Unsafe Haven (6 page)

“Shut
up.
” She was enjoying herself despite having her dignity stomped on. The realization rather stunned her. Still, she stuck her nose in the air. “At least I didn’t roll down the damned window and call
here, moosie moosie
.”

“To my everlasting relief.” He eased onto a narrow street cluttered with assorted four-wheelers, a few trucks, and dirt bikes. “Start looking for a parking spot.”

With interest, she stared out the window. After Denn’s talk of what was available here, she’d expected a town twice the size of Staamat. However, New Mina wasn’t much bigger, and certainly not as attractive. She noticed very few trees and more dust. But the downtown area seemed busy enough, if the packed wooden sidewalks were anything to go by.

“There’re a lot of people walking around.”

“Everyone comes to town in the spring and loads up on supplies.” Denn scanned the street for a place to park.

A burly man in thick rubber boots loaded bags of feed into a small trailer he pulled behind his four-wheeler. His tangled beard hit him at about mid-chest. “Is that a sourdough?” She pointed toward him.

“Definitely. He comes into town when he runs out of food for his team.” At her raised eyebrows, he said, “He’s a musher. Runs a dog team in the races. Iditarod, Yukon Quest, some of the local races. You want to meet him?”

“I don’t—”

Before she could demur, he’d shifted into park, climbed from the truck, and strode around to her door, then opened it and helped her out. “Come on. Bear’s a real character.” He caught her by the hand and led her across the street. “Yo, Bear!”

The man’s head came up, his face wearing a fierce frown, which lightened into a surprisingly attractive smile when he spotted them. “Well, I’ll be go to hell. Hey, Nulo!” He boldly looked Kendall over. “What’s that ya got attached to ya, there? New girly?” He sent her a wink lusty enough to heat her face from chin to hairline.

“As a matter of fact, yeah.” Denn shocked her when he curled an arm around her waist and anchored her to his side. She gaped at him and he put a finger on her chin to push it up until her teeth clacked together. “She’s kind of shy, aren’t you, baby?”

Baby? Her eyes fired and she raised her hand to push at him, but he caught her fingers and pressed a kiss on them. “Meet Kendall. She’s spoken for.” He avoided the elbow she tried to grind into his ribs, and clasped her tighter. “Honey, this is Jim Bernard, otherwise known as ‘Bear.’ He’s even shyer than you.”

While Bear snorted, Denn gave her a squeeze, and the protest died on her lips when she caught his subtle headshake. Something must be going on. Whatever it was, she’d find out. For now, she might as well play along.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She couldn’t help but notice the way Bear’s dark eyes glowed when she offered him a smile and her hand to shake. “Why do they call you ‘Bear’?”

He let loose a guffaw that made his beard tremble and cradled her hand in both of his. “Because I got paws like a bear, honey-pie.”

His grip felt odd. When she glanced at his hands, she gasped. The tip of every finger was gone. “Oh my God.”

“Wasn’t God, sweetheart. Was my own stupidity.” He patted her hand as he held it. “I came here from West Virginia, thought I knew all about winter survival. Spent my first summer building my cabin and my first winter getting drunk and climbing Little Staamat. Got trapped during a climb and wasn’t wearing decent gloves. Three days later they found me.”

He winked at her, and she was struck by how good-looking he might be without all the facial hair. “I got enough left to hang onto my sled leads, and that’s the main thing, honey-pie. But frostbite ain’t nothing to mess around with, best remember.”

He released her hand, slapped Denn on the back. “She’s a pretty little thing, ya lucky bastard. Don’t let her go, or else I’ll come steal her away.” With a nod to both of them, he climbed onto his four-wheeler and gunned the engine, roaring away with a wave.

She whirled on Denn. “What was all that about? Why pretend we’re a couple?”

“Bear lives his life by a different set of rules. He came up here in the first place because he was in trouble with the law. He’d brought a girl with him against her will.”

At her swift intake of breath, Denn nodded. “True story. They’d dated for a while and Bear wanted more than she was willing to give. She broke it off but he wasn’t ready to call it quits, so he dragged her up here with him after she slapped a restraining order on him.”

“Good Lord, what happened?”

“Oh, she got away from him and came to town. Told everyone what he’d done. Troopers went out to the cabin to arrest Bear, but she ended up not pressing charges, and they sent her back to West Virginia. They let Bear off with a warning. There wasn’t much else they could do. But Bear still won’t take no for an answer when he sees a girl he wants. He’s pulled the same stunt twice more, once on a local girl and once when he was up in Fairbanks, nosing around. And sooner or later he’d have come into The Post and caught a glimpse of you.” Denn shrugged as he opened her door and retrieved her purse, while she stood there and tried to process what he’d told her.

As he ushered her down the sidewalk, he added, “Bear won’t poach, though. If he meets a girl and she’s spoken for, he leaves her alone. You’re not in the Lower Forty-Eight any longer, Kendall.” He squeezed her elbow as if to emphasize his warning. “Some places in the Last Frontier have rules of their own, which is often why people move up here.”

“Are you saying not everyone I meet will be a safe bet?” For heaven’s sake, she wasn’t a two-year-old. She wrenched her arm away but he caught hold of her again and brought her closer.

He spoke in her ear. “I’m saying not everyone you meet is a nice guy. I’m saying a lot of folks around here have their own agendas.” He guided her toward a compact café wedged between two rustic wood cabins. “Let’s get some lunch before I take you shopping. Betty’s Place has the best burgers in Alaska. She makes them with ground reindeer.” He pushed her inside and nudged her over to the closest booth.

She sank onto the cracked vinyl seat without protest. Was he pulling her leg? People actually ate reindeer? The cute little Rudolf-looking animals?

“I can see the gears turning in your head.” Denn sat across from her. “Yes, people eat reindeer. Or caribou, which is technically what they are. It’s no different than eating venison.”

“I don’t eat red meat. Ever.”

He frowned as if she’d confessed to slaughtering fuzzy bunnies for sport. “What, never? You a vegan or something?”

“No.” She pressed her lips together firmly and refused to say more.

Denn stared intently at her for a few seconds. “Well, it’s up to you. But moose, bear, and caribou are plentiful and you’ll find it easier to obtain than chicken, I guarantee.”

She considered his words as she absorbed the café’s décor. Calling it ‘rustic’ would be a kindness. Six round tables, a motley assortment of chairs, a floor littered with peanut shells, and windows grimy from years of grease smoke. But the smells coming from the tiny kitchen beyond were heavenly.

You’re in Alaska now. Time to grow up.

With a sigh, she capitulated. “Does it taste like venison or beef?” The sooner she assimilated the local way of life, the better. But all she could see in her head was Santa and his flying sleigh.

“It’s very similar. Reindeer might be a little sweeter. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.” He waved to the woman who came through the swinging half door behind the counter. “Hi, Betty. Two of your specials, loaded.”

“Denn, where you been?” Smiling, the woman brought glasses of water to their table. She appeared to be in her late thirties, short and round, with the most beautiful hair Kendall had ever seen. So black it had tones of blue in the highlights, it fell, thick and straight, to her hips. She tossed a hunk of it over her shoulder and nodded toward Kendall. “You want the special or something else, honey? Denn here gets uppity when he brings a date to lunch. He forgets she can order for herself.” She pointed to a chalkboard handwritten with various menu items.

Kendall gave the menu a quick study. Just about every item had either ‘reindeer’ or ‘moose’ in the title. She shook her head. “No, I’ll try the special.”

“There you go.” Betty fished two straws from the pocket of her apron and handed them to Denn. “So, when did you get in? Did you see Molly? That damned brat, never stays home like she should.” She laid out napkins and silverware as she spoke.

“We saw a cow outside of town. Too big for Molly,” Denn replied.

“Cow? I didn’t see a cow.” Kendall frowned at him, confused.

Betty poked Denn with her index finger. “Molly’s all grown up, Nulo. Still a brat, though. She ate up my lobelia the other day, right out of the greenhouse. I’ll have to start locking the damned door. Well, I’ll have your order up in a jiffy.” She strode toward the counter.

“What cow?” Kendall wanted to know. “And I’m not your date.”

“Female moose are cows, too.”

Her eyes widened in understanding. “The huge moose that wanted to eat me alive is someone’s
pet
?”

“Yep. Betty’s right, Molly’s grown a lot. But she’s about as tame as a dog. Betty’s had her since she was a calf. Legally you’re not supposed to keep wildlife for pets, but around here, nobody cares.”

“She’s enormous. Couldn’t she hurt someone?”

“Maybe, if she had calves of her own and someone got between her and her babies. Moose are ferocious mothers. I guess I’ll have to talk to Betty, remind her to fence Molly up so she doesn’t sneak out and get herself into trouble. Though by the looks of her, she’s old enough to come into heat and let some bull have his way with her.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about moose sex.” But it was all Kendall could do not to laugh. This was the unexpected adventure, the new life she wanted for herself. Sitting in a café in the middle of desolate Alaska with a drop-dead handsome man across from her. Waiting for their reindeer burgers and discussing moose romance, of all things. Too surreal.

I’m having a great day, after all
.

She grinned at Denn and caught her breath when he grinned back at her.

Late-afternoon sunlight glinted through freshly washed windows. The previously dull, black and white tiled floor sparkled and every countertop gleamed. Kendall wiped the sweat from her forehead as she dropped the sponge in her bucket and stretched her tight muscles. Looking around at the now-spotless store, she knew a deep satisfaction.

She could open any day she chose, and yet enjoyed knowing she could take her time if she wanted. New stock would arrive soon, though she hadn’t needed to order much. She gave thanks to Mike Nulty regularly for leaving behind so much merchandise. He’d never know the huge favor he’d done her.

Carrying the bucket, she moved toward the bathroom in her new apartment and dumped the contents into the toilet. She left the bucket upside down in the tub to dry out, and stepped into her kitchen for a glass of water. Much of the past week had been spent cleaning and organizing both the store and apartment. She’d made one trip, by herself, into New Mina, buying odd pieces of furniture and a few bags of groceries. A yard sale had netted her some great household items, including a toaster still sealed in its original box. She’d paid three dollars for it.

Yard sales aside, Jo Purna hadn’t been kidding when she said supplies were expensive. Kendall had to choke back a gasp when the salesclerk at Northernmost Save-U-Cash had totaled the contents of her shopping cart. She didn’t do much better at Balto General, and she’d only bought a lamp, a mattress and box spring, and some curtains. She still needed a sofa, an extra easy chair, and at least one area rug.

She’d bring the rest of her things over from Four Hills in a few weeks. Her decision to stay downtown instead of moving right away was a no-brainer, though it would eat into her savings more than she’d have liked. But she wanted to see how the store fared before she made a final move. Plus, she enjoyed the security of living right in town. Soon enough she’d be alone out here, and a part of her couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. She’d only be a few miles from town, but still . . .

“Hello? Anyone here?” The booming voice, coming from the front of the store, startled her out of her dithering, and Kendall hurried through the apartment door, closing it behind her. She’d been certain she’d locked up, but obviously not, since a man and woman stood near the tee-shirt rack, the woman sorting through hoodies and sweatpants. Both looked up as she approached.

“Lucky for us you’re open. We have a list of things we need,” the man exclaimed. He thrust a scribbled sheet of yellow tab paper at her as she drew closer. The woman offered a shy smile, which Kendall returned, even as she shook her head and tried to hand the paper back.

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t open until the end of next week. You could try Fake’s, in town. I know he sells all kinds of things,” she replied. She hated chancing the loss of prospective repeat customers, but she still had a bank account to set up and financial spreadsheets to finish. She had no way to accept cash or credit cards yet.

“I could write you a check. We’re leaving for Talkeetna and we’re in a hurry.” He pointed toward the sleeping bags on display. “We only need a few things, and I know Fake doesn’t have them. We have to be over at the runway to catch our ride into Anchorage and we’re already cutting it close.” The man was nothing if not persistent.

“Well . . .” With reluctance, she held out her hand. “All right. Let’s see your list again.”

Based on what she knew of her existing stock, she could fill most of their order. While she and the woman collected items and piled them on the counter, the man chattered about everything from salmon fishing to puffin sightings. Most of it made scant sense to Kendall and confirmed her suspicion she’d be a
cheechako
for some time to come.

“So, you’re from Oregon, huh? Been up here long?” The woman’s soft-spoken question took Kendall by uneasy surprise as she placed a can of Deet on the counter. She gave the woman a sharp glance but encountered nothing other than friendly curiosity.

Still, her privacy was innate and damned important, so she prevaricated as politely as she could. “Why do you ask?”

The woman pointed to the long-sleeved shirt Kendall wore. “It says
Pendleton
on your shirt. The only Pendleton I know is in Oregon.” She nodded toward the man. “Ed and I have been there lots of times.”

“Um—”
Oh, crap.
Kendall pressed a hand to the raised lettering on the front of her shirt. She’d forgotten about the city pennant silk screened onto the front of the old sweatshirt. Comfort had been uppermost in her mind when she’d dressed that morning. The possibility of running into anyone who might be familiar with Pendleton—and its residents—hadn’t occurred to her this far north. She’d had a difficult time dealing with Thom Banks’s curiosity, weeks ago when he delivered her to Staamat, but nobody else in town had even asked where she’d previously lived. Until now.

Double-crap.

“Yes, Pendleton’s very nice. I have three different styles of thermals for women.” Kendall held the packages out, hoping her customer would take the hint and the change of subject.

No such luck. The woman tilted her head to the side as she studied Kendall. Her eyes narrowed. Kendall resisted the urge to turn and run into the back and lock the door.

“You look kind of familiar, come to think of it. Pendleton’s not huge. Maybe I’ve seen you around?” The woman posed it as a friendly question, but her eyes remained narrowed.

Kendall forced a smile she hoped was natural. “Possibly. I didn’t live there very long. Maybe you’ve seen me in Staamat.”

“No, that’s not it. Ed and I both teach over in New Mina. We just come here when we fly out so we can visit with friends first,” the woman replied. She stared a few more seconds, then shrugged with a quick shake of her head. “Now it’s going to drive me nuts until I think of where I’ve seen you.”

Oh, God.
“I’ve been to New Mina a few times. You must have seen me there.” Kendall fussed with the items on the counter until all the bar codes were face-up. As casually as possible, she added, “I have one of those faces. I look like everyone’s sister or aunt.”

The woman tossed her a sudden grin. “Honey, if I had an aunt who looked like you, I’d be thoroughly depressed.” She must have decided to give up, for she laid her hand on one of the thermal packages. “I’ll take two sets of this one, tops and bottoms. Just in case I freeze my tail off in Talkeetna.”

“Does it get cold enough to need thermal underwear?” Kendall asked as she tallied the sale. Her fingers trembled. It was a wonder she could hit the right buttons on her adding machine.

The woman reached into her purse for her wallet. “Definitely. Plus we’re going climbing, and it stays cold in the mountains all summer long.” She accepted the pen Kendall gave her and flipped open her checkbook. “This’ll be our third climb. I can’t wait.” She tore off the check with a flourish and handed it to Kendall.

As she scribbled out a quick receipt, Kendall caught the woman staring at her yet again. This time she couldn’t quell her nerves.
Please, just take Ed and leave.

With an effort Kendall turned and smiled brightly as Ed rejoined his wife at the counter. “I hope you have a wonderful trip. Do you need any help with your purchases?”

“Nah, we can get everything.” Ed hefted three bags and his wife grabbed two. “We’ll just take this out. I’ll come back for the rest.” He turned toward the door, but abruptly swung around and eyeballed Kendall closely. “You look awfully familiar. Are you from Oregon? It says ‘Pendleton’ on your shirt.”

Denn pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He ran his fingers through his hair, loosened from the collar of his summer-weight jacket, and tossed it over his shoulders. It had grown a lot over the winter. He should cut it all off, but old habits were hard to break. In over fifteen years, he’d never had more than a cursory trim.

Besides, Kendall liked his hair long
.
If he went by the way her eyes lingered on him, it could be his hair or his body she found attractive. He’d be happy with either. Or both.

He rolled down the window and let in the soft breeze and the sound of birdsong. Late spring was his favorite time of year, when the sun broke slowly over Staamat’s four hills and the days seemed almost endless. The warmer season didn’t last very long, but like everyone else, he enjoyed the approach of each Alaskan summer.

And if he were lucky, he’d talk Kendall into spending the rest of the day—and evening—with him. He opened his door and jumped out, then strode toward the store. She’d been elusive these past few weeks. He knew she had a lot on her plate, with The Last Outfitter Grand Opening, and setting up her apartment. He’d swung by the Four Hills a few times, but kept missing her. Instead, he’d ended up in Wendy’s kitchen with a cup of coffee and a handful of cookies, or a slab of fruit pie, her specialty. Not that he minded hanging out with a friend, but it irked him to think Kendall might be trying to avoid him. Especially when he had no idea why she’d need to.

Her cool demeanor hid something, he was certain of it. Her hesitancy and wariness stood out, palpable. Oh, he could joke and tease her out of it. She’d had fun with him in New Mina, and in his opinion the day sped by far too fast. When he’d dropped her off at the Four Hills, it took all his willpower not to cage her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Instead, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He’d felt ridiculously giddy when she smiled at him before she turned and ran up the steps to the porch.

Kendall Martin would no doubt welcome him as a friend, but he’d bet money she’d bolt and hide if she had an inkling of what he really wanted from her. His heart would pound as soon as he saw her, and being around her made a crappy day seemed brighter. The way her hair caught gold in the sun and tumbled over her shoulders made him ache to bury his hands in it and turn her face up to his—

Whoa. Calm down, Nulo.

He had yet to ask her for a real date, but that would change shortly, for he had every intention of taking her out, tomorrow night. He grinned as he turned the handle and found it deadbolted. His cautious, careful Kendall.

Not mine. Not yet, anyway.

At his knock, she answered the door, a harried look on her face and a toilet plunger in her hand. Some sort of gray grime speckled one cheek and her hair hung in wild, damp curls around her slumped shoulders.

Denn bit back a chuckle and inquired calmly, “Having fun yet?”

She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I was having a good day, more or less, until I tried to pour a bucket of soapy water in the toilet. It kind of exploded when I flushed.”

He waved a hand around the store. “Looks pretty clean in here. How many buckets of soapy water did you pour down the john?”

“Three or four.” The words came out in a mumble. “And I might have left the sponge in the fourth bucket.”

“Oh, crap.” He emitted one sharp bark of laughter.

“Yes, exactly. Crap.” She plucked at her sodden hair, the way women do when they think they’re not looking their best.

Actually, she looked adorable. She’d probably skin him alive if he said so. He had to work at keeping his face solemn. “Three or four, huh? And a sponge. Guess I should have warned you. Most of the septic systems around here are shallow. There’s permafrost in a lot of the lower tundra areas,” he explained when she seemed confused. “Permafrost is frozen ground which never thaws out, even in the summer. Pair it up with the soggy tundra, and you’ve got potential trouble if you dig too deep. So the systems can’t handle sudden amounts of water. Or sponges.”

“Okay, I get it. No more dumping buckets of water in the toilet.” She scooped the damp curls over her shoulder and wiped a trickle of water from her neck. “No more sponges, either.”

“There you go.” He nudged the plunger. “Do you need any help, or has everything gone down the drain?”

“Ha ha. It’s fine. I just need to scrub myself raw. Some of the”—she brushed her grimy cheek and made a face—“ah, liquid, splashed upward when I plunged downward. Not pleasant.” She set the plunger on the floor and shot him a quizzical glance. “What are you doing here? Do you need to use the truck?”

“Nope.” Anxious to make small talk instead of jumping in with date demands, he gave the store his full attention. In a short space of time, she’d worked wonders. “You’ve made a big difference in here. It’s a lot more organized than when Nulty had the place.”

“Organization is my middle name. A place for everything, and . . . well, you know.” She took a rag from her back pocket and rubbed at the nearest surface, a tall glass shelf that already sparkled. Denn followed the circular movement with his eyes until he made himself dizzy. Surely no glass shelf in the world was meant to be so clean. He reached for her hand and trapped it under his, stilling her movement. She jerked at the contact and raised her face to his.

Fear clouded those big brown eyes. During their lunch in New Mina, they’d been brightly amused. Today they were flat-out scared.

Why the hell is she so afraid of being touched?

“Kendall, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She turned, stuffing the rag in her pocket. He caught her arm with a firm grip, but she wrenched it away, walked stiffly to the door, and held it open. “I need to close up now.” She kept her eyes averted from his.

“Kendall—”

She shook her head once, hard, and stared at a point just past his shoulder. “Chief Nulo, I value my privacy. I have the right to. I also have the right to ask you to leave, if you’re bothering me.” She gestured toward the door. “I appreciate your kindness in letting me use your truck, but it doesn’t mean you get to stick your nose in my business.”

“I wasn’t—”

She held up a hand to cut him off. “Yes, you were.”

Frustrated, Denn sighed as he walked to the door. Before he stepped out, he gave it one last try. “I wasn’t being nosy, Kendall. It’s just—you acted rattled, and I wanted to make sure everything was all right.”

He waited until she faced him with obvious reluctance. “I came here to ask you if you’d like to have dinner with me and Luna tomorrow night. Around seven.” He tried a winning smile. “I make a mean pot roast.”

She shuddered. “I told you, I don’t ever eat red meat.”

Denn raised a brow at her vehemence. The other day in New Mina, she’d scarfed down Betty’s reindeer burger, but now probably wasn’t the best time to point it out.

Instead, he smiled easily. “Okay, how about fish? Do you like fish?” At least she hadn’t outright refused. Yet.