Alaskan Hideaway

by Beth Carpenter

  “What’s Control Z?”

  “The computer keyboard shortcut for undo. It undoes the last action.”

  Ursula sat up. “What, so if I accidentally delete a sentence and then hit Control Z, it puts it back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. This will save me all kinds of time on my next newsletter. I should write that down.” Ursula pulled out a drawer on the end table, rooted around until she found a pen and jotted a note. When she looked up, Mac was watching her with a bemused expression. She sank back against the cushions and folded her hands in her lap. “Sorry. You were talking about something important and I got distracted with computer tips. Go on, please. Tell me the meaning of life.”

  He laughed and opened his arms invitingly. “Come here, darlin’.”

  Darlin’? He’d called her that before, just before he’d kissed her. Her cheeks grew warm at the memory.

  No more kissing. That’s what she’d told herself in Fairbanks, after that kiss under the northern lights. That it would be best for all involved to keep this relationship at the friendship level. But the fire was dying, the night air was chilly and his warm arms were right there.

  She slid into his embrace and rested her head against his shoulder. It felt...nice. Solid and warm. Comforting. Just as he’d comforted her through this whole ordeal with his solid presence and good sense. And now he was trying to tell her something.

  She put her hand on his knee. “Seriously, I want to hear what you have to say. Life doesn’t come with Control Z, and what?”

  He pulled her closer and brushed his lips against the top of her head. “I could talk all night, but what it boils down to is this. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve tried to learn from my mistakes. After my wife died, I took great care to avoid any serious relationships. I put all my energy into raising my daughter.”

  “It can’t have been easy, raising a daughter alone.”

  “Not always, but it was rewarding. But that’s not my point. What I’m trying to say, is that you and Rory have become very important to me. I don’t know if I can be any good at a relationship but I want to try. If you’ll have me.”

  “Mac?” She tilted her head back so she could see his face. “What exactly are you asking me?”

  “I don’t even know what it’s called anymore.” He gave a little chuckle. “When you were, oh, about thirteen, did you wear an ID bracelet?”

  “I did. My aunt gave it to me for Christmas. But I exchanged bracelets with Bucky Herrington and he lost it. He admitted that to me just before he asked for his back because he wanted to give it to Jolene Potoskí.”

  “Bucky sounds like an idiot. Who in his right mind would choose Jolene over you?”

  “Jolene was the prettiest girl in school. All the boys were after her.”

  “Let me ask you this—if I had an ID bracelet to give you, would you wear it?”

  “Well, I don’t know. How could I be sure you wouldn’t be like Bucky and dump me for a prettier girl?”

  “Don’t be silly.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “There are no prettier girls than you.”

  “Oh, my.” She pretended to fan her face. “Spreading the flattery on with a trowel, are we?”

  He winked. “Sorry.” He smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead. “Seriously, though. I feel like there’s something between us. An attraction I’ve been trying to ignore, but I can’t. Is it completely one-sided?”

  She smiled up at him. “No. I feel it, too. But just because it’s there doesn’t mean we have to act on it.”

  “Is there any reason we shouldn’t?”

  “Yes. Rory.”

  A flash of hurt crossed his face before he spoke. “Are you saying a relationship with me is bad for Rory?”

  “Not at all. Rory adores you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “I know. When I met you, you were in a dark place. Being around Rory has helped you heal, but Rory can’t fill the hole Andi’s death left in your soul. She’s just a little girl. She can’t shoulder that kind of responsibility.”

  “You think I’m using Rory as a crutch.” He paused, his face thoughtful. “I think you’re wrong. Sure, sometimes Rory reminds me of Andi, but Rory is her own person. In many ways, they’re polar opposites. Rory isn’t anyone’s replacement. She’s important to me because she’s herself.” He took Ursula’s hand in his. “So are you.”

  “But what if this doesn’t work out? Right now you’re a friend and neighbor. If you were to pack up tomorrow and move back to Oklahoma, Rory would miss you, but I don’t think she would feel abandoned. But if you get closer to her...”

  Mac nodded, slowly. “I understand. If it doesn’t work out, she could get hurt. But what if it does work out? I’ve raised a daughter alone, and as you said, it’s not always easy. Two parents make it easier.”

  She sat up and turned to face him. “What are you saying? We’ve gone from ID bracelets to co-parenting?”

  “Exactly. I want to take this friendship to the next level, to explore this attraction and see where it leads. Because I’m betting it can lead to something wonderful. It took me by surprise, but I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  Love? She hadn’t seen that coming. Perhaps she’d deliberately averted her eyes. She’d tried to pull back when she felt the attraction, but circumstances conspired to bring them together. Or maybe it wasn’t circumstances. Maybe it was her own choices that kept pulling Mac closer into their lives. Maybe she wanted him to love her, because she was starting to feel the same for him.

  “Mac.” She reached to lay her hand against his cheek. “I don’t know what to say. I’m tempted. If I only had myself to consider, I wouldn’t hesitate. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a very long time. I’d love to see where we could go with this.”

  “But?”

  “But there’s Rory.” She traced her finger along his jaw before allowing her hand to fall to her lap. “I told you about my father. He never allowed himself to be happy after my brother died, and his unhappiness weighed down the whole family. Just lately, I’ve seen you experience joy, but I’ve also seen you in despair.”

  “I can’t just put aside Andi’s death, as though it didn’t matter.”

  “No one expects you to be happy all the time. But I know you’re still—I won’t say obsessed—but strongly focused at least. I know you’re working with an investigator. I know you haven’t given up on finding your daughter’s killer.”

  “Are you asking me to give it up? To choose between justice for my daughter and a chance to be with you and Rory?”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask that of you. It’s just...” How could she explain it to him? She understood why he needed closure. She wanted his daughter’s killer found and locked away, too. But what if they never found the murderer? Would Mac be stuck in that place for the rest of his life, unable to move forward? Even if the murderer were caught, tried and sentenced to prison, would Mac be able to let go? Or would his blame once again turn inward? Would he be like Ursula’s own father, locked in a prison of his own making, unable to change the past and unwilling to forgive himself for it?

  But Mac was starting to take back his life. She’d seen him with Rory, patiently playing cards and building the snowman. And no matter how dark his mood, he’d always been gentle with Blossom and with Rory. Could she trust him to keep it up?

  He lifted her hand and brushed it with her lips. “You say I make you feel things. What sorts of things?”

  She smiled. “You make me feel secure. Comforted. I feel like I can let down my guard, that you have my back.”

  “I do.”

  She believed him. He’d certainly proven it throughout this custody challenge. And when he fixed the generator. Her resolve was weakening “What, exactly, is implied in this exchange of virtual ID bracelets?”

  “Well, I
suppose that we’ll spend time together. Maybe go out to dinner or a show now and then. Pitch in when either of us needs help.”

  “We’re already doing those things.”

  “Oh, and I get to do this.” He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her close. His kiss was warm and sweet and wonderful, creating a glow in her center that spread all through her. When the kiss ended, they were both breathless.

  “You make a strong argument.”

  “Do you need another demonstration before you decide?”

  “No. I’ve made up my mind. If you’re willing to take it slow, to give Rory—well, all of us—time to adjust, my answer is yes.”

  “You won’t regret it.”

  “I’m already regretting turning down that second demonstration.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to do something about that.”

  * * *

  “A DULL KNIFE is a dangerous knife. It’s important to keep it sharp so that you don’t have to force the cuts.” Mac wiped the edges of the silver penknife he’d picked up for Rory along the whetstone.

  Rory nodded solemnly, her full attention on his safety presentation. Ursula hadn’t been too keen on a knife for an eight-year-old, but Mac had convinced her that teaching Rory to use it properly was the safest option in the long run. Besides, they’d already agreed that the knife would remain here, in Mac’s cabin, and only be used under his direct supervision.

  The three of them had been together almost every day for the past week, skiing, eating dinner, playing cards. Rory’s grandparents wanted to take her to a movie before they returned home, so on Friday night, Ursula, Mac and Rory had driven to Anchorage to meet them. While Rory and the grands enjoyed an animated film about dolphins, Mac and Ursula took the opportunity to see a popular drama at the same complex. It was their first official date, and despite agreeing that the movie didn’t live up to the hype, they’d both had fun.

  Now Mac and Rory were sitting together on the couch in his cabin for a carving lesson while Ursula worked on an afghan for the church bazaar. Mac demonstrated how to hold the knife properly. “Always cut away from your body, and only try to remove a small bit at a time.”

  “Okay.” Rory looked at him expectantly. “Can I cut something now?”

  “Yes, if you think you can remember the rules.” Mac pulled out a waxy white bar from the bin beside the couch and handed it to her. “We’ll start with this.”

  “But it’s soap.”

  “Exactly. This is how my grandfather taught me when I was your age. See how I’ve sketched out a picture on top?”

  “It looks like a turtle.”

  “Uh-huh. Now hold it in your left hand, like this so your fingers aren’t in the way, and use your knife to take off the parts around the turtle shape.” Rory tried to cut a chunk from the edge but Mac stopped her and put his hand over hers. “Just a little at a time, remember?” He guided her hand to peel away a smooth curl of soap and let it fall onto the newspaper he’d placed on the coffee table.

  Ursula’s crochet hook stopped in midstitch as she watched their two heads bent over the project. Under Mac’s tutelage, Rory quickly got the hang of it and went to work rounding off the edges of the soap.

  Blossom apparently decided if Ursula’s hands weren’t busy working, they should be put to a better use. She got up from her dog bed and laid her head on Ursula’s lap. Ursula set down her crochet project so she could use both hands to massage Blossom’s ears.

  Mac retrieved his own knife and a half-finished wood spirit from the bin. The gnome whose face was slowly taking shape had long hair flowing to one side as though windblown. Laughing eyes held a hint of mischief. Really more of a sprite than a gnome, the face was full of energy, rather like the face of the sprite sitting beside him on the couch.

  A new throw hung over the back of the couch behind them. Ursula recognized it as her friend Demi’s work, handloomed and sold in one of the local art shops. There was a new pillow, too, and even a houseplant on the table near the window. Mac was starting to feather his nest.

  In the kitchen where he’d left it charging, Mac’s cell phone rang. Since he was settled in beside Rory, Ursula gently pushed Blossom back from her chair. “I’ll get it for you.”

  “Don’t bother.” Mac winked at her. “Everyone I want to talk to right now is already in this room.”

  Aw. Now Ursula just wanted to kiss him. That had been happening a lot lately. They’d agreed to keep this new relationship low-key, especially around Rory, but inside Ursula felt as giddy as she had the first time she ever fell in love. The phone rang three more times, and then it was silent.

  Rory and Mac continued to work on their respective carvings. Now and then, Mac would set his down to show Rory the next step. Finally, she laid down her knife and went to show Ursula. “What do you think?”

  “He’s cute.” The turtle’s shell bulged a little on one side, but overall it was an excellent first effort.

  “Now what do I do?” Rory asked Mac.

  He picked up the turtle, turning it over to examine each side. “It looks good. If you like, we can smooth it out with a damp finger and then add markings to the shell, but let’s do that next time. I’m hungry.”

  “Me, too.” Rory jumped up. “Pizza!”

  “Then you’d better clean up your workspace so we can go,” Ursula told her. “Remember what Mac said about how to care for the knife.”

  With a minimum of grumbling, Rory cleaned up the soap shavings that had missed the newspaper and dropped on the floor. Twenty minutes later, they were sliding into the corner booth at Fireside Pizza. Rory pointed at the pictures in the menu. “Can we get pineapple on the pizza?”

  “Pineapple?” Mac grimaced.

  Ursula laughed. “Not a fan?”

  “I like pineapple,” Mac said, “but I feel it should stay in its designated slot on upside-down cakes. The best pizza I ever had was simply topped with cheese.”

  Ursula let her head drop to her hands in mock despair. “Oh, Mac. The flavor combinations you’re missing.”

  “Welcome to Fireside.” A young man with spiky blond hair brought glasses of water. “Ursula! Good to see you.”

  “Hi, Jude. Rory and I are trying to convince Mac he needs to be more adventurous.”

  Jude turned to Mac. “You’re the writer, right? The one that reporter was after?”

  “Yes. Mac Macleod.” He offered a hand.

  Jude shifted his order pad and shook hands. “Jude Jenkins. Welcome to Seward.” He grinned. “Sorry I missed out on all the fun. Bill was telling me how he set the scene out at his cabin. He loves that he was able to put one over on the press. So what adventure are Ursula and Rory trying to lure you into?”

  “We want pineapple,” Rory said, “but Mac just wants plain cheese pizza.”

  “Whoa, there’s nothing plain about my cheese pizza. I use a five-cheese blend, including an amazing pecorino from Sardinia I’ve recently discovered.” He kissed his fingertips. “It will make a pizza purist like you weep with joy.”

  “There you go,” Mac said.

  “But Hawaiian.” Rory spoke with longing.

  Mac touched Ursula’s hand. “What do you like on your pizza?”

  She sighed. “I can never decide. I love them all.”

  Jude flashed a grin. “Leave it to me.” He tucked the tray under his arm and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Ursula waved to a couple from church sitting at the table near the fireplace. Only one other table was occupied. “When Jude has time to play, he comes up with some amazing ideas. They’re all rustic-style crust, in a wood-fired oven. I’ve never had a bad one.”

  Mac glanced around. “I’m surprised he can afford to stay open with so few customers.”

  “You wouldn’t recognize the place in the summer. He’ll have a dozen waiters milling around out here, and to
urists will be lined up halfway down the block trying to get in. We’re lucky he uses the winter to refine his menu instead of shutting down seasonally like so many of the restaurants do here.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jude brought plates and a stacking rack to their table. On his second trip, he carried out a large tray. “First, we have a pineapple pizza with Canadian bacon on one side, barbecued chicken and shredded carrots on the other.”

  Rory’s eyes grew bigger, but before she could reach for a slice, Jude slid another pizza onto the upper rack. “Mac, I’ve got your cheese pizza here. And Ursula.” Jude placed a pizza in the center of the table. “This is something I’ve been working on. Tell me what you think.”

  She picked up a slice and tried a bite while he watched. “Mmm.” She chewed, the savory flavors blending in her mouth. “That’s incredible. I taste roasted garlic, apples, and is that plum sauce?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s not chicken. What is it?”

  “Duck, infused with a ginger marinade.”

  “Oh, Jude. You’ve outdone yourself. Mac, you have to try this.” She held out her slice. Mac’s phone beeped with a text alert, but he ignored it and leaned forward to take a bite from the piece in her hands.

  As he chewed, he raised his eyebrows. “I stand corrected. This is the best pizza I’ve ever had.”

  Jude gave a satisfied smile. “You’ve haven’t tried my cheese pizza yet. Enjoy.”

  They did. Mac admitted even the pineapple chicken barbecue was excellent. Rory wasn’t as enamored with the strong flavors of Mac’s cheese blend, but she agreed that it was possible she might like it better when she was a grown-up.

  They were walking out the door when Mac’s phone rang again. “Someone really wants to talk to you,” Ursula said. “Better take it or they’ll call all night. We’ll meet you in the car.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” He handed her the keys and pulled his phone from his pocket. When he saw the caller ID, his face sobered. “This is Mac.”

  Ursula led Rory to the car and started the engine to warm up while they waited for Mac. He was still standing next to the door of the restaurant in a pool of light from the overhead fixture. His face was in shadow, but his posture seemed tense as he listened. Finally, he ended the call and put the phone in his pocket.