Mountains Apart (Mills & Boon Heartwarming) (8 page)

“Yep, that's it.”
That's always it,
she added in silent disappointment.

“Hmm, sounds kind of boring.”

“It was,” she found herself admitting, “but I'm not bored now.”

His mouth held a satisfied smirk. “That's good. I see you ordered the root beer.”

“I did. A friend recommended it, but I haven't tasted it yet.”

The curve of his lips widened into a smile. “That's good, too, because now I can see your face when you try it.”

“Bering, what could possibly be so special about it? It's root beer.”

He lifted a brow.

Emily gripped the mug and took a sip...and felt her taste buds celebrate. “Wow,” she said as she looked down at the mug and then back up at Bering. “What the...?”

The look of pleasure that flashed across his face made Emily smile in return.

“It's the syrup,” he explained. “It's from birch trees unique to Alaska.”

“Ah, were you worried I wouldn't like it?” she asked.

“No, I wasn't worried. There's sugar in it,” he teased.

* * *

A
MANDA
 
AND
T
AG
 
wandered off to play a game of pool, and Bering and Emily were soon completely oblivious to the blatant speculation of the other patrons, or to anything else going on around them, for that matter.

“I hope you haven't eaten, because I ordered dinner and I went ahead and ordered something for you, too. I would have asked but I didn't think you were here yet.”

“Oh, thank you. That's nice. No, I haven't eaten, and I am hungry. We were really busy today, what with the response to that letter in the paper.”

“I think you might work too hard.”

“That's impossible,” she countered. “There's no such thing as working too hard—there's only working inefficiently.”

“But what do you do for fun?”

“Work is fun to me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, work is fun to me, too—mostly. But life is full of other fun things—more important things—obviously, than work. I like to fish, believe it or not, in my spare time, even though I do that for work, too. I snowshoe, cross-country ski in the winter. I like kayaking and hiking and backpacking in the summer. I like to read. I spend as much time as I can with my family. My nephews mean the world to me and just spending time with them makes me happy.” He gestured at her as if she should continue the thread of conversation.

Emily felt cornered. When she wasn't working, she was thinking about work or reading about work—mining, drilling, fracking techniques... That was who she was, so why she was suddenly embarrassed by this lack of depth, she wasn't sure. Probably because Bering's life seemed so much more multifaceted than hers, more interesting, and the idea of having a relationship with her family like he so obviously had with his made her heart twist in an uncomfortable way. She opted for a subject change.

“Hmm, I'm trying to picture what this place looks like in the summer. I'm imagining it is probably somewhat more palatable?”

His searching look had her suspecting that he'd picked up on her tactic. She was grateful when he let it go. He leaned back and proceeded to tell her how beautiful Rankins was in the summer. How enduring the cold winter was all worthwhile if you could just experience one warm and wild Alaskan summer. Much like the bears, he explained, Alaskans needed the slower pace of winter to recover from the indulgences of the summer. Even Mother Nature cooperated, he pointed out, by giving them so many daylight hours in the summer to enjoy her bounty.

Emily snorted inelegantly and opened her mouth to voice her doubts, but the waitress showed up with a steaming tray held high above her head. She lowered it, and as heavenly odors besieged Emily's senses, she realized she was absolutely famished. But as she examined the meal set in front of her, she felt her heart sink.

Emily politely waited until the waitress was well away before scowling down at the heaping plate. She leaned over and sniffed. Then she glared up at him. “What is this?” she hissed. “I may not eat fish, Bering, but I certainly know it when I see it.”

“That is halibut.”

“You say that like that makes it okay. But a fish by any other name is still a fish.”

He grinned. “I know, I know, I remember that you don't like seafood. But it's been my experience that most people who say they don't like fish have never had halibut. I just want you to try it, and if you don't like it, then I'll order you something else. Anything you want. The house sirloin is great. We'll have that next time—with the grilled prawns.”

She tapped her fingertips on the table and eyed the plate warily. She nibbled on her lower lip. Her stomach was rumbling now and it smelled so good that her mouth had begun to water. She hadn't actually tasted fish since she'd been a small girl, so she supposed it wouldn't hurt to try it. The potatoes looked delicious, and so did the soft fluffy bun next to it—thankfully, there didn't appear to be any nuts or seeds in it. There was also a pile of roasted vegetables she was pretty sure she could stomach. That was more than enough there to fill her up right....

“Emily, it's not going to hurt you. I promise.”

“I know that,” she said stiffly and picked up her fork. She cut off a generous bite, shoveled it onto her fork, lifted it toward her mouth and then abruptly stopped. She curled her lips inward and studied the morsel on the end of her fork. She waffled for a split second until she noticed the look of challenge on Bering's face.

“You know what? It smells delicious.” She confidently kept her eyes locked with Bering's as she carried the fork the rest of the way. And then her mouth exploded with flavor. She tried to keep her face composed.

“Well?” he said.

The knowing look in his eyes had a part of her wanting to deny its tastiness, but her stomach overruled her. She scooped another bite onto her fork and into her mouth. She shrugged a shoulder. “It's edible, I suppose.”

Bering shook his head and chuckled. Then he picked up his fork and began eating his own meal.

* * *

E
MILY
 
QUICKLY
 
READ
 
the notes she had prepared. Laurel Davidson owned the local newspaper as well as the entire city block in which the
Rankins Press
was housed. She'd never been married, had no children, although she did have a younger sister for whom she was the legal guardian. She was generally considered to have very open-minded views for the small town of Rankins, but this seemed to be forgiven due to her fair editorial practices, her gift for diplomacy and her likable nature.

Emily stepped into the office and was surprised by how modern-looking it was. She'd imagined the sounds of clacking typewriters and envisioned a gargantuan antique-looking printing press with an ink-stained white-haired man in a bow tie hovering over it. But instead what she found was a smattering of state-of-the-art computers at several very modern-looking workstations complete with flat-screen computer monitors and ergonomic chairs. Her eyes darted around and she saw no sign of an actual press at all. And there was only one person in evidence, one very young woman, and she was working the reception desk. So much for assumptions, she thought as the girl flashed a friendly smile in her direction.

“Hi, you must be Emily,” she said, standing and reaching out a hand to greet her. “I'm Piper Davidson, Laurel's sister. She said I'd know you when you came in and she was right.” Emily thought that was an odd statement considering that she and Laurel hadn't even met yet.

“Nice to meet you, Piper.”

“So, I heard you were coming to the Rotary Club fund-raising dinner.”

“Word travels fast around here, huh?”

“Emily, honey, you have no idea. The whole town has been talking about you and Bering James having dinner together at the Caribou last night.”

Emily raised her brows and feigned a look of surprise. She really shouldn't be surprised; she'd worked in enough small towns to believe that what Piper said was true. “Oh?”

“Are you two dating?”

Emily laughed at her directness and decided that she liked this girl. “Let me guess—you do the gossip section for the paper?”

“Now, see, I've been trying to convince my sister that the
Press
is in dire need of exactly such a thing. You wouldn't mind mentioning it to her, would you?”

“Not at all,” she said.

“In case you didn't already know, the Rotary Club fund-raiser is a really big deal around here. I bet you have a fabulous dress. Did you donate anything? Are you and Bering going together?”

“You know what, Piper? Forget about my talking to your sister about a column. I think you should bypass this small-town stuff and apply directly to those celebrity magazines.”

“Piper, are you pestering Ms. Hollings?”

Emily turned at the sound of the voice that obviously belonged to Laurel Davidson. Dressed in jeans and a snuggly turtleneck, she wore no makeup and her dark, silky hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. With her olive skin and high cheekbones, she looked vaguely exotic, yet something about her suggested wholesomeness at the same time. Beauty and trustworthiness—beneficial traits, Emily knew, in a reporter.

“No way,” replied Piper. “But she did say that I would be fabulous for a ‘noteworthy people' type of column, didn't you, Ms. Hollings?” She looked at her sister. “Did you hear that part?”

“Don't you have work to do?”

She grinned slyly. “I'm doing it.”

Laurel gave her a withering look. She put her hand out toward Emily. “It's nice to finally meet you in person, Ms. Hollings.”

“Please, call me Emily,” she said as she shook Laurel's hand.

“And I'm Laurel. So, are you ready for this?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Good, let's move to my office, where we're out of earshot of some of my more nosy employees.”

“Hey,” Piper retorted, “I don't make up the gossip—I just report it.”

Emily and Laurel made small talk as they got some coffee and then settled into Laurel's office.

“I'm afraid Piper is right about you being the talk of the town,” Laurel said.

Emily grinned crookedly and shrugged a shoulder. “That's good. That means I'm doing my job.”

“Yes, and fortunately a good share of the chatter is due to the real reason that you're here—and not because you were seen with Bering last night. Cam-Field's presence here is causing quite a stir. I heard you knocked it out of the park at the Chamber of Commerce meeting. I'm sorry I missed it, but I read the minutes.”

“I think it went well. Better than I expected, although I thought I would be hearing a rebuttal from the opposing faction.”

“That surprised me, too, initially. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Bering isn't one to waste his energy. He's aware that a lot of this community counts on him and other members of the James family for their livelihoods—and most of those Chamber members know it, too.”

Emily furrowed her brow. “How do you mean?”

“You know what Bering does for a living, right?”

“Yes, but suddenly I'm getting the sense that maybe I didn't realize the, uh, scope of his business?”

“I don't know how many employees he has. But he has to have at least ten other guides besides himself in the summer and fall. And he has employees to haul and maintain equipment. He has a secretary who makes travel arrangements. He orders supplies from the businesses in town. The outdoor store alone must get half of their business from Bering and his clients. The bed-and-breakfast and the Faraway Inn basically exist because of his business. His cousin Shay owns the inn and I don't know how many people she employs. Do you see where I'm going here? The clientele that he has are worth serious money and they have important connections. I'm talking about businesspeople and politicians, even some professional athletes, musicians and movie stars.

“They come to Rankins—sometimes with their families and friends—and they drop big bucks here. I don't know the numbers but it has to be a significant industry for this town.”

Emily was annoyed with herself. How could she have not seen this sooner? The circumstances that had impulsively brought her here were no longer a viable excuse. She prided herself on being good at her job, had even bragged to Bering about it. She hadn't done her usual meticulous homework and it was clearly catching up with her, certainly where Bering was concerned.

Laurel continued, “The James family is one of the oldest and the largest in the community. By and large, they are wealthy, educated and close-knit. They are also down-to-earth, unpretentious and extremely generous—with their time and money. As I'm sure you can imagine, all of these things add up to make them very popular around here.”

Emily thought fast. She may be slightly behind the curve, but it wasn't anything she hadn't faced before. A healthy industry wasn't anything compared to the millions that Cam-Field would bring into this community. In her experience, money talked, and as long as folks were willing to compromise, it usually spoke the loudest.

“I can see I've caught you off guard. So, why don't you give me an interview? Something personal—let the community get to know you, too?”

“Probably,” Emily answered with a slow nod. “We'll see how it goes.”

“You mean you want to wait to see how badly I'm going to skew things?” Laurel's expression took on a shrewd look as she added, “I have a master's degree in journalism from Columbia, Emily. I can assure you that I know how to be objective.”

“You know, I have to ask, what in the world are you doing
here
in Rankins, Alaska?”