“Why do you think you have to do anything?”
Jack was confused. “Are you saying I shouldn’t?”
“I’m asking what prevents you from doing the same thing you’ve been doing?”
Jack knew the answer, although he wasn’t willing to say it out loud.
It was Elizabeth.
She was the earthquake that had shaken him to his core, stirred up a potent mix of guilt and protectiveness and—dammit—a more powerful physical desire than he could remember experiencing for any woman before.
Elizabeth, with her innocent blue eyes and slender curves and tough-girl attitude, had caused cracks to run all the way to Jack’s carefully-built foundation.
7
The next afternoon, Elizabeth took the public bus downtown, carrying with her a pan of homemade Butterfinger cookie dough cheesecake brownies that the other passengers glanced at with envy.
They were for April Flattery, her longtime friend who worked as a stylist at the Mane Event, the boutique salon on Main Street. It was April’s husband who’d towed Elizabeth’s car, and April had offered to let Elizabeth borrow hers, but Elizabeth had refused—she wasn’t above public transportation, although with the temperature that week hitting a high of negative two degrees Fahrenheit, waiting for the bus made Elizabeth wish she had enough money for ride-sharing services.
She stepped into the cozy hair salon and smiled to see Claire Roberts sitting in April’s styling chair. Claire had long owned the building that housed the trendy Sled Dog Brewery where Elizabeth worked. A few years back, Claire had bought the business itself when its original owner needed to move back to the Lower Forty-Eight to care for aging parents. As such, Claire was technically Elizabeth’s boss—more precisely, she was her boss’s boss. Elizabeth was glad about it because her immediate boss, Mark Volkoff, was untrustworthy in a cagey, hard-to-pinpoint way.
Claire, on the other hand, was known for her fair-minded ways. She loved Golden Falls like it was the child she’d never had and poured herself and her considerable self-made wealth into efforts to make it Alaska’s most charming and modern small city. Thanks in large part to Claire’s efforts, it was now a must-stop destination for the millions of visitors who flocked to Alaska each year.
Perhaps best of all, Claire never made Elizabeth feel less-than for being an Armstrong.
“Elizabeth!” she said as Elizabeth came into the beauty shop. “How are you on this fine, frigid day?”
“I’m fine and frigid, Claire,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “And you?”
“Oh, I’m toasty warm. I’m getting caught up on all the gossip thanks to April.”
Elizabeth laughed and inspected April’s work. “Are you going darker with your hair?”
“Just a shade or two,” Claire said.
Fifty-something—Claire was coy about her exact age—and attractive, with sharp blue eyes and a trim, fashionable figure, she had the energy of someone half her age. Elizabeth knew she did a major spa and shopping weekend in Seattle twice a year but otherwise trusted April to keep her hair nicely styled.
Elizabeth gave April a quick hug. “I made these as a thank you for your husband.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet!” April said. “And totally unnecessary, as I hope you know. We’re just glad you’re okay.”
“I know Chris likes these,” Elizabeth said. “And he did have to come out in the middle of the night for me. It’s the least I can do.”
“What happened?” Claire asked. “Car break down?”
“Something like that,” Elizabeth said. “By the way, April, you didn’t tell me you lived on the same street as Jack Barnes! He’s dreamy.”
“Ooh, yes, he is!” Claire said, which made both April and Elizabeth laugh. “Both of those Barnes boys are.”
“You know them?” Elizabeth asked her.
“Oh, sure. I’ve known their dad forever. He was ahead of me in school, but we’ve interacted for years on city business.” She smiled. “He makes a mean Jell-O shot. Alice Abbott and I got a bit tanked at my Thanksgiving party this past year thanks to Bruce’s Jell-O shots.”
Elizabeth and April laughed.
“I heard about that,” Elizabeth said.
“From who? Hayley?” asked Claire.
“Yep, that was the day she got dumped by the guy she was starting to see—what was his name? The new manager over at the Moondance Theater?”
“Evan Taylor,” Claire said.
“That’s right,” Elizabeth said. “He broke things off with her at your party because Josh had totally given away at Singles Night that he had feelings for Hayley.”
“Were you there? Did you see it?” April asked.
“I did,” Elizabeth said. “I was bartending. I guess it all worked out for the best, though, didn’t it?”
“How did you happen to meet Jack Barnes?” Claire asked.
“He was one of the firefighters who came out to the accident scene, right?” April asked Elizabeth. “And then he came out to your house afterward?”
“Accident? What accident?” Claire said.
“Long story, nothing major,” Elizabeth said, not wanting to get into it. Because of Emmett’s involvement, she couldn’t tell the truth about what happened, and she didn’t want to lie, so it was best not to talk about it at all. “But hence the tow truck.”
“Elizabeth, if you have time, I can do your hair for you,” April said. “I just had a cancellation, and I don’t have any more appointments this afternoon.”
Elizabeth glanced down at her dark ombre ends, which were looking decidedly scraggly. She thought of Jack, his masculine-yet-stylish way of dressing, the older-man confidence of him. She thought of the type of woman who might catch his eye and suspected it probably wasn’t a rocker chick who looked like a scrawny teenager.
“I have time,” she said. “I don’t have to be at hockey practice until four, and I think I’m ready to ditch the ombre.”
“A new hairstyle is always fun,” Claire said, smiling at her. “Especially when there’s a dreamy man to impress.”
Elizabeth looked through magazines while April finished Claire’s hair and waved goodbye when Claire left.
“Now, sit,” April said, pointing at the chair. “I want to hear more about you and Jack Barnes while I fix you up with a sexy new hairstyle.”
“Sexy is good,” Elizabeth said, feeling the hot prickle of a blush on her cheeks at the mere mention of Jack, but she did as April said and got ready for some quality boy-talk with her oldest friend.
A few hours later, Elizabeth got a ride home from April to pick up her hockey gear and then to the ice rink where the Golden Falls Youth Hockey League practiced and played. Most of the coaches were volunteers, but Claire Roberts, who was the league’s main financial benefactor and knew how tight money was for Elizabeth, had insisted on paying her a small stipend.
Elizabeth had accepted out of necessity. Even so, she resolved to coach for free one day and looked forward to being in a position in her life where she could help others without needing anything in return.
Arriving at the rink, she waved to the girls on the team, who were a mixture of ages and races and economic backgrounds. The youngest was twelve, the oldest sixteen. Quite a few were homeschoolers or Native Alaskans who bussed in from the outlying reservations. For them, the Golden Falls league was their only opportunity to play, and Elizabeth loved that despite their economic disadvantage, they could participate and compete along with everyone else.
When Elizabeth was young, after her dad went to prison, someone had done the same for her. An unknown benefactor had paid for her hockey lessons and equipment all the way through high school. She and Emmett never learned who it was. Elizabeth had always wondered if it was Claire; it seemed like something she would do.
The boys team was just finishing their practice, and as Elizabeth was sitting on the sidelines lacing up her skates, a figure stopped in front of her. She looked up.
“Hey, Sean!” she said, feeling an instant ne
rvousness. It was the first time she’d seen Sean Kelly since Emmett had driven her Bronco off the highway, and she was embarrassed about how things had gone down. “I’m sorry about the other night. You guys were all so nice, and I owe you big time.”
“Not at all,” Sean said. “It’s our job. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He peered at her. “You are okay, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Elizabeth said. “Better than the last time you saw me, that’s for sure.”
And I’m even better since your fellow firefighter Jack came to my house and arranged to fix my car and shoveled my walkway and made sure my lately-a-loser brother got himself tended to.
She wondered if Sean knew about Jack’s visit to her house, which to her had felt special, like something he’d done just for her. But for all she knew, maybe Jack followed up with all the people he helped. Maybe bringing them cinnamon buns from the North Star Café was his signature thing.
She hoped not. She hoped he’d done it just for her.
“Mind if I sit for a second?” Sean asked.
Elizabeth scooted over on the bench. “Not at all.”
He sat down, began unlacing his skates, and then glanced at her. “You changed your hair.”
“It was time.”
“It looks nice.”
Elizabeth was pleased. “You think?”
“Yeah, it’s, um … softer?” He shrugged like he couldn’t find the precise word. “More … delicate or something?”
“Thanks,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. The words soft and delicate had probably never been used to describe her before. Even so, she hoped Sean was right. April had cut about six inches off, ditched the black ends, and changed the leftover blond from a brassy tone to a warm, golden one.
“By the way, Jack Barnes has been asking about you.”
Sean was looking down, undoing his laces, but what he said was so exciting, so startling, that Elizabeth felt compelled to elbow him so he’d look up.
“Are you serious?” Elizabeth’s stomach did a somersault. “He asked about me?”
Sean’s green eyes sparkled. “You bet he did. After we got called out on that accident, he wanted to know more about you.” He gave her his trademark easy grin. “Don’t worry, I only told him good stuff.”
“You better have!” Elizabeth matched his teasing tone. “So what did he want to know?”
“Mainly if you were single.”
“Seriously!?” Her stomach did more somersaulting. “Why do you think he asked you that?”
“Uh, maybe because he thinks you’re hot?”
“But I’m not,” she said. “I’m the opposite of hot.”
“You mean cold? That’s just because you’re at an ice rink,” Sean joked. “But, seriously, don’t tell me guys aren’t hitting on you left and right at the Sled Dog.”
“That doesn’t count,” Elizabeth said. “That’s just because of the pathetic male-to-female ratio in Alaska.”
“No, it’s not.” Sean made a point of catching her gaze. “Everyone I know thinks you’re pretty cool. And pretty hot. Everyone thinks you’re pretty all-around.”
She felt a blush spread across her face. “Really?”
He peered at her. “You honestly don’t know that guys think you’re hot?”
“I honestly don’t, no.”
All she knew was that for years and years, the guys who hit on her were not the most desirable guys around. Admittedly, with her family’s reputation being what it was, her early so-called love life had been littered with losers. If her self-esteem had been higher, she never would have given most of those guys the time of day. She’d had one good boyfriend, one decent guy, but he’d already signed up to join the Coast Guard when they met and so the relationship didn’t last very long. Still, it had made her resolve to raise her standards where men were concerned, and for that she’d be ever thankful. He’d left Golden Falls this past summer, and she hadn’t dated anyone since.
“You should ask him out,” Sean said. “Jack, I mean.”
“No!” Elizabeth said, aghast. She finished lacing her skates and stood up. “I could never!”
“Too old-fashioned to make the first move?”
“It’s not that,” she said. “It’s that Jack Barnes would never have anything to do with me. He’s a lot older, he’s accomplished in his career, and he comes from a respectable family. Someone like him would never go for someone like me.”
Sean shook his head. “Guys don’t care about stuff like that.”
Elizabeth knew better. “Oh, yes, they do.”
“Not good guys,” Sean said. “Decent guys only care about how you make them feel, and obviously Jack felt something or he wouldn’t have asked about you.” He paused. “Jack might also care if you can bake. The guy’s got a hell of a sweet tooth.”
Elizabeth was delighted to hear it. “I can bake, actually! I make a mean batch of Butterfinger cookie dough cheesecake brownies.”
Sean’s comical jaw-gaping made her laugh.
“Make him those,” he said. “Whatever it was you just said. Yeah. Do that. Take them over to his house and let him see your fancy new hairstyle.”
“I don’t even know where he lives. And it would be presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“Not at all,” Sean said. “Trust me, he’d love it. I’ll text you his address right now.”
Elizabeth bit her lower lip. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Like our hockey guru Wayne Gretzky says, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.” Sean clapped a friendly hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder as he stood up. “So take a shot. What have you got to lose? The universe rewards the brave—so be brave.”
8
The next day, Elizabeth sat in April’s borrowed car with a pan of warm-out-of-the-oven Butterfinger cookie dough cheesecake brownies on her lap, trying to summon the courage to deliver them. She was parked on the street next to a fresh-plowed snowbank, debating whether to make the turn into Jack’s driveway. It was the last moment she could decide whether to go back into town and get on with her life or to take Sean Kelly’s advice and try to win Jack’s heart with her delectable dessert.
The previous night after hockey practice, Elizabeth had gone to work at the Sled Dog and made sure to have a long chat with Hayley March. It had been Singles Night, and Hayley always came early enough to visit with Elizabeth before kicking off her matchmaker hosting duties. Because Hayley was dating Josh Barnes, Jack’s younger brother, Elizabeth probed her for information about Jack. She learned that while Hayley thought Jack was a great guy, he had some mysterious rift with his father and had barely spoken to him in years.
Elizabeth had been surprised to learn there was bad blood between them because her impression of both Jack and Bruce was that they were unfailingly decent men. A tiny, shameful part of her was glad to hear of the rift because it meant the Barnes family wasn’t perfect.
Coming from the most imperfect of families herself, she always felt a bit awkward around happy, loving families. Even when her family had still been together, things hadn’t been great. Her parents fought often and loudly, and reasonable disagreements were not something she’d often seen. As a result, she frequently found herself cringing when discussions got prickly because she expected explosions similar to what had occurred in her own family. To that day, she was amazed when disagreements smoothed themselves out, when life went on without a mean word or raised voice. Happy families didn’t seem real—even as she wanted desperately to be part of one.
As she sat in the car, Elizabeth found herself shaking from nerves. She could see Jack’s house from the road, and it was intimidating. She’d expected it to be like Chris and April’s—middle-class modest of the sort a police officer or firefighter typically owned. But his home and property were substantial and seemed to contain a small business, too. A hand-carved wooden sign dangled from a post at the front of the driveway welcoming guests to the Caribou Vacation Cabins.
The main house was a
large modified A-frame style, definitely of the log-cabin luxury sort. Set somewhat close to the road, it made a commanding sight, especially when she looked at the older home next door, which was part of Pickens Stables. Jack’s was the last house on the road, and the property’s long line of pine trees provided the land behind with a sight buffer from the road and had clearly been planted to do so. Beautiful though the trees were, they just proved how established he was in comparison to her. He’d been living here long enough to plant the trees and for them to grow tall.
Jack was definitely out of her league, and she was embarrassed anew that he’d seen her dilapidated house.
“He’s a Barnes, and you’re an Armstrong,” she lectured herself aloud. “It’s never going to happen between you, so just take him the stupid brownies and thank him for being so kind when he could easily have been cruel.”
She pulled the car into the driveway, knuckles gripping the steering wheel, determined to go through with her gesture and be done.
The previous night, Jack had dreamt of Elizabeth.
In the dream, snow had been falling. The northern lights glowed behind her, purple and blue, and stars sprinkled the sky. She stood alone on the highway in the vastness of the world, and unlike the night of the accident, there was no crippled SUV in the ditch and no firefighters to the rescue and no deception in her eyes.
It was just Elizabeth, and she looked different—softer, older somehow, maybe a future version of herself, and he sensed she was someone essential to him. In the dream, she looked up at the northern lights and said, “Take me home, Jack.”
He’d woken with a start, both touched and terrified, and when he turned over in bed to find an empty expanse of cold sheets, he felt a peculiar sadness. Like he’d been expecting Elizabeth to be there beside him.
But why would she be there?
His family’s secret had destroyed her family, broken it apart.
He’d stayed silent on something that was impossible to forgive, and Elizabeth had no idea.
From The Ashes (Golden Falls Fire Book 3) Page 5