Kate Hoffmann - Dodging Cupid's Arrow

He steered the Cub out onto the runway and increased the throttle. The plane took off in an instant, lifting up into the air before he'd covered half the airstrip. Joe closed his eyes as he climbed into the sky, the whine of the plane's ascent like a balm to his nerves.

He banked north, the wilderness spreading out in front of him. He could lose himself in Alaska as easily as he could lose himself anywhere else. And if he flew far enough and high enough and long enough, maybe then he'd forget her.

Perrie stared at her computer screen, watching the cursor blink until her eyes began to cross. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. Maybe she should have stayed at home instead of coming in to the office. She'd left Alaska at sunrise and it was now nearly eight in the evening. But she'd been away for so long. The sooner she got back into her daily routine, the sooner she could put the last two weeks behind her.

Besides, she had to finish the brides story. It hung over her like a dark cloud, filled with flashes of memory and rumblings of regret. She couldn't think of her time in Muleshoe without thinking of him-and all they'd shared. And the brides story was part of that.

Him. Maybe if she didn't call him by name, he wouldn't seem so real. Perhaps she could learn to look at Joe Brennan as nothing more than a brief passage in her life, a vague remembrance, part of a story she'd soon put to bed.

But no matter how hard she tried, Joe refused to become anything less man a living, breathing man who intruded on her thoughts again and again. The memories were so vivid and so alive that she could still feel his skin beneath her palms, still taste his mouth against hers, still hear his soft moans in her-

"Kincaid! You're back."

Blinking hard, Perrie snapped herself out of the daydream, almost thankful for the distraction. She straightened in her chair, mentally steeling herself for one of Milt Freeman's rants. Her editor would not be happy to see her, but he'd have to deal with it. There was no way she'd let him send her back to Alaska. She was here and she planned to stay.

Perrie turned to smile at him, but to her surprise, he seemed genuinely happy to see her. Where was the man who demanded that she be banished to the wilderness? Where was the man so set on protecting her? "I am back, Milt."

He patted her on the shoulder. "Ah, Kincaid. I've missed you. I thought you'd be back sooner."

"Well, I would have. But I was stuck in Muleshoe, thanks to you. I tried to leave. Unfortunately, your pal Joe Brennan made sure there was no way out of town."

"Good man, that Brennan. I knew I could trust him with the job."

"He got the job done, all right," she said.

"When I called the other day, Joe's partner said you two were out. So, you and Brennan got along?"

"Yeah, we got along." The last person she wanted to blather on about was Brennan. It was bad enough that her thoughts were filled with him. She didn't need Milt bringing his name up in conversation every-Perrie frowned. "You called the lodge?"

"Yeah. Evening before last. The FBI arrested Riordan and Dearborn. Case against them is solid. I thought you'd be here yesterday so we could get your piece in the Monday morning edition. I had to have Landers write the initial story. By the way, where is all your research? I went through your-"

"They got Riordan and Dearborn? But how could they? I took all my evidence with me."

"They're the FBI, Kincaid. They specialize in catching crooks and they had all kinds of evidence of their own. They've been on to Dearborn longer than you have. And once you were safely out of the way, they could finally do their job."

Perrie frowned. "If you hadn't sent me to Muleshoe, I would have broken that story. I was…" She paused. "You called the lodge on Saturday evening?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

"What exactly did you tell them?"

"I said it was all right for you to come back. O'Neill said he'd let Brennan or you know right away. I figured you'd have Brennan fly you out the minute you heard. So where the hell were you? And when can I have your story?"

Perrie's mind raced. Joe must have known it was all right for her to go home to Seattle. After they'd returned from the Muleshoe Games, he had stopped at the lodge. Had Tanner given him the message then? And if he had, why hadn't Joe passed it along to her?

A single thought raced through her mind. Had he wanted her to stay? Perrie buried her face in her hands and rubbed her tired eyes again, trying to make some sense of the situation.

Since she'd left Alaska, something had been niggling at her brain, but she hadn't been able to put it into words. Now it suddenly became clear. He hadn't told her that she could leave. And when she had left, he hadn't even tried to stop her. In fact, he'd almost opened the door and let her go. He'd known it was all right for her to return; he'd known since they'd slept together the night before.

"He just wanted to have sex!" she cried, not realizing until too late that she'd spoken out loud.

"Who wanted to have sex?"

Perrie shook her head and waved distractedly at Milt. Brennan had kept the news from her deliberately. She frowned. But then, she'd been the one to show up at his door. Had she stayed in her own room, they never would have made love that night at the resort.

Love . The word rang in Perrie's head. He had said the words while she had pretended to be asleep. I love you, Perrie, and I know you love me . At the time, she'd brushed them off, thinking mat they were empty of meaning outside the bedroom.

But what if Brennan was speaking from his heart? What if he truly loved her? "But if he loved me, why did he let me leave?" she said.

"Kincaid, what the hell are you mumbling about?"

Perrie glanced up at Milt, then shook her head and groaned. "I'm so confused. And I think I may have made a big mistake."

"On the Riordan story?"

"Oh, to hell with the Riordan story, Milt. I'm talking about me and Joe. I just walked out on him. When, all the while, he believed I would want to stay."

"Stay where?"

"In Alaska."

Milt stared at her, head cocked, as if she'd completely lost her mind. Then he patted her on the shoulder again. "By the way, I showed your wolf story around. Great piece of work. In fact, one of the syndicates got hold of it and called me. Wanted to pay big bucks for more. I told him you didn't live in Alaska and there wouldn't be more."

"I could live in Alaska," Perrie said, the notion not nearly as ridiculous as it once seemed.

"No, you couldn't," Milt replied. "You work in Seattle."

"I wouldn't have to work in Seattle. I could work in Muleshoe. I could call that syndicator and sell my stories to him. I have a lot more. And I could string for the Fairbanks or Anchorage paper. Or I could start my own paper. There's this old newspaper office above Paddy Doyle's tavern. I mean, I'd have to upgrade the equipment, get a computer, maybe even a new press. And there's not much circulation. But Joe makes flights into the bush all the time. I bet those families would be glad to get some local news. And running a weekly would be-"

"Kincaid! Stop! You're talking like a crazy woman. You can't live in Alaska."

A slow smile grew on Perrie's lips. "Yes, I can. I can live wherever I want."

"But what about your career?"

"I'm a writer, Milt. I can write anywhere, including Muleshoe, Alaska."

"I think you're overtired, Kincaid. Jet-lagged. Maybe you've been in the wilderness too long. It's my fault. I made a mistake sending you there. Go home. Get some rest You can write the Riordan story tomorrow."

Perrie reached down beneath the desk and grabbed the strap of her shoulder bag, then yanked it out. "No, Milt," she said, placing the bag in his arms. "You can write the Riordan story. Here are all my notes and research and evidence."