“He needn’t have worried.”
“I’m glad you’ve finally realized you have no place in Jonathan’s life. He and Nancy are going to be married as soon as the divorce is final. Probably before Christmas.” Katherine looked directly into Kelly’s eyes and spoke with deliberation. “We are all anxious to put this distasteful episode behind us. And if it means a large settlement, so be it.”
“I understand completely.”
“I thought you would.” Katherine moved past her down a long hall to a door at the far end. As she opened the door, Kelly walked past her and shut and locked it in the woman’s face. She leaned against it, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Anger put her feet in motion and she went to the large wardrobe at the end of the room and swung open the double doors. The clothes she had left in Boston were hanging on neat racks—blouses, slacks, daydresses, and evening clothes all grouped together with rows of shoes underneath.
Kelly grabbed an armload of dresses and carried them to the bed, then searched through the vanity for scissors. She began cutting the expensive garments in two pieces, separating them at the waist and dropping them to the floor. When the bed was empty, she returned to the closet for more clothes and kept cutting until her thumb throbbed. All at once she wanted to cry. She let the scissors fall to the floor and picked up her purse, ashamed of her childish act.
She left the room, locking the door behind her. Nancy and Katherine were standing in the living room. Katherine’s face was pale and strained; Nancy’s was still belligerent. Outwardly composed, Kelly managed a sardonic smile and dropped the apartment key in a glass dish on the coffee table, then walked directly to the door, forcing the older woman to step out of her way.
“Tell Jonathan he can keep the clothes for Nancy if he’ll increase my settlement another twenty thousand.” She closed the door softly behind her, and walked down the five flights of emergency stairs to the main lobby. She smiled brightly at the man at the desk and went out onto the street. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going home!
A taxi took her to the railway station. Before boarding the train, she placed a call to the station manager in Hurricane and asked him to contact Mike by radio and have him meet her. Thirty minutes later, she was on her way.
Retreating farther and farther into her thoughts, Kelly hardly noticed the landscape passing outside her window. Her heart ached for her lost love, but her pride was wounded as well. Jonathan had deliberately set about to win her back. Once he’d succeeded, he’d sent her to the apartment to collect his revenge. She hoped the taste was bitter in his mouth. It wasn’t money he wanted. When she’d left him, his pride, too, had suffered a terrific blow that wouldn’t allow him to rest until he had damaged hers.
Kelly’s eyes were hot and dry, but she refused to close them for fear the tears would come. She refused to shed useless tears.
The train rolled on, passing station after station, the click of the wheels singing a familiar tune. But Kelly’s thoughts were far away. Now she would have to tell Mike and Marty that Jonathan owned the resort. Eventually his agents would arrive to dispossess them. She calculated mentally. They should have until December to vacate the property. If Jonathan intended to marry Nancy by Christmas, he must have already started divorce proceedings.
The miles flew by and finally the train pulled into the station at Talkeetna. It was dark when Kelly stepped off, dark at only four o’clock in the afternoon. She pulled the fur collar of her jacket up around her face and walked toward Mike, who was waiting at the end of the platform. Her eyes were glued to his face as she approached. She walked into his arms and hid her face against his shoulder.
“Oh, Mike. I’ve been such a fool!”
“Yeah.”
At last she pulled away from him and he took her hand. He led her to the waiting utility truck, whose running motor sent out a cloud of white fog. Kelly slipped into the passenger seat and Mike revved up the engine. Kelly didn’t speak until they were on the highway.
“I have something to tell you. Mike. It isn’t going to be easy for me to say, or for you to hear, but it’s got to be said. When I married Jonathan, I signed papers allowing him to handle the probate of Daddy’s will, and then I completely forgot about it until he reminded me of it when he first came to the resort. He also told me he’d paid six years of back taxes. Now the property is legally his.” She waited for the explosion that was sure to follow.
Mike was silent for a long while. “That . . . bastard!” He hissed the words from between clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry, Mike. I’m so sorry. My stupidity has cheated you and Marty out of your share. I was so gullible!”
“Join the crowd,” Mike said wearily. “I was even beginning to like the bastard.”
“What are we going to do? How are we going to tell Marty?” She felt, rather than heard, the soft groan that came from her throat.
Mike glanced at her, then took her hand. “She’s a big girl. She’ll take her lumps along with the rest of us.”
“But she and Tram gave up their jobs in Fairbanks. Oh, why didn’t I stay in Portland?”
“Maybe we can raise the money to buy him out.” Mike was grasping at straws and they both knew it.
“He’d never sell to us. He’s out for revenge and he’s got us in the palm of his hot little hand.” Her words were bitter.
“What happened?”
She knew what he meant, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him. “Nothing much. He led me down the primrose path, then pushed me into the icy slough.”
“I knew something had happened when you called.”
After that they were silent. Mike concentrated on the highway that was becoming slick with a freezing mist. Kelly buried her hands deep in the pockets of her coat and stared straight ahead. She felt better now that she had told Mike about the property, and she promised herself that somehow, someday, she would make it up to him and Marty.
“Drop me off at Marty’s, Mike,” she said when they turned into the driveway. “I’ve got to tell her and I’d better do it now.”
Mike parked beside Marty’s cabin. The air was crisp and the tangy, familiar scent of woodsmoke invaded Kelly’s nostrils. This was home. She wished she’d never left it.
Marty opened the door before they reached it. “What in the world happened?”
Kelly stomped the snow from her street shoes and took off her coat before she answered. “Plenty!”
“I figured that. You look as if you’ve been through a wringer. Why in the world did you come back alone. Jonathan . . .”
“I never want to set eyes on him again!” Once again, tears burned in her eyes.
“Well I’m afraid you’re going to see him, because he’s here.”
Kelly’s head jerked around. “Here? I don’t believe it!”
“Believe it. He flew in right after Mike left to pick you up. And he’s raving mad!”
“That’s too damn bad. So am I!” Kelly walked over to the warm, cheery fire and turned her back to it. Mike took off his coat and boots. Tram stood beside his chair and watched her with gentle eyes.
“Tell us what happened, for heaven’s sake,” Marty demanded. “I’ve been so worried since Jonathan came storming in here demanding to know if we’d heard from you.” Her face was creased with concern.
“Jonathan and I have irreconcilable differences. I don’t want to discuss them. But I’ve got something else to tell you.” She told them that Jonathan now controlled the resort. “Marty, Tram, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I wanted you to know the worst right away so you could make plans.”
Marty looked as if she would burst into tears. “You can’t mean he’ll boot us out of here? But . . . this is home!” She turned angrily to Mike. “Why didn’t you take care of those taxes? We could have raked up the money somehow.”
“I didn’t know they were overdue. I thought they’d been taken out of the estate.”
“Don’t blame Mike. Blame me,” Kelly said wearily. “Th
ere’s one small bit of good news. Jonathan may own the property, but he doesn’t own the business or the furnishings. Maybe he’ll give you enough for them so you can get a new start somewhere else.”
“It isn’t that,” Marty wailed. “I don’t think I could bear it if I didn’t know that home was here and I could come back to it when I wanted to.” The anguish in her tone tore at Kelly’s heart and she wished for words to comfort her. But before she could think of any, the door opened and Jonathan stepped into the room.
All the anger and humiliation she had felt in the apartment came boiling up. Her angry eyes locked with his across the room. He stood inside the door in his sheepskin coat, his bare head dusted with a sprinkling of snow. He acted as if there was no one else in the room. The silence lengthened and became heavy with tension.
“Am I being excluded from the conference?” He spoke to everyone, but his eyes remained on Kelly.
“Yes!” Kelly cried. “You most certainly are excluded!” She hadn’t intended to speak so bitterly. She wanted to be calm, uncaring. “I’ve told them you own the resort.”
“I see,” he said quietly.
“No, you don’t see anything. You’re too stiff-necked to see down to our level, but if you could, you would realize that we’ll survive together. We have each other. Who do you have, Jonathan? Katherine and Nancy?”
“I’d rather discuss our misunderstanding in private.” He removed her coat from the hook and came toward her. She met him in the middle of the room and snatched it from his hand.
“We’ve said it! The next time I speak to you will be before the divorce judge. Or do you have the clout to divorce me without a hearing?” Her anger was intensified by the stricken look that crossed his face. What an actor he was! He started to follow her to the door but she turned on him like a spitting cat. “Stay away from me! I’m going home . . . to my house! If he tries to follow me, Mike, break his leg!” At the door, she turned with a parting remark. “I want you out of here tomorrow. All debtors are allowed thirty days to vacate and we’re taking every day of that time.” Her lungs felt as if they were about to explode, but she managed one more breath. “You come near my cabin and I’ll . . . I’ll fill you with buckshot!”
Kelly slammed the door and ran across the snow-packed yard to her own front door. The lamp was lit and a new log lay on the hot coals in the fireplace. Thank goodness her father had made a bar to go across the door. She went to the closet to get it, then placed a chair beneath the knob on the rear door. Only then did she take off her coat and slip out of her wet shoes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE NEXT FEW days were the longest and most unhappy Kelly had ever experienced.
The morning after she had locked herself in the cabin, she heard Jonathan’s voice on the C.B. radio calling Hurricane. He requested they send for his plane. Then he called her.
“Kelly, are you on the channel?”
She turned off the set.
It was almost noon when she heard the plane land in the clearing. Still in her nightgown and robe, she went to the window. Tram took Jonathan to the clearing in the pickup and returned. Kelly stood by the window, tears streaming down her face. A part of her life was over. She cried for lost dreams, for the agony of disillusionment. She had to face the fact that her long-cherished idea of love was simply a myth, that the kind of love she wanted didn’t exist except in the imagination of poets and novelists.
During the long day when she sat beside the fire or lay on the couch hoping for the sleep that eluded her, memories of the scene with Katherine and Nancy stayed doggedly in her brain. She relived each word they’d said over and over again and each time she asked herself how she had ever allowed herself to get involved in such a humiliating situation. When she finally dozed, a pounding on the door awakened her.
“Kelly . . . Kelly . . . open the door,” came Marty’s voice.
Kelly got up off the couch. The room was cold and she shivered as she lifted the bar and opened the door.
“Good heavens! You look like you died . . . days ago.”
“I did.”
Marty handed her a pan wrapped in a heavy towel and took off her coat and boots. “It’s cold in here.”
“I know. I was sleeping.”
Marty took the pan into the kitchen. “You didn’t even start the cookstove,” she wailed.
Kelly almost smiled. Marty tended to over-dramatize. She built up the fire while Marty tackled the cookstove, muttering and complaining all the while.
“And I thought you’d welcome me and your supper with open arms. What do I find but you lying on your fanny and the fires almost out and . . .”
“Oh, Marty! Stop that and say what you came to say.”
“Okay. Why didn’t you come up to the lodge and eat with the rest of us? Your leg isn’t broken!”
“I didn’t want to!”
“Oh!” Marty seemed to relent. “In that case,” she said with her impish grin, more relaxed now, “I’m glad I came.”
Half an hour later, Kelly announced, “The stew was delicious.” She set the empty bowl in the sink.
“Of course. It’s my best recipe, and about the only thing I’m sure will turn out well. It’s a good thing Tram isn’t hard to please. He’ll eat anything that doesn’t bite him first.” Marty settled down in a chair and pulled her feet up under her. “We’ve decided to get me pregnant.” She giggled. “Tram says he’ll work on the project day and night.”
“You’re lucky.” Kelly handed Marty a cup of coffee.
“So are you.”
“Oh, yeah? Sure I am!” She avoided Marty’s eyes.
“I think he loves you,” Marty said softly. When Kelly didn’t answer, she added, “He didn’t take the property from us.”
Kelly turned huge, luminous blue eyes to Marty. “What do you mean?”
“After you left last night, I thought Mike was going to kill him . . . and I would have helped. It was Tram who calmed us all down. He’s not a violent person. His motto is ‘talk first, fight later.’ Anyway, the crux of it is this . . . Jonathan paid up the taxes and settled the inheritance tax, or we would have had to sell some of the property to pay it. But the property still belongs to us. Jonathan said we could consider it a loan at low interest.”
“Don’t believe him. He doesn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart. He’s lulled you into believing that, but he’ll lower the boom on you if things don’t go the way he wants them to go. I know him. He’s devious. He’s divorcing me so he can marry his sister’s stepdaughter. Maybe he’s going to give me our property as a settlement,” Kelly added with a dry laugh.
“I think he loves you.”
“Don’t say that! You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve lived with him. I know him better than you do.”
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to jump down my throat.”
“I’m sorry. I feel so washed out. I feel as if everything has stopped but me, and I’m still whirling around in confusion, fear, and despair. Stay by me, Marty. Someday it’ll be over and I’ll look back on this time in my life as if it had happened to someone else. I just don’t want you and Mike to build up false hopes about this place. I won’t believe we still have it until the deed is in our hands.”
Marty studied Kelly intently. “Time will tell,” she said lightly and rose to her feet. “Meanwhile, we’ve got guests coming this weekend. Two wildlife photographers and a couple who want to ride on a dogsled. Tram will take care of the shutterbugs and Mike said his team is ready to supply the rides. You and I will have to cook and clean. You do the cooking.”
“I hate to cook.”
“So do I. But you’re better at it than I am.”
“I think you can do better than you let on. Aunt Mary taught us both at the same time.”
“I didn’t pay as much attention to the lessons as you did.”
“Oh, get out of here!” Kelly’s voice was warm with affection. “I’ll be up in the morning to give you a
hand.”
Marty smiled tiredly and suppressed a yawn. “I’ll need it.”
Kelly worked furiously the next day, trying to tire herself out so she could sleep that night. She carried out ashes, scrubbed and cleaned, washed and ironed. When she could find nothing else to do, she started up the small chain saw and cut the small chunks of wood needed for the cookstove. Not once did she allow herself to think of Jonathan. Her arms grew so tired holding the chain saw that she dropped it and almost sawed into her leg. She was sensible enough to know it was dangerous to work, so she hitched Charlie to her old sled and they rode around the yard.
Charlie loved it, and Kelly began to doubt Mike’s judgment that Charlie would never make a good sled dog. She told him so that evening during dinner.
“I hitched Charlie to my old sled, Mike, and he took to it like he was born to it.”
“He was.” Mike helped himself to another serving of potatoes.
“Well?” Kelly prompted when it became apparent he wasn’t going to say more.
Marty groaned. “Mike hasn’t outgrown his childish habits. You have to pull every word out of him.”
Mike grinned at Kelly. “Humor me.”
“Get out of here! I should take a club to you.”
Tram looked at Marty questioningly. She laughed. “Don’t worry, darling. They won’t kill each other. This has been going on since they were ten years old.”
“If I told them everything I know, Tram, they’d be as smart as me.” Mike waved his fork at the girls.
“Oh, stop that and tell me.” Kelly knew the twins were trying to raise her spirits, and she appreciated their concern.
“No sense of humor,” Mike grumbled. “Charlie’s sire was the lead dog of a team that placed in the Iditarod Trail Race a few years back.”
“You’re kidding!” Marty cried. She turned to Tram. “You wouldn’t know about this, honey. You haven’t been in Alaska long enough to know about the World Championship Dogsled Races. If a dog has the stamina to even finish that thousand mile race, his value goes up, up, up.” She turned puzzled eyes to her brother. “Hey! How in the world did you manage to get Charlie?”
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