The Marriage Risk

by Debbie Macomber

  “You’ve got to be joking.” Charles couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “I’ve got more important things on my mind.” Sawyer riffled through the papers on his desk and pulled out a packet of airline tickets. He kissed it, an expression of ecstasy on his face. “Two weeks in Hawaii—with my wife,” he said, closing his eyes. “I can’t imagine anything closer to heaven.”

  “What about the kids?”

  Sawyer grinned. “Abbey’s parents are taking them to Disneyland. Later Abbey and I will meet them there and we’ll fly home together.”

  Charles couldn’t really respond to his brother’s enthusiasm for Hawaii. He’d seen all he wanted of the outside world. Nothing held the lure or the beauty he’d found in Alaska.

  He’d let others do the traveling. There wasn’t anything he wanted that he couldn’t find right here in Hard Luck. Their father and grandfather had felt the same way. Even when it might’ve saved his marriage, David O’Halloran hadn’t been willing to move. As far as Charles was concerned, his father had made the only decision he could.

  He realized how cold and hard his feelings might seem. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his mother. He felt very protective of Ellen. He cared more than words could express for both of his parents. He missed David still, with a grief that hadn’t diminished in the years since his death. But he’d understood his father far better than he ever would his delicate English mother.

  “You look like you’re deep in thought,” Sawyer said, breaking into his musings.

  “Not really,” Charles muttered, not wanting to continue the discussion with his younger brother. He stood abruptly. “I just came by to tell you I’ve spent my day fending off the press.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “But you should know that nothing’s going to stop them from crashing your wedding.”

  Sawyer shrugged. “Then so be it.”

  If he lived to a hundred, Charles would never truly understand the changes he’d seen in his brother the past few weeks.

  * * *

  Stepping out of the trailer, Charles walked over to the Hard Luck Café, where Ben Hamilton served the freshest cup of coffee in town.

  Charles slid onto a bar stool and turned the mug right side up.

  Ben, who’d been a longtime friend and confidant, reached for the coffeepot. “Looks like you could use this.”

  “I could. Tell me something. Has everyone in town gone along with this crazy idea?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Bringing in women, what else? I’m in Valdez minding my own business, having a pretty decent day. Then I open the paper, and lo and behold there’s a picture of Sawyer—and another one of Christian. My brothers! There’s this article about some idiotic scheme of theirs—enticing women to move to Hard Luck.”

  “I’ve heard there are women in Anchorage who’re upset Christian didn’t take applications there.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “Nope. That’s what I heard,” Ben said, leaning against the counter. “You want anything with that coffee?”

  Charles shook his head, befuddled that the one person he’d expected to get a straight answer from was as caught up in this craziness as everyone else.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ben said. “It isn’t as bad as it seems.” The retired navy man—currently chief cook and bottle washer—returned to the kitchen, leaving Charles to his discontent.

  “By the way, did you see her?” Ben called out unexpectedly.

  “See who?”

  “The new gal in town. Pretty as a bug’s ear. She’s got long blond hair and a real cute nose. Young, though. Couldn’t be more than twenty-two, twenty-three. Duke flew her in earlier. Scott took her over to the office. Looks like she’s the new secretary Christian hired. I wish we’d known she was coming. I would’ve baked a cake to welcome her. Seems all this town can talk about these days is Sawyer and Abbey’s wedding.” He paused, rubbing the side of his jaw. “Fact is, I can’t remember the last time there was a wedding here. Can you?”

  “No,” Charles barked and slid off the stool. No matter where he went, he couldn’t escape it. Even Ben had lost his grip on the real world. It was as if every male within a two-hundred-mile radius couldn’t think about anything other than romance. They were all waiting for love to strike—but they didn’t realize how undignified they’d look with Cupid’s arrow sticking out of their rear ends!

  “So you haven’t met her?”

  “No,” Charles answered.

  “Do you know where she’s staying, then?”

  “Haven’t got a clue.”

  Ben frowned. “I hope someone showed her around. I’d hate for her to think we aren’t hospitable.”

  In that case, Charles thought, he’d make a special point of staying away from this latest arrival.

  Still grumbling, he left the café. He walked toward his house, intent on finding a moment’s privacy, when he heard someone call his name.

  “Charles, look!”

  He turned to see nine-year-old Scott Sutherland pumping away on an old bicycle that had belonged to Sawyer. Behind him, standing with her suitcase in the dirt, was a blond woman. No doubt the one Ben had mentioned.

  The wind whipped her long hair about her face. She wore a sleeveless, pale blue summer dress. The straw sun hat perched on her head, a bright yellow daisy attached to the front, suited her perfectly.

  Eagle Catcher raced at Scott’s side, barking.

  Charles waved, fighting the urge to smile, and turned away.

  “Wait up,” Scott called. “You gotta meet Lanni.”

  Charles had no desire to be introduced to the latest instance of his brothers’ folly. He buried his hands in his pockets and increased his pace.

  “Uncle Charles!”

  That got to him. He was about to become an uncle—and he hadn’t even realized it. Scott would soon be his nephew. He liked Scott, so the thought appealed to him. He turned back.

  “Hello,” Lanni said, walking toward them.

  “Hello.” Ben was right. She was pretty. Her whole face seemed to sparkle. Her eyes were blue, their color enhanced by her dress. Her mouth was wide and expressive, curved in an expectant smile.

  “Charles O’Halloran,” he said, thrusting out his hand. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of staring.

  She blinked once, then placed her hand in his. “Lanni Caldwell.” She seemed to be waiting for him to say something more—yet she looked relieved when he didn’t.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Charles.”

  “You, too.” The full force of that smile was leveled on him. Charles frowned. He didn’t like this sensation, whatever it was. Nor was he keen on making small talk with a stranger.

  “Mom’s having Lanni over for dinner tonight,” Scott announced. “Do you wanna come?”

  Did he? Charles couldn’t believe he was actually considering the invitation. “Sorry, I’ve got other plans,” he muttered, before he could find a reason to change his mind.

  “Mrs. Inman and Dotty’ll be there.”

  “Sorry,” he said again. “I wish I could.” Charles managed to look disappointed, or so he thought until he caught the twinkle in Lanni’s eye. She knew. She could see straight through him.

  “If you don’t come, I think Mom’ll invite Duke,” Scott said, sounding disappointed. “She left a message on your answering machine and asked you to call her back. Where’ve you been all afternoon?”

  “Busy.” This didn’t seem the moment to explain that he’d spent most of the day fighting off the news media. Aside from his instinctive urge to stay away from Lanni Caldwell, that had left him in no mood for a dinner party. “Another time,” he said. “Uh, see you around, Lanni.”

  “Bye, Charles.”

  A couple of hours later, Charles regretted turning down the best invitation he’d had in weeks. What on earth was wrong with him?

  Wanting to kick himself, he decided to eat at Ben’s. He
walked out of the house just in time to see Duke strolling toward Christian’s house, where Abbey and the kids were temporarily living. The bush pilot’s hair was slickly combed into place, and he wore a clean shirt. Even from this distance, Charles could smell the other man’s aftershave. Duke must’ve doused himself from head to foot with spice-and rum-scented cologne.

  Charles found himself glaring at Duke as they made their way down opposite sides of the street. He was angry with the pilot for no reason he could name.

  Ben usually offered a decent meal, but Charles might’ve been eating sawdust for all the pleasure his spaghetti dinner gave him.

  “You want another piece of garlic bread?” Ben asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  “You don’t seem to have much of an appetite this evening.”

  “I had a big lunch.” It was a slight stretch of the truth.

  “You interested in playing a little cribbage?” Ben asked.

  Charles nodded. Wasting an hour or two with his old friend sounded a lot better than spending what remained of the evening alone, wondering what was going on at his brother’s house.

  Before long, the two men faced each other across one of the small tables. Neither said much. Conversation wasn’t really necessary when they sat down to play. They’d done this often enough through the years.

  “You thinking about opening the lodge?” Ben asked him out of the blue.

  “The lodge? Why? What brings that up?” The lodge had once been the largest building in Hard Luck. It’d been filled with tourists eager to explore the Alaskan interior. His father had owned and operated the business, but that, like so much else, had died with him.

  Later a fire had destroyed part of the building. Repairing it now would be a costly, time-consuming affair. He hadn’t the heart for it. Apparently Sawyer and Christian didn’t, either, because neither of them had said anything about getting the place fixed up.

  “It’d be a good idea to open the lodge, wouldn’t it?” Ben persisted, moving his peg forward after counting his cards. “All the women coming to town—they need a place to live. Those cabins might work in the summer, but you can’t expect greenhorn women to last the winter there, can you?”

  Charles wasn’t even going to think about that. Where the “imported” women lived wasn’t his concern. “Why don’t you ask Sawyer or Christian what they plan to do?”

  Ben looked directly at him, his expression as serious as Charles had ever seen it. “I’m asking you.”

  “Then you’re asking the wrong guy. It wasn’t me who enticed those women to move north. According to Christian, these gals all knew what they were getting themselves into. Far be it from me to interfere with my brothers’ schemes.”

  “If you say so,” Ben muttered.

  Charles lost the game on a fluke. He had good card sense, and it wasn’t like him to make stupid mistakes. He left soon afterward.

  He was walking home, staring down at the ground, and when he looked up, he saw Lanni Caldwell. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. She saw him, too, and her eyes rose to meet his. For an instant he was mesmerized by the warmth she exuded.

  She smiled.

  Without thinking, he smiled in return.

  There was nothing coy in their exchange. Nothing flirtatious. She didn’t blink or sweep her lashes downward or blush like a shy schoolgirl. He didn’t bother to camouflage his interest.

  Neither did she.

  “Evening, Charles.”

  Duke Porter’s voice caught him by surprise. For the first time he noticed that Lanni wasn’t alone. Duke had been a few feet behind and had now drawn even with Lanni.

  “Evening,” Charles said gruffly, and moved on. He passed them and had taken two, possibly three, steps when he turned around.

  At the same moment, Lanni cast a glance over her shoulder and turned, too.

  Once more their eyes met.

  Then, as if she felt the urgent need to escape, Lanni whirled around and hurried to catch up with Duke.

  With his heart in his throat, Charles walked straight past his own house and continued until he reached Christian’s. Sawyer stood on the front porch, wearing a cocky grin.

  “All right,” Charles said with ill grace. “Tell me about her.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “Who am I supposed to tell you about?” Sawyer asked.

  Charles hated the smug look on his brother’s face. Sawyer was going to make him suffer before giving him the information he wanted.

  “You know who I mean!” Charles snapped.

  “You don’t by any chance mean Lanni Caldwell, do you?”

  “Yes,” Charles said impatiently, “I do.”

  Striking a casual pose, Sawyer leaned against the porch railing and folded his arms. He was clearly enjoying this more than necessary. “What do you want to know?”

  “First, what’s she doing in Hard Luck?”

  Sawyer seemed to consider the question. “For the moment she’s working as my secretary.”

  Charles didn’t question the “for the moment” part. “She’s not staying in one of those dilapidated cabins, is she?”

  “No. As a matter of fact, Catherine Fletcher has agreed to let us rent her house. Lanni’s living there.”

  That was a relief. Those pitiful excuses for cabins hadn’t been used in years. Charles knew that his brothers and their crew of bush pilots, as well as some of the townsfolk, had worked hard to clean them, but Charles didn’t like the idea of Lanni—or anyone else—living in them. Furthermore, he didn’t want Lanni sleeping outside town, away from everything and everyone, particularly on her first night. People seemed to conveniently forget there were dangers lurking about, especially to someone unfamiliar with life this far north.

  “Are you saying you’re…romantically interested in Lanni?” Sawyer asked in the smooth easy drawl he used when he knew he had the upper hand. “You don’t realize…”

  “Realize what?”

  “Never mind.” Sawyer had a smug look on his face—a look that meant he knew something his brother didn’t. Charles refused to play his game.

  “You’re attracted to Lanni,” Sawyer said now. “Remember what I told you about tempting the fates? I love it. I absolutely love it.”

  Charles gave a short, derisive laugh. “How could I be attracted to the woman? I don’t even know her. I only want to make sure nothing happens to her. The one thing we don’t need is more bad press.”

  “You weren’t this concerned when you first met Abbey.”

  “Sure I was,” Charles said defensively. “I offered her airfare home, didn’t I? I was worried about her and the kids—the same way I’m worried about Lanni…whatever her name is.”

  Sawyer lowered his head in an unsuccessful attempt to hide a knowing grin. Charles hated to think his brother could read him that easily. Apparently his sudden interest in Lanni was as clear as glacial runoff.

  “Lanni seems like a sweet kid,” Charles added, trying to justify his concern. He feared, however, that he was only digging himself in deeper. “I don’t want to see anything happen to her,” he insisted. “That’s all.”

  “She’s not a kid, Charles. She’s a woman.”

  Remembering the almost dizzying attraction he’d experienced moments earlier, Charles didn’t need to be reminded of that.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea for Duke to be walking her home?” he asked a little anxiously.

  Sawyer laughed outright. “She’ll be fine.”

  Charles let his gaze follow the road to the point where he’d last seen Lanni. It wasn’t entirely that he didn’t trust Duke Porter. His main objection, he had to admit, was that Lanni was spending time with another man. And that wasn’t even logical.

  Something was wrong. Charles barely knew Lanni, and here he was, jealous because someone else had walked her home. He’d better leave before he made a complete fool of himself over a woman who was just a stranger. And too young for him, besides.

  “See you in the
morning,” Charles told his brother abruptly. He stepped off the porch and made it all the way to the gate before Sawyer called him.

  “There’s more to Lanni Caldwell than meets the eye.”

  Charles said nothing, although he’d already decided the same thing for himself.

  “She’s intelligent and witty and has a wonderful heart.”

  “A wonderful heart” was an expression their grandmother had used. He’d almost forgotten it. Anna O’Halloran had a talent for seeing the good in others. She’d always described those who were generous and caring as having a wonderful heart. Perhaps that was what Charles had sensed when he’d met Lanni. Her wonderful heart.

  “I wish you’d cancelled your plans and joined us for dinner,” Sawyer added.

  Sawyer wasn’t the only one who regretted that decision. Charles nodded, which was all the admission he was willing to make. Once again he set out for his own place.

  “Charles?”

  Sighing, he turned back.

  Sawyer was grinning again. “Are you going to offer Lanni Caldwell airfare home?”

  * * *

  Abbey Sutherland joined her husband-to-be on the front porch. He slipped his arm around her waist and bent down to kiss her. Even now, it didn’t seem possible that she and Sawyer would be married in such a short time. They’d come so close to losing each other.

  “Was that Charles I heard you talking to?” she asked.

  Sawyer answered her with a distracted nod. “He met Lanni. He doesn’t know she’s related to Catherine. I should’ve told him, but I want my brother to see her for herself. I want him to judge her as the woman she is, rather than as a member of the family that brought so much pain to ours.”

  Abbey rested her cheek against his chest. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

  He rubbed his hand down the length of Abbey’s arm. “I like Lanni.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “Yes,” he said, “in a way it does.”

  “She’s a lovely person.”

  “I know,” Sawyer agreed quickly. “It’s just that I find it hard to believe someone as nice as Lanni Caldwell could be related to Catherine Fletcher.” Then, almost in afterthought, he said, “My diehard bachelor brother is attracted to her. He’s having enough trouble admitting that. If he found out about Lanni’s relationship to Catherine, his interest would shrivel up and die. I don’t want that to happen. I have a feeling Lanni’s the one for him. And she might just teach my arrogant brother a lesson or two.”