Janet Tronstad - Alaskan Sweethearts

“We best get back inside.” Hunter put his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the door. “No point in standing out here and drowning in the rain.”

She looked up at him, trying to regain her composure. “No one drowns in the rain.”

He might know she’d been crying, but she wasn’t sure. The politeness she saw in his eyes made her suspect, though—as if he was being careful not to intrude on her emotions just as he’d been careful not to reveal all his emotions when they’d talked.

“Turkeys do,” Hunter said blandly as he opened the door and smiled down at her. “Stupidest bird you ever want to meet. They open their mouths when it rains and look up at the sky until they literally drown.”

It wasn’t until Scarlett stepped over the threshold into the café that she realized she was no better than a turkey. Her new silk suit would be ruined unless she got it all wet soon. The only way to do that was to take it off and put it in water or to keep it on and go back out into the rain. If she didn’t, then the hundreds of rain spots would dry and the material would never be evenly colored again.

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