porch, she thought of the uncomfortable evening they had shared and heaved a sigh of relief that it wouldn’t be repeated.

“That bad, was it?” Maude had arrived for work at her usual early hour and wound up cooking breakfast for both Charity and Jeremy. Charity could tell by the older woman’s expression that Maude had guessed they were once romantically involved, even if the wrinkled sofa throw cover made it obvious he had slept on the couch.

“It wasn’t the best, that’s for sure. Hard to believe there was a time I actually thought I was in love with him.”

“Well, he seemed nice enough. A little stiff in the rump, maybe, but a real good-looker. Snappy dresser, too.”

“Real snappy. That was Ralph Lauren he was wearing. That’s really dressing down for Jeremy.”

Maude stuck the stem of her unlit pipe in her mouth and talked around it. “So he’s outta the picture, is he?”

“Definitely. He asked me to marry him and I wasn’t the least bit tempted.”

Maude chuckled. “Always nice to be asked, though.”

Charity started sweeping. “I suppose so.” But she was thinking of Call, not Jeremy Hauser.

“Somethin’ I been meanin’ to ask.”

Charity stopped working. Maude never asked anything. “What is it?”

“My granddaughter’s comin’ in next week. Gonna be stayin’ with me for a couple of months this summer. I didn’t know she was comin’ when I took the job, but my son wrote and asked, and I said it was all right. I was wonderin’ if you’d mind if she came down with me once in a while.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind. How old is she?”

“Just turned eighteen. Her name’s Jenny. She’s just graduated high school. Robert—that’s my boy, Robbie, he’s Robert now—wants her to go on to college, but she says she ain’t sure that’s what she wants. That’s why he’s sendin’ her up here, give her time to make up her mind.”

“Where’s she live?”

“Los Angeles. Robbie moved down there with his dad, my ex-husband Fred, when he was still a kid. Robbie’s got a fancy job there now, makes all kinds of money.”

Charity set the broom aside, wondering if Maude ever got to see him. “Bring her whenever you want. I could use the company.”

“Maybe she could work some, pick up a little extra spendin’ money.”

“Actually, that’s a good idea. I could use a hand with some of the chores.” Finished with the porch, Charity joined Maude at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s only been a few days, but I feel like I’ve been away from work for a month. Buck’s been running the backhoe down by the creek. Why don’t we pull him away from that and do a little dredging, see what we can find today?”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

Buck had been playing around with the backhoe all morning, digging up chunks of dirt from the side of the hill down at the end of the claim, then hauling it back and dumping it next to the sluice box so he could shovel it into the machine. Charity didn’t like him mining that way. Digging up the ground, she felt, was too detrimental to the environment. It was the same reason she didn’t use mercury to process black sand concentrates, the way some amateur miners extracted minuscule particles of gold.

The dredge was better, simply sifting through the mud and gravel beneath the creek, then dumping it back into the water. And the truth was, as much fun as it was to find gold, she hadn’t really come here intending to get rich.

She glanced down the creek toward Call’s house. She could see the cedar walls and the gleam of sunlight on one of the windows. She wondered if he was still angry over Jeremy. She wondered if he knew her one-time lover had spent the night and thought how she would feel if the situation were reversed.

She chewed on a nagging cuticle, her worry beginning to build. Call wouldn’t come over. Not when he thought she was still involved with Jeremy. She needed to talk to him, explain what had happened, but she wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Hi, Mr. One-night-stand. Just wanted you to know I broke it off completely with my ex. Why? Because you’re the guy I’m crazy about. I’m all yours now—isn’t that just terrific?

She groaned to think how happy that would make him.

She had to face him sooner or later, but she wasn’t ready yet. In the meantime, she would work a little, clear her muddled thoughts.