Unsafe Haven (4 page)

When he smiled at her again, she returned it, and thrust out her hand to shake his. “If you’re sure about the truck, then I’d be glad for the loan, Chief Nulo.”

He felt his smile widen. “It’s Denn, Kendall. My friends call me Denn.”

Her eyes flickered and she dipped her head modestly, but her smile stayed in place.

“Okay, Denn.”

Kendall awoke the next morning to the sound of birdsong outside her window. With a stretch and a yawn, she sat up, disoriented, forgetting where she was. Awareness came with the next jaw-splitting yawn that stretched into a delighted grin.

I’m
in Alaska
.

And for the first time in more than a year, she felt safe. As she flopped back onto the rumpled covers, she luxuriated in the pure sloth of knowing she had nowhere to be, unless she wanted to get up and go. She could stay in bed all day if she pleased.

In one of his emails, Mike Nulty had told her The Last Outfitter Post was seasonal, and usually operated from late May to mid-October. She had over three weeks before she needed to open, plenty of time to go through existing stock, check the books, set up a bank account, and deal with anything else she could think of.

Kendall leaned against a mound of pillows and gave her room a more thorough examination. Last night she’d been too travel-weary to take much of anything in. This morning, with the sun pouring through the windows, she could better appreciate Wendy Chang’s flair for comfort and whimsy.

Spacious, with a private bath, papered in a lovely paisley pattern, the room was a palette of color, from soft green to blushing rose, accented with taupe and ivory. A thick area rug spread over the light oak floor. The canopied bed and highboy bureau showcased more of the mellowed wood. Nightstands held pretty stained-glass lamps, and again the influence of Victoriana and Native Alaskana blended well, in both the artwork on the walls and the collection of ivory figurines placed around the room.

Kendall sighed in contentment. She could easily have stayed there for months, and quite happily, if she hadn’t discovered the extra windfall awaiting her behind the store. Even so, she’d be in no hurry to move. It would be nice to stay in town and get to know everyone as she eased into Staamat’s way of life and took her time furnishing the apartment while she got a handle on her customer base.

Eager to get started, she bounced out of bed, already thinking ahead to a day of sightseeing.

Forty minutes later, after a hot shower and two of Wendy’s cinnamon scones, Kendall strode down Staamat’s short but pretty main street. She pulled the collar of her coat tighter around her neck and wished she’d thought to buy a scarf. At least she’d purchased a warmer cap and gloves. For now her collar would keep the wind out. In her faded jeans and hiking boots, quilted coat and knitted gloves, she blended in with everyone else walking around the downtown area.

Now and then someone would wave at her. Nobody knew who on earth she was, but news probably traveled fast in these small villages. The locals might have already identified the new
cheechako
in their midst.

Cheechako
. What a strange word.

Yesterday on the drive back to town, Denn had wondered aloud how sick he’d find his young sister after eating two banana splits plus however many peanut butter balls Luna would have begged from Wendy.

“Will she be very ill? I don’t know much about how sugar affects a diabetic,” Kendall confessed.

Denn shrugged. “It depends. Sometimes Fake remembers to cheat on the toppings, and he uses a lot of nuts to cover up the lack. She’s got the old man wrapped around her finger. She always did know how to play him. I remember when he first came up here, back when Luna was a little kid. Stupid
cheechako
, he flew up from Florida in the middle of winter without a coat and boots. Luna came running home that day and told our mother to go buy the old man at the candy store a jacket.”

Kendall focused on the term she’d already heard. “Thom called me that.
Cheechako.
What’s it mean?”

“Newcomer. Someone who comes up to Alaska who doesn’t know anything of the culture, the climate, and so on.” Denn eyed her as he parked in front of the Four Hills Inn. “You’ll be a newcomer for quite a while. Until folks around here get to know you, accept you. Then you’ll just be another crazy sourdough.”

At her questioning look, he explained. “A seasoned Alaskan. Up here, you’re either a sourdough or a
cheechako.
”

Kendall set her chin at a defiant angle, and retorted, “Then I’ll be a sourdough, and sooner than you think.”

Now, she had to grin at her own temerity. She never mouthed off, especially around men. She kept her opinions to herself and walked neutral ground. And she maintained a low profile, too. Years of habit, hard to break, but oh, how she wanted to move past it. Here was her chance to become a new person, a stronger person. Here was her chance to live, if she was smart enough to take it.

As she walked down Main Street, two more people waved at her, and this time Kendall waved back.

A few minutes later she passed the log building that housed Staamat’s police force. Thom had given her some grief for not doing her research before moving here, but she’d researched more than he’d ever think, including what she’d learned of law enforcement in these rural villages. She knew there was a correctional facility in Bethel. She knew some of the more prosperous villages, like Staamat, often paid for their own police, with the State of Alaska providing trooper backup. And in other villages, the State Troopers were all those places had. Chances were good Denn manned an office of one.

And suddenly, she wanted to see him. It was irrational. She barely knew the man. Kendall debated the wisdom of going inside until a rapping noise caught her attention. She looked up to see a woman at the window, her pretty face framed in rich black hair. The woman raised a chubby arm and gestured for Kendall to come in, and impulsively, she stepped onto the porch.

The outer door connected to a narrow entryway. Ahead of her the main door of the station was already open, the woman from the window standing there, offering a welcoming smile. “You’re Kendall, right? Denn told me all about you. I’m Jo Purna, Denn’s dispatcher.” She caught Kendall’s hand and pumped it enthusiastically.

Kendall’s eyes fastened on the woman’s enormous belly, and Jo giggled like a teenager. “Twins. But I keep growing. Denn insists there might be three or four in there.”

“Three or four? Babies?” Kendall’s jaw dropped, and Jo giggled some more.

She rubbed at the huge mound. “Yeah, Denn gets a kick out of freaking me out. But there’s only two, thank God. More boys. I already have five of them. I was hoping for girls this time, but no such luck.”

Kendall gaped at her. “You have five boys, and two more on the way? You must be eligible for sainthood!”

“Yeah, you’d think. I keep telling Frank—my husband—that I’m a real saint. I don’t think he believes me.” Jo waddled toward the wide chair behind her desk and eased herself into it. “You need to see Denn? He’s doing rounds, be back in another twenty minutes or so. Want some coffee? A soda pop?”

“No thanks on the drink. Though I did stop in to say hi to Chief Nulo.” Kendall sat in one of the guest chairs and folded her hands in her lap as she viewed the ruthlessly organized office. There didn’t seem to be a thing out of place. “He wanted to know if I needed addresses for some stores in New Mina.”

“Denn says you bought out Mike Nulty. Sweet guy. I had no idea he was going to move to Fairbanks. Guess nobody did.” Jo picked up a plastic bottle of orange pop, took a few swigs, then released a noisy burp. “Sorry. The bubbles get to me.”

Kendall waved away her apology. “Yes, I bought Mr. Nulty’s store. I could use some guidance on where to buy groceries and whatnot, around here.”

“Well, your best bet is stocking up in New Mina. Their prices aren’t too awful. Fake’s, here in town, is kind of a mom and pop store, and they sell a bit of everything. Some fresh stuff, some frozen meat, staples like bread and milk, eggs. Very pricey. This time of year, most of his stuff is flown in. The freight barge comes down on the Kuskokwim right after break-up, and last I heard, the river still had some ice chunked up. Fly-in’s not cheap, either.”

Jo tore a piece of paper from a tablet under the phone, found a pencil and scribbled. “You’ll need a freezer, doesn’t have to be big. My sister has one she’s not using anymore. One of those chest style deals. She’d probably just give it to you, if I know Pet.”

Startled at the generous offer, Kendall parted her lips to thank Jo, who flapped a hand at her gratitude and kept scribbling and chattering away. “So, you buy in bulk, get yourself one of those food saver systems and vacuum seal whatever you can. Lasts for months. Go along some of New Mina’s side streets and you’ll see garage sales up the wazoo. The town’s lousy with them, once the snow melts. All kinds of stuff, lots of junk, but every so often you can find a treasure. Staamat’s got a drop, too. It comes once a month. Like I said, Fake gets it in the winter, and a few others in town are signed up for it year round.”

“Drop? I don’t understand.”

“Oh, sorry. Been a while since I’ve talked to a
cheechako.
” When Kendall made a face at her, Jo laughed. “Ah, you already know that word. Most villages have a supply drop. What I meant by ‘fly-in.’ All kinds of stuff, but the main drop is for food. Veggies, other perishables, canned stuff. And places like Bearfoot Inn, over in Cold Bay? They do a delivery, too. For a price.”

She shrugged. “So much of Alaska is tundra, you see. Not so good for crops and cattle, dairy. There’re a few big farms in the Interior, like Matanuska Valley. Some places in Kuskokwim, too. They make a decent go of it, but they can’t produce enough to supply all the small places. Anyhow, you’ll get used to it.” Thom Bank’s favorite phrase rolled off Jo’s tongue.

Kendall had to smile. “I probably will.”

Just then the outer door opened. Denn called out, “Jo, I hope to hell you brewed fresh coffee.” From her seat Kendall saw him hang up his jacket and hat in the entryway. “The Suburban’s acting up and I had to walk over. I stopped by Nomey’s place and sweet-talked him into fixing whatever’s ailing it.” His back to the room, he wiped his boots on the runner and ran his fingers over his hair, raking the silky mass out of his collar. The strands fell in a thick black rain and touched shoulders that rippled beneath the crisp uniform shirt he wore.

Her mouth went dry at the look of him, so male. So appealing. She gawked but she couldn’t help it. And when he caught her staring at him, she still didn’t have the presence of mind to look somewhere else.

A smile curved his lips as he strode across the room and reached for one of her hands. It had been a long time since she’d noticed a man’s regard, but there was no mistaking his interest.

Jo cleared her throat, and Denn hastily dropped Kendall’s hand. “Morning.” The husky greeting caused heat to rise in her cheeks as she murmured in response, and sighed at Jo’s knowing smirk.

Oh, just great.

She sensed Denn’s eyes on her and was vain enough to be glad she’d worn her new cherry-red jacket and matching red knit cap. She’d let her hair go wild instead of trying to tame the natural curls, and it feathered around the edge of her cap and poured down her back in a sunny brown tumble. She’d left the inn, happy with her appearance. Even so, her innate shyness around men made it difficult to enjoy Denn’s bold appreciation. It seemed easier to examine her nails as if she found them fascinating. After a few seconds more, she risked a peek from the corner of her eye as he removed his holster and set it on the edge of Jo’s desk.

“So, Denn . . . Kendall here wants the straight poop on where to get the deals in New Mina. You should take her. Plenty of room in your Suburban for whatever she needs.” Jo wiped a drop of orange pop off her bottom lip, all innocence and helpful advice as her eyes flicked from him to Kendall.

Before Kendall could protest, Denn turned to her. “Sure, I could schedule a day, help you out. I’d be glad to. I’d just need to make sure our relief deputy is available. He’s got a part-time job, and—”

“Stevie can handle it. He called earlier this morning. Asked me if we had any extra hours for him.” Jo rested her hands over the mound of her belly, obviously enjoying herself.

“Oh, no, it’s not necessary—” Kendall tried to interject before further plans could formulate around her.

But Denn just shrugged. “When do you want to leave?”

“No, I don’t need a ride. I wasn’t planning on going anytime soon. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer.” Kendall got to her feet and edged away from the chair. “I should go. I have a lot of errands to do.” She backed toward the door, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

Her reaction to this man worried her, and she didn’t know what to do about it. So male and intimidating in his severely tailored uniform, his muscular build only enhanced what he was: a man in his prime, healthy and athletic. Tall and broad.

Like Roy.
Her treacherous inner voice wouldn’t shut up. Over the past months, she’d done what she thought was a decent job of keeping the inner voice silent. She couldn’t hibernate for the rest of her life just because she might see a tall, broad-shouldered man with heavy muscles and long legs. With a low, velvet-smooth voice. And piercing eyes, chiseled lips, a blinding white smile hiding the danger, the evil, lurking within.

Stop it.

Perspiration broke out on her upper lip and she took a few more steps backward. Now Denn had a suspicious frown on his face as he stared at her. So much for making a casual exit. She tried a smile, but it felt more like a grimace, and she caught the door handle behind her back with a damp palm.

“Are you all right, Kendall?” He spoke softly, concerned. She’d heard that tone before, hadn’t she? Caring words, all wrapped up in fake concern. False love.

She had to get out of there.

Mumbling something, unsure of the exact words, she made her escape.