Northern Encounter (10 page)

T
ESSA WAS AMAZED AT
how familiar it felt to cross the landing strip and walk into the office once Dalton had them safely back on the ground.

“How was the fishing camp?” Merrilee said by way of greeting. “Did you get some good footage?”

Even though Tessa didn’t know her very well, she thought the older woman’s smile looked a bit tense. Of course, having a man on your property whom you’d driven across a continent to get away from would make anyone tense.

“I got some great footage of wolves, chickadees and the northern lights. I’m very pleased.”

“That’s good to hear. We like to keep our visitors happy.”

“I can see why you stayed when you got here. It’s just beautiful.”

“That it is. but it’s not for everybody, which is a good thing, because if everybody lived here the
rest of us probably wouldn’t want to,” Merrilee said, winking like a teenager sharing a joke.

Tessa laughed. “Clint had some things to take care of and we’re not supposed to head out to the glacier until later this afternoon, so I’m going to explore the town after my shower.”

“Do you want a guide? I can snag Teddy from next door.”

“No. I’m fine on my own. Thanks though.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. I’m used to my own company.”

“I tell you what. I’ll have a cinnamon roll and a cup of tea ready for you when you come back down. You don’t want to go exploring on an empty stomach.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

Forty minutes later Tessa had scarfed down the best cinnamon roll she’d ever tasted and washed it down with a cup of hot tea. Tad had been nursing what looked like a mixed drink at the bar next door. Tessa had caught a glimpse of Mr. Spray-on Tan when Teddy had brought over the cinnamon roll. She hadn’t seen his fiancée next to him but then again, the door had opened and closed fast. Talk about a man who didn’t match either of the two women in his life—past or present. She always thought it was interesting to see couples together. Sometimes they looked as if they were meant to be together and other times you were just left shaking your head wondering why and how that pair had come together.

“Be careful. There are ice patches out there,” Merrilee called out to Tessa as she headed out the front door, bundled into her parka.

“Will do.”

Frigid air whistled down the street and against her skin. She tugged her hood more firmly into place. It was doggone cold, but she found it invigorating.

Merrilee had armed her with an overview of the town. Good Riddance was essentially one major street, appropriately and in good southern tradition named Main Street, lined with stores. Driveways ran perpendicular to Main Street, allowing access to the back of the businesses, or to houses behind them.

She set out for the general store, which catered to the locals as well as stocking a variety of souvenirs for the tourists passing through. Tessa found the day’s light very weird. It wasn’t exactly dark, but neither was it what you’d call light. It was more along the lines of a twilight—a far cry from Tucson’s mostly sunny skies. The difference was neither bad nor good, it was simply different.

A woman, obviously native, passed by her, holding a small child by the hand. She offered Tessa a shy but friendly nod. “Hello,” Tessa said in return.

For all she knew, the woman was very likely kin to Nelson and Clint. But then again, perhaps there were different clans and tribes in the area. She’d have to ask. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was a woman in Clint’s life, even though he didn’t strike
her as the kind of man to sleep with her if there
was
a woman in his life. The very idea made her faintly sick. No, she’d just be honest. That wasn’t a sick feeling, it was called jealousy, plain and simple. She had no right to demand anything, but the idea of him making love to someone else with the same tenderness and passion he’d shared with her last night rocked her to the core. And that wasn’t a place she needed to go.

A bell jangled as she walked through the glass-fronted door of the Good Riddance Dry Goods and Emporium. The store looked as if it had been pulled from a movie set. It was a quintessential turn-of-the-century store with slightly dusty shelves, the scent of fresh peppermint candy mingled with a faint mustiness. There were even a few bolts of fabric stacked on a table in the back.

A couple who bore a striking resemblance to Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus garbed in blue jeans and motor cycle T-shirts greeted her from behind the counter.

“Hi, there,” the woman said.

“What can we do you for?” the man seconded.

Tessa introduced herself and her assignment in Good Riddance. In turn the couple introduced themselves as Leo and Nancy Perkins. Within minutes Tessa had the skinny. The Perkinses were transplants from Wisconsin where Nancy had retired from teaching school and Leo had retired from insurance sales.
Their kids and grandchildren came up each summer for a family visit.

“Do you carry locally made products? That’s al ways what interests me most,” Tessa said.

“Sure thing,” Nancy said. “Over here we’ve got some necklace carvings, some etchings, and a couple of watercolors by our local artist Henry Mansford.”

Almost immediately Tessa’s eye was drawn to the necklace carvings. The animal figures were small yet beautifully detailed, showing a high level of craftsmanship. One in particular caught her eye. It was an eagle. Rather than the typical pose with wings outspread in flight, this eagle sat watching from a tree top. The strength, the proud cast of his head, the patient watchfulness—it instantly reminded her of Clint.

“I love this.”

“Here, try it on,” Nancy said, reaching inside the glass case and bringing it out.

The second it touched her neck, Tessa knew she had to have it. It felt right nestled against her collar bone. Nancy held up a hand mirror for Tessa to take a look.

It was even more striking on, gleaming against her skin. She was thoroughly enchanted. She wasn’t a big shopper, but when she found the right piece she knew it and this piece definitely spoke to her. And it would be like taking a piece of Clint back with her when
she returned home. “Yes. This has my name written all over it,” Tessa said with a satisfied smile.

She browsed a bit more and enjoyed chatting with the Perkinses. Another local came in and she met Donna, a tall, striking blonde who ran the engine repair shop across the street from the medical center.

Another few minutes and Tessa was once again on her way. She was walking past a shop with Curl’s written in sloping letters on the front glass. Beneath the name it read, “Serving all of your taxidermy, barbershop, beauty salon and mortuary needs.” As if the sign alone wasn’t enough to stop her in her tracks, Jenna waved at her from inside the shop.

On impulse, Tessa backed up and opened the door. She could use a cut and how many people could actually say they’d had a taxidermist/barber/mortician style their hair?

C
LINT STEELED HIMSELF
and pushed open the back door. Kobuk was already curled up in the yard. Clint’s grandmother and Aunt Leona, who wasn’t technically his aunt but had always been called that, sat at the kitchen table peeling vegetables for stew.

The pungent smell of raw onions pierced the air. Both the women ignored him until he’d closed the door behind him and hung his coat on a peg mounted near the door. Only then did they turn to acknowledge him. “It is my grandson with the restless feet who chooses to join us, Leona.”

Clint didn’t mention he was her only grandson, restless feet aside. His grandmother, for all her wisdom as head of their clan, wasn’t above a touch of drama now and again, more often than not.

“Grandmother. Aunt Leona. How are you to day?”

Aunt Leona, nearly as old as his grandmother, went into a recounting of her latest medical problems. They were numerous, her most troubling being a recent bout of gout, as diagnosed by Dr. Skye.

Clint listened with half an ear, murmuring platitudes now and then.

“For goodness’ sake, Leona, that’s enough,” his grandmother finally snapped.

“Hmph,” Leona said, getting up from the table.

“Good to see you, Aunt Leona,” Clint said to her retreating back as she made her way into the den.

This particular scenario always played out the same.

Grandmother would snap at her and Leona would retreat to the other room for TV time until they both got over their respective case of mad.

Sure enough, within seconds her shuffling steps ceased only to be replaced with the sound of the television.

“Caribou stew for dinner?” he said.

“Yes, your father killed and dressed one out yesterday. Can you stay for dinner?”

They both knew he couldn’t. They also both knew
it was her entrée to discuss Tessa whom she’d surely heard about.

“I can’t tonight but maybe you can save some for me,” Clint said.

“That’s right. You’re busy with that white woman.” Her disapproval apparent, she made it sound as if he was dating Tessa.

He propped against the counter opposite where she sat at the table. “I’m
busy
doing my job, Grandmother. She hired me to be her guide while she’s here.”

“Just remember your father and his mistake.”

Clint found it unlikely he’d forget since he was the outcome of that “mistake.” “I’m not my father,” he said, almost by rote as he’d reassured both himself and his grandmother the same thing for years now.

She sent him a sharp-eyed look and merely nodded.

“I’m going to bring her to the village tomorrow. She’s interested in the beading and the basketweaving.”

He wasn’t asking permission. It was more of a courtesy heads-up that he’d be bringing a stranger to call.

His grandmother’s lips tightened but that was the only indication she offered that he’d even spoken. He wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected her to be pleased with his decision to bring Tessa out.

“Have you talked to Ellie lately?” she asked.

Not only had he not talked to Ellie, she hadn’t actually crossed his mind since he’d laid eyes on Tessa.

And he was damn smart enough not to say that as it would send his grandmother right over the edge.

“No, I haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks.”

His grandmother shook her head slowly as if she couldn’t begin to understand Clint. “She is a good match. A hare is just what an eagle needs. The hare tends to things on the ground so that the eagle may soar.”

In his culture, every child was “marked” by an animal upon their birth and that became their totem.

It was said that when an animal visited three days in a row following the birth of a child, it marked that child as a member of their animal clan, imbuing the child with the animal characteristics. Clint had been marked by an eagle. Therefore, it was no surprise he had an affinity for finding his way and had become a guide.

“I’m not looking for a mate,” he said.

“You don’t have to be looking. Often the mate finds you. But you must be smart enough to recognize it.”

Immediately Tessa’s face came to mind. And that was what scared the hell out of him. Much as when a child was marked by his or her totem, when a man or woman was marked by a mate there was no denying or changing it. He pushed abruptly away from
the counter. “And you have to be smart enough to recognize when a mate simply won’t work.”

“You’re bringing this white woman here to morrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow or the day after.” He plucked his jacket off the peg and shrugged into it.

“You know she doesn’t belong here.”

He turned to face her from the doorway. “Grandmother, I’m bringing her for a visit. I’m well aware she doesn’t belong here.”

As he closed the door behind him, Kobuk stood and trotted over to the truck door. Clint crossed the yard, the truth hitting him like a ton of bricks. The only thing Grandmother knew about Tessa was her skin color, yet already Grandmother didn’t like her. All these years he’d deemed his grandmother’s attitude as one of protectiveness. In actuality, she was as prejudicial as his mother’s parents.

And was he any better?

“W
HAT DO YOU MEAN
, no?” Beneath his orange spray-on tan, Tad turned red. At least Merrilee thought he was turning red. It was hard to tell with that perpetual orange glow he had going.

She closed the log book and put it away in her desk. She stood. She didn’t particularly care for Tad towering over her while she sat. “No means no.”

“You’ve wanted a divorce for twenty-five years and now you’re refusing to sign these papers?” He shook
the papers clutched in his hand as if she might’ve been confused as to exactly which ones he meant.

“Uh-huh. That’s right.” She busied herself sorting through a stack of mail Juliette had brought in on an early morning flight.

Over by the chess table, Jeb and Dwight argued as to which winter had been the coldest in the past ten years. Thank goodness they were nearly deaf and couldn’t hear Tad babbling about a divorce.

“But why?”

She didn’t bother to even look at him. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“But for twenty-five years—”

She dropped the last letter onto the appropriate pile and cut him off, finally giving him her undivided attention. “You refused to sign. Why did you refuse to sign for so long?” It was rhetorical. She knew exactly why he hadn’t signed the divorce decree—because it was what she’d wanted.

“Because I could, Merry.” He smiled like the smug bastard he’d always been. “Because I could.”

Well, he’d at least spit out half the truth. The other reason was that while he couldn’t control whether she left him or not, he
could
control whether she was still married to him.

“There you go, then, Tad. That rolls both ways. I can refuse to sign and I’m exercising that right.”

“You’re jealous. You’re jealous I found someone young and beautiful. You don’t want to know that
I’m sporting a wife half your age around town while you’re stuck with some old man here in the back of beyond.”

She’d tolerated his presence, barely, for the past two days but that did it. He’d crossed a line and she wouldn’t have it.