Northern Fires

by Jennifer Labrecque

  Juliette smiled and felt a tug of wistfulness inside her. Jenna Rathburne Jeffries was so obviously head over heels in love with her husband it was both inspiring and painful to witness. “It doesn’t seem as if you have any competition where Jenna’s concerned.”

  Logan’s grin verged on goofy. He was equally smitten with his wife. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool, huh? I’d say I’m about the luckiest guy on the planet.”

  It’d be nice to have someone feel that way about her, but she just didn’t think those cards were in the hand she’d been dealt, so she was simply playing her own game of solitaire. And happy to do so.

  Juliette brought the plane down, braked to a stop and killed the engine. “I’d say you and Jenna are both pretty lucky…and that baby.” A longing stirred inside her for the family she’d never had. Oh, she’d technically had a family, but somewhere within was the yearning for that Hallmark-card home unit, not the dysfunctional wreckage she’d grown up with. She’d just accepted, after her childhood and her subsequent disastrous marriages, that what Jenna and Logan had, with baby about to make three, simply wasn’t in the cards for her.

  “Yeah, we are.” Logan opened the door and started climbing out. “Thanks for the ride,” he said with a smile as he swung his travel bag over his shoulder and set off with a long stride. “I’m going to check on my family,” he said over his shoulder. “Tell Sven I said hello.”

  What? Was she the man’s messenger service now? She pasted on a smile and called out, “Will do. Give Jenna my regards, as well.” She hadn’t seen Jenna in a couple of days, but then Jenna had been wrapped up in the spa and Juliette was plenty busy with her job and the set. Flights were always up this time of year with the influx of tourists and folks coming out for fishing and backpacking.

  Juliette crossed to the air terminal door and walked in. Merrilee, sitting behind her desk, looked unusually harried.

  “Hi, Juliette. I swear it’ll be the first time anyone ever dies from a broken arm.”

  Juliette had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing. Merrilee was so seldom out of sorts, and hardly ever with Bull, but this was obviously about Bull as he was the only person in town with a broken arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “I may kill him just to put us both out of our misery if he’s this kind of patient the entire time.”

  Juliette simply smiled. Merrilee and Bull were devoted to one another without being sickening. Sort of like Jenna and Logan…and Nelson and Ellie…and Clint and Tessa…and Dalton and Skye…and Petey and Donna…and well, the list seemed rather endless these days. It was almost enough to give a sensible woman foolish thoughts of happy-ever-after not just being a pipe dream.

  “Sorry things are so iffy,” Juliette said. “I hope Bull shapes up. Curl’s pretty busy with his taxidermy business now. Having to move into mortuary mode now would throw him for a loop.”

  “You’re probably right. If Curl had to take care of a human dead body during the middle of tourist and taxidermy season, that’d throw a kink in his hosepipe. I’ll give Bull another day to pull himself out of his doldrums. I’ve suggested he collaborate with Sven, but no, he’s got to sulk. Says he’s not interested in armchair quarterbacking.” She shook her head in disgust and then waved a hand as if dismissing Bull. “How’d it go with Sven last night?”

  Talk about a loaded question. Juliette, however, took it at face value. “Fine. He gets the design concept and he had a couple of good suggestions.”

  Merrilee nodded, satisfaction in her smile. “I knew he would. He’s a nice guy.”

  They’d covered that last night. Why was everyone suddenly intent on waxing eloquent about what a great guy Sven Sorenson was? She got it. She concurred. “Yes, he is.” And a heck of a kisser. In fact, she’d lain awake for hours reliving that kiss—still tingling, her thoughts and emotions tangling around her until the wee hours of the morning. She’d longed for the touch of his broad hands against her skin, the feel of his mouth against her neck, the scrape of his teeth against her flesh, the stroke of his tongue against her.

  Mr. Isn’t-He-A-Great-Guy Sorenson had been singularly responsible for the dark circles under her eyes this morning. And that more than proved her point that it was best to walk her path alone. It was far less complicated. And she wasn’t fond of sleepless nights tossing and turning in some ridiculous fever of want brought on by one, well, technically two, kisses.

  “His mom and dad booked a table for the play today. They’re coming.”

  Why in the world would that set off a storm of anxiety in the pit of her stomach? On multiple fronts the man was shaking her up, both directly and indirectly.

  “Oh, good. I’m…uh…I hope they enjoy it.”

  “Oh, Marge and Edgar will love it. And you’ll love them. They’re good people. Marge is over the moon with her first grandbaby, Tanya—Sven’s brother, Eric, and his wife, Darnita, had a baby right before Christmas. They’re crazy about that kid.”

  Couples in love…babies…families…it all seemed to be smacking her in the face suddenly. “That’s nice.”

  She didn’t really know what else to say. But she was getting the picture that the Sorensons were one big happy family of love and joy and tranquillity. She’d bet her bottom dollar none of them had ever broken all the dishes in the cupboard in a drunken rage while their kid looked on.

  Not that she wanted anything to do with her own dysfunctional familial unit, but people like the Sorensons always made her a little uncomfortable. It was as if they were all wearing clean white T-shirts while she had a big greasy stain smeared down the front of hers. She preferred to keep her dirty laundry to herself.

  She’d thought more than once that it would’ve been nice to have parents like Merrilee and Bull. Juliette had the feeling they’d have her back if she needed them, especially Merrilee.

  “Be prepared to ooh and aah over baby pictures, because Marge doesn’t go anywhere without her Nana Brag Book.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.” This entire conversation made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to know Sven’s parents were named Marge and Edgar. She didn’t want to know about Eric, Darnita and their cute bundle of joy, Tanya.

  She wanted Sven to remain just another person she saw in passing, just another resident who was handling the set design along with her. She didn’t want the details about his happy family. She didn’t want to be reminded that she’d never fit into that kind of dynamic. How could she, even if she wanted to? She had no experience with that.

  Merrilee reached to the table situated behind her and picked up a muffin with a napkin. “Here’s a carrot-raisin-bran muffin. Eat it. I know you’re not going to have time for dinner before rehearsal.”

  That was the kind of thing she loved about Merrilee. “Thanks. I think I am kind of hungry.” It had taken a while to get used to Merrilee’s mothering ways without feeling slightly smothered, but now it just felt good. Juliette simply hadn’t been used to anyone giving a damn whether or not she ate a meal or had a bed to sleep in.

  She bit into the muffin. It was the perfect blend of sweet carrots, plump raisins and hearty bran. “Yum.”

  “Have another one.” Merrilee was already reaching behind her.

  Juliette held up her hand. “This is fine. I’d better run or I’m going to be late.”

  “Enjoy your weekend off.”

  “Will do.”

  “Got plans?”

  “I’m going to work on some wind chimes that have been knocking around in my head.”

  Making chimes freed her mind and her spirit—the second-best thing to being up in the sky itself. Just her and her wind chimes and it would put Sven Sorenson firmly out of her mind because there was simply no place for Sven in her mind…or her life…and certainly not in her heart.

  * * *

  HEAVINESS WEIGHED DOWN Merrilee’s heart. Bull, his arm in a sling, pushed through the door and interrupted her melancholy. “Why the long face? Other than you’re aggravated with me?”

 
; She ran her finger over her lower lip, contemplating the woman who’d just walked out the front door. “Juliette…” Merrilee shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t help but worry about her.”

  Bull snagged a muffin and settled in the empty chair next to Merrilee’s desk. “Some people just keep to themselves, Merrilee. You know that by now. God knows, we see our share of them here in Alaska.”

  She poured him a cup of coffee—black—and passed it to him. He nodded in appreciation, his mouth full of muffin.

  “I know. And see, that’s the problem. I know how those people feel. It’s like they give off a certain energy. They really are perfectly content being an island unto themselves.” Still chewing, Bull nodded. “And I’d be fine with it if that’s the feeling I got from Juliette, but it’s not. I think that girl has surrounded herself with a thick wall of isolation to protect herself.”

  “Nothing, huh?”

  Juliette confounded and concerned Merrilee. “Two years she’s worked for me. From her employment application I know she’s from North Carolina. She lived in Raleigh for a while, then Anchorage. Her emergency contact is a woman named Sue Dickens in Anchorage. The only bit of personal information outside of that employment record is that her yard is full of wind chimes and whirligigs and she’s an air sign.”

  “Huh?”

  “An air sign. You know. She’s a Libra.”

  In the middle of chasing his muffin with coffee, Bull rolled his eyes at her. Merrilee rolled her eyes back at him and forged ahead. “It makes sense. She flies, she’s into wind chimes and whirligigs, she’s a thinker… She’s an air sign.”

  “Sure. Okay.”

  Talking about astrology always earned an eye roll from Bull. The man was obtuse and stubborn. Merrilee had shown him how perfectly their signs aligned but he remained a skeptic. She didn’t dare tell him Alberta had shared her psychic matchmaking and that the traveling Gypsy had confided Sven and Juliette were meant for one another. Bull liked Alberta, but he didn’t give her psychic abilities much weight. However, much like astrology, Merrilee had found Alberta to be pretty darned on the money. Hadn’t she told Merrilee back in the day Bull was the man for her? That had certainly turned out right enough. But he’d have to convince himself; she was done trying. She moved on conversationally to less esoteric ground.

  “Marge is worried. She’s afraid Juliette’s going to break Sven’s heart.”

  Bull bristled on Juliette’s behalf. That’s why Merrilee was still so hopelessly in love with him after twenty-five years. “She’s not that kind of woman.”

  “Oh, she wouldn’t break his heart on purpose. In fact, if she thought he was offering his heart, it’d probably scare her to death. Marge is worried about Juliette’s previous marriages. I have a feeling she knows about Juliette’s alcoholism as well, but I could hardly betray Juliette’s confidence by asking, and if Marge does know she would’ve been told in confidence. So, I think she knows, but I couldn’t bring it up and if she does know she couldn’t bring it up, so it wasn’t brought up. Regardless, I think the real issue is whether Juliette will allow herself to care about someone. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more in need of being loved than that girl.”

  “Gus?”

  “Even more than Gus. Gus had good years with her mother before she lost her. And the situation with Troy was terrible and frightening, but she knew her mother’s love.” Her goddaughter, Gus, had sought sanctuary in Good Riddance from an abusive, stalking fiancé a couple of years earlier. Gus had been traumatized, but she at least had a solid foundation under her that Merrilee didn’t think Juliette had ever known. “It’s more of what Juliette doesn’t say than what she does that leads me to believe she had a fairly dismal childhood.”

  “Honey, you can’t fix everyone’s problems.”

  “I know. But I can’t seem to stop trying.”

  “Then you’re about to be as happy as a pig in a mud pit. I walked over to tell you I got an email from my sister.”

  Bull was so removed from his sister, most of the time Merrilee forgot he had one. “Janie?”

  “I only have the one.” He never said what had happened between them and she never asked. If and when he wanted to tell, he’d tell. “My nephew Liam is heading this way.”

  They hadn’t seen Janie or her boys, twins Liam and Lars and the baby, Jack, in years. They only knew what was going on with them through occasional updates from Bull’s brother.

  “Oh, my goodness. When is he expected to arrive?”

  “No idea. I just know he’s on his way. He got on his motorcycle and rolled out yesterday.”

  Merrilee could do flexible. It helped to have time to prepare for visiting family, even if it was family they hadn’t seen in—she did a quick mental calculation—sixteen or so years. Liam had been fifteen or sixteen when they’d come out one summer. “He’s home on leave?” The last they’d heard he was in the army. “How long is he going to stay?”

  “He’s out of the military.”

  “Out?”

  Bull nodded. “Done. And he’s not just visiting. Janie says he’s moving here.”

  Merrilee wasn’t sure what to say. There was certainly more going on here than met the eye. “He’s just bringing himself and his motorcycle and he’s staying? I’ll hand it to him that he’s traveling light.”

  Bull nodded. “You know how Janie likes to be cryptic, but apparently he left the service on a medical discharge. Another lost lamb for your fold.”

  Despite his comment, Merrilee knew Bull was concerned about his nephew. Bull just wasn’t going to wear his feelings on his sleeve the way Merrilee did…nor did she want him to. That was her job in their relationship.

  * * *

  ALBERTA FELL INTO STEP beside Sven as he walked toward the community center.

  “What’s shaking, Sven?”

  He smiled. “Not a whole lot. What’s shaking on your end?”

  “The usual.” She winked at him as if they shared a great secret. “How’re things going with amore? How was dinner last night?”

  “You’ll have to use your psychic powers of divination, Alberta.”

  She shot him a gap-toothed grin and swatted at him with a tattered-lace folding fan. “Don’t get all sassy-mouthed with me. I detect a note of frustration and that’s not psychic divination, that’s deduction.” Her look was part sly triumph and part sympathy. “She’s not an easy one, is she?”

  “I told you she wasn’t my type.”

  “How late did you stay up researching addictions and addictive behaviors last night?”

  That stopped him in his tracks. Both parts of it—that she knew Juliette’s secret and that she knew he had been reading online until the wee hours of the morning about the disease.

  She patted his arm. “I know you thought I was a phony, but I’ve got the gift…actually, my third husband thought it was a curse. You were up pretty late, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He’d hung up the phone with his mom and found he simply couldn’t leave it alone. He’d wanted to know more about what it was Juliette dealt with. He wasn’t quite sure why and he didn’t particularly feel the need to examine the why too carefully. He shrugged. “Information is knowledge and knowledge is power.” He still wasn’t sure he believed in psychic abilities, but Alberta seemed to have some hellaciously deductive reasoning skills. “Okay, any sage words of advice?”

  “Slow and steady wins the race…and that’s what she’s going to require.”

  And on the off chance she did have some psychic abilities… “I guess I’m looking more for a psychic cheat sheet as to what’s going on in her head.”

  “Ah, once again you’re looking for the easy route and she’s not going to be easy, Sven. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

  That was precisely why he’d stayed away for so long. And as to why he wasn’t running like hell in the other direction now…well, he wasn’t altogether sure.

  “My mother is—”

  “Worried,�
�� she finished for him. “I know. She loves you and quite frankly everything’s always come fairly easy to you, hasn’t it? You’ve led a pretty charmed life. Perhaps your mother’s not as afraid of Juliette as she is of what might happen when your mettle is actually tested. And Juliette will test your mettle.”

  For about two seconds he considered taking offense, but the truth of the matter was he had led a somewhat charmed life. And was it his fault that things had come easy to him or for him?

  “No, it’s not your fault.” God, it was just freaky and invasive when she answered the questions tumbling around in his head. “Are you up to the task?”

  Sven didn’t automatically answer. Was he? While he’d like to say yes, he really wasn’t sure. Did he want to be? Or did he just want to walk away? Crazy as it seemed, even to him, walking away wasn’t an option. Sorenson family legend held that they’d descended from Vikings—as if there was a Swedish family around who didn’t want to claim a piece of that lore. But when you got past all the romantic claptrap, Vikings hadn’t been particularly nice guys. They were ruthless invaders, men of steel who lived by the sword. Was that in him?

  It was as if, standing in the middle of the sidewalk in Good Riddance with the May sun warming his shoulders, he could almost feel the forging of steel down his spine, through him, a resolve he’d never quite known before.

  He held his head a tad higher and straighter. “I believe I am up to the task.”

  She looked pleased. “You know it’s not just Juliette. Your parents may not support you.”

  He’d gotten a smidge of that last night on the phone with his mom. “Storming walls, scaling defenses, a relentless assault—sure, I’ve got it all in me.”

  Did he? Saying and doing were two different things. The truth was he’d sort of floated through life, no real responsibility. Sure, he had a job and he worked pretty steadily, but he liked not having to step up to any particular plate. Eric had always been the overachiever, whereas Sven had just drifted.

  Something zinged into his mind that he’d totally forgotten about. He’d been two years behind Eric, who had set a very high bar. It was third grade parent-teacher conferences. He had Mrs. Marberry, the same third-grade teacher who’d taught Eric. Sven had been out on the playground but run back in to the bathroom. He’d overheard Mrs. Marberry telling his parents that they shouldn’t expect as much out of Sven. She’d said he was a sweet boy and bright enough, but he didn’t have Eric’s potential. She’d suggested they not push him too hard, past his capabilities. Damn, he hadn’t thought about that in years.