All That You Are

by Stef Ann Holm

  A sweet utterance passed through Dana’s parted lips, as if she felt the music in Cardelle’s words. “I understand now.” She twisted the water bottle’s top off and took a drink. “I’ve never thought about it, but I’d have to call myself Asian coffee with a splash of cream.”

  Cardelle’s pearly smile was a beacon of light on his rich, dark face. “Dat be so beautiful.”

  Dana gave Mark a glance, and he found his focus instantly lost in her and the description she’d used to describe herself. The warm toffee color of her skin did remind him of roasted coffee with cream. He liked her gracious response to Cardelle.

  She was indeed beautiful. So beautiful it brought a quiet ache in him. He battled the urge to take her into his arms, hold her close and cup her face in his hands, stroking her fine cheekbones with his thumbs. Her lips were so lush, they begged him to reach out to her and crush his mouth on hers.

  His eyes never left her as she moved toward Leo, traded words with him about something, then laughed. Tonight, she shone. The music, the crowd, the feeling of success all brought a soft glow to her cheeks. He loved watching her like this—unburdened from the challenging details of her life.

  Her blouse clung revealingly to her small breasts, and even in the bar’s foggy light, he could see the slight pulse at her throat. He knew her skin was warm, fragrant with sandalwood and wildflowers. Her mouth tasted sweet, her tongue velvety against his. He combated his desires, keeping his hands fisted on his thighs, almost cutting the circulation from his fingers.

  Mark felt every nuance of her seep into his heart, his thoughts rampantly burning as he fought to gain control over where his mind was leading him. His fantasies were cut short when she was called away by someone needing her attention.

  He needed her.

  In her absence, the crush of air surrounding him chilled, and he missed seeing her face, her slight body, watching a smile play on her mouth.

  Sam made himself scarce and Bear plopped down on the chair beside Mark. In a low voice, as if in covert mode, he gruffly offered, “I aim to help you with that fund.”

  Coming back to reality, Mark finished his beer and ordered a second one. “What fund is that, Bear?”

  “The fire hose fund. You know, the one where we hose down that fire marshal’s flame report and revamp the Note for Dana. I seen you and Sam talkin’. I ain’t heard your exact words, but I can read lips. That talent comes from fixatin’ on animals in the wild. I could tell you what an elk is sayin’ by the flap of his gums.” He scratched the side of his ruddy neck. “I’d like to contribute some cash.”

  “Bear, I appreciate the offer—but Sam was just jerking me on that money thing. Besides, a few bucks won’t make or break me in the long run. Just the same, it’s nice of you to want to help out.”

  Pulling out a checkbook, Bear began to stroke his signature on the bottom line. “I’m talkin’ ten thou, if that’ll do you right.”

  “Ten thousand?” Mark couldn’t hide his shock. “Where’d you get that kind of money cutting carcasses?”

  Bear squeezed in tighter to the small bar space, nearly nose-to-nose with Mark. In a gravelly whisper, he confessed, “A’ight, listen up…Nobody in these parts knows this, and I’d appreciate it if you kept it on the QT—but I’m a well-fed man. Some four years back when I was livin’ in Ar-ken-saw, I picked the winnin’ lotto numbers.” Lowering his voice to a decibel Mark struggled to hear clearly, he went on. “I’m worth over six million, and makin’ more daily on the interest.”

  “What’d you just say?”

  “Shush.” Bear made a motion with his hand, as if to lower the level on a volume. “God bless America for my fortune, as I live and breathe, it’s a gift from up above. Since winnin’, I came to Alaska to live my life the way God intended me, and I ain’t never saw the need to let the town folks know that Bear Barker’s got dough. I moved my daughter and son-in-law here and that dang butt-draggin’ dawg of hers—and thems the only ones who know I’m rich. This here check be from an out-o’ state bank. Look-see, I used to be a fish and game warden back in Little Rock, and when my numbers hit, I packed my gear. It always been in my heart to be in the wilderness. And one of these days, I’m fixin’ on buildin’ a lodge for seniors to come and fish and do all them things that folks say they ought not be doin’ at their ages. If you get my drift. I’m going to have a honeymoon suite and ev’rythin’. I’m workin’ on the layout in my head, but it’s goin’ to be a right nice place.”

  Mark let out a long breath. “Bear, you surprised me. Nothing much in my life ever does.”

  “So I’d like to contribute.” He continued to fill in the blank on the check, tore it off and tucked the paper into Mark’s hand. “It be our little secret. Obliged to you for lettin’ me help.”

  Then Bear disappeared into the crowd.

  Mark stayed behind at the bar, drinking his cold beer as music played throughout the building, a mellow jazz sound that he’d come to appreciate. He mulled over Bear’s generosity and Cardelle’s deep appreciation of Dana’s beauty. He thought about Sam protecting Dana and giving him a warning. And Leo, who’d throw himself in front of a bull for his boss. Presley, who ran the kitchen with devotion.

  The Blue Note was Dana Jackson, and she’d made it hers. At that moment, Mark envied her for coming into her own and taking the risk needed to bring something forward.

  What did he have to show for himself?

  While he’d done the grunt work, pointed fingers and told guys what to do, the buildings he’d completed had been financed by his father’s company. Nobody took a stand for him—they’d gone to his dad, Giovanni, for leadership. And when his father died, that power had sort of scattered among the ranks and there hadn’t been a real definitive man on the job to own it. Mark had been a fill-in, a body count….

  The truth of that hit him hard, and made a decision for him. He could no longer work for Moretti Construction. It was time he carved out his own niche in life, and if he failed, he failed. He had to prove to himself, his father’s memory, that he was capable of big things.

  “Help,” came Dana’s voice next to his ear, her tone distressed. “He’s here.”

  Dragged out of his thoughts, Mark blinked and dialed her into his vision. Standing close to him, her arm was pressed into his shoulder as she tried to compose herself. From the obvious upset look on her face, Mark wondered if her ex-boyfriend had come to cause trouble.

  Before he went into a mental state to kick Cooper Boyd’s ass, Mark needed to make sure. “He who?”

  “Fire Marshal Bill.”

  Letting down his tense muscles, Mark paused. Bill T. Kirk. The fire marshal.

  Easing back onto his bar stool, then manipulating her to stand between his open legs, he whispered, “Not to worry, sweetheart.” Heat surged and pooled low in his abdomen as arousal overtook most of his coherent thoughts. “He can’t give you another citation. You’re already working under the other warning.”

  She took a step back and pushed her hands against his chest. “That’s not the problem. He told me without that second exit door complete, I’m over capacity. I have to tell fifty people they’ve got to leave.” A slender hand rose to her mouth, and she absently bit her pinky fingernail.

  Feeling the loss of her body heat, he stated, “Well, hell, that’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? I’ve been doing a wonderful business tonight and everyone’s having a great time. How do I tell someone they’ve got to leave?”

  Thinking a second, he suggested, “You offer them an incentive to come back another night.” Unable to help himself, he traced her delicate chin. “Give them a coupon for a free drink and an appetizer.”

  A fiery desperation burned in her eyes as she blurted, “I don’t have any coupons.”

  “Sunshine, that’s what a computer’s for. We’ll print some.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Dana roamed through the merry crowd singling out those patrons who were regulars in the Blue Note and who woul
d be understanding about her dilemma. She handed out the vouchers and everyone who received one was happy to comply and vacate.

  Fire Marshal Kirk manned the front door and took inventory of the people leaving. Each person who left brought a deeper furrow to Kirk’s brow, as if he couldn’t understand how she’d managed to thin her crowd and have customers filing out with smiles.

  At the end of the exodus Mark approached the marshal with a smug set to his mouth.

  The man was in his late fifties, bald and skinny as a tenpenny nail. Wire-rimmed glasses sat on a beaklike nose, but his eyes were pleasant enough. Everyone had to make a living somehow and Mark had dealt with more inspectors than he could ever count. Most had a personality like an empty cardboard box.

  “Got your noncompliance taken care of, buddy. We’ll see you for the next inspection.”

  Kirk nodded. “I’ve got my calendar marked for the twenty-first of December.”

  Confident, Mark countered, “Dana will be ready for you sooner than that. Come see her at the end of October.”

  The marshal’s gaze rose toward the efficient new sprinkler system installed in the rafters. “I noticed construction has been hopping around here. Are you a new contractor in town?”

  “I’m just here for the summer.”

  And those words, much to Mark’s regret, cemented Sam’s prediction.

  Marshal Kirk left the bar and Mark made his way to Dana, who waited near the band platform. Once at her side, he took her hand in his and steered her into the widened hallway that temporarily led to nowhere. The speaker system didn’t impact this area as loud and they were able to talk.

  “He won’t give you any more trouble,” Mark informed her, liking the way he stood so tall and masculine over her. She seemed slight and fragile, two things he knew she wasn’t, but sometimes he liked to think of her as needing him.

  Genuine gratitude filled her eyes, their soft pleading melting his heart. “Thanks so much for your help.”

  “Anytime.” His arm rose over her head and he leaned in as far as a body length away. Tucking her hair behind her ears, he asked, “So when’s a good time for me to come over?”

  Her gaze darted to his, and she hesitantly asked, “For what?”

  He grinned and gave a soft chuckle. “You think I want you to repay me with sex.”

  Drily, she remarked, “That was the first thought in my mind.”

  “Baby, your mind is in a romance novel. When and if we do, it won’t be because you think you owe me. You’ll want to for no damn good reason at all other than it’ll make you feel like you—”

  “Stop.” She’d laid her fingertips over his lips and he couldn’t help nip the flesh on them just once. “Just stop. You’re making fun and I’m not in the mood for it.”

  “Fair enough.” Mark spoke through her fingers, and she then lowered her hand. He dragged a rascally grin back onto his mouth. “So when do you want me to come over?”

  “Dammit—”

  “To build Terran his skateboard ramp.”

  Her jaw snapped shut and she took a second to regroup. “Oh, that…sorry.”

  “I promised him. When’s a good time?”

  “Uh, next week.” Clearly flustered, she tried to collect herself. “I’ll pay you for the supplies.”

  “Not a chance. It’ll probably cost two hundred at the most. I can afford it.”

  “I know you can, but I can’t keep accepting your help without repaying you.”

  He tilted his chin in a devilish manner, locking his eyes with hers. “I’ve already thought of something you can do.”

  Suspicious, she asked, “What is it?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Then he released her from being pinned beneath him and left her to wonder what, exactly, he had in mind.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  COOPER LIVED CLOSE to town on 2nd Avenue. His three-bedroom house had been built in the seventies, but was well kept for an older home. The front yard had two flowering shrubs that bloomed in the spring, and that was the extent of color—aside from the russet trim on the eaves. Cooper had painted the exterior siding a hunter-green last year and had Terran help him.

  He had a screened-in patio and a moderately flat patch of grass before the downhill slope overtook the property.

  A previous owner had planted a now enormous feltleaf willow next to the driveway, as if to provide shade for any cars. But that was unnecessary in Ketchikan because they had so little sun, and the tree’s thick and gnarled roots had buckled the cement drive to a disastrous degree, making parking a car precarious.

  Dana pulled her S-10 into the driveway behind Cooper’s Jeep. The single-car garage was never used for a vehicle. Cooper kept his weight set in there, among other items.

  “Mommy, could Riley ever have a sleepover at our house?” Terran questioned as he clicked his seat belt undone.

  He’d mentioned the sleepover thing several times this week, and it still bothered her that Tori Daniel had precipitated this never-ending discussion. No talking to Cooper could change the situation, but she planned on making her feelings known once more when she brought Terran to the front door.

  “No, baby. Riley lives here with Daddy.”

  “But he got to spend the night that one time. How come he can’t again?”

  Riley the Lab had spent the night at their house. Actually two nights, just over a year ago when Cooper had to go to a training class in Seattle for the weekend. Terran had never forgotten that big dog sleeping on his bed. Dana would have liked to. The dumb thing had chewed the leg off her sofa, eaten the garbage and scattered it all over the kitchen and peed in her mother’s tranquil garden, killing a rhododendron with its strong urine stream. Naturally Cooper didn’t believe in neutering a male dog.

  “Because he’s Daddy’s dog and Riley would miss Dad too much if he came to our house.”

  “But how come I have to miss him when I’m not here?” Then his face brightened as if he’d come upon an utterly brilliant idea. “I know! Could Riley spend the night if Dad does, too? He could sleep in my bed with me.”

  “That wouldn’t work out.”

  “Why not?”

  Dana held on to a frustrated sigh. Sometimes she just didn’t have an answer for her son’s never-ending questions.

  She gathered Terran’s hockey gear and his backpack while he climbed down holding a leftover take-out box of fried rice from Chop Suey. Side by side, they walked to the front door.

  The early August day had been spectacular with a temperature in the mid-sixties—and not a drop of rain. Bright sunshine swathed the sky in a clear blue palette and golden-tipped clouds floated in the distance. Everyone worked outside on their yards and homes, played outside at the parks or on the water, cooked and ate outside, and went swimming at Rotary Beach—even though the water left a line of teeth-chattering kids waiting for parents to wrap them in towels. Taking advantage of a cloudless day was a priority.

  Dana didn’t have to ring the bell because Cooper opened the door immediately, a cell phone next to his ear. He laughed into the receiver, waving Terran in and smiling at him, then giving another masculine laugh to the caller.

  She knew the person on the other end was a woman from the fish-brain way Cooper acted. Thankfully he had the good manners to quit the call, but not before saying, “Yeah, me, too.”

  Dana wanted to puke.

  “Hey, buddy!” Cooper said to Terran, who hugged the dog’s thick neck. Riley’s tail wagged forcefully, thumping into the doorway and Cooper’s leg as he sniffed the take-out food box.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Terran replied, face pressed into Riley’s ear. “Can Riley spend the night at my house?”

  Dana pulled her mouth into a frown. They’d already gone over this and her son was blatantly disregarding her mommy rank, going to what he considered a higher source. Cooper could be indulgent, letting Terran get his way on most things. For Cooper, saying no was difficult. Although he could sure use the word against her.
r />   “No, Terran,” Dana replied through Cooper’s response of, “I’m cool with it, but ask your mom.”

  Very brown eyes pleaded from her son’s pained expression. A rubber curl formed on his lower lip. “I asked her and she said no.”

  “Sorry, bud. Then I guess it’s a no from the mommy.” Cooper rested his hand on the doorjamb, his gaze holding hers. She knew that look. He had something to tell her. And she often didn’t like what it was.

  Cooper suggested, “Hey, Terran, why don’t you throw the ball to Riley out in the backyard. We’re going to barbecue steaks later.”

  “I had chicken and red sauce with Momma and Grandma.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I haven’t eaten my dinner yet. You can have some steak if you want.”

  “Can I have a Laffy Taffy?”

  “You know where it is in the cupboard, bud.”

  Terran turned to bolt, but Dana called after him with her heart in her throat. He’d forgotten her. “Terran, baby, give Mommy a hug goodbye.”

  Turning, he thrust himself into her open arms and obliged her with a tight squeeze. His smooth cheek was sticky from soy sauce, his breath smelling like sweet-and-sour chicken. But she loved him all the more as he whispered into her ear, “Love you, Momma.”

  She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Be a good boy. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” He bounded after Riley and the two of them took off in a run through the house.

  Cooper clicked the paneled door behind him and stepped onto the porch. Dana took a step backward. She didn’t want to share the same space as Cooper. A long time ago, she would have slid her arms around him. Now that thought never entered her mind.

  As he slipped his hands into his shorts pockets, a muscle ticked at Cooper’s jaw. “So is that Mark guy your boyfriend?”

  His offhand inquiry threw her for a few seconds before she made a counterattack. “If you’re still pissed at me about the call I made to my lawyer, you can forget about it.” Dana stood as tall as she could with a defiant look in her eyes. There had been a time when she wouldn’t have purposely irritated him, but that had been when they’d been dating. She was older and wiser now. “I’d contact him again in a heartbeat if I thought it would get you to stop. What you’re doing is wrong. And I don’t appreciate it for our son’s sake.”