Welcome to Paradise
The Kincaids, Book One
By Rosalind James
Text copyright 2013 Rosalind James
All Rights Reserved
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Table of Contents
America Alive 1885: The Contestants
Alpenglow
A Double Dose of Hot
Introductions
Welcome to 1885
Wood and Water
Giving Mira Her Lesson
Hitting the Target
The Game Changes
Strategies and Schemes
Cleaning Ladies
Fences and Fatigue
The Preacher’s Kid
Dangerous Curves Ahead
Double-Buck Saws
Cherries and Brown Eggs
Caveman Tendencies
Too Much Excitement
Working the Alliances
A Walk Down Memory Lane
Hazardous Duty
Worse Things Than Macaroni
When It’s Right
People Who Speak to Your Heart
Square Dance
Tough Challenges
I Will Fight No More Forever
A Lot of Romance
Giving Mira Another Lesson
A Way With Animals
Getting Ruthless
Regrets and Plans
Mira’s Birthday Present
By the Creek
Fighting for It
The Tail of the Dog
The Toxic Person
Telling the Truth
A Little Late to Breakfast
Picnic
Critical Moments
A Million Dollars
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Links
Nothing Personal—Prologue
Nothing Personal—Coffee Break
Nothing Personal—It’s Not Personal, It’s Business
America Alive 1885: The Contestants
Mira (Almira Grace) Walker, 28, management consultant, Seattle, Washington. Enjoys “getting to see my friends when I’m home. Walking, bike riding, and just being outdoors in beautiful places.”
Scott Mitchell, 29, corporate attorney, Seattle, Washington. Enjoys “basketball, Muay Thai . . . anything that’s competitive. The tougher, the better.”
Alec Kincaid, 32, software engineer, Los Gatos, California. Enjoys “working. Oh, you mean hobbies?”
Gabe Kincaid, 32, sports medicine doctor, Fremont, California. Enjoys “strength training, rock climbing, trail running, skiing. I don’t have time for any of it, but I do it anyway.”
Arlene Filippi, 43, textile designer, Boston, Massachusetts. Enjoys “weaving, sewing, baking from scratch.”
Martin Deveraux, 41, professor of cultural anthropology, Boston, Massachusetts. Enjoys “genealogy, hiking, and research in my field.”
Lupe Garcia, 45, home health aide, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Enjoys “cooking and spending time with my children and grandchildren.”
Maria-Elena Garcia, 18, student, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Enjoys “hanging out with my friends, beauty, and fashion.”
Chelsea Santangelo, 23, model/actress, Los Angeles, California. Enjoys “Bikram yoga, Pilates, beach volleyball, singing and dancing.”
Melody Foster, 23, model/actress, Los Angeles, California. Enjoys “living in California, going out dancing.”
Stanley Douglas, 65, assistant principal (retired), USMC (retired), Mount Airy, North Carolina. Enjoys “my kids, my church family, fishing, watching sports.”
Calvin Douglas, 34, PE teacher, Raleigh, North Carolina. Enjoys “basketball, everything about it: playing it, coaching it, watching it.”
Zara Carrington, 66, singer/songwriter, La Jolla, California. Enjoys “music history, hearing music in my head, and hanging around with my husband.”
Hank Carrington, 65, singer/songwriter, La Jolla, California. Enjoys “getting paid to sing with my wife. Best job in the world.”
Kevin Holtzman, 36, bartender, Portland, Oregon. Enjoys “the gym, music, and, OK, I admit it, the occasional club.”
Rachel Holtzman, 39, river raft guide/ski instructor, Bend, Oregon. Enjoys “river rafting and skiing, obviously. Kayaking, backcountry skiing, rock climbing . . . if it’s outdoors, I’ll do it.”
Alpenglow
“We are in the middle of friggin’ nowhere.”
Gabe Kincaid looked across at his brother in amusement. Alec had one hand on the steering wheel, the fingers of the other drumming on the leg of his Levi’s as he gazed disgustedly through the windshield at the rolling hills that extended into the distance, the long stalks of green— grass?—wheat?—Well, some kind of crops, anyway, undulating in the wind like waves across a limitless sea.
“That’s the idea,” Gabe said mildly. “It’s the Palouse. It’s not supposed to be Silicon Valley.”
His twin grabbed for the water bottle in the cupholder between them and took a long swig. “At least find another radio station,” he complained. “I swear, this is the same song we just heard.”
“The trouble with you,” Gabe said with a grin, “is that you aren’t sufficiently open to new experiences. And that you don’t pay attention. This guy is leaving his tears on the jukebox. The last guy was falling in love.”
“Well, it all sounds the same to me,” Alec grumbled. “And I thought there were supposed to be cows in the country. I haven’t seen another living thing for an hour.”
“The change is going to do you good,” Gabe promised. “And pay attention. We’re about to get into Pullman.”
“Thanks for warning me. I might have gotten all flustered by the traffic lights. We could have ended up in Canada.”
Gabe laughed. “You need to learn to focus on one thing at a time. This is a perfect chance to start.”
“I focus just fine.” Alec slowed as they entered the small university town, took the turns that led him past Washington State University and onto the highway that led to the neighboring town of Moscow. “Nobody who’s spent as many hours in front of a computer screen and drunk as much Dr. Pepper as I have in my life can be accused of not being able to focus.”
“You need to focus on what matters,” Gabe said quietly, serious now. “Your inner life.”
“Thank you, Deepak Chopra,” Alec said tersely. “I don’t have a whole lot of desire right now to look at my inner life.”
“Which is why you need to do it.” Gabe knew that, for all his brother’s protests, on some level he recognized the truth of what Gabe was saying. In fact, they both needed a break, a chance to take the deep breath they’d been unable to find time for amidst the hectic pace of their lives.
“Stop it,” Alec said now.
“What?”
“Your Spidey Sense. Knock it off. Quit looking inside me. I’m fine. I said I’d do this with you, and I’m doing it. And we just crossed the state line. Welcome to Idaho.”
“That’s it ahead,” Gabe pointed out a few minutes later, as Alec pulled to a stop at yet another red light in the sparse evening traffic. “The University Inn.”
“Right across from the field full of cows. The booming metropolis.”
Gabe smiled, then ran his tongue across his teeth. “Well, I’ll be glad to get there, myself. This bonding road trip has got me stiff. And I need to brush my teeth.”
“Damn.”
“What?” Gabe asked in alarm.
; “I left my toothbrush back at the motel.”
“Well, you’re not borrowing mine.”
“Right. We’re going to the mall.” Alec belatedly put on his left blinker, waited for the two oncoming cars to proceed through the intersection. Heard a loud blast on the horn from the car behind him before the driver swerved around and passed on the right with a screech of tires and a parting one-fingered salute out the driver’s window.
“Asshole,” Alec muttered as he turned into the lot. “So much for country values.”
Ten minutes later, toothbrush duly purchased, they pulled into the University Inn parking lot and gratefully emerged from the car. Driving all day was never going to feel good, not even in a Mercedes. Alec went inside for the keycard, while Gabe began to haul out suitcases, then stopped in his tracks.
A couple spaces beyond, a young woman stood next to a glossy black BMW with its door open, her gaze turned up to the eastern skyline. Gabe could see why. The view was tinted a rose pink that lay softly over the mountains, giving them an almost ethereal glow.
She sensed his presence behind him, turned with a warm smile that was a perfect complement to the light bathing the landscape behind her. Her soft pink mouth curving, a sudden image of his teeth sinking into that plump lower lip flashing straight through him, waking his body up fast. Her smile rising all the way to the wide-set eyes that shone with happiness beneath dark winged brows.
“Alpenglow,” she told him.
“What?” he asked stupidly.
“That’s what they call that pink thing. Alpenglow. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yeah,” he smiled slowly. “It sure is.”
She nodded, looked back at the mountains with a sigh, leaving Gabe free to take in the view that interested him most. She wasn’t especially slim—in fact, she was downright . . . rounded. Arms, breasts, hips, it was all there, all the good stuff. A nicely defined waist, too, in a slightly crumpled short-sleeved summer dress that flared out at the hem, fluttered a little in the breeze. Long, shiny brown hair caught on the side of her head in a simple braid that reached nearly to her hips, ended in a curly tail. All right, she was attractive. A pretty face, nice hair, a beautiful smile. But she wasn’t gorgeous. Why was he staring at her?
“Cute,” Alec said quietly beside him.
“Yeah.” Gabe gave himself a shake and began to turn away.
“Hey.” The man was striding quickly across the parking lot. Light brown hair, parted neatly. Slim and tall, somewhere between Gabe’s six foot and Alec’s six-two. And, Gabe realized, the same asshole who’d flipped them off earlier, at the light. Frowning, now, as he came to join the woman. “What are you doing? I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I was just looking at the view.”
“Did you get the car cleaned out?”
“Not yet.”
He sighed impatiently. “I’ve got all our stuff inside already, and unpacked, while you’ve been standing here. Could you get a move on, please? I want to go to dinner.”
“Sorry,” she said again. “It’s just so beautiful.”
The man smiled tightly, still not acknowledging Gabe or Alec, who had come up to stand beside his brother and watch the pair. “All I’m asking for is a bit of focus here, sweetie. Eyes on the prize, remember? Can you do that for me?”
“Of course,” she said. Gabe could see the flush spreading up her cheeks, her embarrassment at the reproof in front of strangers. Not his business, he reminded himself. None of his business at all.
“Love her, hate him,” Alec said a few minutes later as they watched the young woman head into the motel, loaded down with a trash bag and various odds and ends.
“Yeah.”
Alec shot a look at him. “You OK?”
“Anger management issues.” Gabe looked at his brother wryly. “I was ready to take him out for a minute there. Haven’t felt like that in a long time.”
“You probably just need to get laid,” Alec said practically, pulling his bag across the lot. “How long has it been?”
Gabe smiled. “Too long.”
“Anyone since Crystal?”
“Nope.” Gabe stood back as Alec used the keycard on the motel door, then humped his suitcase and pack inside. “Too busy.”
“Bro, you’re never too busy for sex.”
“All right. Not in the mood, then. Tired of all the drama. I don’t have the energy for it anymore.”
“That’s why I don’t do the drama.” Alec lifted his suitcase onto the bed, eyeing the dark green quilted synthetic spread with distaste. “Keep it light. You don’t have to get involved, you know. As long as you’re upfront about what you want, where’s the harm?”
“Maybe I’m just not a damn rabbit, like some people. And by the way,” Gabe said seriously, pulling a luggage rack from the closet and lifting his own suitcase onto it before unzipping it. “Be careful, while we’re here. These are close quarters we’re going to be in. Strings are most definitely going to be attached. You do your player stuff, and we’re going to find ourselves out on our asses.”
Alec laid a hand over his heart. His mouth was solemn, but his dark blue eyes, the only feature identical to Gabe’s, laughed at his twin. “I solemnly swear that I will keep it in my pants for the duration. Now all we have to worry about is your Sir Galahad impulses.”
“No problem. I’m tired of rescuing,” Gabe assured him. “I’ve lost the desire to solve anybody else’s problems. I’m not even all that confident anymore that I have the solutions. I just want someone . . . happy, I guess. Happy and fun, to hang out with. Are there any women like that?”
“Not for an ugly bastard like you,” Alec said cheerfully.
A Double Dose of Hot
“Aren’t you ready yet?”
Mira started at the demand, uttered so abruptly from behind her, almost burned herself with the iron she’d borrowed from the front desk.
“Just getting the wrinkles out,” she promised, setting the iron down on the bedside table and picking the dress up from the bed. “Five minutes.”
Scott looked at his watch. “You know I hate being rushed. We have to be in the ballroom to meet everyone at ten. Why couldn’t you have done it last night when we got in?”
“Sorry. Five minutes, I promise.” He was in a bad mood because he was nervous, she knew. Once they got through the initial orientation and he knew what to expect, he’d do better. Until then, she’d just keep from annoying him further. She’d had plenty of practice at that after years of bouncing between her parents’ various households. If there was one thing she was good at, it was not making waves.
Ten minutes later, Scott was shifting impatiently from foot to foot at the hostess stand of the motel restaurant. A busy waitress glanced across at him as she filled coffee mugs. “Be right with you folks,” she called. Bustled over and grabbed menus.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, leading them to a table by the window, with its uninspiring view of the parking lot and the field of cattle across the highway. “Coffee?”
“Please,” Mira said.
“A cappuccino for me,” Scott corrected.
“Sorry,” the waitress said. “We don’t serve espresso drinks.”
“Coffee, then,” he sighed.
When the waitress came back with their coffee, she brought something else too. The two men from the evening before, whom she was clearly planning to seat next to Mira and Scott. They both smiled at her in recognition as they approached, and she found herself smiling right back. It wasn’t hard to do. Both men were dressed in worn Levi’s that clung in all the right places, and T-shirts that stretched across broad chests. Both had dark brown hair, though the shorter one’s was darker, almost black, and wavier than his—brother’s? It must be, she decided. They looked too much alike to be anything else, though the taller one was leaner, not as deep through the chest or as wide across the shoulders. More handsome, too, his features a little more finely hewn, brow ridge and cheekbones
a little less harsh, and a straight, strong nose instead of something that looked as if it had been broken, once upon a time. She wouldn’t kick either of them out of bed for eating crackers, though. There was so much warmth, too, in both sets of dark blue eyes, the generous, well-formed mouths. They were a double dose of hot, that was for sure. Was this what Idaho men looked like?
“Grace.” Scott’s voice broke in on her thoughts as the waitress came to their table, order pad in hand. “What do you want?” He hadn’t seen the men, she realized, from his position with his back to them.
“Oh! Just eggs. The two-egg breakfast, I guess. Whatever,” Mira said, looking belatedly at the menu.
He nodded. “This show’s going to be good for both of us. More exercise, less to eat. But I guess you might as well have one last big meal before we start.”
Was that about her weight? She knew he was disappointed that she hadn’t been able to follow the gym routine he’d set up for her in preparation for the show. She smoothed her dress over the slight rounding of her stomach, wishing it were flatter. Those last ten or fifteen pounds never seemed to come off. Too many breakfast meetings, too many restaurant meals, too many late nights in strange offices.
Not for the first time, she wondered if agreeing to do this with Scott had been a good idea or the biggest mistake she’d ever made. It was one thing to date someone during her breaks between assignments, she’d begun to realize. And another thing entirely to be with him twenty-four hours a day, especially the way he’d been acting lately. He’d started out being so nice to her. Had flattered her, sent her flowers, taken her out to the best restaurants. But that was a good year ago. Lately, it seemed like nothing she did pleased him, no matter how hard she tried. The drive from Seattle the day before, with Scott anxious, jumpy, and snapping at her at every opportunity, had been a long six hours.
He was frowning again now as the waitress seated another party at a big interior table next to theirs. A couple with three young children, the eldest of whom, a boy of about ten, walked and seated himself with difficulty. Cerebral palsy, maybe.
Welcome to Paradise Page 1