Her Alaskan Hero

by Rebecca Thomas

  Out of the bathroom, he tripped over her flip-flops. If he followed the trail, he’d find her eventually. He tucked the flip-flops under the edge of her side of the bed.

  He stood frozen. Did he really just think that? Her side of the bed? The thought dumbfounded him. He conjured up the image of Sabrina lying in his bed, remembering the feel of her smooth skin. Reaching for a pillow, he brought it to his nose and sniffed in the scent of her.

  Sabrina’s voice sounded from behind him. “I was just about to come get you,” she said.

  Carefully, he put the pillow back. “I was cleaning up a bit.”

  “No point in cleaning it up.” She snaked her arms around his waist. “We’re just going to mess it up again.”

  He didn’t remember a single day in his adult life when he didn’t make his bed. After his father’s death, he took life very seriously by keeping on task, having goals, and keeping things organized. Leaving sheets messed up and towels lying about didn’t feel right, but the feel of Sabrina’s arms around his waist sure did.

  “I went to get clothes out of Ethan’s room. All my stuff is in there still. I see you left me a pair of jeans. Thanks. They fit.” She gave him a little hug. “Are you ready to go?”

  Her breasts pressed against his lower back. He could ask her to move her things into his room. But he wouldn’t. That risked too much. She was only passing through. “Sure, I’m ready. Let’s go,” he said.

  CHAPTER 8

  Sabrina swung her leg over the four-wheeler behind Zak and clutched his waist.

  They sped over the gravel road, turning from side to side to miss potholes. The wind blew across her face, biting her cheeks. The snow-capped mountains towered beside them. The fresh air infused her lungs. This man she clung to made her feel she was living for the first time.

  She tapped his shoulder. “Zak.”

  He let up on the throttle and turned his head. “Yeah?”

  “Will you stop for a minute?”

  “Sure.” He pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, but I’m mad at myself for not bringing my camera.” She leaned back. “Look at these mountains. They are truly amazing. I’ve been in the mountains in California, we’d go skiing there, but these mountains…I don’t know what it is.”

  “It’s the Brooks Range,” he said in that tour guide tone of his.

  “Yes, I know, but listen.”

  They sat quietly on the four-wheeler; neither of them moving.

  Zak broke the silence. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s so quiet.”

  “Yeah, it is, except for the occasional raven squawking.”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever been outside without hearing noise. This place could really refresh and rejuvenate a person. It’s got so much more potential than just a place to hunt,” she said.

  “Of course, it’s not just for hunting. We have a small town here, but it’s big enough for a café, a grocery store, a post office, a gas station, and you saw the runway. We have what we need.”

  She let her hands slip from his waist and surveyed the details of the mountains and the surrounding hills. “I know, but I’m talking about your lodge. You could bring more than hunters in as patrons.”

  “We do,” he said. “In the summertime, we have fishing, hiking, we have corporate retreats, family reunions—”

  “I understand…I’m just now starting to get it.” She nodded and a knot formed in her throat.

  “Get what?”

  “This place is for rest and rejuvenation.” She crawled off the back of the four-wheeler and stared up at the mountains. “For rebirth.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m talking about what I wanted to do in college. Oh, I got my boring communications degree, like my dad wanted, but I also got certified to teach yoga.”

  “You’re a yoga teacher?”

  She wandered off the gravel roadway toward bushes lining the edge. “No. Well, yes, I’m certified to teach, but I never did,” she explained.

  “Why?”

  “It’s not appropriate. Being a yoga instructor is…it’s just not what my family does.”

  “You’re going to have to explain. You’ve lost me again.” Zak swung his leg over and sat on the seat of the four-wheeler, facing her.

  He actually seemed interested in her answer. Like he genuinely cared about what mattered to her. She pulled a plump red seed from a bush. “What is this?”

  “A rose hip. Some people pick them and make jam out of them,” Zak said.

  Tears clouded her vision. She sniffed and rubbed the back of her hands across her cheeks.

  Zak jumped off the four-wheeler and stepped closer to her. “What is it?”

  “It’s complicated.” She took a long, deep breath. While this place rejuvenated her, the nagging feeling of all she had to face at home still weighed heavily on her: the reporters who would hound her until she gave them an interview, the tennis fundraiser she’d organized, facing her father and his interrogation. And, of course, Kyle.

  He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “I haven’t asked you a lot of questions about what happened. I mean, beyond the wedding. I figured you’d tell me what you wanted me to know. I’m a pretty straightforward guy. And smart; you might be surprised.”

  Despite the tears welling in her eyes, she laughed. How did he manage to make her laugh when she was having an episode? “I was just thinking…I usually answer a person’s questions with the answer they want to hear.”

  He was quiet, as though processing her words. “So kind of like responding to the teacher we’ve all had, one who doesn’t really care about your opinion or how you arrived at an answer, but just wants the correct answer—the answer they think is correct?”

  “Yeah, kind of.”

  “So let’s go back. What does this got to do with being a yoga instructor?” he asked.

  “I got secretly certified.”

  He moved his jaw from side to side. “That doesn’t sound like a crime. Granted, if you secretly learned how to rob banks or steal cars, I might be a little more concerned, but there isn’t a secret society of yoga instructors planning to take over the world, is there?”

  Sabrina punched him in the arm. “You’re impossible. Here I am trying to be philosophic, and you’re making jokes.”

  He rubbed his arm and made an ‘ouch’ movement with his lips.

  “Oh, stop. I didn’t hurt you,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “You aren’t crying anymore.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Tears did burn the back of her eyes, but this time it was because of Zak and his thoughtfulness. “You are a smart guy, Zak, but for right now, can we leave this alone?”

  “I’m a good listener. I can stop making jokes. I can be serious, too.”

  “I know you can and I appreciate that. The thing is…I’ve done what other people wanted and expected of me for so long, I completely forgot what I wanted. In college, I wanted to teach yoga, and I hoped to open my own yoga studio. I enjoy making people feel better. You’d be amazed how good yoga can make you feel. And you know…I think Alaska is my yoga right now. I needed this wide-open space and room to breathe to realize what I’d been doing with my life. Everything I’ve been doing, all the choices I made, were to make others happy, but never myself.”

  Zak held her gaze. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but he probably thought she was wading a little far into the deep end. She was only sure of one thing—he cared. And for now, that was enough. “Sorry to go on and on,” she said.

  “I don’t think you were going on and on.”

  “Trust me, I know how to ramble. Should we get going?”

  He stood staring at her intently, before he slowly said, “Sure. Hop on.”

  And she did.

  * * *

  ZAK TURNED the key and they continued toward Gold Cre
ek. Whatever was going on with Sabrina, he was determined to cheer her up. He yelled over his shoulder, “Where do you want to go first?”

  “I don’t care.”

  The grocery store and the café were right next to each other. Tourists were always shocked by the price of groceries in rural Alaska. They’d start there.

  He pulled up in front of Harold and Robin Ackermann’s store and shut off the engine.

  “Wow,” Sabrina said. “I walked from the runway to your place, so I only saw the town from the air. It sure is small.”

  “Yes, it is. I’ll take you inside Ackermann’s store, then we’ll go to the café.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Zak decided to grab a gallon of milk to take back to the lodge. Sabrina seemed to like scrambled eggs, so he’d make her some more. Plus he always liked the shock value of how much money a gallon of milk cost.

  They strolled down the narrow walkways of the tiny store and Zak reminded himself Sabrina was leaving soon, and there was no reason to get involved in her problems or her life. He could take vacation days like Ethan suggested, but then he’d only get more attached to her and there was really no point. She’d move on with her life, he’d move on with his—separately.

  He took a gallon of milk from the shelf. “I’ll grab some milk, as our shipment from Fairbanks isn’t due till later this week.”

  “You don’t buy all your groceries here?” she asked.

  “Nope. Somebody makes a trip to Fairbanks once a week for groceries, but I buy a few things here when we need them.”

  “I’m used to seeing huge grocery stores. This is so small,” she said.

  “Yep, it’s a grocery store, hardware store, book store, gift store, just-about-everything store. Most of the food we need, we have flown in from Fairbanks or Anchorage.”

  “Do you do the shopping for the lodge yourself?”

  “No, we hire someone to do that. Our cook does most of it. But he’s off this week since the hunters are gone. He’ll fly back with a bunch of groceries at the end of the week.”

  “That sure is a lot of planning.”

  They walked to the checkout counter. “Hello, Harold,” Zak said. “Let me introduce you to Sabrina Tate. My guest at the lodge.”

  Harold was an old gold miner who’d been one of the first people to settle in Gold Creek. He retired from being a schoolteacher to live away from the big city and from people. “Happy to meet you, Sabrina Tate. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. Glad to meet you too, Harold,” Sabrina said and extended her hand.

  Harold didn’t usually take much interest in tourists, but his face lit up when he clasped Sabrina’s hand. Figured.

  Harold ran off most of his customers through pure orneriness. But Zak doubted Harold had had anyone this pretty in his store for months, maybe even years.

  Sabrina glanced behind Harold to the bumper stickers displayed on the wall. “‘Canada, my ass—it’s Alaska’s Gas,’” she read. “People really put bumper stickers like that on their car?”

  “Oh sure, here’s more,” Harold said. He pointed to another one. “You’d appreciate this one.”

  Sabrina noted the bear on the sticker and read aloud: “‘Save the Bear. Pepper Spray the Tourist.’” She laughed.

  “Here’s my personal favorite,” Harold said as he chuckled. “I’ll read it for you. ‘Eat Moose: 12,000 Wolves Can’t Be Wrong.’”

  “Oh my goodness,” Sabrina said and shook her head.

  “What brings you to Gold Creek, Miss Tate?” Harold asked.

  Damn, he was even being polite by making small talk. Zak wasn’t sure he’d ever seen this side of Harold.

  “Actually my best friend recommended I visit Forrester Lodge. She subscribes to some magazine and said she saw an ad for it. She said it was the most beautiful lodge she’d ever seen. So here I am, and she wasn’t wrong.” She turned to direct her attention and sparkly smile to Zak. “I haven’t been disappointed.”

  Harold laughed. “You should have come here before they built that fancy-dancy lodge.”

  “Oh, and why’s that?”

  “Then you would’ve seen what rural Alaska really looks like.”

  “This is plenty rural for me, I assure you, Harold.” She leaned over the counter. “Zak was pretty mad at me for not bringing the right kind of clothes, but I think he’s gotten over it.”

  Harold laughed again. In fact, Zak wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Harold laugh more than once before now. Zak stood back and watched Harold stroke his big scruffy beard while he listened to Sabrina talk. His gray eyes twinkled.

  Damn if she didn’t have a way of charming her way into anyone’s heart, even crabby Harold Ackermann. Zak quit listening to them and just watched, mesmerized by the way Sabrina corralled him into her back pocket. She had never talked this sweetly to him when they first met. A twinge of jealousy pinched him.

  What the hell? He was jealous of an old man garnering attention from Sabrina. Certainly some distance from her was in order to get his senses straightened out.

  “That will be $10.99,” Harold finally said, after a lull in their conversation.

  Zak watched for the shocked expression sure to come when Sabrina heard the price of milk, but nothing came. Zak inwardly shrugged and handed Harold a twenty-dollar bill.

  Harold reached in his till for change. “You know, Betsy, and Lenny the café owner, love to play cards. You should join us for a game.”

  Zak didn’t doubt for a second she’d find something to have in common with everyone she met. First Betsy, now Harold, and never mind how she had lured him into her web of sweetness. The woman was full of surprises. “I’m sure she’ll play cards with you, but her specialty is Scrabble,” he said.

  “Oh really?” Harold nodded. “I’m pretty sure Lenny has a Scrabble. I’ve seen it on his game shelf.”

  “I was being sarcastic. Stick to cards. Maybe then you’ll have a fighting chance.” Zak said. “She’ll whip the pants off you at Scrabble.”

  “I can only hope.” Harold chuckled, laughing at his own joke. “No, I’ll leave the pants-whipping to you younger kids, but let’s go over there. I’ll introduce you around. How long are you going to be in town?”

  “Next week I have an event I’ve got to be home for,” she said.

  Zak let the words filter through his brain. Next week.

  Harold handed Zak his change and came around from behind the counter. He put the closed sign up and dug his keys out of his front pocket.

  Sabrina followed Harold and talked about a card game he’d never heard of. Suddenly Zak felt like a third wheel, but wasn’t this what he wanted? She was leaving next week. He didn’t want to get closer to her. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

  Harold locked the front door of the mercantile store. “Or we could play cards. Either way, I’m game.”

  Sure he was game. Why wouldn’t he be? Sabrina was a beautiful woman who was giving an old man her undivided attention. But if Zak looked at this logically, he wasn’t any different from Harold. He’d been sucked in by her charm, too.

  In fact, he should have kept her all to himself. Why did he bring her to town, anyway? Why would he want to share her? He’d play Scrabble with her all day long if it made her happy. The realization of just how deep he was falling stunned him.

  He didn’t like it one bit. He should be drawing up the new marketing plans he had intended on working on this week. He should have been going over the lodge menus because they needed to be changed. He should be doing maintenance on their snowmobiles in preparation for winter. He should be working. “Hey, listen, Sabrina. I should run this milk up to the lodge and get some things done up there. Should I come back in an hour or so to get you?”

  “Sure, that’d be great.” She looked at Zak and then to Harold again. “Actually, you better make it two hours.”

  She laughed and Harold laughed right along with her.

  He needed to get away from her and gain some perspective
. She was leaving. He needed to remember that. No reason to get attached.

  “All right then.” Zak hopped on his four-wheeler. “I’ll be back to pick you up in a couple hours. Stay out of trouble.”

  “I’ll try,” Sabrina said with a heart-tugging smile.

  Zak drove back to the lodge too fast, hitting potholes, and nearly dropped the milk twice. Frustration zinged through his veins and he wasn’t completely sure why. When he needed to think, he chopped wood. He always did his best thinking with an ax in his hands. He put the milk away and switched into his steel-toed boots.

  He should put a load of towels in the wash first. He passed Ethan’s room, but then stopped. He wanted to look at her things. He chastised himself, but he opened the door anyway.

  What few clothes she had were strewn across the floor; socks, shorts, blouses, the skirt she wore the day she arrived, and of course the wedding dress. It was the only piece of clothing folded up and neatly sitting on a chair. He touched the silky fabric and noticed Vera Wang written on the tag inside the neckline.

  She should be married right now. Married and living the perfect life with her perfect husband in southern California with all the silver spoons she wanted. And just how much money did she have? She certainly didn’t bat an eye at the cost of a gallon of milk, but that could mean many things. Maybe she hadn’t been paying attention because she’d been busy talking to Harold.

  Leaving Ethan’s apartment, intent on his mission to think, he grabbed an ax from the mudroom and went to work chopping. Each log he split symbolized the frustration he felt and how he needed to find a way to deal with Sabrina Tate. She was temporary. She’d leave next week. He refused to get emotionally involved with her.

  CHAPTER 9

  Sabrina walked with Harold to the café. He wore a checkered flannel shirt and reminded her of an older version of Paul Bunyan. Who would have ever thought an old gold miner would be interested in card and board games?

  The only reason she knew so many card games was because she’d lived with her sorority sisters for four years. Her family didn’t play games. They didn’t play much of anything. Since completing graduate school this spring, she’d gotten rusty at Scrabble. She hadn’t lived in the dorms for a couple of years. But at least she did things with Kyle. He had taught her how to ski. He was her friend, but her pulse never constantly raced the way it did when she was with Zak. Maybe this was the reason people went crazy in love, doing crazy things, things she never saw herself doing. Ever.