Vicki Thompson: Werewolf in Alaska

Ted beamed at her when she pushed open the screen door. He had a great smile, a fringe of gray hair that he kept threatening to shave off, and thick glasses. He was going soft in the middle and didn’t seem to care, especially after his wife ran off with a life insurance salesman from Spokane. Ted seemed fine living alone and tending the store, but he’d canceled the life policy he’d bought from the guy.

Rachel returned his smile. “I noticed the parking lot was empty, so I thought I’d chance it.”

“I figured you must be running low on coffee and eggs.”

“And candy bars.” She’d discovered that nothing solved a creative problem like dark chocolate. “Lionel refuses to buy them for me.”

Ted laughed. “I noticed. You could threaten to fire him for that.”

“I couldn’t, either.” The thought of firing Lionel, the most earnest nineteen-year-old she’d ever met, made her stomach hurt. “He honestly believes sugar is evil and I should give it up for my own good. But I don’t intend to.”

“Just got a shipment yesterday.”

“Great.” Picking up a basket, she started toward the grocery aisle.

“Jake Hunter came in this morning.”

“Oh?” As she paused and turned back toward the counter, she hoped she wasn’t blushing.

Hearing Jake’s name conjured up a potent image of his extremely ripped and completely naked body right before he’d plunged into the lake the previous night, and the night before that, and every night since he’d come home. He had a predictable routine that included skinny-dipping around nine p.m. Once she’d identified the pattern, she’d organized her work schedule around it.

She justified her ogling as harmless entertainment for a thirty-two-year-old woman who wasn’t getting any. Jake’s was the only ogle-worthy male body in her world these days. Lionel was too young and Ted was a sweetie but not exactly hot stuff. A girl had to have some fun, even if it was only of the voyeuristic kind.

She’d been trying to remedy her lack of a love life, but the logistics were tricky. She didn’t want a guy who was attracted to her money and fame, and she was protective of her privacy. Her girlfriends in Fairbanks had talked her into signing up with an online dating site so she could preview potential dates without giving her true identity or exact location.

Unfortunately she hadn’t found anyone on those sites who merited a coffee date, let alone a lifetime commitment. She was on the verge of giving up that effort but hadn’t devised an alternative plan. Oh, well. She loved her work, and finding time for a relationship would be difficult, anyway.

Of course, if Jake Hunter came calling, she might sing a different tune. But he obviously didn’t want to interact with her at all. He hadn’t even responded to the note she’d sent three years ago. It seemed for now she’d have to be content with her binoculars and her fantasies.

Ted rubbed the top of his bald head, which he did whenever he was uncomfortable with the conversation. “I thought I should tell you . . . he wants to give me the carving he bought.”

“Give it to you?” She was thoroughly insulted. And hurt. All this time she’d felt some satisfaction that Jake at least liked her work even if he didn’t much like her. “Does he realize that it’s worth a lot?”

“Guess so. He told me I could sell it and take a cruise.”

“A very long cruise.” The more Rachel thought about it, the more irritated she became. Jake had the distinction of owning her first-ever wolf carving. Knowing that he was trying to dump it and wasn’t even interested in making money on the deal galled her. “Why doesn’t he sell it himself?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he’s worried about the notoriety of owning that first piece, he could sell it through a third party.”

“I offered to handle that for him, or find someone else who would. He told me to do whatever I wanted with it because he didn’t need any money out of the deal. I suppose he doesn’t, but still, it’s strange.”

More like a stab to the heart, but Rachel didn’t want to let on how much it bothered her. He’d rejected her gesture of friendship three years ago, and now he was rejecting her work. He might be gorgeous, but she would have to stop ogling him every night, because he was turning out to be a cold bastard.

Unless there was more to the story. She gazed at Ted. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Did you save his life years ago and you became blood brothers? Does he owe you his life and giving you the carving is his way of settling the score?”

Ted laughed. “That’s a creative thought, Rachel, but I’m afraid that’s not the answer. We’ve had a friendly relationship, but I wouldn’t say we’re close. I pick up his mail for him whenever he leaves town, but Jake’s a hard guy to get to know. He’s lived in Polecat for around ten years, but I couldn’t tell you much about him except he gets a lot of outdoor magazines.”

“And now he’s ready to give away a valuable piece of art rather than risk selling it himself . . .” Rachel brightened. “I’ll bet he’s in the witness protection program!”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Okay, he could be an international spy, or a drug runner, or a hit man for the mob, or—”

“Whoa, there, Nellie. Don’t go letting your imagination get completely out of control. Jake’s your average Alaskan backcountry character, maybe somewhat quirky, maybe somewhat antisocial, but with a good heart. Little towns like Polecat draw people who don’t care for country clubs and cocktail parties. You know that.”

“I do.” Rachel smiled a little sheepishly. “It’s why I’m here, after all. When I’m working, I can be as antisocial as anybody.”

“And God help the person who comes between you and your chocolate.”

“Exactly. Lionel’s lucky he’s so adorable, or he’d be toast.” She sighed. “Okay, you’ve convinced me that Jake is no more weird than the rest of us, but it’s damned irritating that he wants to dump my carving. I have to admit it feels like a slap in the face.”

“I knew it would, but I had to tell you. If he shows up with the carving this afternoon like he promised, I didn’t want it to come as a surprise to you that I have it.”

“I appreciate that.”

“In fact, I’ll call you if he brings it over, because I want you to sell it instead of me.”

She nodded. “I can do that for you, Ted. I have more contacts and can get you a really good price.” She might even decide to buy it herself and keep it as a reminder of her first sale. No, that wouldn’t work, because it would also remind her of her first customer, Jake the Jerk.

“I don’t want the money, either.”

“What the hell? Why doesn’t anybody want the money? Is this carving cursed in some way I don’t know about?”

“No, of course not. But it doesn’t seem fair that I should profit from something I didn’t make in the first place. You should have the money.”

“But he’s giving it to you, not me.”

“Well, he could hardly give it back to you, now, could he? That would be rude.”

And it would require him to actually talk to her, unless he left it on her doorstep like a piece of unwanted trash. “Ted, he’s already being rude. Surely he realizes that I’ll find out what he did with it. Obviously he doesn’t care.”

“Would you rather he’d pitched it into the fireplace and hadn’t bothered to contact either of us?”

Her heart gave a quick thump of alarm. “Oh, God, do you think he would do that? Is he so eager to get rid of it?”

Ted’s gaze gentled behind his glasses. “Apparently he doesn’t want it anymore, Rachel. People change. Their tastes change. Maybe he’s dating someone who doesn’t care for it.”