Finding Paradise

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Finding Paradise Page 7

by Barbara Dunlop


  “It’s a very nice Bordeaux.” Mia handed a glass to Raven and took her seat again, kicking off her shoes to curl her jean-clad legs under her once more.

  “She makes me ship it in special,” Raven said.

  “There’s a savings when you buy it by the case,” Mia said.

  “You’re worried about money?” Marnie found that impossible to believe.

  “Not worried. I just noticed is all.”

  “Are you going to tell me or what?” Marnie asked, taking a sip and discovering it was a very nice wine, despite its humble presentation.

  “She thought Silas was a serial killer,” Raven said, a thread of glee in her voice.

  Mia shot her a glare. “Sure, just blurt it right out there.”

  “It’s not like you weren’t going to tell her.” Raven took a sip.

  “Why would you think that?” Marnie asked with a laugh. “What did he do? Was it threatening?” She couldn’t picture Silas doing anything threatening. She hadn’t so much as seen him frown at Mia.

  “Brought her straight from the airstrip to here,” Raven said.

  “Whose story is this?” Mia asked her.

  “Sorry. Carry on.”

  Mia turned back to Marnie. “We left the airport, just me and him, him all grumpy and annoyed at having to deal with a big-city princess. Then, no explanation, no nothing, we wheel in here. You must admit, from the outside, this place looks like a killer’s lair.”

  “Hey,” Raven said with mock offense.

  Mia ignored her. “He left me alone in the car and hauled my bags off inside. I figured he was up to something, and I didn’t have any mace, so I thought I better get the hell out while I could. I tried to drive away.”

  “She hit a tree,” Raven said.

  “I hit a tree,” Mia admitted. “Silas caught me, took over the wheel and yelled at me for being nuts.”

  “It wasn’t nuts,” Marnie said. It might be funny in retrospect, but a woman should act on her instinct when it came to threatening men.

  “Thank you,” Mia said with obvious satisfaction.

  “It might not be the prettiest house in the world,” Raven said.

  “It’s . . .” Marnie had been about to say practical, but it wasn’t even particularly practical since it had aging furniture, a rustic closet of a kitchen, no phone service and substandard plumbing.

  “Functional,” Mia said. “And you do get used to the eccentricities.”

  “We just installed a cell signal booster,” Raven said. “And after the plumbers finish Mia’s house, they’re going to fix up my bathroom,” Raven said.

  “Don’t go into the bathroom,” Mia warned Marnie. “At least not without instructions.”

  “Instructions?” Marnie hoped she wouldn’t need to use the bathroom.

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Raven said. Her phone dinged, and she checked it out. “Breena says the scavenger hunt is going great guns.” Her eyes went a little wide. “Scarlett climbed a tree to get a shot of the eagles’ nest.”

  Mia’s brows shot up. “Is she okay?”

  “Did she fall?” Marnie asked.

  “The eagles are very protective. They’re fast, really big, sharp talons, sharp beaks.”

  Marnie cringed at the thought of being swooped at by an eagle.

  “Scarlett’s fine, and the picture’s great, but it sounds like it got exciting for a few minutes. Breena’s sending out some new safety instructions.”

  “Maybe she should send a chaperone with each of the groups,” Mia said.

  “Xavier would chaperone Scarlett,” Raven said with a calculating grin.

  “You saw that too?” Mia asked.

  “What?” Marnie answered, feeling out of the loop yet again.

  “Didn’t you see them dancing last night?” Mia asked. “Out on the deck.”

  “It was cold,” Raven said. “But that didn’t seem to slow them down.”

  “I left early,” Marnie confessed, her thoughts going back to Cobra.

  “Tired?” Raven asked.

  Marnie wasn’t about to make something up. “Cobra needed some things from his room, so . . . you know . . . we went to get them.”

  Both women gaped at her in silence.

  “What?” Marnie asked.

  “Together?” Raven asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “If you ask me, Cobra’s the scary one,” Mia said.

  “All those scars,” Raven said. “He’s so quiet. You can never tell what he’s thinking. And he stares with those intense wolverine eyes.”

  “You think he’s quiet?” Marnie agreed on the intense eyes part. She found them sexy. But he hadn’t seemed quiet. He’d been positively chatty last night.

  “You didn’t notice?” Mia asked.

  “Did you do a lot of the talking?” Raven asked.

  “I . . . don’t . . .” Marnie thought back.

  He was an easy man to talk to. He was easy to listen to, too. And he was very easy to kiss—extraordinarily easy to kiss. She couldn’t stop a fond smile of remembrance.

  “What?” Mia prompted, looking curious.

  “Sometimes quiet,” Marnie said, schooling her features.

  The man was quiet when it counted.

  Chapter Six

  Cobra hadn’t planned to join in on the town cookout and campfire taking place in the field off the end of Red Avenue on Saturday. But while he’d grabbed a late lunch in the WSA cafeteria, staff had started mobilizing for the event. He wasn’t going to sit on his hands while others carried picnic tables, chairs and grills over to the site, or while they hauled, bucked and split enough firewood for the night’s bonfires.

  So as the event got under way—WSA and Galina staff arriving at the end of their work days, families coming down to join in the fun, a group of kids kicking a soccer ball around by the goal at the far end of the field, and the LA women making their way over from the nearby WSA housing—Cobra was still splitting the deadfall trees they’d salvaged from the nearby bush.

  They’d decided on three fires to keep them small and accommodate more people. The kids couldn’t exactly roast marshmallows around a giant ten-foot blaze. To make sure there was fuel enough for the night, Cobra and Brodie had stacked close to a cord between the three pits.

  “At least none of them are wearing skirts today,” Brodie observed, pausing to watch the women who were loitering about a hundred feet away.

  Cobra didn’t look up. He wanted to know if Marnie was there, but he didn’t want to see her. If he did, he knew he’d stare blatantly at her beauty. In all likelihood, she’d catch him. And he’d embarrass them both with the naked hunger in his eyes.

  Their kiss had been humming in the back of his mind all day long. It had been one hell of a kiss, rocking him to his core, making him question every kiss that came before it. Logic told him a single kiss couldn’t be that much different than all the others. It had been weeks, maybe a couple of months since he’d kissed a woman, so maybe that was the problem. He should make a trip into Anchorage soon and get himself a social life.

  “The bugs will be disappointed by that,” he responded to Brodie, swinging his ax and burying it in a round of pine, splitting the dry wood into two halves.

  “My guess is they learned a thing or two yesterday afternoon.”

  Cobra lifted one of the split halves and steadied it on his chopping block before stepping back to swing. “What was yesterday afternoon?”

  “Scavenger hunt. Breena sent them out to the eagles’ nest to take a picture. I expect by now they’re fully familiar with our abundant insect life.”

  Cobra gave a dry chuckle as he split the half and tossed two pieces onto the woodpile. “Experience is a great teacher. I saw you donated flightseeing tours.”

  Brodie tossed his own split pieces on
to the growing pile. “Sure. Why not?” He set up another round for himself and began speaking philosophically. “Maybe some of them go back to LA, maybe they share their photos, maybe they mention West Slope Aviation or Paradise, Alaska, and we get some tourism business out of it.”

  “Hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “Did you meet Scarlett?”

  “Nope.” The only woman Cobra had met was Marnie, and she wasn’t even one of them.

  “She’s a production assistant for a Hollywood film company.”

  “You liked her?”

  Brodie drew back in what looked like horror. “No.”

  Cobra wasn’t following. “Then what?”

  “Hollywood film companies need locations.” He swept his arm around the vista of the valley. “Can you think of a better wilderness location than Paradise?”

  “You think she’ll bring a Hollywood film here?” The odds had to be low on that.

  “I know it’s a long shot,” Brodie said. “But if you consider all potential economic outcomes, the odds go up. For example, Ariel Wallace distributes organic products. Maybe she comes up with an idea for natural glacier water. I can see Paradise Valley glacier water being a big seller, can’t you?”

  Cobra tossed his final stick of wood and buried his ax deep in the chopping block. “You’re trying to turn this into an economic development endeavor?”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re like mail-order brides,” Cobra said.

  Brodie frowned. “Not exactly.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. Not mail-order brides.” Cobra knew the statement was insulting.

  They were most likely perfectly wonderful women. From the little he’d heard, they were each smart and successful in their own right. Plus, he trusted Raven. She wouldn’t introduce anyone flaky to the town.

  “Raven was very selective,” Brodie said, sounding defensive.

  “My bad. It sounds like they’re all very accomplished.”

  “Very.”

  “I know Raven has the best interests of the town at heart.”

  “She does.” Brodie buried his own ax into his chopping block, tossing his last two sticks onto the woodpile. “She doesn’t always nail it the first time. But she does try.”

  “Nothing against Raven,” Cobra said, reminding himself to tiptoe around Brodie when it came to Raven.

  Brodie’s gaze moved to the cluster of people around the picnic tables and the grills. “I know.” He was clearly gazing at Raven.

  She was deep in an animated conversation with John Reed, the head cook. From her gestures, he’d guess she had an opinion on the placement of the grills.

  Brodie looked amused. He also looked delighted, his expression softening as he watched the exchange.

  There wasn’t a chance Brodie would be interested in Scarlett or anyone else from LA.

  Cobra didn’t know what the deal was—if Raven wasn’t interested, or if Brodie hadn’t asked her. Curious, he probed for more information. “She’s smart, hardworking and really pretty.”

  Brodie looked up, doing a double take. “What?”

  “Raven. If a guy was looking for someone who’d fit in Paradise, you couldn’t beat Raven.”

  Brodie’s lips thinned. “We all need to stay away from Raven.”

  “We do? I mean, I know we always have.”

  Brodie gave a sharp nod. “And we need to keep it that way.”

  “Because?”

  “The obvious.”

  “Which is?”

  “She makes the whole town run. Somebody does her wrong or breaks her heart, and she’s outta here. Then where will we be?”

  “Have you ever talked to her about it?” Who knew, Raven might appreciate a date or two, maybe even a date with Brodie. She sure didn’t seem like the type to randomly hook up if she went to Fairbanks or Anchorage.

  “Yes,” Brodie said.

  “Really?” The answer surprised Cobra. “You and her?”

  “Sort of. We skirted the issue once or twice. She agrees with the logic.”

  “Are you sure about that?” As they talked, Cobra caught sight of Xavier messing with one of the propane-powered mosquito traps.

  “Positive.”

  “Okay.” Cobra didn’t know why he was still pushing.

  Brodie was old enough to decide who was his friend and who was his romantic interest, and Cobra didn’t have a stake in Raven’s social life one way or the other.

  “I’ll go give Xavier a hand,” Cobra said. “He looks frustrated.”

  Brodie nodded, and Cobra headed across the field to where Xavier was crouched in front of a trap.

  “Problem?” Cobra asked him as he approached.

  “Can’t get the burner to stay lit.”

  “Bottle full?”

  Xavier stood and lifted the propane bottle to test its weight. “I’d say three-quarters.”

  “Does it have a kit?” Cobra looked under the burner as he asked the question, locating the small maintenance kit clipped onto the stand. He unbuckled it. “We should reset the valve pin.”

  He was glad to find the kit fully stocked, including a reset tool. He twisted it into the valve, then he reset the regulator and cleared the lines for good measure before he stood back. “Give it another try. If that doesn’t do it, we might have to take it to the shop.”

  Xavier relit the burner, and they both heard the propane hissing and the small burst as it lit up.

  “Done,” Xavier said, sounding satisfied.

  Cobra replaced the kit and buckled it in.

  “You changed your mind,” Xavier said.

  “About?” Cobra asked as he rose.

  “This. Them. The women. Did you decide you liked one of them?”

  “I didn’t change my mind.” Cobra liked Marnie, but Marnie wasn’t one of the women, so she didn’t count.

  “You’re here.”

  “Only to help out.”

  “So, none of them caught your eye?”

  “None of them. You?”

  Xavier responded with a covert grin and shifted his focus to the women gathered around the picnic tables.

  “Who?” Cobra asked, following his line of sight.

  “Light brown hair, up in a ponytail, with the green jacket and jeans. Name’s Scarlett.”

  “Hollywood production assistant,” Cobra said, putting the name with her face.

  A worried look crossed Xavier’s face. “You’ve met her?”

  “No. Brodie has.”

  “Brodie?” Xavier looked even more worried.

  “He wants her to bring a movie to Paradise. To use us as a location.”

  Xavier looked relieved. “Oh. Okay. That’s a good idea.”

  “It’s a long shot of an idea.”

  “But he’s not attracted to her or anything.”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  Xavier smiled. “Sounds like the field is open.”

  “Sounds like.” Cobra’s gaze slipped from the five and a half foot tall, slim woman to the smiling copper-haired Marnie who stood close by. He let himself stare for a full minute before he forced his attention back to the mosquito trap. “I think we’re good here.”

  “Great. Thanks, man.” Xavier gave him a little salute as he headed for the picnic tables and the cluster of people settling in for the cookout.

  * * *

  * * *

  Marnie felt oddly at home at the community gathering. Some of her few good memories from growing up in Merganser were the summer potluck picnics where she could play with her school friends on a Saturday and somebody always brought dessert.

  Now, she pushed up the sleeves of her olive-green cable-knit sweater and offered her services to the cook who looked to be in charge at the line of grills. Two men were juggling six gr
ills between them.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” the man demurred. “You’re our guest.”

  “It’s a community picnic,” she said, while at the same time picking up the flipper. She knew how these things worked. Offers of assistance were turned down. Actual work was gratefully accepted. Plus, she knew her way around a grill. Right now, a row of burgers at the far end needed flipping, so she did.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

  She grinned right back at the man in the white apron. “I’m part of the community; at least I am for the weekend. I can help out.” Then she nodded. “Your brats are going to burn.”

  That got his attention.

  “I’m Marnie, by the way,” she called out while he rescued the sizzling brats.

  “John.” He looked to be in his midforties, slightly rounded in the middle with a friendly face and warm blue eyes.

  “Nice to meet you, John.”

  “Raven’s not going to like this,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Leave Raven to me. Got another apron?”

  He obviously wasn’t about to give her one himself, since that would make him complicit, but his flick of a glance told her where they were stacked, so she snagged one and put it on.

  She lost his attention after that when the burgers on one of the other grills needed him.

  People filed past the line of grills with their buns at the ready. She fell into a rhythm with John and another cook named Fredo.

  Mia appeared in front of her. “Hey! What are you doing back there?”

  “Cooking some of the best burgers you’ll ever eat.” Marnie slid one on top of the tomato slice on Mia’s bun.

  “You shouldn’t be working.”

  “I’m an organizer, not a guest.” Marnie was having fun, feeling useful and saying hi to people in the brief, casual way she preferred. Plus, she liked John and Fredo.

  “You’re a volunteer, not an employee,” Mia said, looking around as if she was trying to figure out how this had happened.

  “Don’t look at me,” John called over. “I tried to stop her.”

  “He did,” Marnie affirmed. Then she shrugged. “Too bad I’m more persuasive than he is.”

  “Come out here and eat,” Mia said, awkwardly waving her forward with a plastic cup of what looked like red wine.

 

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