URSULA CRADLED THE phone against her shoulder and reached for a pencil. “Yes, your room is ready and I can be here at two for early check-in.” The doorbell rang as Ursula was finishing up her conversation. She finished her note about the time before leaving the kitchen. “No problem at all. See you then. Goodbye.”
She hung up the phone and hurried toward the door, but before she got there, it opened. A young man took one step inside. “Hello? Is this the Forget-me-not Bed and Breakfast Inn?”
Since that’s what it said on the door and the sign at the highway, Ursula didn’t see where there was much room for doubt, but she gave him her best hostess smile. “Yes, it is. Are you looking for a room?”
Hmm. Not her usual winter tourist. He wore a light coat over suit pants and loafers, the kind with thin leather soles that turned into ice skates on snow. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the circles under his eyes hinted at an overnight flight. His left hand clasped a battered leather satchel.
“No. I wanted to ask about someone who may have stayed here in the past couple of months.”
“And you are?”
“Irwin Grimes, with the National Bugler. If I could just check your registration records—”
“I don’t give out private information about my guests.”
He pulled something out of his satchel and continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m looking for R.D. Macleod. He may have registered under another name. This is his picture.” He thrust a five-by-seven headshot of Mac toward her, with a folded bill under his thumb. It looked like a fifty.
Ursula’s first instinct was to throw the reporter out on his ear, but it wouldn’t take him long to find Mac in a town the size of Seward. All he had to do was show that photo at the grocery or gas station and somebody would remember. Without reaching for the picture, she pretended to study it. “He does look familiar. Why, who is he? A criminal?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m just following up on a story.” He flashed her a conspiratorial smile. “It’s confidential. I’m sure you understand.”
Ursula nodded as though he’d actually told her something. “I think I do remember him. He didn’t stay here, though. Didn’t like the rooms. Kind of snooty, if you ask me. I sent him over to the Caribou B&B just up the road. Don’t know if he stayed there or not.”
“Thanks.” He quickly withdrew the photo and the money. Ursula resisted the urge to laugh. “This way?”
“Yes. Second driveway on the left. You’ll see the sign.”
He was out the door like a hound that’d caught a scent. Ursula peered out the window to watch him get into a black rental car while she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Marge’s number.
Marge answered on the first ring. “Good morning. What’s this I hear about you and Rory accompanying our novelist neighbor to the Cabin Fever Festival?”
Marge was a wonder, but Ursula didn’t have time to play the who-told-you game. “So you’ve figured out who he is.”
“Of course. Saw him filling that Mercedes at the Gas-n-go, and recognized him from the news. Penny made me promise not to tell, though.” One thing about Marge. Despite her propensity for gossip, if she promised to keep a secret, nobody was prying it out of her.
“Good, because a reporter’s about to turn into your driveway and he’s looking for Mac.”
“Mac, hmm? You’re on a first-name basis?”
Ursula ignored the question. “He moved to Alaska to get away from reporters. I have an idea on how to get rid of this one, but I’ll need your help.”
“What’s the plan?”
Quickly, Ursula spelled out what she had in mind. Marge had a couple of suggestions. “You’ve got to work Terry at Tattered Tales into this somehow. You know how he loves a good caper story.”
“I’ll see what I can do. You know your part?”
“Sure. Delay as long as possible, and then send him to Penny. He just pulled up in front.”
“Okay, then. Good luck. And thanks, Marge.”
“Anytime.”
Okay. Marge was on the case. Her next call was to Penny. It helped that Penny already knew Mac’s story. Still, she hesitated. “You want me to lie to this reporter?”
“Well...yes.” Maybe Penny wasn’t the best choice for this assignment. For a tourist information volunteer, Penny was a stickler for the truth. Tourists in Seward knew exactly how many rainy days to expect in August.
“I suppose it doesn’t have to be a lie,” Penny mused for a moment. “If I call Mac now and tell him what’s going on, I can honestly say I recommended he get in touch with Bill about his remote cabin. I don’t suppose I’m under any obligation to tell the reporter when I recommended it.”
“There you go.” Ursula breathed a sigh of relief.
“Besides, it would give Barb a chance to make a little money. She’s considering offering mushing tours. Do you think this reporter would buy it if I recommend he hire her to take him to the cabin, or would he realize a snow machine would be faster?”
“Play it by ear, but I suspect he’ll buy whatever you’re selling. Do them both a favor, though, and get him outfitted in better clothes first. Barb wouldn’t want her first customer frozen solid.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to Barb if you’ll call Bill.”
Bill was onboard, always happy for a chance to put one over on an “outsider.” After almost forty years in Alaska, the last six in Seward, Ursula had earned “insider” status with him, but only because Betty and Penny had vouched for her.
“I’ll call Terry,” Ursula told Bill. “He can dig up a used guidebook and a flyer for one of the lodges on Kodiak. I have a guest coming, so I can’t leave right now, but I’ll ask Barb to pick it up at the store. Then she can hide it on her sled and plant it in your cabin for the reporter to find.”
“Tell her to circle the phone number on the flyer in case this reporter’s not so bright,” Bill suggested. “On second thought, I’ll get the book from Terry. I’ve got skis on the plane. Once Barb’s got that reporter on her sled, I’ll hop over and leave the book on the kitchen table for them to find.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”
“I need to check it out, anyway, make sure no critters have moved in. My brother-in-law wants to use the cabin next week. I’ll see about leaving a few more clues around the place. What shoe size does this writer fella wear?”
Somewhere along the way, Ursula lost all control. She just had to trust her friends and neighbors could pull this off. Once she’d checked in her guests, who didn’t arrive at two as promised but closer to three thirty, she called for an update. Penny verified that the reporter was riding in the basket of Barb’s dogsled on a snipe hunt and Bill had taken off in his plane to ready his cabin.
She looked up the National Bugler. It seemed to be an online gossip column, mostly centering on innuendo and unflattering photos of celebrities. Their archives showed several blaring headlines speculating about the Andi Macleod case. Ursula felt justified in thwarting their reporter.
The next day, Ursula had just sent her guests out for a trip to Seward when Barb herself called with the good news. “It worked like a charm. Between that book on the table beside the empty pickle jar and the tracks Bill left, the guy was convinced he was hot on the trail. We made it back to town about midmorning, and before I even got the dogs stopped, he was on his phone scheduling an air taxi from Anchorage to Kodiak.”
“Good. I’ve talked to the innkeeper there.”
Barb giggled. “Poor guy. He did seem to enjoy mushing, though. Maybe he’ll write about that instead.”
“And you’ll be famous,” Ursula predicted.
Several more people checked in with Ursula throughout the morning, congratulating themselves and each other on a job well done. It was early afternoon when Mac appeared on her doorstep, grinning. “Penny tells me it’s safe to come out of hiding.” Beside him, Blossom wagged her tail as though she thought it a fine joke.
Ursula ushered them in.
“I can’t believe you pulled this off.” Mac hung his coat on a hook by the door. “So far, I’ve only gotten hints. Tell me the details of this devious and brilliant plan of yours.”
She laughed. “It wasn’t that brilliant. When the reporter stopped by asking for you, I sent him to Marge, at the Caribou. She told him you’d talked to Penny at the Tourist Information Office.”
“Which is why I got the call from Penny telling me about a cabin owned by someone named Bill.”
“Right. Bill has a remote cabin about fifteen miles in. On Penny’s recommendation, the reporter hired Barb, a local musher, to take him to the cabin. Meanwhile, Bill flew out and planted a guidebook about Kodiak Island, bookmarked by a brochure with the name of a lodge there. Also, an empty pickle jar. According to Terry, the owner of the used book store, you’re well-known for your love of pickles.”
Mac chuckled. “I happened to mention in some interview I was fond of baby dills. Next thing I know, people from all over the world were sending me jars of their favorite pickles. I was even asked to judge the pickles at the Oklahoma State Fair. Everybody seems to think I spend all day eating pickles.”
“Well it worked. Barb says he swallowed it hook, line and sinker. The story, not the pickles, although he got excited when he saw the jar. He scheduled a flight out of Anchorage and he’s on his way to Kodiak Island.”
“And what happens when I’m not there?”
“The innkeeper is a friend of mine. He’s going to say a guest of your general description was tired of winter and talking about going to Seattle or possibly Hawaii. Which is true, except the guest happened to be an old friend of his from Anchorage.”
“I can’t believe they went to so much trouble to help me out.”
“It wasn’t completely altruistic. Barb got paid for mushing him to the cabin. She’d been playing with the idea of doing tours and so this was a trial run for her. She says it went great. Nate at the outfitters sold him bunny boots and arctic gear. And Bill has sprained his arm patting himself on the back about his success in setting up the cabin.”
“I suppose the only drawback is that now they all know I’m here.”
“Oh, they already knew. Terry says he spotted you buying groceries weeks ago. Word got around. It’s just that Alaskans figure if you want privacy, they’ll leave you alone.”
He chuckled. “All but you, I guess.”
Ursula shrugged. “I couldn’t just leave that eagle stuck in the fence.”
He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on her face. “No, if you see trouble, you just can’t help wading in.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Some magnetic-like force swayed her forward and she found herself wrapped in his arms. The scent of sawdust clung to the soft flannel of his shirt. She had a fleeting thought that she’d sworn not to let this happen again just before his mouth met hers. Then all thoughts fled. Warmth crept through her body, sweet and comforting.
When he finally broke the kiss, she felt disoriented, as though hours might have passed without her noticing. She should put an end to this. And yet, she couldn’t seem to look away, much less step out of his arms.
Blossom finally broke the spell. She squeezed between them, strategically placing her head under Ursula’s hand. Ursula laughed and scratched her ears. “The school bus will be here anytime now. Rory will be happy to see you.” She looked up at Mac. “Both of you.”
“How is Rory?”
“Good, I think. She’s been eager to go to school lately. Regular teacher conferences are this week, so I’ll find out tomorrow if she’s doing better in class.”
“She was having trouble in class?”
“Sometimes. Her teacher said she’d draw pictures instead of working on her assignment.”
“What kind of pictures?”
Ursula stopped petting Blossom and thought about it. “That’s a good question. I don’t know. I’ll ask tomorrow.”
Footsteps rushing across the porch alerted them to Rory’s arrival. Blossom broke away to meet her at the door. Rory squealed. “Blossom. Hi.”
Ursula took her coat and backpack. “How was school today?”
“Good. And guess what? Maddy Wilson is having a birthday party in two weeks and she’s gonna invite me.”
“That’s great.”
“Hi, Mac.” Rory didn’t seem as surprised to see him as she was the dog. “Did you see the northern lights last night?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“It’s been a fine year for it,” Ursula said. “And this weekend is supposed to be high activity.”
“They were really bright last night,” Rory said. “Their other name is Aurora, like me.”
“Aurora borealis. I’ve heard of them but never seen them.”
“Never?” Rory and Ursula asked in unison.
“Don’t you go outside at night?” Rory asked.
“I do to let Blossom out before bed. I guess I’ve never looked up at the right time.”
He never looked up. That pretty much summed up Mac’s existence since he’d been in Alaska. All this beauty around him, but he was so weighed down by grief and guilt, he refused to look up and recognize it unless someone forced him.
Ursula pulled out her phone and checked the long-term aurora forecast. “What have you got going this weekend?” she asked Mac.
“What?”
“Plans? Appointments? Anything?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good. Rory’s teacher conference is tomorrow. It’s supposed to be clear and cold across the state. I think we should take the train to Fairbanks Saturday and see the northern lights the way they’re supposed to be seen.”
“They’re not the same as here?”
“No. Here they’re usually low on the northern horizon. Fairbanks is farther north, so they’re more overhead. I have a friend who runs a B&B there. She’s stayed with me several times, and she keeps asking me when I’m going to let her return the favor. We can catch the train in Anchorage and fly back.”
“What about Blossom? I don’t want to leave her in a kennel.”
“My friend Catherine always fills in for me at the inn when I’m away. Blossom can stay with her here. Catherine loves dogs. Actually, you met her when you came by to bring those flowers.”
“Come on, Mac. Let’s do it. I never rode a train before,” Rory said.
He looked from one of them to the other. “Well, if Catherine is available to take care of Blossom, I guess we can go.”
“Yay!” Rory danced around the room with Blossom chasing after her. “We’re gonna ride a train to Fairbanks.”
* * *
MAC ROLLED A sweater and added it to his suitcase. Ursula had warned him to pack warm, that Fairbanks was considerably colder than Anchorage. He was adding wool socks when his phone rang. Chandler, from the detective agency.
“This is Mac.”
Chandler didn’t waste time. “I may have a lead.”
“What?”
“I’ve been talking to the neighbors from where he lived growing up. Most moved in after Thaine left, but one remembered he had a half-sister he used to visit and where her family lived. It’s a small town about forty miles out of Tulsa. Anyway, I chased it down and found a teacher there who kept in touch with the sister. She knows where she lives, way out in the boonies. So I’m on my way to see what she knows, if anything.”
“Good. Keep in touch.”
“I will.”
Mac set down the phone and took a deep breath. This might be it. The police hadn’t been able to find the sister at her last known address. It was quite possible her brother was hiding out with her. It was hard to believe anyone would hide a murderer, but maybe he’d convinced her he was innocent. He seemed to be quite good at hiding his true nature.
Mac should cancel this trip to Fairbanks. If they did locate Andi’s murderer, they might need him to fly down and...what? Testify? It would be months or years before it came to trial. They had enough evidence to make the arrest.
Still, he felt as though he was letting Andi down. Again. Going off for a fun weekend when her killer was still on the loose. What kind of a father was he?
Blossom padded into his bedroom from wherever she’d been napping and dropped a ball. Nothing subtle about her. “You want to go outside and play?” The dog wagged her tail and nudged the ball closer to his foot. “You need Rory here. She’d play with you all day.”
Rory would be disappointed if he didn’t go with them to Fairbanks. He checked his watch. She and Ursula would be at the teacher’s conference right now. He hoped they were getting good news. Rory was such a great kid. She deserved a break.
Maybe he deserved a break, as well. As Ursula said, guilt and blame couldn’t change the past. He owed it to Andi to catch her killer, but that wouldn’t bring her back. Spending a weekend in Fairbanks with an energetic little girl and her godmother might be the most productive thing he could do right now.
* * *
RORY COULDN’T HIDE her excitement. If Ursula hadn’t been holding tight to her hand, she might have bounced right off the rail platform. “Are we gonna ride in this car? Will there be other kids? Do they have a bathroom?”
Ursula patiently answered each question. “Yes, this car. I don’t know. We’ll have to see who else is in our car when we board the train. Yes, there are bathrooms on the train.”
“Where do we eat? Do they know I don’t like lima beans?”
Mac laid a hand on her head. “I’m sure they’ll have something to eat that doesn’t involve lima beans. Here, I have something for you.” He pulled a paper sack from his pocket.
“What is it?” Rory pulled the sack open.
“A disposable camera. So you can take your own pictures of the trip.”
“Cool.” She gave a little eye roll in Ursula’s direction. “Since I don’t have a cell phone.” Mac knew from experience those eye rolls would become ever more frequent in the next decade.
Rory pointed the camera in their direction. “How do I take a picture?”
“Just look through that little window, and once you like what you see, press the button.”
A woman who had been watching Rory stepped closer. “Would you like me to take it so you can be in the picture with your family?”
“Yeah!” Rory handed her the camera and skipped over to Ursula and Mac.
Family. Mac almost corrected the woman, but thought better of it. It didn’t matter what this woman thought. She couldn’t know he’d lost his family, that other than a scattering of distant cousins, he was alone. Rory didn’t seem to mind.
“Closer,” the woman ordered. Mac put an arm around Ursula and a hand on Rory’s shoulder to anchor her in front of them. The woman nodded. “Now, act like you like each other.”
Ursula laughed, and Mac turned toward the sound. Rory looked up, her eyes sparkling. The woman snapped the photo.
“Let’s do silly faces now,” Rory suggested.
“You might want to save your pictures,” Mac said. “There are only twenty-seven exposures on that camera.”
She frowned at him. “Expo...?”
“Exposures. Pictures. You can only fit so many on a roll of film.”
The woman returned the camera to Rory. After a nudge from Ursula, Rory thanked her and turned the camera over to examine the back. “Where’s the picture?”
“On the film,” Mac explained. “You can’t see it yet. When you finish taking all the pictures, I’ll send it to the developer and they’ll print paper photos for you.”
Rory didn’t look convinced. “You can’t see it at all?”
“Not until it’s developed. It’s old school.” He squatted down beside her. “It’s sort of like a secret code. The light goes through the lens, here, and leaves an imprint on the film, which looks like a long strip of plastic. The film processer has to expose the film to certain chemicals, kind of like getting the key to the code. Once the film is developed, the processer shines a light through it onto special paper, and it makes a picture.”
“Oh, okay.” Rory seemed to buy into the secret code scenario.
“Now, since you took a picture, you need to wind the film. Turn this knob until it stops, so the next section of film will be ready when you want to take another picture.”
Rory wound the film, fascinated by the new toy. By the time she had the camera set, the train was boarding. Other than a couple with a baby, Rory was the only child in their car, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She followed Ursula onto the train and plunked down in the seat beside her. Their car was about half full. Mac settled into his seat across the row, with an empty seat next to him. The train started. Rory gazed out the window as the city of Anchorage whizzed by outside. Her fascination lasted for about five minutes before she was digging in her backpack.
“Would you like to sit by the window so you can see better?” Ursula offered.
“No.” Rory pulled a deck of cards from her pack. “I want to play concentration with Mac.”
She’d already beaten him twice by the time the sky had lightened enough to see out the windows. They were out in the wilds now. Everything seemed stripped of color—the deep snow blanketing the meadows, the pale bark of birch trunks against the dark gray of spruce in the background, the silvery sky along the eastern horizon. As they rounded a curve, Mac glimpsed the front of the train, a splash of blue across a stunning white scene.
Stark. Cold. And yet there was beauty here, the lack of light and color putting the emphasis on form and shadow. Miles and miles of snow and ice surrounded them, but the train kept them warm and moved them forward. There had to be a metaphor in there someplace.
Up ahead in the car, the baby cried, and both parents jumped into action finding a bottle. Rory scrambled past Mac. “I’ll go help.”
“Rory, wait—” Ursula tried but before she could stop her, Rory was skipping up the aisle toward the baby.
Ursula scooted into the aisle seat and leaned outward to check on her, but Rory was already kneeling beside the mother’s armrest. “Hi. I’m Rory. I have a baby named Griffin.”
“That’s a nice name. This baby is Alice.”
“She’s a girl? Hi, Alice.” Rory smiled and leaned closer. The mother didn’t seem to mind having her there.
“She’s fine,” Mac whispered to Ursula. “The mom has everything under control.”
“Let me know if she needs rescuing,” Ursula whispered back. “Rory’s help can be a little overwhelming.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Mac assured her. The mom spoke to Rory and allowed her to hold the bottle. Rory seemed thrilled at the responsibility. Mac leaned closer to Ursula. “How did the teacher conference go?”
“It went well. She’s definitely doing better in school. And I did ask about the pictures she was drawing when she was supposed to be working. It turns out, she was drawing her mom and dad. She said she didn’t want to forget what they look like. We have all her family albums. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to hang a picture of Rory’s family in the kitchen, where she can see it before she leaves for school every morning. We did that yesterday when we got home.”
“Do you think it will help?”
“I hope so. Her teacher says she’s noticed a change in Rory. She seems less inwardly focused and is interacting more with the other students. She mentioned you.”
“Who did?”
“Rory. She was there for part of the conference, and she told her teacher she’d met this man who needed cheering up, and we were all going to Fairbanks for the weekend to see the northern lights.”
“So I’m Rory’s good deed.”
“I’m afraid so.”
Mac turned the idea over in his mind. He didn’t really like the idea of being someone’s project but if it helped Rory... Still. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Am I your project, as well?”
“No, Mac.” Ursula looked amused. “You’re not my project. You’re my friend.”
Before he could comment, Rory returned. “Alice is going to sleep now. She’s six months old, and she doesn’t have any teeth yet.” She’d started to climb over Ursula to the window seat when her head snapped up. “Look! A moose!”
Everyone crowded to the right side of the car to snap a photo of the young moose gnawing at the bark of a tree not far from the tracks. Rory used her new camera, although Mac doubted she would record anything but a blur in the distance. Once they were past the moose, Rory talked Mac into moving toward the window so she could sit between him and Ursula. She picked up the pack of cards, but paused before she laid them out.
“At school, the teacher’s reading us a book about a girl named Anne. She’s an orphan.”
Ursula smiled. “I remember that book. It’s a good one.”
“Yeah.” Rory looked at Mac. “Ms. Longton says an orphan is a kid whose parents died. So I asked her if I’m an orphan.”
Mac drew in a breath. Rory didn’t look upset, but it was sometimes hard to tell. Before he could decide how to respond, Ursula asked, in a matter-of-fact voice, “What did she say?”
“She said yes, but that I’m not like Anne, ’cause I have a godmother. So I still have family.”
“That’s right.” Ursula reached for her hand and squeezed it. “We’re family. You and me, and Sam, Dana and Griffin.”
“Yeah.” Rory looked at Mac again. “So, I was wondering, are you an orphan?”
“Me?” Mac’s parents had died when he was in his thirties, one shortly after the other. He was an only child. Other than a scattering of cousins, he had no family left. “I suppose I am.”
“Because your daughter died.”
“No, orphan means my parents died. But I was grown up when that happened.”
“Oh.” The tip of her tongue appeared at the corner of her mouth, which Mac had learned to recognize as a sign of deep concentration. “Then what do you call a daddy or mommy when their kid dies?”
What indeed? There were words for others left behind, for children without parents, wives without husbands, husbands without wives. But there didn’t seem to be a word for parents living without their children. Was the situation so unthinkable that English had never seen fit to invent a word for it?
Mac shook his head. “I don’t know, Rory.”
“I don’t know either,” Ursula said, “but I think they’re a mommy or daddy, still. When someone you love dies, they stay alive in your heart.”
Was she right? Mac felt he’d lost his moorings, now that he was no longer a father, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’d always be Andi’s father, as long as he kept her memory alive. There was something reassuring about that.
“Ursula, are you an orphan?” Rory asked.
“No, sweetie. My mother is still alive. She lives in a retirement home in Wyoming. I was thinking we might fly down and visit her next summer, so you can get to know her.”
“More family?”
“Yes. More family.”
Rory bounced in her seat. “Goodie. I like family.”
Ursula gave her a smile that somehow expanded to include Mac in its warmth. “Me, too.”
* * *
URSULA OPENED HER EYES, unsure what had disturbed her sleep. She squinted at the bedside clock. It was well after midnight. Across the room, tucked under a down comforter, Rory’s even breathing assured Ursula she was sleeping soundly.
And no wonder. Rory had spent the entire train ride bouncing from seat to seat for a better view of the sights, or playing cards with Mac, or chatting with the various people. By the time they’d arrived in Fairbanks, she was on a first-name basis with most of the people on the train.
Rhoda and her husband had been at the station to meet them. Just as Ursula had predicted, Rhoda was thrilled to be able to return the hospitality Ursula had shown her. After a huge dinner, they’d all settled into the hot tub and watched the northern lights put on a show overhead. Rory’s giggles formed a soundtrack to the dancing lights, but eventually she ran out of energy, and Mac had to carry her to bed.
Outside the bedroom, the floor creaked at the head of the stairs. That must have been the sound that woke Ursula in the first place. And she had a good idea who was sneaking down the stairs in the wee hours of the morning.
She slipped out of bed and pulled snow pants, a coat and a hat on over her pajamas. Carrying her boots in her hand, she tiptoed down the stairs, carefully stepping over the creaky board at the top. Sure enough, when she opened the door, she saw Mac standing alone in the clearing, gazing into the shifting sky. The lights had petered out about the time they went to bed, but they were active again, dancing across the heavens.
As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the details of the scene from the light reflecting off the snow. She slipped into her boots and went to join Mac, snow crunching under her feet as she walked. If he heard, he gave no sign. She stopped a few feet away. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He kept his gaze toward the heavens.
“Are you okay?”
He turned to look at her. “I am. For the first time in a long time. I don’t know how long it will last, but right now, right here, I’m okay.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. She’d watched him today, going out of his way to make this a special day for Rory. Patiently playing cards, pointing out the sights, listening intently when Rory explained why the girl caribou still had antlers and the boys didn’t. Mac was a good man, and he didn’t deserve the pain he’d been carrying around.
She’d seen that today, too. Occasionally he would draw into himself, almost as if he’d suffered a physical blow. When a brown-eyed young woman asked her companion about vegetarian restaurants in Fairbanks, Mac had turned his head toward her and then quickly away, and the sadness on his face almost broke Ursula’s heart.
But tonight, in the silence, he seemed to have found serenity. Maybe there was something healing about being alone in the night. “Would you like me to leave?”
“Actually, darlin’, I would like very much for you to stay.” He held out a hand. She took it and he pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her. They stood together, staring upward as the green lights played tag among the treetops and streaked across the sky, accompanied by the occasional touch of violet.
Ursula wasn’t sure how long they had been standing there, but her feet were beginning to get cold even inside her felt-lined boots. Time to go in. But before she could say anything, Mac turned toward her and tipped her chin upward. He stopped to study her face for a long moment before his lips touched hers, softly, tenderly. And Ursula forgot all about cold feet.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Ursula was awakened by Rory bouncing on her bed. “Aren’t you awake yet? We’re gonna ski and then go see the ice statues today.”
Ursula yawned. “Good morning. What time is it?”
“Seven thirty. Miss Rhoda already gave me chocolate chip pancakes and she said I should let you sleep in. But I told her you always get up earlier than me and you wouldn’t want to miss breakfast because you say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Ursula laughed. “Absolutely. Just give me a few minutes to dress and I’ll be down.” She watched Rory scurry away. Goodness. She hadn’t slept this late in years. But then she usually didn’t spend an hour in the middle of the night watching the northern lights, or another sleepless hour lying in bed thinking about a kiss.
A kiss. A simple thing, two pairs of lips making contact. No different really than a handshake, or even an accidental brush of elbows. But she’d never had a handshake that stole her breath and set her heart pounding. Three kisses was starting to become a habit. And, delightful though it might be, it was a habit Ursula needed to break.
She probably shouldn’t have suggested they spend the weekend together. It was a spontaneous idea. Rory loved the northern lights, being named after them, and Ursula had been toying with the idea of taking her to see them in Fairbanks one day, so when Mac mentioned he’d never seen them, it all seemed to fall into place. Rory liked Mac. She’d always been close to her daddy. Maybe Mac filled that need for masculine attention that Ursula couldn’t.
And spending time with Rory was good for Mac. He was different when he was with Rory—relaxed, content, happy to live in the moment. But was it wise, letting Rory get attached to Mac? He might throw it off from time to time, but that darkness was still inside him, a threat to his happiness and the happiness of everyone around him. Guilt and blame had stolen much of Ursula’s childhood, and she would do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen to Rory.
But she wouldn’t think about that right now. Today was for spending time with friends, and viewing the World Champion ice sculpture competition, and making Rory happy. So that’s what she was going to do.
* * *
RORY’S EYELIDS DROOPED as she climbed into the back seat of Ursula’s car, hugging her pillow. Mac packed their suitcases into the back of the car while Ursula tucked a blanket around her. Before they even reached the Seward Highway, Rory was asleep.
Mac turned in the passenger seat to check on her. Pale locks of hair escaped from the ponytail she wore and twisted across her cheeks. Her head nestled against the pillow, her lips pursed like a baby’s as she slept. Mac smiled. “She’s worn out.”
Ursula laughed. “It’s an illusion. Rory’s never worn out, just recharging. Tomorrow morning, she’ll be bouncing all over the house.”
“I figured she would fall asleep on the flight.”
“It was her first flight, ever. No way she was going to miss anything.”
“She did seem extraordinarily excited over a cup of ginger ale.”
“Well, I don’t let her have soda at home, so it’s a special treat.”
“It was a treat for me, too, seeing Denali in the moonlight from the air.”
“It was something, wasn’t it? And those ice sculptures were incredible. Rory loved the Mad Hatter’s tea party, and I couldn’t believe that school of tropical fish. Beautiful.”
Mac didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he watched Ursula’s profile as she drove, the lights on the overpass highlighting her cheekbones and the silver streaks in her hair. Beautiful, indeed. Yes, the talents of the ice sculptors far surpassed anything he was expecting, but he preferred the honest beauty of nature. The snowcapped splendor of Denali, the dancing colors of the northern lights and the face of a woman who laughed and loved and lived.
A beautiful woman, generous and kind. She’d been a true friend when he needed one. And holding her in his arms last night, even if only for an hour under the pulsing skies, he’d known she could be so much more. She filled a void he hadn’t even known existed.
She glanced his way and smiled. “Tired?”
“Not especially. Just thinking over the weekend. I’m content.”
“I know what you mean. I love visiting different places in Alaska, but it always feels good to know I’m on my way home.”
Home. That was the feeling Ursula created, wherever she was. That sense of comfort, of belonging. It was no wonder she was a success as an innkeeper. Even Blossom felt at home at the inn. He’d been concerned she might protest when he left her with Catherine, but the dog simply acknowledged his farewell with a thump of her tail before she curled up on her bed and went to sleep.
Rory didn’t open her eyes until Ursula had pulled into the garage. Mac went around to retrieve the bags while Ursula shook her shoulder. “Wake up, sweetie. We’re home.”
Rory yawned. “Is Blossom still here?”
“I’m sure she is.”
“I’ll go see.” Rory stumbled toward the back door.
Ursula came around and picked up her suitcase, while Mac grabbed his and Rory’s. When they stepped out of the garage, Mac noticed the green glow against the treetops in the distance. “Looks like the northern lights followed us home.”
Ursula stopped to watch. The lights were dimmer and lower on the northern horizon than they’d been in Fairbanks, but they still moved and pulsed like a living thing. “They were like this last week, too. It’s been a good winter for aurora chasers.”
“I can’t believe I never noticed.”
Ursula laid a hand on his arm. “You have to look up to see the lights.”
Mac looked up, but after a moment he was compelled to look down, to watch Ursula’s face. To remember that kiss. Somehow in his mind, the beauty of the lights and of that kiss had merged into one incredible memory. He was just about to taste her lips once again when she suddenly moved away. “Brrr. Let’s get inside.” She grabbed the bag and trotted toward the door.
He frowned. Was that just unfortunate timing, or was she deliberately avoiding his kiss? She’d seemed more than willing last night in Fairbanks, but now she seemed jumpy, unsettled. He grabbed the two other bags and followed her inside.
Rory was there, chattering to Catherine about their trip while rubbing Blossom’s belly.
Ursula turned to Catherine. “We really did have fun. Thanks so much for filling in.”
“It was no bother. I always enjoy it. Blossom and I had a good time, didn’t we?”
Blossom finally spotted Mac and rolled to her feet to run greet him. He bent to rub her ears. “She obviously enjoyed her time with you, as well. Thank you. The northern lights in Fairbanks were spectacular.”
Ursula smiled at him and Blossom. Mac wondered if he’d imagined her nervousness outside. Catherine slipped into her coat and picked up her bag. “I’m glad you had fun. I’d better head home. Rory, can I get a hug before I go?”
Rory obliged, and Catherine started out the door, but before she left, she handed Ursula a bundle of envelopes. “Almost forgot. These are from yesterday. Good night.”
“Good night. And thanks again.” Ursula flipped absently through the mail, but when she reached the third letter, she paused, frowning. She picked up a letter opener from the desk in the kitchen and slit the envelope. As she read the letter enclosed, color drained from her face.
Mac took a step closer. “What’s wrong?”
She raised her eyes to him, her face stricken, but before she could say anything, Rory came to tug on her hand. “Do I hafta take a bath tonight?”
Ursula gave her a smile, but it was obviously forced. “No, you took one this morning. Brush your teeth and get to bed. Tomorrow’s a school day. I’ll be there in just a minute to tuck you in.”
“Okay.” She yawned again. “Good night, Blossom.” Rory started toward her room, but she made a detour to come wrap her arms around Mac. “Good night, Mac. I’m glad you went.” Before he could reply, she stumbled off toward the bath.
“Good night.” Mac waited until Rory had disappeared before he turned to Ursula. “What is it?”
Without a word, Ursula handed him the paper. It appeared to be from a firm of lawyers in Colorado. Mac skimmed the letter. Then he read it again, more carefully. When he looked at Ursula, she swallowed.
“Sit down,” he suggested. “Let’s talk about this.”
Ursula sank into one of the kitchen chairs. “What’s there to talk about? They want to take her away.”
“Not necessarily.” Mac sat in the chair beside hers and laid a hand on her arm. “It just says they want to discuss custody. Maybe they want visitation.”
Ursula shook her head. “They want control. I should have known it was all too easy.”
“If they planned to dispute the will, why would they have waited? Why not act immediately?”
“I don’t know.” She sat up straighter. “But I do know they’re not going to take her. Coby and Kendall trusted me to take care of their daughter. I’m not going to let them down.”
“Kendall was a skilled and articulate woman. Her parents must have instilled a disciplined and competitive spirit for her to have achieved so much. Are they such bad people?”
“Kendall didn’t want Rory to have the sort of childhood she had. Winning was everything to her mother, and if Kendall wasn’t winning, she was worthless. Nobody is ever going to make Rory feel worthless.” She straightened her shoulders. “Not if I can help it.”
“I understand.” Mac reached for a pad and a pen. “So what’s our battle plan?”
“Our?”
He smiled. “You don’t think I’m going to let you go into this all alone, do you? I care about Rory. I know she loves you, and that you love her. You’ve been there for me, and it’s time I was there for you. So yes—our battle plan. Do you have a lawyer?”
“Not really. Fred Wilson handled the estate.”
“He handled the property sale for me, too. Fred’s a good guy, but you need a specialist in family law. Let’s talk with Fred tomorrow and see if he might recommend someone in Anchorage to represent you.”
Ursula nodded. “This is going to get expensive, isn’t it?”
“It might.” That was one area where he could offer some real help, but he was sure if he said so now, Ursula would turn him down.
“That’s okay.” Ursula folded the letter and slipped it back inside the envelope. “I have some savings as well as my annuity. I’ll spend it all if that’s what it takes to keep Rory safe and happy.”
He didn’t doubt it for a second.