"Yeah, I'm here. And I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine. Listen, I can be there in thirty minutes. We'll have an early lunch and talk about it."
"I haven't had breakfast yet."
"Good, neither have I. We'll make it a brunch then."
"Tern, you don't need to do this. I'm fine, really."
"I'm still coming. Be there soon." Tern hung up, and Trixie was left holding the phone. Guess she should jump in the shower and get ready for the day.
Thirty minutes later she was answering her door dressed in her usual jeans and layered knit tops that she could dress up with a scarf for the bookstore or dress down for the bar. Today's pick was a bright sunny yellow hoping the color would help lighten her mood and remind her that the sun would shine again come summer. Winters in Alaska were a trial. Not just in cold temperatures and unending snow, but increased darkness, which tended to take the cold and snow and blanket them in depression.
Tern Maiski entered wearing designer boots that went to her knees with a sleek black wool coat, topped with a multi-hued silk scarf in greens and blues. Soft black leather gloves covered her hands. She was about as chic as anyone Trixie had seen in Alaska. Her Athabascan heritage gave her an exotic look with her almond dark eyes and thick black hair that she highlighted with auburn streaks. She was stunning and one of the most giving people Trixie had ever met.
When Trixie had the idea to expand into the gift market, Tern was who she'd sought out for advice. She connected her with Gemma Star, the owner of Chinook Books in Fairbanks, and the three of them had become fast friends.
"I called Gemma. She's on her way, too, and bringing food. I doubt you have anything here besides coffee."
"I might have crackers...possibly cheese."
"That's what I thought. You need to hire someone to shop for you since you won't take time to do it yourself."
"I have the bakery downstairs and the bar to eat at. There is no need to shop for food I won't eat."
"Look at you. I swear you've lost more weight since I saw you last."
Trixie glanced down at herself. "No, I haven't." Had she? Her jeans had slipped on easier than they should now that she thought about it. Hmm, maybe she should take more care with her diet. She'd gotten into the habit of drinking her calories and snacking throughout the day. She was just too busy to take time to eat a full meal. The thought of all the food chewing made her tired.
"Do we need to have another talk?" Tern unbuttoned her coat and hung it up. She took her gloves off finger by finger, every motion smooth and graceful.
"No, Mom," Trixie muttered. "Want some coffee?" She moved into the kitchen knowing Tern wouldn’t say no.
"Uh...no. Do you have any tea?"
"Tea?" She stopped and turned in disbelief. "You?"
"I'm trying to limit my caffeine."
"Why ever for?" The idea was ludicrous. Trixie wouldn't be able to function like she did without an abundance of caffeine. She opened the cupboard and found some peppermint tea that seemed agreeable to Tern. She heated water, and her reservations melted away.
Maybe this was a good idea. Both Tern and Gemma weren't the type to gossip or judge. This might be a safe place where she could hash out her problems and get some trusted advice. She'd always been the one to take care of people, and Tern and Gemma could take care of themselves. They were the only people in Trixie's life who didn't require anything more from her than friendship.
It was refreshing.
There was another knock at the door, and Gemma let herself in. Gemma was the exact opposite of Tern. Where Tern was sleek with long lines, Gemma was alive with curves and color. Her auburn hair and hippy upbringing shined through with her organic materials and warm sweaters in winter that would be discarded for bamboo skirts in summer.
"I brought food," Gemma said, setting bags on the table that Trixie never used other than to drop things on. Gemma didn't miss a beat as she stacked items at the end of the table to make room for them to eat.
Trixie poured Gemma a cup of coffee and set down Tern's tea on the table while Tern gathered plates, silverware, and napkins. She never forgot the napkins. It must be one of those ingrained things, Trixie guessed, as her family owned and operated the Chatanika lodge. Trixie couldn't remember the last meal she'd eaten with a napkin or silverware for that matter.
"I brought quiche and berries with cinnamon rolls from Buns on the Run." Gemma unpacked the items, and the smells escaped, causing Trixie's stomach to growl.
"Oh, Gemma, I could kiss you." Trixie took a seat and reached for the cinnamon roll first.
"No, you don't." Tern took the cinnamon roll and handed her a quiche. "Eat that first."
"You are getting really bossy." Trixie looked at Tern and then Gemma who had a knowing smile on her face. "What? Something up?"
"This isn't about me, we're here for you," Tern said. "My news can wait."
"Are you crazy? No it can't, now that I know there is news. Give."
"Tell her, Tern. You know you won't be able to help yourself anyway."
"She knows and I don't? I'm starting to take this personally."
"Well, Gemma guessed when I had to run for the bathroom to throw up."
"Throw up—you're pregnant?"
Tern flushed with happiness and nodded. "About six weeks. I see the doctor in a few days to confirm, but the pregnancy test was positive."
"Well, no wonder you're mothering the life out of me." Trixie jumped to her feet and grabbed Tern in a hug. "I'm so happy for you and Gage. This is just wonderful. So, let's see, that means you will be delivering in August?" Trixie counted the months on her fingers.
"Roughly, sometime in August, I think. The doctor's visit will give us a due date."
"A summertime baby! We'll have to plan a baby shower, do the nursery, and—"
"Whoa. I'm just trying to get through the morning sickness. One thing at a time. I can't think that far ahead. "
"Sorry, it's just so...exciting. A baby." Tears popped up in Trixie's eyes.
Tern took the quiche from Trixie and handed her the cinnamon roll. "Maybe you need this more than I thought. No, don't worry, we'll have lots of time to gush about babies. Right now, we're here for you. Tell us everything."
"Yes, everything," Gemma said, leaning in.
There went her good mood, and her appetite. The cinnamon roll sitting in front of her had her remembering the taste of Logan last night, and her skin heated.
She quickly ran down what happened, from Logan showing up just after the bar opened and then staying until closing. They didn't know she and Logan were married, and suddenly Trixie badly wanted to tell someone. She'd never told another soul. It wasn't a matter of trust. It was a matter of truth. If she said the words out loud, then her eight year marriage would become a reality.
"What happened when you were alone with him," Gemma asked, tearing off bits of her cinnamon roll and slowly eating them as though riveted.
"He kissed me."
"Oh, I knew that was coming," Tern said. She'd abandoned her food and sipped her peppermint tea, most likely to help combat the morning sickness.
A prickle of jealousy intruded. Trixie had always wanted kids of her own. She'd been discarded by her mother when she was a toddler. Luckily Aunt Faye had taken her in and raised her. Trixie didn't know who her father was and had only seen her mother fleetingly during her growing up years. Last Trixie had heard, she was somewhere in Florida. Faye had never married and so Trixie had grown up as an only child. Logan had been an only child too. His father had been killed in Iraq when he was little and the following parade of stepfathers had never provided siblings. Both of them had wanted a big family, lots of children to love with a mother and father who were committed to each other and them. The dream was nice, but not realistic—two dysfunctional kids wanting the stability and normalcy that was shown on television. Chances were the dream didn't really exist for anyone.
"Hon, what is it?" Gemma laid her hand over Trixie's.
> "I need to tell you guys something." She took a deep breath to gather her courage. "Something that I have never told anyone else. This doesn't leave this room, okay. You don't even tell your husbands. Promise me."
Tern and Gemma shared a worried look and then they promised.
Trixie rubbed at her face, not believing she was actually going to admit this. "Logan and I are...kinda married."
There was silence and then a flurry of whats, whens, hows, and one worried oh dear from Gemma.
She figured it would be good to start at the beginning. "We eloped eight years ago."
"Eight years? Gemma said. "You've been married all this time and never told anyone? Oh, honey."
"I've tried to get it annulled, but Logan won't sign the papers."
"And now he's back and expecting you to be a wife?" Tern stated. "Just like that? Why that bastard."
Trixie smiled, appreciating how quick they were to come to her defense. "Right?"
"Where was he during all this time?" Tern continued, not needing an answer as she got worked up on Trixie's behalf. "Gallivanting around the globe not being a husband, that's for sure."
"Well, technically fighting for our country," Trixie couldn’t help but point out.
"Wait, go back," Gemma said. "If you've been married eight years, you eloped right out of high school?"
"Just about. I was eighteen, and Logan had just turned nineteen. We'd talked of getting married and making plans to do that in the summer after a year of college and figuring out where we were going to live. Logan wanted out of town in a bad way, but I didn't want to leave. I couldn't do that to Faye. Not after all she'd done for me." Couldn’t abandon this town she loved for the unknown. "Logan and his stepfather didn't get along and things were...bad." She'd seen the bruises, knew there was more going on at home than Logan would admit.
"So, how'd he get you to marry him?" Tern asked.
"I was more malleable back then. Starry-eyed over him. He swept me off my feet, told me it would all work out, that we just needed to get married first and everything would fall into place. He talked a good game and...and I, well, I loved him. Before I knew it we were married, and then on the long drive home from Anchorage he told me he'd enlisted in the army and had to report to Fort Benning in Georgia in two days. He'd made arrangements for me to go with him."
"Bastard," Tern spat out, falling back in her chair.
"Sneaky bastard," Gemma added. "Dropping news like that in a car where you can't get away from him is very clever." She addressed Tern. "Might want to note that one down for when this tadpole of yours is a teenager."
"Very clever," Tern agreed. "What happened then?"
"Well, the fight was epic, and the rest you know. I stayed, and he went."
"And now he's back and wants to pick up where you left off?" Tern asked. "The nerve."
"Yep."
"Pig-headed sneaky bastard," Gemma muttered.
"Yep."
"What do you want?" Tern asked.
"A divorce."
"But he refuses to sign?" Tern continued when Trixie nodded. "You do have a problem."
"What about Miles?" Gemma asked. "Does he know?"
Trixie shook her head. "He met Logan last night though."
"How'd that go?"
"Better than I thought it would. A little posturing, but not bad." Should she feel worse that they hadn't fought over her more? "There has to be a way to end this farce even if he won't sign the papers."
"There might be. Has the marriage been consummated?" Gemma asked.
"Uh...no. On the long drive home, he informed me we were moving. When I refused, he left the next day." Those memories were not fun to revisit. A lot of angry and hurtful things had been said over the seven hours it had taken them to travel home.
"Good, whatever you do don't sleep with him. There could be a way to annul the marriage. You've never lived together or shared property, right?"
"Right."
"So there is nothing to tie you two together. Let me make a call."
"No, I don't want this to get out. The more people who know the worse it will be. You know this town will take sides. It could hurt my holiday sales." At the very least.
"I'll be very discreet and not mention any names," Gemma reassured her. "I have a friend who is an attorney in Anchorage. I'll keep it general enough that she won't have a clue."
"And if the town takes sides, most will side with you," Tern said as if it was a done deal.
"I don't know. Logan's a decorated war hero. No way I can compete with that. I don't want to."
"But you've stayed through everything," Tern pointed out. "Been a part of everyone's life, added to the community, created jobs."
"It's a wash, Tern. You know how it is. He's just returned and has adventures to share from his heroic doings. He will be the man of the hour and when the townspeople find out that we have been married all this time, and I didn't stand by my man, regardless of the situation I will be the one to deal with the fallout, not Logan."
Chapter Six
Logan tackled chores around his mom's place until Mr. Watchman—call me, Axel—returned and helped. He talked too much. Too much about Janet, the future, the past, high school. It was like he had to fill the silence when all Logan wanted was some peace, time to think.
He had to get out of there.
At twenty-eight-years old, no way could he share living space with his mother and her new boyfriend. He had to give props to Mr. Watchman—er, Axel, he didn't know if he'd ever be able to address him by his first name—the man seemed serious about his mom. Logan prayed she didn't get her heart broken again. They were in the blush of their relationship.
Logan had been burned too many times getting close to his "new dad" to have him pack and leave him, or turn on him. He was an adult and didn't need a dad anymore. Hell, his own marriage to Trixie had lasted longer than any of his mother's. That realization didn't cheer him up. If anything it hardened his resolve to work things out with her.
Logan made some lame excuse to Axel and escaped. He spent the rest of the day chasing down a place to live, which turned out to be an impossible undertaking.
Due to the influx of jobs for the pipeline and the new natural gas line going in, there was no housing available in North Pole. Fairbanks didn't have much to offer either, unless he wanted to buy a house at a premium price, which he wasn't ready to do yet. If he bought a house, he hoped to buy one with Trixie and make a home. There weren't even hotel rooms available because of the holidays, and Santa Claus's house was a huge draw this time of year.
That left him with one place.
One he shouldn't even consider.
Legally, he could move into Trixie's apartment. Ethically, it was a matter to be debated.
It would make her deal with him on a daily basis, nightly too. His blood thickened at the thought.
The more he deliberated, the more he liked the idea. This would give them time to get to know each other again, remember why they fell in love. He needed to talk with her, get her on board first, appeal to her softer side. If it still existed.
He hadn't seen her soft side since before they were married. Might keep him from getting shot at for trespassing, but he was more of an ask-for-forgiveness-rather-than-permission type of guy.
Except that hadn't worked well for him in the past with Trix.
He headed to Icebreaker's and found it closed until five. Last night hadn't gone so well. Not that he'd expected his first meeting with Trixie in eight years to be smooth as ice.
The ice part was correct, as for smooth, he needed to thaw her a bit to have that happen.
But that kiss.
He hadn't been able to stop thinking of it. His pulse quickened at the memory of her in his arms, under his hands, finally touching and tasting her again. It had been heaven and hell all rolled into one unforgettable experience. She might hate him, but she still desired him. There was still something between them. Something they could build on.
The thought of not having Trixie in his life darkened everything around him. She'd been the light that had kept him fighting when there seemed to be no point. There had been so many times over the last eight years when he'd picked up a phone, typed an email, or wrote a letter and not followed through. He had no one to blame but himself for the situation he now found himself in.
Somehow he had to fix the rift between them and get her back.
Squaring his shoulders, he stepped out into the cold. This would not be an easy conversation. Maybe he should have brought flowers, but they'd be frozen by the time he walked the distance from his truck to the building. He could have bought her some fabric from his mom's shop, but he didn't know if she quilted or liked crafty things. Probably not as she was too busy working. Even as kids, she'd had the most productive bait and lemonade stand around.
There was so much he wanted to know about her now. He'd known everything about the girl he'd loved, well except that she hadn't been willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. That was one gamble he'd lost his heart on.
He needed a different result this time, which meant a different strategy.
Instead of going in there and telling Trixie what he wanted, he should start with an apology for all the things he hadn't given her. All the times he hadn't been there for her.
He located the stairs behind the building that lead to her apartment. Knocking, he waited, blowing on his hands and stamping his feet to keep them warm. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer.
Well, there was one place that would have answers.
He headed to Icing's.
Faye squealed again when she saw him. At least one of the Frost women still looked forward to seeing him. He hugged her and she gushed, introducing him to the baristas behind the counter and the customers sitting at the café tables spread throughout the shop. The walls were tiled in iridescent glass in frosty blues, purples, pinks, and teals. Once again, he felt as though he'd entered another world. This one was like the top of a snow-powdered mountain, or the icing of a cake.
The scents of rich coffee, dark chocolate and caramelized sugar wrapped around him, enticing him to sit a spell and indulge. Before he knew it, Faye had stuffed him with a chocolate-filled croissant along with peppermint-frosted polar bear cookies and cinnamon divinity that melted in his mouth and fired his palette.
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