Debbie Macomber - Alaska Home

“You surprise me,” Tracy said out of the blue.

“I do?” Mariah asked. “How?”

Tracy grinned sheepishly. “Well, when your parents first contacted me, they described you as this delicate hothouse flower who didn’t have a clue what she was letting herself in for.”

“That’s how they see me.” It saddened Mariah to admit that. Her family’s attitude was the very reason she’d left Seattle. They considered her helpless and inept, and if she’d stayed much longer she might have come to believe it herself.

“You really love it in Hard Luck, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes. This has been the most...” Mariah hesitated, unsure how to explain what her year in the Arctic community had been like. She felt proud of her own ability to survive in difficult surroundings, especially during the winter when the temperature dropped to forty below. True, there were times she’d been lonely and confused. Depressed. At other times she’d felt a new confidence, a newly developed sense of self that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. After a year in the Arctic, she knew she was capable of handling any situation. She’d learned to trust her own judgment and to take pride in her achievements.

But her nonrelationship with Christian continued to baffle her, although her attraction to him grew more potent with each passing month. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to share her feelings. But then again, perhaps he did... The kiss gave her hope.

“When you told me you’d decided to stay in Hard Luck, I admired you,” Tracy said with a thoughtful look. “I admired you for taking charge of your life and for not being afraid to do something risky.”

Mariah squirmed under her praise. “It’s no more than the other women have done—Abbey and Karen and Lanni. Bethany Ross and Sally Henderson.”

“You’re good friends with them, aren’t you?”

“It’s like they’re part of my family,” Mariah said. But better. The women who’d come to Hard Luck were a close-knit group, out of necessity but also genuine liking. They relied on and supported each other in every possible way. In the dead of winter, when sunlight disappeared and spirits fell, it was the women who brought joy and laughter to the community. She’d known these women for only a year, but her friendships with them were closer now than the friendships she’d left behind.

“What do you miss most?” Tracy asked next.

That question took some consideration. She wouldn’t lie; there were certainly aspects of city life that she yearned for, services and stores and all kinds of things that weren’t available in Hard Luck.

Things like first-run movies, her favorite junk food, shopping malls... But how much did any of that really matter? “What do I miss most?” Mariah repeated slowly. “I’m thinking, Trace...”

“That, my friend, is answer enough,” the attorney said. She sounded almost wistful.

* * *

Christian set aside the murder mystery he was reading and forcefully expelled his breath. He couldn’t seem to concentrate, although the author was one of his favorites.

Tomorrow evening, Mariah would be back, and frankly he dreaded her return. Despite his warning, he was sure she’d be foolish enough to put some stock in that stupid kiss. He tried to put her out of his mind, something he’d been struggling to do all week.

Mariah wasn’t the only woman who’d been on his mind lately. Funny that he’d be thinking of Allison Reynolds now. But again and again he found himself comparing his current secretary to the one who got away.

Every time the statuesque blonde drifted into his thoughts, Christian felt his heart work like a blacksmith’s bellows.

In the year since she’d gone home to Seattle, he’d never called. More fool he. When they first met, they’d dated—nothing serious, just a couple of dinners while he’d been in Seattle conducting business and setting up job interviews. He remembered those evenings with Allison in a haze of pleasure.

He was due to go back to the Northwest, strictly for business purposes, anytime now. He’d been discussing the trip with Sawyer just that morning. Generally they took turns going to Seattle to arrange for supplies, but with Abbey pregnant and the kids getting ready to head back to school, Sawyer wasn’t eager to leave Hard Luck. Christian was.

For one thing, he’d have a chance to visit his mother, who lived in Vancouver, British Columbia. He had a special bond with Ellen. While Charles and Sawyer were more like their father in looks and temperament, Christian had always been closer to his mother.

As a boy, he’d spent eighteen months with her in England. The years before the separation had been difficult for his parents. Christian, only ten at the time, hadn’t understood what was happening to his family.

All he knew was that his mother was desperately unhappy. More than once he’d found her weeping, and in his own way had attempted to comfort her. When she told him she was leaving Alaska, Christian had known immediately that he should go with her. His mother would need him, he thought—and she had.

Saying goodbye to his father and brothers was hard, and he’d missed them far more than he’d dreamed possible. In the beginning, he’d enjoyed living in England, but that hadn’t lasted long. He missed Alaska. He missed his home, his brothers and the life he’d always known, and he suspected his mother did, as well.

After a year and a half, they’d flown back to Hard Luck, and for a time, a very brief time, they’d been a family again, and happy.

Christian had never fully understood what had shattered that fragile joy, but he realized Catherine Fletcher was somehow responsible. She was gone now and his father was, too. A few years ago Ellen had remarried; her second husband was a wonderful man who shared her passion for literature. She’d moved to his home in British Columbia.

Ellen had come to Hard Luck twice in the past year. Nevertheless, Christian intended to visit her and her husband, Robert, in Vancouver. He knew she was delighted with her new grandchildren, and if he could coordinate the flights, he might be able to bring Scott and Susan with him. A nice way to end their summer vacation. And Abbey and Sawyer could have a second honeymoon.

While he was in Seattle, Christian decided, he’d look up Allison Reynolds. The thought cheered him. Yes, that was what he’d do. He’d give Allison a call and they’d go out on the town.

Content, Christian picked up the novel and started reading again. Then it struck him. It seemed unfair—and a bit unrealistic—to arrive in Seattle unannounced and expect Allison to be free.

Maybe he should call her now. Besides, talking to a woman who was as close to perfect as any human had a right to be would lift his spirits.

In another moment, he’d dug out her phone number.

The phone rang three times. “Hello.”

It was Allison. She sounded...silky. Yes, that was the word for her voice—silky. Soft and a little breathless. A man could get light-headed just listening to her.

“Allison, this is Christian O’Halloran.”

“Christian!” Her elevated voice said she was pleased to hear from him. “Don’t tell me you’re in Seattle? Why, I was thinking about you the other day.”

Forget light-headed, he was almost ecstatic. “You were?” Life was good. Very good.

“Are you in town?” Her voice was definitely silky.

“No, but I will be.”

“When?”

He couldn’t believe how eager she sounded. “I’m not sure yet. I, uh, thought I’d arrange my schedule around yours. Are you going to be available this month?”

“I’m available any time you want.” Her voice dipped in a playful whisper. Christian’s chest tightened. This was one way to get Mariah out of his mind.