Deep in the Alaskan Woods Read online

  “How about going into town tonight? You promised me a meal, though I’m paying.”

  As if she were a sixteen-year-old facing a first date, her insides flip-flopped. “Oh. Yes, I’m glad you can get away.”

  “I don’t want to give you any more time to change your mind,” he teased. “Pick you up at six? Very casual. The place has good, local food and line dancing. See you then.”

  He was gone. And she was a goner for him already, she admitted only to herself. How had this happened so fast? But she had to be careful, take it slow. Keep her own counsel, not be swayed by how impressed her cousins might be that she had somehow breeched the walls of Quinn Mantell. And really, she’d found by knowing Dr. Lyle Grayson and how he changed over time that once she was inside those walls, it could be hard and dangerous to get out.

  14

  The little town of Falls Lake reminded Alex of the patchwork quilt on her bed. It was a random mix of low frame houses, two of which were B and Bs. She saw trailers, a few Quonset hut homes as they passed.

  “Later I’ll drive you by a little bungalow I’ve had my eye on for a while, but I want to show you something you’ll like—I think.”

  “Oh, look at that,” she said as they drove down the only main street, though other short ones cut off here and there. “The grocery store is just called Grocery Store and the bank, Bank. I see some wooden sidewalks, too. This place reminds me of an old western movie.”

  “Hopefully no gunslingers or shootouts at high noon.” He turned down one of the side streets. “That’s the school where Chip will go,” he told her pointing. “Before we hit Caribou Bill’s there,” he added with a nod at a wooden building that sat unattached to others on the edge of town, “I want to show you a couple of greenhouses. Maybe you could rent some space there until you can build your own out of town. I checked—they are about four hundred dollars to build one that size, not counting the lighting.”

  Three humpbacked fiberglass-and-wood buildings came into view, lighted from within. She could glimpse the blur of green hues inside, even some hanging plants shot through with color.

  “You do know how to show a girl a good time,” she said.

  He laughed. “Yeah, you go with me deep into the woods twice and I suddenly start to think about growing plants domestically.”

  She had no comeback for that, but then this entire place, this adventure, this man, were unbelievable. She almost forgot about Spenser, but she’d left him with her cousins and Chip for a few hours.

  Most of the homes and stores had their own woodpiles and a few had small fenced gardens with massive cabbage heads as well as rows of root vegetables. Several homes had spitted salmon drying, some within fences to keep dogs and wild animals away from the fish. A few of them were covered with wire or a crude roof, evidently to keep eagles, owls and other raptors away. She thought of the bear tracks and claw marks near her window again. Should she tell Quinn, ask him about them? She didn’t want to ruin their evening together.

  The outside lights were just coming on at Caribou Bill’s when they circled back and got out. Quinn parked the truck beside others in front of a hitching post. She let him come around and open the door for her, so this really was a date. And back in “civilized” Chicago, Lyle hadn’t done that for quite a while.

  She startled as the outside lights came on—Caribou Bill’s in white neon, no less. “I do not miss garish signs,” she told him.

  “I can do without any lights at night but moon and stars.”

  Inside, he led her to a booth, high-fiving several guys on their way in. A mounted caribou head stared down at them surrounded by a row of trophies on display—for bowling and Frisbee contests, Quinn said. To her surprise, he sat on the same side as she did instead of across from her. Was he blocking her in to protect her or did he plan to invite someone else to join them?

  “The usual, Q-Man?” one guy asked him.

  “Sure.” He turned to her. “What would you like to drink?”

  “White wine, please.”

  “And white wine for the lady,” he called out.

  “Oh, so they do have a bit of civilization here,” she said.

  “By the way, the other place in town I like is called Sourdough Sandy’s but we can hit that another time. They have a microbrewery there but it’s overly dark inside.”

  “Low lighting?”

  “Mostly because they’re at the forest edge of town so they have bear-proof windows that darken the place.”

  “Oh, there could be bears around town, too?”

  “Some. The deputy tries to shoo them away. Only had to shoot one. I steer clear.”

  “What’s a bear-proof window?” she asked, thinking they could maybe have them installed at the lodge. When should she show him her photos?

  Three couples were getting up to line dance. She didn’t want to throw a pall over this evening, their first date, if you didn’t count two treks into the wilds.

  “Bear windows have crisscrossed metal over them,” he said, handing her a laminated menu from the same rack that held condiments. “The pine blueberries are huge here and the sourdough biscuits and gravy are great.”

  “Lots of salmon dishes, of course,” she said, deciding definitely not to bring up the bear claw and footprints right now. “Wow. Owl soup? Wouldn’t that be against conservation laws?”

  “It’s made with ham and sausage, and should be called night owl soup. It’s potent.” His voice lightened a bit. He looked over at her and grinned. “Stick with the salmon or sourdough—for now.”

  She did. With chardonnay. And she stuck with Quinn on the dance floor where Caribou Bill himself called out the Cowboy Hustle line dance steps to a country music recording. Step, step, turn, clap. Once she got it down, she smiled and saw Quinn was watching her like a hawk—or a night owl. Wasn’t he tired after all he’d done today? She had to admit she was starting to wear down.

  They had blueberries and ice cream for dessert and talked. It was dark when they went out. He unlocked the truck, and she climbed up. He came around and got in, closed the door and just sat there for a moment. Was he going to kiss her? Right here, now?

  “I hope we can do this again—maybe not at Caribou Bill’s,” he told her. “You should see Anchorage. Always something or other going on. You only skirted it driving in, but it’s a big city.”

  “I’d like that. Quinn, I have something to tell you, show you,” she said, angling toward him on her seat. “I’ve been hesitant because it has to do with a bear—one around the lodge, I think.”

  He turned toward her, too. “You saw a bear on lodge property? Could happen, but no one needs that. I did see single brown bear tracks when we were looking for Spenser, but it appeared the bear was old and just passing through.”

  “I—I didn’t see a bear, just the evidence of one, which is strange. I took pictures of its tracks on my phone, some claw marks, too. Chip found them, but his feet and maybe Meg’s and Suze’s messed up the tracks a bit, so if you could take a look at them. Sorry to spring this on you. I—I didn’t want to ruin our nice evening.”

  “Not only Spenser needs to be careful of bears, but Chip and all of you if one’s been marking its territory with scratches. Okay, when I drop you off, I’ll look at what’s left.”

  She showed him the pictures on her phone. He squinted at them. The light from the phone threw his high cheekbones and straight nose in sharp contrast and made his eyes look lit from within.

  “Those footprints are a smeared mess,” he said, frowning. “Josh did the same thing today at the camp over a couple of my track samples when he was ticked off about my video guy, Ryker, wanting to take Val with us on one of our easy tracking treks. I like to keep Ryker happy, but she is a pain. I thought you might like to go along, too—on that short hike tomorrow at two—and I do not consider you a pain.”

  “I’d like that,
to learn more about what you do. But you—you saw Josh mess up your track samples?”

  “No, I could tell from a couple of footprints he left behind it was him, but I haven’t settled with him yet. He’s a touchy personality, always has been, for some reasons I know. Let’s go to the lodge. I’ve got a big flashlight in the truck, and we’ll look around at the marks and tracks in person. Exciting way to end a first date, huh?”

  “I think our first date was when you saved Spenser.”

  “Then we slept together on our first date,” he countered with a tight grin as he started the engine.

  “Quinn—don’t you be telling anyone that lame joke!”

  She felt herself go into full blush, so she was glad it was getting dark. What to say? Keep it light? When they were going to look at claw marks and footprints outside her bedroom in the growing dark?

  “Despite wild animals or a ghostly voice or a man I hardly knew—you—I felt safe with you in the woods,” she said, her voice as calm as she could manage.

  “Good. Hold that thought while we check this out. And in the days to come, we’ll keep checking each other out.”

  He reached over the console to squeeze her knee. That touch shot all the way to her stomach, thighs—and heart.

  * * *

  The two of them bent over the blur of tracks. He shone the light over them from different directions, then skimmed the beam over the entire area.

  “A mess,” he said again, head down, sometimes squatting to look closer. “Several sets of prints like you said, a woman’s tracks, too, other than yours, probably Suze’s or Meg’s. And yes—what may or may not be a couple of bear prints. But despite the sets of human prints, I don’t see where the bear approaches and/or walks away, and those big beasts do not fly.”

  “Speaking of that, poor Chip went into raptures about a bush plane pilot flying over—thinking it was his dad—and saying that this room used to be his when he visited, so the scratches might be a sign from his father because a bear was seen near where his plane crashed.”

  “Just like a tracker, the kid’s always looking for signs. I get that. Chip sometimes blames himself because Ryan was rushing home to be with him on his birthday.”

  “So I hear,” she said, putting a hand up on Quinn’s shoulder. “It’s so sad that he feels that way, because he is not to blame and shouldn’t feel guilt.”

  “I hear you, Madam Psychiatrist.”

  “I’m not just talking about you. I not only sympathize but empathize with Chip—you, too. Quinn,” she rushed on, “my twin sister, Allie, died in our mother’s womb, and I took all the nutrients—the remnants of her body—from her. Obviously not my fault, but I think of her and miss her and sometimes blame myself, when I shouldn’t. I’ve had counseling but still...”

  She sucked in a big sob as he stood and pulled her to him. She pressed her face against his flannel shirt and hard chest. Still holding her cell phone with the photos, she put her arms around his waist and held on.

  “I knew there was something,” he said, resting his throat against her forehead. “Something I recognized, however different it was from my—from me.”

  They stood there for a moment in the darkness lit only by stars, a slice of new moon and his big flashlight’s beam jagging off into the darkness. “I understand,” he whispered. “You even understand it but can’t help hurting, right?”

  She nodded. “I feel like she’s with me. I resented how Meg and Suze had each other, but that’s so wrong and I haven’t yet told them why I stopped contact with them for so long.”

  He held her harder against him. “I’d better look close at the scratches,” he said when neither of them moved. “Then get you safe and sound inside so your cousins won’t give me the evil eye as if we’re teenagers coming in late.”

  They stepped apart more awkwardly than they had come together. He played the light over the claw marks again, back and forth.

  “Consistent with bear claws—a big bear,” he said. “But there’s something off with the depth of foot pads and the scratches, which should be deeper in the middle here as the bear’s paws raked downward.”

  “Do you mean these could be human-made? I haven’t seen any bear claws, except on Mary’s necklace.”

  “That’s was a gift from her grandmother, who was lost in the flood that drowned the little pioneer town.”

  “Oh, I see. So sad. But why would a person scratch up these outside logs? Publicity for the lodge? To scare or warn someone—me? I mean, maybe if someone knew I had that room. But hardly anyone knows me here yet.”

  “You’re sure your former fiancé could not have followed you here somehow?”

  “No sign of that, and believe me, I was careful to the point of paranoia.”

  “Let’s go inside. If you can, tomorrow, print me out a couple pictures of the footprints and the scratch marks from your photos, okay?”

  He took her arm and steered her to the back lodge entry. They used her key to go in. The common room was deserted but for Suze curled up on the couch, reading with a tiny reading lamp clipped onto the book itself. A dim light from the kitchen cast a shaft across the room.

  “Oh, hi, you two. No, I’m not like a mom or chaperone waiting up to see what time you got in. Just couldn’t sleep. Alex, Chip has Spenser with him, but I can get him for you. The other two dogs are in his bedroom, too—it’s like a pet shop. Or,” she said looking up at Quinn, “Spenser can just sleep there all night.”

  “That’s okay,” Alex told her. “I’ll just get Spenser in a little bit.”

  “Oh, sure. Good,” she said, grabbing her book and moving quickly toward her bedroom.

  “Alone at last,” Quinn teased her with a little grin. “Want to sit here a few minutes before I head out or walk you to your door?”

  She surprised herself by taking his hand and pulling him gently down on the leather couch beside her.

  “Thank you for not only a fun evening but for helping me find Spenser and trying to teach a city girl about the wilds. Yes, I’d like to go along tomorrow afternoon with your class. If Val and those three other women are there, I won’t feel out of place. I won’t expect any special treatment even if I’m there at the boss’s invitation.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll set out promptly at two, and I think you get the idea about how to dress for the wilds. Those wilds, I mean. The other kind in our future relationship—very different dress code.”

  He smiled before she could unravel his words, and tipped her closer for a kiss. As insane as she kept telling herself this all was—too fast, too much—she kissed him back, and their mouths melded. His free hand pulled her gently closer and then, somehow, it was over, though their gazes held in the dim light.

  “You know,” he said, his voice raspy as his gaze stayed riveted to hers, “the room I rent here to take a hot shower on rare occasions is two doors from your room.”

  She almost asked him how he knew which room was hers, but then she remembered—the room with the claw marks outside. And she realized almost anyone could figure out which room was hers by looking in the window when she left the curtain open and seeing dog toys and some of her products inside. Josh surely knew.

  She just nodded. He kissed her again, slanting his mouth over hers, pushing her a little, taking but giving a little more. With her eyes partly closed, she was spiraling up, not down, swirling, blinking in disbelief at how safe yet stunning this felt, watching their reflections in the black glass of the window where she could almost see her little store beyond...

  She jolted alert with a gasp and pulled away.

  “What?” he said, gripping her arms to steady her.

  “Something out there—someone. Ran across, I think, past the food pit. At least, I think so.”

  “A deer? Maybe a moose? Moose migrate through in the fall and look tall with their racks of horns. If it was a bear,
it would have been a lumbering gait, even if it went fast.”

  “I—I don’t know. Maybe a funny shadow with the moon out.”

  “The wind’s picking up. Maybe something blew across the yard.”

  He loosed her, turned and squinted out, but didn’t stand or go close to the glass.

  “I don’t see anything, Queen Alexandra,” he said, his voice both teasing and comforting. “Let’s get your watchdog and get you to your room for the night.” With another glance out the window he stood and tugged her to her feet. “I’ll wait here until you come back from Chip’s room with Spenser. I’ll bet Meg’s in with him. After Ryan died, she slept in Chip’s room to help him through nightmares while she, no doubt, had ones of her own. And with his outburst about his dad sending him signs today...”

  He was right. Meg answered Alex’s tap-tap on the door and brought Spenser out. She had been crying: her eyes were swollen and red. They hugged over the dog, and Alex went back into the common room where Quinn waited.

  The sleepy dog perked right up and let Quinn scratch behind his ears while he walked them to their room. How silly, she thought, but she had the overwhelming urge to jokingly say, Would you like to come in?

  Would she be joking? And what would he say? And do?

  “See you tomorrow,” was what he said.

  She nodded. He bent to kiss her, a brief peck.

  “More to come, Alex.”

  “Aye-aye, captain.”

  He patted her bottom and headed down the hall, his steps almost jaunty. She could tell by Spenser’s squirming that he’d like to go with him. It scared her how much she would, too.

  15

  When Alex joined her cousins for an early breakfast the next day, she saw Suze had her nose buried in the book she’d been reading the night before and it seemed Meg wasn’t talking, either. Chip was not in sight, but that was not unusual. Even Spenser had gone back to bed after his short walk outside—as if he were another tired six-year-old, which he very well might be.