Until Tomorrow (Boot Creek Book 3)

by Nancy Naigle

  “Over there will be good.” She pointed to an empty booth in the corner.

  He placed his hand on the small of her back as she twisted to walk between two tables of noisy old women. “Looks like someone busted out all the gray hairs from the old folks’ home,” he whispered into her ear.

  She laughed and slid into the booth. “They look like they are having a pretty good time.”

  “What can I get y’all to drink?” the same waitress asked, slapping down two cocktail napkins on the table.

  “What will you have, Flynn?”

  “A glass of ice water, and can you make me one of those blackberry slushy drinks? I know it’s out of season, but they are so yummy. No alcohol though.”

  “Sure. We can make that for you. Sir, what can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a Crown and ginger,” Ford said.

  The waitress laid two leather menus on the table. “I’ll go through the specials with you when I get back.”

  “Thank you.” Ford glanced over at the rowdy table; this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind for tonight. He’d had his hopes on a quiet, romantic evening. “It seems like a good night for celebrating.”

  “It sure does. You’ve got to be so excited about bidding on that building.”

  Excited didn’t begin to describe it. “I’ve had my money saved for a long time. I’ve just been waiting for the right opportunity. Now that my house is done, it’s good timing. I ran back through all of my projections last night.” The universe seemed to be lining everything up—one at a time. The location. The career. The house. The girl. The building.

  Does she feel what I’m feeling? There’s something there, but he wondered if her feelings were as strong as his.

  The waitress dropped off their drinks and ran down the specials. “Do you need more time?”

  After they ordered and waited for the waitress to exit, Ford raised his drink. “To a fun trip to Alaska together.” Maybe the first step in the longest journey of our lives.

  “To us.”

  Us. “And this time you’ll stay in my house, and I’ll cook breakfast for you every morning.” Preferably while she slept in his bed.

  “That’ll be a first. I can’t wait.”

  When was the last time she’d truly enjoyed herself with a man? Sure, she’d been in relationships and done her share of dating, but time with Ford was different.

  She was excited to see what his house looked like. You could tell a lot about a person by their home.

  It occurred to her that she’d made an assumption that his home would be rather nice. Mostly from the bits and pieces Angie and Jackson had shared in conversation over the past year. She had no idea what he drove, and who knew how much money a glassblower made for a living. Would his house be a total bachelor pad? Full of taxidermy? Or one of those off-the-grid places she’d seen on the Alaska wilderness shows on cable? No telling, but she could rough it for one week. As long as he had a real bathroom.

  “I can’t wait to share my Alaska with you. The nature there is so different. Big. Vast. You get a clear sense of how small you are in comparison to this big world we live in. We could even go fly-fishing.”

  “That looks so hard to do.”

  “It’s not as difficult as it looks. I could teach you.”

  “If you’re as good at teaching fishing as you are at glassblowing, we should be able to fill a freezer. I felt like I did pretty well yesterday, if I do say so myself.”

  The waitress slid their plates onto the table in front of them.

  “You did great,” Ford said. “I’d let you partner up with me on a project.” He sliced into his prime rib. “Cooked perfectly. So tell me what you want to see in Alaska.”

  “What do I want to see in Alaska? Gosh . . . whales. A moose.” She took a bite of her prime rib, still thinking. “The Northern Lights. Oh, I want some of those cute furry boots, and a real Alaskan Ulu knife. I don’t know. Surprise me!”

  Ford laughed. “We might need more time.”

  “No. I’m sure I’ll get a good taste of Alaska. The priority is you getting to bid on that building.”

  “We’ll work it out.”

  For the next half hour they ate and discussed the trip. Ford said, “This place is a lot louder than I expected it to be. If you’re done, would you mind if we go ahead and get the check and leave? I could use a quiet evening.”

  Flynn was puzzled by his abrupt change in mood. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

  Ford paid the bill and they went outside.

  “It’s a nice night,” she said, hoping it wasn’t something she’d said that had made him want to leave so quickly.

  “It is. You haven’t asked when the auction is.”

  “Figured you’d tell me soon enough.” She hadn’t asked, because part of her was still unsure if it was really going to happen. Maybe he was having those same feelings.

  He took her hand. “I like the way you think. You’re more patient than most of the women I’ve known.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.” And why was he suddenly comparing her to other women? That struck her wrong for some reason.

  “It’s a compliment,” he said with a quick squeeze of her hand. “We fly out on Tuesday. Gary was able to reschedule everything at the school for the rest of the week. I have to be registered for the sale by Thursday.”

  “Even if we get delayed for some reason, we should be there in time,” Flynn said.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Ford said. “Plus it’ll give us an extra night to have the chance to see the aurora borealis.”

  “So, there’s a chance we won’t see them?” They turned on her block.

  “It’s not a sure thing, but I’ve got a friend with a plane if we need to go farther north to see them. There usually is some snow by now, but the temperatures have been milder. Global warming and all. So you’ll need warm clothing, but nothing Antarctica-like.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “About the weather? Yeah. People down here may not believe it’s an issue, but we see it clear as day up there. The glaciers are shrinking and winters are warmer. Where we used to see snow, we’re seeing more rain and ice.”

  “Won’t hear me complaining about that. No snow means we’ll be less likely to be snowed in. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my biggest fear about going to Alaska is getting stuck there.”

  Visions of hunkering down on a big chunk of ice in a furry jacket in a snowstorm crossed her mind as they stepped onto her porch. She opened the door and he followed her inside.

  “We do have airplanes. It’s not like time travel.”

  “Quit teasing me.”

  “I’m just playing. You’re really going to love it.”

  His own love for Alaska showed in the way his face lit up when he spoke of it—the way his voice softened. “Thank you for letting me tag along,” Flynn said.

  His smile was gentle.

  “How much do I owe you for the plane ticket?” Flynn asked.

  “It’s my treat. I’m looking forward to your company.”

  “I can’t let you pay for my ticket.”

  “Sure you can. You let me stay at your place for free.”

  “You’ve done more for me over the last week than the guy I paid did in six months. Trust me, you’ve been a bargain.” Why couldn’t he just be a normal white-collar guy living in the lower forty-eight? If he’d stayed a lawyer, living in Tennessee, she’d be head over heels right now.

  “I enjoy that stuff. I love working with my hands. It’s part of who I am. Part of why I couldn’t stand being a lawyer.”

  “And then you moved to Alaska and lived happily ever after.”

  “You might watch too many of those Hallmark movies. It wasn’t exactly that smooth a transition, but I’m happy. I found peace, and by then I’d found that I had a natural talent in glassblowing, and things just all seemed to work out.”

  “You don’t seem to be a starving artist. What woul
d you do if you weren’t pursuing your art? Maybe some other part of the law?”

  “No. That’s behind me. I’d probably build houses or do renovations, remodeling, that kind of stuff. I enjoy working with my hands. I think that’s why glassblowing appealed to me so much.”

  “I never really thought about glass that way.”

  “It’s very physical. You saw some of that today.”

  “I did. It actually surprised me. Tell me about your house. Or the cabin. That’s what you call it, right?” She wondered if the small structure she pictured in her mind was accurate.

  “I’d rather show it to you.”

  “Guess I’ll be patient.”

  “Just until Tuesday,” he said.

  Well, now that he’d said her patience was so attractive, she could hardly show how anxious she was really feeling about the trip. “Tuesday.”

  The word had barely gotten out of her mouth when he pressed his lips to hers. Her vow not to become involved dissolved for the moment in the passion that swirled around them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Flynn held up two sweaters. A brown cable-knit and one with cute ribbons at the bottom. “Which one?”

  “Take them both.” Angie started moving underwear, socks, and pajamas from the bed to the suitcase. “At this rate, you won’t be done packing until it’s time to be back home.”

  “I don’t want to overpack.” She took a pair of black pants off a wooden hanger and laid them on the bag. “I told you the binder with all of the information for this place is in the office, right?”

  “Four times.”

  “And the electrician should finish up this week.”

  “I know, Flynn. It’ll be fine. What are you so worried about?”

  “Everything. Angie, what if this is a big mistake?”

  “Then you will come home with a cool adventure under your belt, and I promise this place will be in even better shape than you left it.”

  She pushed a hand through her hair, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Ford makes me feel like no one else ever has. I keep telling myself this needs to stay friendly, but then he kisses me, or touches me as I cook, or puts his hand on the small of my back as I step in front of him, and all of that goes tumbling.”

  “You’re overthinking it all.” Angie pulled one of the straps across the things in the suitcase. “If it’s meant to be, it will be. Just relax. You have nothing to lose.”

  Except my heart. She sucked in a deep breath. “Relax. Just enjoy it. We’re adults.”

  “Yes. Now what jewelry are you taking to go with these outfits?”

  “I have no clue. How do they even dress in Alaska?”

  “Just dress like you. But warmer.” Angie lifted the lightweight camisole pajama top from the suitcase. “A lot warmer.”

  “Put that back. I need that. I’ll bring a sweatshirt to go over it.” She tossed her NC State T-shirt into the bag, and as Angie leaned on the bag to help her get it zipped, it occurred to her that when she came back from the trip her life could be completely different . . . if she wanted it to be.

  Ford watched Flynn sleep beside him as the plane made its final descent into Juneau. It had been one long day of flights, and it wasn’t over. They still had to take the puddle jumper.

  He couldn’t wait to see Alaska through the eyes of someone who’d never been there before; the idea of watching her delight in the things he loved was alluring. For the first time in his life, he wanted to share what he loved most with someone else. And for the first time in his life, he was with someone he felt he could share his whole life with. Even as anxious as he felt this morning when he stepped into the kitchen and saw her, he knew things were going to be okay.

  The plane’s landing gear squealed against the tarmac as they finally arrived in Alaska.

  “We’re here?” She swept her bangs from her face and peered out the window. “That seemed fast.”

  “It was a shorter flight than the last one, but you did sleep the whole time.”

  “Thanks for the first-class ticket. I’d have never been able to justify the cost of the upgrade.”

  “You might not have splurged on the flight out, but I bet after flying coach you’d be willing to pay extra for the room to stretch on the way back.” He checked his watch.

  Flynn’s phone chirped.

  Ford glanced over as Flynn looked at her phone and saw that it was a text from Angie.

  Angie: Have The Time Of Your Life. Relax. You’re Ready. So Is He.

  Flynn scrambled, shoving her phone in her pocket without even responding.

  He got their bags from the overhead and they headed to baggage claim.

  “Why don’t they just transfer the bags here, too?”

  “We’ll be on a small private plane from this point.”

  “Not sure I like the sound of that,” she admitted. They got to baggage claim and the bags were already chugging around the conveyor.

  “You must be good luck,” he said as their bags came around. “I’ve never gotten my bags this fast.”

  “I do what I can,” she teased.

  “One more little hop, and then my friends Chet and Missy will pick us up to drive us the rest of the way.”

  A guy in blue jeans and a blue hoodie met them at baggage claim. “Hey Ford. Traveling a little heavier than usual, I see.”

  “Hi, I’m Flynn.”

  “Carson Callahan. Hope you don’t mind small planes.”

  She glanced at Ford. “We just got off one.”

  Ford and Carson laughed.

  “That,” Ford said, “wasn’t a small plane.”

  Skeptic, she said, “How small are we talking here?”

  Carson looked at Ford like he was crazy. “Really? You didn’t prepare her?”

  “Prepare me? For what?”

  Ford hadn’t really thought about it, but now that Carson brought it up, it was going to look like he’d withheld the information on purpose no matter how he responded. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s a small floatplane.”

  “Six passengers,” Carson said.

  “Wow.” She stood there quiet for a moment. “That is small. Six of us, huh?”

  “There will just be the three of us tonight. The good news is everyone always gets the seat they want.”

  “I’ve never been on a seaplane. That’s kind of cool.” Flynn looked over at Ford. “Another first for me.”

  “I like her attitude.” Carson grabbed Ford’s bags and they followed him out to a white van parked just outside.

  It was a short ride from the airport to an old log-sided lodge on the shore. He drove past the lodge down a gravel road to the water.

  “We’re here.”

  Ford watched Flynn’s expression, but thankfully she didn’t look upset or worried. Excitement filled her face as they drove up to where the three tiny floatplanes bobbed in the water at the dock.

  Carson parked and started moving the luggage to the plane, then helped them board. “Let’s go.”

  They were buckled in and in the air in less than ten minutes. “Can’t beat these lines,” Ford teased. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “It’s a lot louder than I thought it would be.”

  “Yeah, that’s why we have the headphones. So we can talk.”

  “I like it.” She gave him a thumbs-up. The flight wasn’t nearly as scary as she’d expected.

  When they landed at Carson’s dock, Chet and Missy were standing in the small building that wasn’t much more than a fancy shed with a big glass window in the front. Chet held a big piece of cardboard that read “Welcome Home, Y’all!” Chet had teased Ford about his southernisms, y’all in particular, for as long as they’d known each other.

  “Ford didn’t mention he was bringing someone so beautiful back to Alaska. Nice to meet you. I’m Chet. That’s my wife, Missy, hugging on your friend. Hope you packed a heavy coat, because they’re calling for snow this week.”

  She looked to Ford with a surprised look on
her face. “He told me it had been mild out here and layers would be fine.”

  Ford walked over with Missy at his side. “You’ll be fine. If not, I’ll find you a jacket to wear.”

  “If he doesn’t, you and I can go shopping in my closet,” said Missy. “There are still a couple of the local shops open too.”

  “Perfect.”

  Carson carried their bags in. “All set.”

  Ford paid him and caught up with the rest of them to pile into Chet’s huge black four-wheel-drive crew cab pickup truck.

  Chet twisted around in his seat. “First trip out here to Alaska?”

  “It’s my first trip to the West Coast.”

  “You’re in for a treat. There’s no place on earth like Alaska, but have to admit I love North Carolina too,” Chet said.

  “You’ve been to North Carolina?”

  “My sister married a Navy guy. They lived in Virginia Beach for years. We’d do family gatherings down on the Outer Banks in the summer.”

  “The beaches are lovely all along the coast of North Carolina. Boot Creek is more centrally located, but the nice part about that is that we’re just a few hours from the shore or the mountains. Best of both worlds.” Flynn turned to Missy. “Ford said that you and Chet own a bar nearby.”

  “The Manic Moose. I’m the manic. He’s the moose.”

  Flynn laughed out loud.

  Ford loved how she seemed so unaware of her laugh. It was pleasantly feminine, but when something tickled her she really belly laughed. “I bet you know everybody in town.”

  “Just about, but I’m not really sure that’s because of the bar. More likely it’s because we’ve lived there nearly our whole lives. I grew up in town, and Chet was born up in Fairbanks. His parents moved here when he was in junior high.”

  “I get what you mean. I live in a small town too. Someone described it last year as being so small that you could fit every one of our townsfolk in the Grand Ole Opry at one time.”

  “Sounds like something Ford would say.” Chet smiled. “From a head-count perspective we’re that small, but in land mass we’re very spread out. There are some folks that live off the grid who never come around, but for the most part it’s just like any other small town. Everyone knows each other. We know all the gossip, and it’s a helpful community. We look out for each other.”