“Where have you been all my life?” He sounded groggy now.
Waiting, she wanted to say. But instead she fell asleep, cradled in his arms, comforted by his warmth.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It’s the weirdest feeling, being somebody’s father. I don’t even feel like a grownup myself yet. I wonder if you do, Lindy?
From letters written by Roy Nolan,
April, 1972
THE RAIN TURNED TO SUNSHINE again, and by midweek Alex was nearly done roofing the cabins, but he’d run out of tarpaper and shingles.
Ivy had taken the copter early that morning for pipeline patrol, and Ben and the other guides were fishing with guests out on the chuck, taking advantage of the sunshine.
Alex went in search of Sage and found her in the kitchen pantry, making a list of what groceries were needed.
She turned and smiled, and once again he saw the resemblance to his former wife.
“Hey, Alex. How’s the construction coming along?”
“Close to done.” He explained about the tarpaper and shingles.
“We’re getting dangerously low on supplies here, too. Caitlin usually stays on top of it, I should have realized sooner we were running out of staples. If I finish this list, could you take one of the boats and go to Valdez? The guides left that small crab boat behind…do you know how to run it?”
“Sure.” He hadn’t made the trip alone, but Bert had pointed out the obvious dangers, the places where the water was shallow and where the waves were likely to roll in hard. Alex felt confident he could manage on his own.
“I’ll go clean up a little.”
“Thanks.” Sage turned back to the shelves and her list. “I’ll be finished in about fifteen minutes. Mavis is making lunch—come and have some before you go.”
After a quick shower in his cabin, Alex headed back to the kitchen.
“Here you go.” Mavis plunked a bowl of chowder and a thick roast beef sandwich in front of him. She served Sage and then herself, taking a seat across from Alex. After the first week or so, she’d gotten over being self-conscious around him.
“Here’s the list of supplies, and a couple of signed checks. Just don’t decide to make them out for a million and head for parts unknown,” Sage said with a wink.
Alex pretended to consider the possibility. “I guess I’d better leave you my backpack as collateral.”
Sage laughed. “I think we’ll run on good old-fashioned trust.”
“Ivy’ll be coming back tonight,” Mavis said with a knowing glance in his direction. “He isn’t likely to cut and run as long as she’s around.”
“Collateral, big time.” Sage and Mavis giggled. They knew exactly where Alex was sleeping these nights. They teased both him and Ivy on a regular basis. He chose to ignore their pointed comments, but even though Ivy tried not to react, she couldn’t stop blushing, which delighted the two women. He found her reaction endearing and ingenuous.
“Will the stores question me, cashing checks on the lodge’s account, Sage?”
“Tell them to call me if there’s a problem. Or if Tom’s around he could vouch for you. I think he’s at the office today, Ben was talking to him earlier.”
Alex figured Tom would just as soon have him taken into custody. The man gave him a knot in his gut.
“Good soup, Mavis.” He scooped up the last spoonful and finished his sandwich. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you later.”
The boat trip into Valdez was spectacularly beautiful. Alex skirted the coastline, drinking in the blue of the glaciers. A bald eagle circled above him, and several hundred feet away huge shoals of silver herring stirred the water into a frenzy. Salmon circled the herring, rounding them up like cowboys, knocking them senseless with their tails and then coming back to eat them.
Alex laughed. He’d never realized fish had that much moxie. Seagulls joined in the feast, their raucous voices shrill and urgent in the clear, cold air. Farther out, a killer whale spouted.
No wonder Ivy loved this remote place, insisted that she’d never live anywhere but here. He thought of the way she curled around him each night, even in her sleep turning when he turned. She simply twined her arms around him again once he settled. She slept the way she did everything else, no careless moves, no wasted energy.
He was the one who lay awake for hours, holding her and trying not to think about where they were headed. He’d drawn the lines, and then extended them, not once, but—what? He added the nights in his head. Eight nights filled with passion.
And eight days filled with doubts, because each morning he reminded himself that he couldn’t get involved—any more than he already was. But when evening came, he shoved those intentions into a lock-box and headed for Ivy’s cabin.
The most frightening thing about it was that although the sex was good—admit it, Ladrovik, the sex is over-the-top mind-blowing spectacular—it was the company he wanted even more.
He turned the rudder to avoid a deadhead. Not that they agreed about everything, or even about most things. She was like her father in some ways, stubborn, opinionated, certain she was right, impatient with ideas she didn’t agree with. Perversely, what irritated Alex about Tom attracted and amused him in Ivy. He liked being challenged, being forced to think carefully about what he believed in. He even liked arguing with her. About most things.
The only subject that had brought them close to an out-and-out quarrel was his plan to head into the bush.
“That’s not only stupid, it’s foolhardy and thoughtless,” Ivy had said in a derogatory tone so much like Tom’s that Alex got annoyed.
“The mudflats are like quicksand,” she pointed out. “We can have snowstorms right up till June that cover tracks and bodies…rivers can be streams one day and raging torrents the next. And in the spring the bears are just out of hibernation and they’re hungry—have you ever even shot a rifle? I didn’t think so. And you’re going out alone? No offense, but you aren’t exactly a lumberjack, Professor.”
Her sarcasm made his hackles rise. Alex did his best to curb his irritation. “Maybe not, but before I came up here I read everything I could get my hands on about survival in the woods. I bought the best equipment. And I have a high-powered rifle.” He didn’t tell her that he’d only shot it a couple of times at a stationary target. “No offense, but I figure I can get along better in the bush than you could in the city.”
Her green eyes had blazed. She wrenched herself out of bed and rooted around for her sweats. She couldn’t find them soon enough. He caught her in his arms and kissed away the temper.
Since then, they’d mutually avoided that particular subject, but not talking about it didn’t make it disappear. The simple fact was that soon—very soon—he was leaving. She knew it, and so did he. He also knew that leaving her wasn’t going to be easy.
THE GROCERIES TOOK MUCH longer than he’d expected.
But there was no problem with the checks.
“You’re that guy from down south who’s building those cabins for Theo,” the toothless man in the hardware store said, spraying saliva with every consonant. “Hear he’s coming home in a day or two. Tell him Ned sends his best.”
Two other customers added their good wishes.
The checkout woman at the grocery store said, “How’s it going up at the lodge with Theo and Caitlin away? Hear he’s coming home soon, tell him hey from all of us. I’m putting in a bag of those hard candies he likes.”
Three other clerks and two customers chimed in with their greetings.
There were a lot of supplies. Alex made more trips than he wanted to count down to the dock and back again loading everything in the boat. By the time he finished, it was packed to the gunwales and he needed a break, so he bought a large coffee and an even larger cinnamon bun from a little café on the waterfront and sat on a bench within view of the boat. Not that anyone would steal anything—he was convinced that the year-round residents knew everyone in town and would never dream of pilfering any
thing.
He was basking in the sunshine, head resting on the back of the bench, eyes closed behind his sunglasses when a woman’s husky voice said, “Do you mind if I join you?”
Alex squinted up and sprang to his feet. The arrestingly beautiful woman smiling at him could’ve stepped from a movie screen. Even if she hadn’t had her eyes, he’d have known she was Ivy’s mother. How many former fashion models could one town have?
“Please, sit down.” He set his coffee on the bench and wiped the sticky residue from the bun on his pant leg before offering her his hand.
“I’m Alex Ladrovik.”
“Frances Pierce. Hello, Alex. I think you’ve met my husband, Tom, and my daughter, Ivy.” Her handshake was firm. She glanced at the bench and took a folded paper towel from her handbag, fastidiously spreading it before she sat.
“These pants have to be dry cleaned,” she explained.
Alex nodded. As ignorant of fashion as the next man, he did realize Frances was wearing the type of clothing women wore in San Diego to go out for lunch: high-heeled leather boots and a tailored blazer. Her thick, white hair was shoulder length and set off her sculptured cheekbones. She wore huge hoop earrings and a cluster of black and silver beads at her throat.
In this place, where the uniform seemed to be jeans or sweats and a parka, she stood out like a beacon, but he also realized her beauty would have set her apart regardless of what she wore. It was intimidating. It reduced him to the status of a stammering teen.
“Can—can I get you a coffee? Maybe a cinnamon bun?”
Her smile was a benediction. “Yes, please, I’d like that.”
Alex was back in a few moments. Frances thanked him and bit hungrily into the bun.
“Mmm, that’s delicious,” she murmured. “You’ve probably guessed this meeting wasn’t exactly accidental. I saw you in the grocery store and followed you here.” She sipped at her coffee. “I heard that you and Ivy were—are—friends. There really aren’t any secrets in a small town, you see. And I wanted to meet you.”
Alex smiled. “I’ve wanted to meet you, too. But Ivy and I—well, we haven’t really had much time—we haven’t known each other very long…” Did she know that he was with Ivy every night, all night?
She put a hand on his arm. “No excuses necessary, Alex.” Her smile faded. “Ivy and I—” Her breath caught and she put a hand to her throat. “She—she finds me difficult. With good reason. We don’t see one another that often.”
“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think what else to say.
“So am I.” She looked out over the harbor. “The problem is with me, not her. It always has been. I’m hopeless at mothering, I know that.” Her smile was infinitely sad this time, and unshed tears glinted in her eyes. “Good thing I only have Ivy to ruin. Think if I’d had six kids, the damage I might have done.”
Alex felt sorry for her, and he didn’t stop to edit his response. “She told me you also had a son who died.”
Frances looked surprised. “Yes, I did. We did,” she corrected. “I didn’t know that Ivy thought about Jacob much anymore. It was a very long time ago, and he was two years older than Ivy. She was just a toddler at the time.”
“She told me. My daughter died, too. My Annie.” It still hurt him to say her name. “She was three. It…it changed me.” He suddenly felt inexplicably close to this woman. He felt she understood.
He was right, because she drew her breath in sharply and then took his hand. She held it firmly for a long moment before she gave it a final squeeze and released it.
“Losing Jacob changed me, as well,” she said on a long sigh. “I think—” she gave her head a vehement shake, silver hair rippling around her face “—I know, that in some way it stopped me from being as close to Ivy as I might have been. I was scared of losing her as well, so I didn’t let myself get close. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do.” Her words seemed to echo in his head. “I quit my job. I got divorced, came to Alaska.”
“At least you did something.” Her voice was sad, and when she didn’t say anything further, they sat in companionable silence.
She drank the rest of her coffee, which must have been cold by now. The remainder of the cinnamon bun sat on the napkin beside her.
“When I followed you here, I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say to you, Alex. I think I just needed to know that you were a decent man. I had no idea…that I’d feel so comfortable with you.” She flashed him a mischievous smile. “We have Ivy in common, of course. Even an arm’s-length mother worries about the man her daughter’s seriously involved with.”
He felt a stab of panic then, because obviously people were talking about him and Ivy. And Frances had the wrong slant on their relationship. She needed to understand that it wasn’t either long-term or serious. He was trying to find a diplomatic way of saying that when she added, “And of course Tom is doing the typical father thing, getting all bristly and protective.”
Tom was all of that, all right. “I don’t know what Tom’s told you about me,” Alex began hesitantly. He was going to have to be very cautious here.
He was planning his next words when Frances said, “Nothing, really, except that Ivy’s in love with you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The weather’s warm, the sun is shining and I’m writing this while having lousy coffee in a greasy spoon down by the harbor.
From letters written by Roy Nolan,
April, 1972
ALEX COULDN’T SPEAK. He could barely breathe.
Frances didn’t seem to notice. She wasn’t watching him. Her eyes were on the water as she said, “You see, Tom and I are…I guess the word’s estranged. The only thing we really have in common anymore is Ivy.”
“Then why…why do you stay together?” He hardly knew what he was saying, except that it was so much safer to keep the conversation on Frances.
Ivy’s in love with you.
She shrugged. “Fear. For years I’ve believed I was far too old to do the work I was best at. When I finally started feeling better, I played at teaching, did volunteer work. But recently, I’ve found out there are new opportunities for me, thanks to the aging baby boomers.”
“In modeling?” His mouth was on automatic pilot.
“I guess Ivy told you?”
“Yes, she did.”
“It was a very long time ago. In another lifetime. But maybe—”
She got abruptly to her feet, picked up the cinnamon bun and dropped it in a nearby garbage bin. Wiping her fingers on a tissue, she picked up her handbag. “I must go. It’s been good to meet you, Alex.”
“And you.” He still felt dazed.
She was about to walk away, and then her amazing eyes looked straight into his.
“You’re going to tell Ivy we met.”
“Yes, of course.”
She gave him a pleading look. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell her what I said. The part about her loving you? She’d think I was meddling in her private business.” Frances sighed. “She’d be right. It’s just, well, what can I say? I’m her mother.”
“I understand. I’ll treat it as a confidence.”
“Thanks.” She flashed him a smile that could still have graced the cover of any magazine, and then she was gone. She had a distinctive walk, bold and attention-grabbing, and tourists and locals alike turned to watch at her as she made her way down the street. She turned a corner and disappeared.
It felt as if Alex had been punched in the gut. Now that it was too late, he realized there were questions he should have asked—like how did Tom know? Had Ivy confided in her father, told him she was in love with Alex? Or did Tom just assume so because he’d heard they were sleeping together?
Sex was one thing, but love? He couldn’t deal with love. He was going to have to break it off, the sooner the better.
He had very little left to do on the cabins, a bit of roofing, it wouldn’t take long once he ha
d the shingles. There was finishing work still to be done, but that had to wait until an electrician came to do the wiring. The rough plumbing was in place, but again, there was nothing more Alex could do until a plumber put in a septic field. His job was ending. The weather was growing warmer as each day lengthened. It was time for him to do what he’d come here for.
He headed down to the boat and cast off, but the trip back held none of the magic or the lightheartedness he’d felt on his way into town that morning.
Oliver was down at the dock when he arrived, unloading fishing gear from one of the Boston whalers. He grabbed the line Alex tossed him. “Great news,” he said with a wide smile. “Theo and Caitlin got home. Ivy brought them in the copter.”
Alex looked over at the landing pad, but it was empty.
“She had to take off again right away,” Oliver explained. “She had a last-minute booking for a scenic tour from some oil magnates from Texas.”
It was a relief not to have to face her yet. “How’s Theo looking?”
“Not bad, considering. He’s lost a lot of weight, and he’s pasty from being in the hospital so long, but he’s moving pretty good.”
Together, they hauled tarpaper and shingles to the shed and boxes of groceries up to the kitchen, where Caitlin was standing at the stove, browning onions in a huge pan.
“Alex.” She set her spoon down, turned the stove off and came hurrying over to greet him. She took both his hands in hers.
“I want you to know how grateful Theo and I are for everything you’ve done while we were gone. Ben and Sage said they couldn’t have managed here without you.”
“They’re exaggerating, but thank you.”
“Come through to the den and say hi to Theo. He’s delighted to be home. And so am I.”
“Not half as glad as I am,” Mavis said in an acerbic tone. “One more week trying to run this kitchen on my own and I’d have headed for the bush.”
Caitlin patted the other woman’s shoulder. “From what the guests told me about your wonderful meals, they might just not want me back.”
Past Lies Page 12