Dreamkeepers (3 page)

She felt guilty because she couldn’t love him the way he wanted to be loved. Sometimes she wished desperately that she could feel a soul-stirring pleasure in his arms, feel electrified by his touch. He was so comfortable, so dear. He deserved much more than she could give him.

“You’re going to rub holes in those bowls,” Mike said softly.

The silence was charged with expectancy. Their relationship from now on would depend on this evening. Oh, God! Kelly thought, she’d need help. She didn’t want to hurt him.

“Maybe so, but they’re clean. Fill them up and let’s eat. My stomach thinks I’ve deserted it.”

“That’s not all you deserted,” Mike said with his back to her. “Why in the hell did you marry him, Kelly?”

“Love. A vastly overrated emotion, as I soon discovered.”

He set the bowls on the table and rested a hand on the top of her head. “I’ve missed you.”

She nodded, not answering, not disputing. She had missed him too . . . and Marty. They had been a part of each other for most of their lives and her marriage had cut her off from them.

“What happened when Jonathan came here?”

Mike’s wide mouth hardened. “Not much.”

“But what?”

“He looked around the place like he was a king inspecting the hovels where the peasants live. I should have punched him in the nose.” Mike got up, opened a cabinet door, and slammed it shut. “I wish I’d brought some coffee.”

“Go get it and I’ll make a pot later,” Kelly said absently.

Mike refilled his chili bowl. “What happened to the marriage?” he asked when he was sitting across from her again.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Pain made her voice harsh.

“From what I saw of him, he’s a stiff-necked, arrogant, smart-ass!”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Mike. The marriage is over!”

“Not according to him. He said, and I quote, ‘She is not getting a divorce. She will be my wife until the day she dies.’”

Kelly’s eyes flicked up to meet his and she saw the anger there. Her face flushed under his probing stare.

She shrugged. “He’ll get sick of that after a while. His sister will be on his tail to divorce me and eventually he will. In the meanwhile, I couldn’t care less about what he does. I never intend to marry again, so he has more to lose than I do.” She looked up to see what effect her words had on Mike, but his face was bent over his bowl and his spoon paused only momentarily on its way to his mouth.

He shot her a closed look. “How long are you going to stick around here?”

She laughed. “Trying to get rid of me already? Think I might interfere with your weekend orgies?”

He grinned, relaxing. “You’ve got to realize, woodenhead,” he said, using his old pet name for her, “that I’m a man with all the normal urges and won’t wait forever.”

“I know, Mike. We’re too much like brother and sister to ever be anything more. Remember, Mike, Mike, go fly a kite? And Kelly, Kelly, with a big, fat belly?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It was fun growing up here. I wonder what would have happened to us if Uncle Henry hadn’t taken us in.”

“He never took you in, Mike. Aunt Mary worked hard and made the lodge pay off. My only regret is that she and Dad never married. I know they loved each other.”

“Oh, I don’t think they missed out on much,” he said, with a satisfied smile. “I used to catch them kissing in the kitchen and every once in a while I’d see Uncle Henry pinch her on the bottom.”

“You didn’t! Why didn’t you tell Marty and me?”

“Lots of things happened around here that I didn’t tell you and Marty,” he said insolently.

“That was stinking of you!”

“Yeah, wasn’t it?”

“What other goodies didn’t you tell us?” Kelly asked in an exasperated tone. This was a game Mike played very well. In the old days he used to torment her and Marty with his “I know something you don’t know” attitude and they would follow him for days trying to wheedle information out of him. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

“You have.” He leered, his eyes lingering on her soft, rounded breasts beneath the pullover knit shirt. He made a lecherous face. “Time has improved you! You used to be a skinny monstrosity with legs that came almost to your neck!”

“Well, thank you, vile creature! I can remember when your front teeth looked like Peter Rabbit’s and your ears like Dumbo’s, the elephant. I suppose, now that you’ve grown so handsome, you have to carry a stick to keep the girls away.”

“Let’s just say I don’t miss any opportunities,” he said wickedly.

It was easy for them to fall back into the light banter. It was as if they had never been apart. The only thing missing was Marty.

“Marty said she might come back if we open the resort,” Kelly said suddenly, with a fierce longing to have the three of them together again.

“She mentioned it. I don’t want to give up my job with the utility company just yet. It’ll take a bit of money to put the old place back together again.” Mike got up and reached for his coat. “Wash out the pot, woodenhead, and I’ll fetch some coffee. Tomorrow I’ll run down to Talkeetna so you can stock up. That is if you’re sure you’re going to stay.”

“I was never so sure of anything in my life. I don’t think I ever want to leave this place again.” She looked away, veiling her expression.

“Five years,” he said softly. “You may be addicted to city life and don’t know it.”

“Go get the coffee, mister know-it-all. I’m a big girl, now, and I know my own mind, at last!”

“I hope so.” He grinned. “It’s taken you long enough.” To emphasize the point, he slammed the door unnecessarily hard when he went out.

Kelly found the old blackened coffee pot, scrubbed it out, and filled it with water. She lifted a lid on the range and set the pot in the round hole so the flames lapped at its bottom.

It was good to be home. Although it was dark, she could see in her mind’s eye the peaks of Mount McKinley dominating the skyline. Soon the snows would come . . . that breath of cold air Mike let in when he went out the door told her it could be any day now. The dark, drooping evergreens that shadowed the small settlement of three log cabins and a lodge seemed dreary and mysterious in the summer. But in the winter they appeared graceful and soft, skirted by snow.

There was a lot of work to be done, more than Kelly could possibly do alone, before the lodge would be ready to receive guests. The scrubbing alone would take ages. Another time-consuming chore would be cutting wood for the mammoth fireplace and for heat for her own cabin. That’s about all she could depend on Mike doing. She had noticed the neat cords of wood beside his own cabin, probably not a winter’s supply, but a good start. Maybe she could hire someone in Talkeetna to help.

Now that she was thinking about it, there were a million things to do and not much time to do them if they wanted to open when the season started. People liked a place to leave their snowmobiles before the highway got snowbound, because many of them would come up on the train, or by skiplane. They’d need a mountain of supplies, and a cook. A cook! That was one job she wouldn’t do. She could cook up a meal for herself, but she couldn’t on a large scale.

Ideas for advertising began to flick through her mind. They could place ads in the Anchorage and Fairbanks papers. There had been a big change in the economy ever since the oil companies had descended on the state. New corporations had sprung up and young executives had moved up from the States to run them. The country’s huge size wouldn’t stop them from taking a weekend in the bush. Skiplanes shuttled constantly back and forth between the resorts and the cities. Later, she mused, they could tap the vast resources of Seattle, Portland, and Vancouver for guests. For now, they would concentrate on getting them from closer to home.

Ever since the influx of “foreigners,” as Alaskan natives called them, a powerful tide of newfound pride and racial identity had swept the state. Signs saying “Alaska For Alaskans,” “Yankee Go Home,” and “Happiness Is An Oklahoman Going Home With A Texan Under Each Arm,” covered car bumpers. Kelly agreed to a certain extent. This was where she wanted to be, where she wanted to make something good and enduring; here, the only place in the world where she had roots, she didn’t want the land spoiled with hamburger stands and neon lights.

Mike came in the door.

“Did you go all the way to Talkeetna to get that coffee?” Kelly teased.

“Had to see about my dogs.” He handed her the coffee can and took off his coat.

“Dogs? You’ve got more than one?”

“I’ve got a sled team. They’re half wild, so be careful.”

“Are you going to race them at the Fur Rendezvous?”

“Not in the Anchorage to Nome race, but maybe in one of the shorter ones. I’ve only had them hitched together a few times. They’re wilder than hell.” He grinned.

“I want a dog. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have one here.”

“What kind do you want?”

“I don’t care. Just a dog.”

Mike went to the door, opened it, and yelled, “Charlie!”

A large, white, shaggy dog came bounding in with a frisbee in his mouth. He looked up at Mike expectantly and wagged his tail. Mike reached down and took the battered, chewed plastic disc. The tail stopped wagging and Charlie’s eyes riveted to the frisbee.

“Not in the house, Charlie,” Mike said sternly and the tail made a half wag. “Worthless piece of dog meat,” he said affectionately and scratched the big head. “You got a two track mind. The frisbee and the . . . ball.” Charlie jerked to attention on hearing the magic word. Mike laughed.

“Shame on you for teasing him,” Kelly chided. “Come here, Charlie. What kind of a dog is he?”

“Part shepherd, part husky, I think. He’s got to be part of something else with the disposition he’s got. You can have him if you want him. He doesn’t fit in with my sled team at all.”

Charlie ambled over to Kelly and sniffed. She scratched his head and he leaned against her.

“How old is he?”

“Two years, I thought he’d outgrow playing with the frisbee and the ball, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to.” Charlie peaked his ears on hearing the magic words again, and Kelly laughed, hugged his furry neck, and received a wet lick across her face for the trouble.

“Shall we team up, Charlie? I’ll take care of you if you’ll take care of me. What do you say?”

“I’ll end up by taking care of both of you,” Mike said drily. “Come on, Charlie, take this tooth punctured thing and get out of here.” He held out the frisbee and Charlie clamped his teeth on it and bounded out the door. Mike shut it behind him.

Kelly washed mugs and filled them with coffee. “Is there an extra Citizen’s Band radio around, Mike? We used to have one here and in the lodge.”

“There’s a good base station in the lodge. I’ll fix it up and we’ll run a couple of substations. Marty’s talking about coming back and . . . she might want to open the other cabin.”

“She wouldn’t have to do that. She could move in here with me.”

“I don’t think she’d want to do that.” Mike grinned knowingly.

“Well, are you going to tell me, or do I have to start wheedling?”

“Start wheedling.”

“Oh, come on!”

“All right. If you’re going to be that way about it, I’ll tell you. It wouldn’t surprise me if Marty brought a man back with her.”

“Man? You mean she’s going to get married?”

“You make it sound so . . . obscene.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m surprised, that’s all. She didn’t say anything about having anyone special.”

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know how special he is.”

“Mike!”

He was watching her intently. “Don’t get in a sweat. Marty’s got a right to make her own mistakes.”

“Then you don’t like him?”

“Not especially, but that’s not what’s important, is it?” He got up and put on his coat. “I didn’t like Jonathan Templeton, either.” He was watching her, trying to read her face, and she looked up at him, her features torn by confused emotions.

“I can’t imagine life without you and Marty.” For the first time in months she felt weepy.

Mike’s face had a strange, hard look on it, but it softened as he came toward her. He bent and kissed her cheek.

“See you in the morning. I’ve got the day off. We’ll take a run up to Talkeetna and pick up a few things.”

“I’m too tired to make out a list.”

“Don’t try. Bed down on the couch. Tomorrow we’ll dig into the stuff up at the lodge and make this place livable.”

“You’re too good to me. What’s the catch?”

“I’ve got designs on your body.” He leered and his eyes raked her suggestively.

“Oh, get out of here, you . . . you . . . turkey! Now I know you’re nuts!”

Kelly expected to fall asleep at once, but her mind refused to rest. Plans for the lodge, the comfortable relationship she had established with Mike, the prospect of Marty getting married, all blurred together in a swirl of thoughts. She tried to make her mind go blank but Jonathan’s words sprang before her. “She will be my wife until the day she dies.” Why would he say a thing like that unless he wanted to make Mike angry? But . . . Jonathan wasn’t petty. He was probably frustrated because he couldn’t get the divorce papers signed. She admitted, reluctantly, that
she
had been petty in making Katherine and Nancy wait for Jonathan’s freedom. The marriage had, obviously, hurt him.

“I must divorce him,” she said aloud, and the sound of her voice in the silent room startled her. She closed her eyes, feeling drained. Slowly sleep came to ease her troubled mind.

She woke once in the night with tears in her eyes and knew she’d been dreaming about Jack. Under the spell of her passion for him, the dreams they’d shared haunted her like an unforgotten melody. She could see his face, tender with love, bending to hers on their wedding night. “God, but you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. Say you love me. Say you love . . . only me.” Jack faded away and Jonathan was shouting, “I never should have married her . . . damn her!” In the next breath, he muttered agonizingly, “Something’s got to give. I can’t take much more of this.”

Kelly sank into an exhausted sleep and awoke only when she felt something rough and wet on her face. She opened one eye. Charlie was staring at her. She opened the other eye and saw the outside door open. Seconds later, Mike’s square body filled it, and he kicked it shut after him. He brought in an armload of wood and knelt beside the fireplace.