by Amy Vastine
Flynn said, “So, in case you don’t already know, the Cozy Caribou is an institution here.”
She gestured for him to go on.
“Half bar, half restaurant and all-around community gathering place, it can accommodate pretty much any event you can imagine—concerts, reunions, receptions, parties and meetings. They have karaoke nights and even an occasional poetry reading. Food is simple, home cooked and across-the-board fantastic, including the best fish and chips on the entire planet, and freshly brewed root beer that will make you forget your own name.”
Ally grinned. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
Flynn opened the door for her, and the second she stepped inside she knew it was true. The tension of the day began to recede as welcoming sounds bombarded them from all directions: laughter mixed with music while the slide-and-chime of dish on dish was accented by clinking silverware. Across the wide space and off to one side were a couple of pool tables. At the far end of the room a game of darts was in full swing. A group of women was seated at a large table nearby.
“Ah,” he said, following her gaze. “Friends of mine. Come on—I’ll introduce you to some of the nicest people. Most of them will be at the party Saturday, too.”
They approached the group and Flynn turned on his grin, gesturing around helplessly. “Uh-oh, I think I’m walking into a girls’ night thing here, aren’t I?”
A pretty blonde answered. “Well, it is girls’ night, but you can join us because you’re not one of our men and only if you don’t speak about any of them tonight. I happen to have argued with mine, and I don’t want his name mentioned.”
She reached out a hand toward Ally. “Hi, I’m Emily.”
Ally shook it. “Hi, Emily. Ally.”
Flynn draped an arm over Ally’s shoulder. “So, everyone, like Ally just said, this is Ally Mowak.” He started with the opposite side of the table where two look-alike women sat side by side. “Ally, this is Hannah and Shay. Sisters, in case you couldn’t tell.”
To the women, he added, “Ally is coming to Iris’s party with me this weekend.” He turned back to Ally. “Hannah owns and manages Snowy Sky Resort and JB Heli-Ski. Shay is the owner of the Faraway Inn and Restaurant.”
Anyone would guess the women were related; they both had long brown hair and nearly identical golden-brown eyes, over which the same sweeping brows arched gently. Matching smiles accented sculpted jawlines. Something seemed vaguely familiar about them, yet she was sure she’d never met the women.
Flynn was gesturing toward the other side of the table. “And this is Adele and Janie. Adele is Shay and Hannah’s cousin and manages the Faraway Restaurant. Janie owns a knitting business and simultaneously wrangles five children, while Emily here—” he indicated the woman she’d already met “—is president of the Tourism Bureau.” Next, he pointed to the woman seated beside Janie. “This is Laurel, owner and editor of the town’s newspaper, the Rankins Press.”
Ally felt like she’d walked into the middle of a chamber of commerce meeting instead of a girls’ night out.
“Nice to meet you, Ally,” Hannah said with a warm smile. “Was Flynn saying somewhere in there that you know our sister Iris?”
“No, I just know Flynn. He knows your sister. Flynn and his grandfather are pretty much the only people I know in Rankins.”
“How do you two know each other?” Laurel asked, glancing at Flynn’s hand still draped over her shoulder. Ally was pretty sure she wasn’t imagining the curiosity shining in more than one pair of eyes.
Flynn explained, “Ally is like a little sister to me. Our grandfathers go way back. Ally’s grandpa Abe is friends with Doc.”
A few more minutes of small talk went by before Flynn said, “We should go get a table. Ally started a new job at the hospital today, and we’re both starving.”
“Sit with us. Seriously,” Emily said, “we’d love to have you. We’re really not that strict on the girls-only rule.”
The waitress appeared to deliver food. Flynn quickly placed their orders and rounded up two chairs while the women shifted and made room at the table.
Easy conversation ensued until a blond man with a bright smile and boyish good looks sauntered over to their table. “Hey, since Doc Junior here is horning in on your girls’ thing, does that mean I can, too?” He twirled a finger around the table.
Adele scoffed. “Absolutely not.”
“Women and men, Park. No boys allowed,” Hannah said and bit off the end of a french fry.
“Ladies, come on…” he drawled. But his grin suggested that he loved the attention. “It’s been days, hasn’t it, since we’ve bonded like this? I know you’ve missed me.” He seemed to be talking to Hannah and Adele, but they all laughed.
“So, Hannah, how about a game of pool?” he asked.
Adele laughed. Hannah’s chin jerked up as if she was studying the ceiling, but she brought it back down quickly to peer at him. “Seriously, Park?”
“Yes! Please, Hannah. Come on! I’ve been practicing, watching videos on YouTube. Pretty sure I’ve got this.”
“Fine. One game. No bets.”
He huffed. “I know, I know. My betting days are over.”
“Get me a root beer float, and I’ll meet you at table two when those guys finish their game.” She pointed at one of the tables currently in use.
“Awesome.” Park hustled off, presumably to claim the table and fetch Hannah’s drink.
Adele smiled at Ally and Flynn. “Park once lost $500 to Hannah on a pool bet. They were enemies for ages until Hannah saved him from a probable jail sentence and financial ruin. Now they’re friends.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” Hannah said, but her voice held enough gentleness that Ally knew it was true. “He’s on Snowy Sky’s board of directors, but he’s still a royal pain in the butt.”
A shout rang out from the crowd playing darts, drawing the attention of most of the table.
Hannah turned in her chair and started to stand but immediately sat down again, wincing as she settled sideways on the seat. She busied herself riffling through her bag, but Ally wasn’t fooled.
With the collective focus still on the dart game ruckus, Ally felt confident no one was paying attention, so she lowered her voice and asked, “Are you okay? Is it your knee?”
Hannah’s eyes widened slightly before giving her leg an absent pat. “Oh…yes, it is, but I’m fine. Just an old injury.”
“What type of injury?”
Her expression went blank in a way that reminded Ally of herself when someone was prying into her business.
Ally bit back a smile. “Sorry, I’m not being nosy. Well, I am, but only because I’m a medical professional. Maybe I can…”
Before she could think of how to phrase the rest of her explanation, Hannah said, “Thank you for the offer, but I’ve seen so many doctors… It’s a form of arthritis caused by having my leg crushed in a car accident and then pieced back together.”
“What treatments have you tried?”
Hannah glanced toward the pool table where the guys were still playing before facing Ally again with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Do you… Are you like a naturopath or an osteopath or something?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m not a doctor. I’m a paramedic. Currently, I’m working as the hospital liaison and the emergency air medical coordinator. But I’m also… My grandfather, Abe Mowak, is a Native healer. He practices a form of holistic medicine, and one of his specialties is arthritis. I studied with him my entire life.”
Ally knew she needed to tread carefully here. But she trusted her instincts and they rarely failed her. “This would just be a…discussion,” she finally said. “Like I’d have with a friend.”
Hannah seemed to ponder that before replying, “You know what? I’ll think about it. Right now, I need to go humil
iate Park.”
* * *
TAG LIVED OUTSIDE Rankins on twenty-two tree-studded acres located approximately halfway between Bering and Emily’s place, which was a few miles away, and the town of Rankins in the opposite direction. Two years ago, the property had become available, and Tag had snagged it. With a family in mind, he’d built the house mostly himself, a roomy two-story lodge-style home. There were four bedrooms, one of which he used as an office, two and a half bathrooms, a spacious living area and, according to his cousin Janie, a “kitchen that would make a foodie drool.” He’d indulged in some extras like hardwood floors, exposed wood beams, copper sinks and a hot tub.
Upon finishing the house, he’d been surprised by two things: how much he looked forward to getting home each evening and how much he wished he had someone to share it with. Interesting double edge. Tonight, tired as he was, he was solely focused on the first, although it wouldn’t happen for at least a couple more hours. He had a stop to make.
Mickey Patterson had been his high school basketball coach, and Mickey’s wife, Sheila, his third-grade teacher. They owned the property next door, and even though Tag couldn’t see their house from his, that still made them neighbors. Mickey’s arthritis was gradually slowing him down, and Tag often lent him a hand with projects and tasks around his property.
As he approached the Pattersons’ driveway, a brand-new for-sale sign on the opposite side of the road caught his eye, and he braked, slowing the pickup to a crawl. Why would Park Lowell be selling his property? A shareholder and member of Snowy Sky Resort’s board of directors, Park had told anyone who’d listen that he planned to build his dream home out here.
He turned, traveling along the Pattersons’ long gravel drive until he reached their home. Parking behind Mickey’s rig, he then grabbed two hockey sticks from his back seat before scaling the steps of the porch.
Mickey opened the door before Tag could knock, stepped out and closed it behind him. Tone muted with anxiety, he said, “Thanks again for helping me out with this, Tag.”
“You know I don’t mind, Mick.”
“She’s real stubborn and uncooperative. I couldn’t get her to so much as flinch.”
“She’s determined, I’ll give her that. It might be time to move her out once and for all?”
“’Fraid so. I hate to saddle you with it.”
“It’s no problem.” Tag handed Mickey one of the hockey sticks. “Let’s go see if we can talk some sense into her.”
They headed toward the small workshop a short walk from Mickey’s house. Tag spotted the prickly female huddled calmly in the corner as soon as they entered the building. But, then again, a critter covered with quills didn’t have much reason ever to get riled.
Twenty minutes later, without incident, they’d herded the wayward porcupine into a pet carrier.
Mickey seemed pleased. “Time for a beer?”
“Sure.”
They settled at the dining room table. A Mariners game was on the TV in the living room beyond, and Tag noted happily that the team was up by two.
“Hey, I noticed a for-sale sign on Park Lowell’s place. Know anything about that?”
“Yep. I guess he’s selling. Goofy bird thinks he can get twice what he paid for it.”
“Really?” It used to be that Park was always up to one money-making scheme or another, but after he’d tangled with Hannah over a ploy involving the ski resort, Tag had thought those days were past.
“Yeah, I ran into town to have coffee with Scooter Tomkins yesterday. It’s listed with Nadine, and she told Scooter how much he wants for it.” Nadine was Scooter’s sister and the owner of Rankins Realty, the largest of the two real estate agencies in the valley.
“Huh.”
“I know. I’m surprised, too. Supposed to start on his house right about now. Wasn’t too happy about having him for a neighbor, but Scooter said some highfalutin couple already checked the property out. And I generally subscribe to the better-the-devil-you-know philosophy.”
“Me, too, Mick,” Tag agreed. “Me, too.”
* * *
PORCUPINE RELOCATION COMPLETE, Tag finally pulled into his own driveway. He was looking forward to heating up the leftovers that Emily had given him, putting his feet up and watching the last couple of innings of the ball game. As soon as he saw his cousin Janie’s SUV parked out front, though, he remembered he’d made another commitment.
Inside his house, he found Janie’s son Gareth watching the game. A basketball, the teen’s constant companion, sat on the sofa next to him like an important guest.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I had to relocate that problem porcupine for Coach P.”
Gareth laughed. “No problem. I just got here, like, five minutes ago. Where did you take it?”
“About ten miles up toward Glacier City. I’m hoping it won’t be motivated enough to come back upstream no matter how tasty Mick’s saplings are. You want some dinner before we shoot? Emily sent me home with enough lasagna for a week.”
“Sure. Only a couple innings left in the game and it’s tied.”
A basketball scholarship was taking Gareth all the way to the University of Oregon. Tag liked to think he deserved a tiny piece of the credit for developing the kid’s skills. He’d put a ball in Gareth’s hands almost as soon as he could walk and then taken the brunt of Janie’s ire when the toddler dropped it and face-planted right over it. Instead of crying, Gareth had immediately stood and patted the ball, giving credence to Tag’s claim that Gareth was dribbling at nine months old.
Janie’s first husband had died when Gareth and his younger brother, Reagan, were in middle school and she’d been pregnant with twins. For two years, until she married her current husband, Aidan, she’d been a single mom. Tag and Bering had done their best to pick up the slack.
Basketball was Tag’s sport, too, and he loved that it had become his and Gareth’s thing. He wondered how much longer he could fool the kid into believing Tag was still the better player.
“Did you hear back about that camp?”
“Yep, I’m in.”
“Awesome.”
“Coach said the best thing I can do now is have a ball in my hand every day between now and next season.”
“He’s right about that.”
“I need to work on my outside shooting. Which reminds me, did you hear we’re having a basketball tournament on Saturday at Iris’s party?”
Tag’s three youngest siblings were triplets, of which Iris was one. Hazel and Seth were the other two. The party was at Bering and Emily’s. Years ago, Tag and Bering had installed a regulation-sized basketball half-court. Games and tournaments were a regular and eagerly anticipated part of their lives.
Tag grinned. “That should be fun. Edible prize from the Donut Den?”
“Yeah, but Mom said we can’t be on the same team anymore.”
Tag scowled. “Who made her boss?”
“Emily. She put Mom in charge of the teams and the bracket.”
“Well, in that case, we’re screwed.” As a former corporate executive for one of the largest oil and mineral extraction companies in the country, Emily’s charm and organizational skills, combined with the sheer force of her will, left no room for argument.
Gareth chuckled his agreement. “Yeah, but the party will be epic.”
CHAPTER FOUR
FRIDAY, THE LAST day of Ally’s first week on the job, and she’d only been in her office a few minutes when Flynn popped his head in.
“Hey, you got a second?”
“For you? Always.”
He came in and took a seat. “A couple of things. First—don’t forget we have a party to go to tomorrow.”
“I haven’t. I’m looking forward to it. You said it’s an outdoor thing, right?”
“Yes, and I’m glad you brought that up. Wear comf
ortable shoes.”
“What, like hiking boots or flip-flops?”
“No, like sneakers. We’ll be playing basketball. Bering and Emily have a half-court, and there’s going to be a little tournament.”
“Got it. That sounds fun.”
“Next thing, we have a patient who is going to be transported to Anchorage this afternoon.”
“Yesterday’s rock-climbing accident?” Two injured climbers had been brought in the day before after suffering a bad fall.
“Yes, a doctor in Anchorage is going to perform surgery on that shattered leg. I know you’ve had a long week and this will be your first transport. Do you want me to see if I can get one of the paramedics at the station to do it?”
“No, I got it.”
“Okay, it’s scheduled for two. When Tag arrives with the helicopter, I’ll page you, and we’ll go from there.”
Ally’s stomach did a flip. Tag James had been lingering in the back of her mind all week. She’d been waiting to hear about the meeting he’d requested with her and Flynn. She had polished her apology and wanted to get it off her chest.
Careful to keep her tone neutral, she asked, “He flies helicopters, too?”
“Yep. I don’t think there’s a flying machine out there that Tag doesn’t know how to operate—small planes, float planes, big planes, gliders, helicopters. I don’t know that he’s licensed for commercial jets, but I’m sure he could fly one.”
“Was he in the air force or something?”
“No, he’s just really accomplished. In a family filled with overachievers, Tag is the standard-bearer. You remember him, right? He brought Louis in last weekend?”
She sighed and said flatly, “Oh, I remember him, all right.”
“Uh-oh. Wait…was he the person who commented about your attitude?”
“And my age, yes. I have a feeling this is going to be a long day.”
Flynn sat back in his chair and chuckled. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that everyone loves Tag. Great guy. Pillar of the community type. He’s also one of Dr. Boyd’s favorite people.”