“I’m not sure, Mom.”
“He sounded a bit old for you, Josie,” my mother teased. She knew I kept in touch with Jack, as well as Palmer. I hadn’t shared the full extent of my feelings for Palmer, unsure myself where the relationship would take us.
“Jack’s around your age, Mom.”
“That’s old.”
I waved aside her comment. “He’s the hunting guide I mentioned.”
“I figured as much. You might want to listen to the message yourself,” Mom suggested.
When I’d arrived home, I was convinced I wouldn’t be able to move again for a week after sixteen straight hours on my feet. Eager to talk to my friend, I sprang upright and headed to the kitchen, where Mom kept the house phone. The light, indicating a voicemail, was flashing. I reached for a pen in case I needed to write something down and listened to the voicemail.
“Hello? Anyone home?”
I smiled as warmth washed over me at the familiar sound of Jack’s froggy voice.
“This is Jack. Jack Corcoran. I hope I have the right number. I’m calling for Josie Avery. It’s Thanksgiving Day.” He paused, as if expecting someone to pick up and answer. “Being that it’s Thanksgiving and all, I want Josie to know that I’m thankful for her. I wish she was back here cooking for me the way she once did.”
I should have known Jack was thinking about his stomach.
“Palmer isn’t here. He went to visit his sister and left Hobo with me. Hobo misses you, too, same as me.”
Palmer’s husky. I longed to wrap my arms around that dog and bury my face in his thick fur. I’d never had a dog as a kid—Mom was fond of cats. I’d grown attached to Palmer’s sidekick and missed him, along with everything and everyone in Ponder.
“No need to call back,” Jack continued. “I called to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and let you know Angie and Steve invited me to dinner with them.”
The call abruptly ended, and I leaned against the kitchen counter. A silly grin covered my face while I replayed the voicemail. Just hearing Jack’s voice was like a soothing balm to my tired body. I missed them all. I was willing to admit nothing felt the same since I’d left Ponder. Even being at home with Mom. I’d been away a little more than seven months, and things had changed here: I’d changed. Mom had, too. We’d always been close—still were. But things were different for some reason. I attributed it to missing Palmer, to the long hours at work, and to the pressure of working with Chef Anton.
“Everything okay, Josie?” my mother asked, joining me in the kitchen. She removed the foil-covered dinner plate from the refrigerator and set it on the counter in front of me.
“Everything is peachy,” I said, straightening. I should have known better than to try to hide my feelings from my mother. She knew me far too well.
“You miss Alaska, don’t you?”
This wasn’t the first time Mom had brought up the topic. Rather than answer verbally, I shrugged. The truth was, not a day passed that Palmer and his proposal weren’t front and center in my mind. I was surprised by how much of my daily life revolved around thoughts of him. The one bright spot in my days of late were the few text messages we were able to exchange. If I wasn’t completely wiped out physically, we used to chat on the phone, until I became consumed with my duties at the restaurant. I had it bad for Palmer.
The only time my head was free of thoughts of him was when I was at the restaurant. I didn’t have time to think about anything but getting the food out in a timely manner and serving it up in a fashion befitting Chef Anton’s high standard of perfection.
“Josie?” Mom repeated, cutting into my thoughts.
“Yes, Mom, I miss Alaska,” I confessed.
“Oh, sweetheart, this job with Chef Anton isn’t working out the way you wanted, is it?”
“Not at all.” I’d worked in a busy restaurant before I’d graduated from culinary school, so I knew the hours would be long, but working with a man so unreasonable and bombastic was more than I had bargained for.
Mom wrapped her arms around me and gave me a tight hug. “Why don’t you return Jack’s call? You’ll feel better.”
I looked at the clock, noting the hour time difference. Then I punched in Jack’s number that I found on the caller ID.
The phone rang five times before he answered.
“Jack, it’s Josie.”
“Josie!” he cried, sounding like I had risen from the dead to contact him. “Oh my goodness, it’s so great to hear your voice.”
“Yours, too. But I’m curious how you got my home number.” I’d never given it to him, although I knew the Brewsters had access to it.
“Ah…well, it might be best if you not know in case I get arrested for breaking and entering.”
His words alarmed me. “You broke into the lodge?”
“I have a key,” he explained. “It’s an old one and doesn’t fit as well as it once did. I’ll be able to fix the door, no problem. Brewsters won’t even know there was any damage.”
“Jack,” I exclaimed, aghast that he would do such a thing. I recalled that all the office files had locks on them as well. I was certain that Jack didn’t have a key to those, but that still didn’t explain how he’d managed to get my home number. I didn’t really care, though. Hearing his voice was just what I needed.
“Only way I could think to get ahold of you,” he explained, sounding more than a little chagrined. “I tried your cell, but that went straight to voicemail.”
“It’s turned off while I’m at the restaurant.”
“You worked today? On Thanksgiving?”
“Yes, it’s one of the busiest days of the year in the restaurant business. Is everything all right?” I asked, eager for information. “How’s Angie feeling?” My author friend and I kept in touch, too, but I hadn’t had time to answer her email from earlier in the week.
“Angie’s great. Cooked a good dinner. Lonely around here without you, though, and now with Palmer away, I’m sort of at loose ends. Thought hearing your sweet voice would help.”
“I miss you, too,” I said, and sincerely meant it.
“Palmer’s pretty miserable without you,” Jack said. “Don’t suppose you’d reconsider marrying him?” he asked, and then expelled his breath. “Don’t answer that. Palmer will have my hide for interfering.”
Jack had always been an endearing busybody. I could almost hear Palmer getting after Jack for intruding in his business.
“You happy to be back in Seattle?” Jack asked, changing the subject.
“Oh yes. There’s no place like home, right?” That was a slight exaggeration. I’d forgotten how noisy the city could be. The first week home, I’d barely been able to sleep with all the racket at night. If it wasn’t the late-night street traffic, it was sirens from emergency vehicles. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to appreciate the sounds of silence. I’d grown accustomed to the stillness of Ponder, where one could hear the snow being blown off the tree limbs by the wind, the distant cry of a caribou, and the crackle of the Northern Lights.
“Just curious,” Jack said. “You still cooking with that famous chef?”
It amused me the way his mind automatically went to food. “Sure am.”
“You ever make moose stroganoff for him?”
“Not yet.” I couldn’t imagine Chef Anton being interested in tasting my special recipe for moose.
“He’ll want to put it on the menu once he tastes it. You tell him I can supply him with the meat if he’s interested.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, grinning.
“Well, I best go now,” Jack said, appearing to have run out of things to say.
“Nice talking to you, Jack.”
“You, too.”
I didn’t want the conversation to end but I didn’t have anything more to tell him.
/> “Bye now.”
“Wait,” he said hurriedly. “Did I mention that I miss your cooking?”
“You might have a time or two.”
“Oh. Needed to make sure you know that I’m probably losing weight because of it.”
That I found hard to believe. “You ever get to Seattle?” I asked him.
He hesitated. “Not in a lot of years. Think I was in the Navy the last time I was there.”
“Well, the next time you’re in town, you have a standing invitation to come to dinner. I’ll cook up a feast you won’t soon forget.”
“In Seattle?” he asked excitedly.
“Yup. It’d be my pleasure.”
“You’re on, Josie.”
My smile was so big, my mouth hurt as we disconnected the call. I let my hand rest on the phone, my heart warmed by our conversation.
My cell beeped in my pocket. Anticipating it to be a text from Palmer, I quickly reached inside my pocket. It was from my friend Jessie. Not Palmer. Come to think of it, I hadn’t heard from him since this morning.
CHAPTER 11
Palmer
Wouldn’t you know it? The minute I stepped off the ski-plane in Ponder and waved Sawyer off, Jack was there to greet me. And who do you think he was talking about nonstop?
Chef Douglas Anton.
Jack had seen a YouTube video with the chef. Who could believe that the old coot even knew what YouTube was, but it was another thing Josie showed him. And who should the chef mention on that video? Josie.
That man was the last person I wanted to hear about, and I’d shut Jack up with a snarl and a cold shoulder. I collected Hobo and speed-walked to my cabin, leaving Jack in the dust. After I cooled down, I felt bad about the way I’d treated him and decided to apologize later.
I’d always known. From the moment I did an Internet search on the chef, I’d sensed he was nothing but trouble. Josie had never hidden the fact that she was thrilled for the chance to work with him. I’d lost count of the number of times she’d told me how lucky she was for this unbelievable opportunity. Not for a minute did I doubt her culinary talents, but in my heart of hearts, I suspected it was more than her cooking abilities that had attracted the chef to Josie.
He wanted Josie. My Josie.
My cell dinged with a text message from her.
Everything OK? Haven’t heard from you.
I hadn’t answered her for a while now. I needed time to think about the Facebook post I’d seen of her with the almighty chef. To hear Josie speak of him, which she’d done plenty of while in Ponder, the man walked on water.
Are you back in Ponder?
It was petty of me to keep ignoring her, so I kept my response short and to the point.
Yes.
Can you talk?
I weighed my options. Earlier I’d been the one to insist that she tell me nothing about the chef, and if Josie had fallen for him, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know it. Mentioning to her that I’d seen the post would be a mistake. The way I currently felt, I’d come off sounding like a jealous fool. Okay, fine. I was a jealous fool, and unreasonable, too, but I couldn’t help how I felt. I had the sinking feeling I was losing her, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
I stared at her text again, afraid my attitude would bleed into our conversation.
Sorry. Busy.
Later then?
Sure.
I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, thankful for the delay. My excuse not to chat had validity. The commissioned replica Civil War sword was almost complete. All that was required was putting the finishing touches on the handle.
With my heart heavy, I set to work, welcoming the distraction. Hobo sat on the floor in the workshop, giving me curious looks. Still, my mind refused to let it go. If the photo of Josie and Chef hadn’t been bad enough, I’d made the mistake of checking out the chef’s Facebook page as well.
That had sent me over the edge. There were photos of the modern interior of the restaurant and the water view. The kitchen staff was highlighted, including some pictures in which the chef stood next to Josie with a proprietary look about him.
On a positive note, he wasn’t holding her against his side like he had every right to lay claim to her, unlike in the photo she’d posted on her Facebook page. My jaw clenched at the memory of her smile in that photo. I wanted to shout at him to remove his arm from around her. Jealous fool that I was, it made me uncomfortable, and that was putting it mildly.
It was a good thing I wasn’t talking to Josie just yet. I needed time to process my next move. A plan, I decided. I needed a plan. My hand stilled as I admired my work on the sword. I was proud of how it’d turned out and knew the owner would be happy. It was a special Christmas gift that a woman had commissioned for her husband, who was a well-known Civil War historian and Gettysburg battlefield guide. I was confident this beautifully crafted sword would become a family heirloom, passed down from one generation to the next.
Although I’d rarely done it in the past, at Josie’s urging, I’d decided to hand-deliver the sword. Flights out of Fairbanks often required a plane change in Seattle. She and I had discussed me visiting her several times, and Josie seemed eager to see me. Obviously, I felt the same—and then some—about seeing her again, too. This layover in Seattle would be brief. How was I going to prove how serious I was in such a short time span?
I loved her and wanted to build a life with her if she was willing. In my mind I’d given her a year to think about my proposal, but I realized now that a year was too long. She needed to make up her mind, and soon, and I was determined to do my best to persuade her to marry me.
Setting aside the sword, I went into the house and logged on to my computer. I was staring at the screen when Jack let himself in. He didn’t say anything at first, and I knew he was probably gauging my mood after the way I’d snapped at him when I’d first arrived back from Fairbanks.
“Sorry about earlier,” I mumbled.
“No problem.”
“You understood what I was trying to tell you, right?”
He pantomimed zipping his lips shut. “You don’t want me to talk about…who?”
“Right.” I grinned, letting him know I appreciated that I didn’t need to explain further.
Jack had never been one to hold a grudge, and he easily accepted my apology.
“What you doin’?” He plopped himself down in the kitchen chair next to me.
“I’m booking a flight,” I returned absently, pretending not to notice his behavior.
“To where?”
“Pennsylvania. I’m hand-delivering the sword.” My gaze didn’t waver from the computer.
“When you leaving? Soon, right? You going to layover to see Josie? You probably should; her working with that—” He stopped abruptly, embarrassed. He zipped his mouth with his fingers again.
Feeling the way I did, the last thing I needed was Jack reminding me that Josie spent time with the chef every day while I was over two thousand miles away, twiddling my thumbs and jealous as hell.
“I’m not sure yet when I’ll leave. Why?” Jack stretched his neck to get a better view of the screen. He seemed overly curious about my travel plans.
“I got big travel plans myself,” he stated casually. “Might work best if we left and returned around the same time. Save costs that way, with Sawyer needing to get us into Fairbanks.”
Jack booking a flight? In all the years I’d known him, he’d never gone farther than a couple hundred miles from Ponder.
“Where are you going?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.
He rubbed his hand down the side of his beard. “I’d rather not say.”
I turned to look at the old coot. “What?”
“My lips are sealed,” he reminded me.
If he wanted to keep s
ecrets, that was fine by me. He was welcome to fly wherever he wanted to without my approval. My lack of curiosity was driving him nuts. Jack was practically jumping out of his long johns in his eagerness to tell me. Letting him stew would do him good, so I continued to torment him. “If you want to plan a trip, great; we can coordinate with Sawyer.”
He narrowed his eyes until they almost disappeared into his bushy eyebrows. “Thing is, I’d be happy to give you a few details if you really wanted to know.”
I shrugged. “Up to you, my friend.” I was beginning to think he’d met a woman online and they had planned a rendezvous.
He leaned toward me and lowered his voice to a whisper, acting like someone might be listening in on our conversation. “I’m going to visit Josie.”
“Josie?”
“We talked on Thanksgiving.”
“She called you?” She’d reached out to me and I’d let the call go to voicemail. She might have assumed something was wrong and reached out to Jack for information. I’d always answered her calls, no matter what.
Looking smug, Jack leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms and smiled. “Nope. I was the one who phoned her at her home number, since I couldn’t reach her on her cellphone.”
“You called Josie?”
“Not telling you how I got her house number, in case the authorities are brought in to investigate later.”
“What?” I was convinced he said that for shock value.
“Not going to involve you.” The self-satisfied look was back on his face. “Don’t want you serving time because of something I did.”
I raised my hands in a gesture of complete disbelief. I’d known Jack all these years and didn’t think there was anything he could do to surprise me. Well, I was wrong. I stared at him, utterly speechless.
“You want to know what she said?” he asked, with a grin that would rival that of the Cheshire cat. I could see that he wasn’t willing to give up any more information without me digging for it.
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