Midnight Sons Volume 1 Read online

  Abbey’s heart fluttered with a mixture of dread and excitement as she pulled on her sweater and headed out the door. She was eager to meet Allison, eager to have another woman move to Hard Luck. If she remembered correctly, Allison was the woman Christian had mentioned the night he’d phoned—his dinner date.

  It was inevitable that she’d run into Sawyer at the airfield; avoiding him in a town the size of Hard Luck was impossible. Nor did she wish to. She’d been angry and upset the last time they spoke. She wasn’t accustomed to a lot of attention from men—it flustered and alarmed her. Then, without intending to, Sawyer had made everything worse. What upset her most was the way he’d insinuated she was hoping to trap him into marriage.

  Despite what Sawyer might have thought, she wasn’t planning to remarry. When she’d applied for the job, she’d done so because that was what she needed—a job. Going to Alaska had sounded adventurous, and small-town life had appealed to her. She hadn’t come to “be friendly” to a bunch of love-starved men.

  Unfortunately, once her children learned that Pete Livengood had proposed to her, they’d jumped on the bandwagon. Not that they wanted her to marry Pete. Oh, no, they were campaigning for Sawyer. Both Scott and Susan made sure they casually dropped his name at every opportunity. It was Sawyer this and Sawyer that, until she was sick of hearing about him. Abbey didn’t have the heart to tell them he was the last man she’d marry—even if he asked her. Not with that attitude of his. He’d always believe she’d tricked him into marriage.

  The day was overcast and cool, a contrast to the warm sunshine the area had enjoyed all week. Shivering a little, she walked to the airfield with Pearl.

  Half the town was there waiting for the plane’s arrival. Scott pulled up next to her on Sawyer’s old bicycle, shading his eyes as he gazed up into the sky.

  “What’s the big deal?” he asked.

  “Sawyer’s new secretary’s coming.”

  “Does she have any kids?”

  The question amused Abbey. She wondered what Sawyer would do if another woman showed up on his doorstep with a family in tow.

  “Probably not,” she said.

  “Are the men gonna want to marry her, too?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What about Sawyer?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she answered, more emphatically this time.

  “We want you to marry Sawyer,” her son persisted. “Susan and me like him a whole lot, and he likes us.”

  “Scott, please!”

  “But if he might marry this new lady, don’t you think you should do something about it?”

  “No,” she said in her sternest voice, praying no one was listening in on their conversation.

  “I hear the plane,” Pearl shouted.

  Abbey squinted into the hazy skies. She heard the buzz of an approaching aircraft, but couldn’t see anything just yet. She recalled the excitement she’d felt when she’d flown into Hard Luck and looked down to find such a large welcoming committee.

  The plane appeared over the horizon and slowly descended toward the dirt runway. Once it had taxied to a stop, Duke Porter hurried over and lowered the steps.

  A minute later, a woman dressed in a hot-pink silk jumpsuit moved slowly down the steps. Like royalty, Abbey thought.

  Allison Reynolds was beautiful, she saw with a small pang of jealousy. Knock-your-eyes-out gorgeous. Long legs that seemed to reach all the way to her earlobes, a more-than-ample bosom and a body that would stop New York City traffic. Allison gave a beauty-queen wave and the smile she bestowed on the crowd of welcomers was bright enough to create a glare.

  Abbey suspected every man present was wiping drool off his chin. Until that moment, she’d avoided looking for Sawyer, but now she scanned the crowd, seeking him out. She found him, his intense blue eyes glued to the latest arrival with undeniable interest. Just like the others.

  Her heart chilled as she admitted to herself that he really wasn’t any different. Disillusioned—and determined to ignore it—she squared her shoulders and looked away.

  Lonely men, indeed. Well, they were getting what they wanted with Allison Reynolds. Thank heaven.

  Just as they had the day Abbey and the kids came, everyone assembled at the Hard Luck Café for introductions. Allison Reynolds was ushered inside and seated while the town put forth its best effort to impress her.

  Abbey stood back and waited for a chance to welcome her. From her position by the wall, she had a clear view of the newcomer. Abbey sincerely hoped she and Allison would be friends. At the moment she could do with a friend.

  “I’d like to talk to you.”

  Abbey started, then turned to discover Sawyer standing next to her. “Do you always sneak up behind people?” she asked in an angry whisper.

  “Only when I’m desperate.” He leaned one shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “It’s Mitch Harris, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “The other man who proposed.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business. Was it Mitch?” he growled in a low whisper. Then not giving her time to answer, he asked again. “What about Ben Hamilton? I wouldn’t put it past the old goat. He probably did it just to rile me.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It worked, too.”

  “As I said earlier, none of this concerns you.” If there’d been anywhere to move, Abbey would have moved, but the café was packed. Why on earth would Sawyer choose this precise minute to talk to her?

  “You aren’t marrying any of them.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m serious, Abbey. Call me a male chauvinist or whatever else you want, but if you’re so intent on finding a husband, I’ll marry you myself.” His voice was harsh.

  “You’ll marry me yourself?” she asked, incredulous. “How generous of you. How benevolent!”

  “I mean it,” he said.

  “Tell me, Sawyer, why would you do anything so…so drastic?” Mingled with her anger was a pain that cut deep, despite her disenchantment. This was exactly the type of behavior she’d come to expect from Sawyer—yet she was disappointed.

  Her question appeared to hit its mark. His face tensed and the muscle in his jaw leapt. Unable to listen to any more, Abbey walked out of the café. She’d introduce herself to Allison later.

  She’d gone only a few feet when she heard the screen door slam behind her. Quickening her steps, she hurried away.

  “Abbey, wait!”

  Half a minute later, he’d caught up with her. “For heaven’s sake, will you stop long enough to listen to me?”

  Her throat was so clogged with tears, it was impossible to answer him. He steered her onto the airfield and into a nearby hangar, then turned to face her. His outstretched arms touched her shoulder.

  Abbey kept her face averted, praying he’d say whatever he intended to say so she could leave.

  “Why do I want to marry you?” He sounded as confused as she did.

  “You don’t want me,” she accused. “All you care about is making sure I don’t accept anyone else’s proposal. Your ridiculous male pride couldn’t take that! Well, if you thought you were appeasing me with this insulting offer of marriage, you’re dead wrong.”

  “I do want you,” he argued, pulling her into his arms.

  Her heart stopped, then jerked back to life as he directed her mouth to his. The kiss was long and thorough. Groaning softly, he kissed her again, hungrily this time. Her lips parted, and she slid her arms tightly around his hard waist.

  They engaged in a series of warm, moist kisses that became more and more intense. He drew her closer until the full lengths of their bodies were pressed together. She felt the rise and fall of his chest and knew her own breathing was as labored.

  Suddenly, looking stunned, he dragged his mouth from hers. He dropped his hands, releasing her, and stepped back.

  Abbey studied him for a moment. “Don’t look so worried, Sawyer,” she said with wo
unded dignity. “I’m not going to accept your proposal.” She spun on her heel and walked away, grateful he chose not to follow her.

  As it happened, Abbey got a chance to talk to Allison Reynolds later that same afternoon. They met in the road outside the library. After a few minutes’ conversation, it was apparent—at least to Abbey—that the other woman had no intention of staying in Hard Luck and probably never had.

  “You’re Abbey,” Allison said, smiling. “Christian told me he’d hired you.” She crossed her arms and swatted at a mosquito. “Can we talk?” Allison asked, doing a poor imitation of Joan Rivers. “I’m dying to find out how things have gone for you since you arrived.” Allison glanced both ways, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Are you going to stay?”

  “I plan to. So far, I love Alaska.”

  “But it’s summer,” Allison said as if this was something Abbey hadn’t yet figured out. “I don’t think anyone was serious about us staying all winter, do you? I mean, this is the Arctic. I don’t go anywhere in the winter where there isn’t a hot tub.”

  “I’ve never lived through an Arctic winter before, so I can’t say, but I do know I’m going to try.”

  “You are?” The new secretary for Midnight Sons spoke as though Abbey was making a serious mistake. “Anyway, I can’t talk long. I’m supposed to meet Ralph and Pearl, and they’re going to drive me out to the cabin. I’ve never had a home of my own. Christian said it’s a quaint little place. I can hardly wait to see it. But I do hope someone finds a way to get the rest of my luggage up here soon. They seemed to think I could pack everything in three suitcases.”

  Before Abbey could describe her own experience, Allison was gone. Actually Abbey was just as glad not to be around when Allison viewed her “quaint” new home.

  The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, the main attraction being the vivacious and beautiful Allison Reynolds and not the newly opened Hard Luck Lending Library.

  Pearl Inman was watering her cabbage plants when Abbey walked past on her way home.

  “What a sorry disappointment Allison Reynolds is,” Pearl Inman muttered. “That Christian’s got mush for brains. I can’t imagine what he was thinking when he hired her.”

  Abbey grinned. “Himself most likely.”

  “That girl got a free trip to Alaska—which was all she wanted,” Pearl said with a disgruntled look. “Makes me downright angry to think of the way everyone’s been so excited about meeting her.”

  “She might change her mind and stay.”

  “It’d be a mistake if she did. Allison Reynolds is the type who causes more problems than she solves. My guess is she’ll be out of here before the week’s up.”

  Personally Abbey agreed with Pearl.

  “I saw you and Sawyer talking. I’m glad to hear you decided to put that boy out of his misery.”

  Abbey wasn’t aware that her troubles with Sawyer were common knowledge. “If Sawyer O’Halloran’s miserable, he has no one to blame but himself.”

  “Isn’t that the way it is with most folks?”

  Abbey had no argument there.

  “As for what happened to you this week, with the men and all, well—” Pearl sighed “—I have to say I blame Sawyer for that.”

  “So do I,” Abbey said. And if he assumed he could make everything better by tossing her a marriage proposal, he was mistaken.

  “The men wouldn’t have come at you like a herd of buffalo if Sawyer hadn’t tried to keep you for himself,” Pearl was saying. “Way I hear it, some of them were up in arms because of all the rules and restrictions he put on them.”

  “Rules?”

  “He didn’t want anyone pestering you. However, he didn’t include himself in that. But this is the only time I’ve ever seen Sawyer take advantage of a situation. You know,” the older woman said thoughtfully, “I don’t think he realized he was doing it. His intentions were to help you and the children get settled. I know for a fact that he never expected to fall in love with you.”

  Abbey looked away to hide her sudden tears. Sawyer didn’t love her. His proposal told her that much. He was afraid she’d accept someone else, so he’d put his offer on the table. Only a day earlier, he’d vehemently insisted he wasn’t marrying anyone.

  “I’ll see you later, Pearl,” Abbey murmured.

  Her friend cast her a look of concern. “You okay, sweetie?”

  Abbey nodded, but she wasn’t. What truly frightened her was that she’d fallen in love with Sawyer. Fallen fast and fallen hard. Once before, she’d proved what a poor judge of character she was when it came to men. She’d left the marriage broken, her confidence destroyed. She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes, feeling a strange new desolation.

  Abbey was nearly home when she noticed a truck driving toward her. She knew almost everyone in town by now and stared at the unfamiliar—yet somewhat familiar—face as the truck slowed to a stop.

  “Hello,” the driver said.

  “Hello,” she responded, sniffling a bit.

  “I’m Charles O’Halloran.”

  “Abbey Sutherland,” she whispered.

  Charles frowned. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on around here?”

  Sawyer sat in his office, rolling a pen between his palms. Every time he talked to Abbey he made matters worse. It started when he saw her standing on the airfield waiting for Allison Reynolds. His heart had actually hurt at the sight of her. Even now he didn’t know what he’d done that was so terrible, and Abbey wouldn’t tell him.

  A man had his pride, but he’d been willing to swallow it one more time, so he’d followed her into Ben’s place. Then, before he could stop himself, he was drilling her about other men, acting like a lunatic. He’d never been jealous in his life, and he didn’t know how to handle it. John, Pete, Duke, Ralph, Mitch and the other guys were his friends. Or had been.

  The office door opened and without a word of warning, in stepped his oldest brother. “Charles!” Sawyer bolted to his feet. “Hey, it’s good to see you! When’d you get in?”

  “About an hour ago.” Charlie slipped the backpack from his shoulders and set it aside.

  Charles looked tanned and healthy. He was a leaner, taller version of Sawyer, people often said.

  Walking over to the coffeepot, Charles poured himself a mug.

  Sawyer knew his brother well enough to recognize that he was upset. “You got a problem?”

  His brother sighed and sipped his coffee. “Can you explain how you and Christian managed to let your brains go all soggy in the space of a few weeks?”

  Sawyer laughed. “So you heard about the women.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “We flew them here. And there’s more coming.”

  “To live?”

  Sawyer nodded, the humor leaving him. Just as he’d expected, Charles didn’t think much of their scheme. “We came up with the idea of offering them those old cabins Dad built, plus twenty acres of land. In exchange, they have to live and work in Hard Luck for a year.” As he spoke, Sawyer realized how ludicrous the idea must sound to their levelheaded older brother. It had to him at first, too, but his arguments had grown less convincing after Abbey’s arrival.

  “The women are supposed to live in those old cabins?” Charles asked incredulously.

  “We cleaned them out, Charlie. They’re actually quite…clean.”

  With unexpected violence, Charles slammed down his mug. “Have you two lost your minds?”

  “No. We did what we thought was necessary to help the community grow.” Sawyer was aware that he came across as stiff and pompous.

  “It wasn’t Hard Luck you were thinking about when you advertised for women,” Charles countered. “You were thinking of yourselves.”

  “We were losing pilots left and right,” Sawyer snapped. “Phil’s gone, and we were about to lose Ralph and John as well. The men were willing to stay if we could bring in a few women.”

  “How many do y
ou have coming?”

  “I don’t know,” Sawyer confessed, trying to suppress his own anger. “Christian took care of that end of it.”

  “Was it Christian who sent up the beauty queen, or are you the one responsible for that?”

  “Beauty queen? Oh, you mean Allison. No, she was Christian’s idea. Okay, she probably won’t work out. We’re bound to have a few failures, but that’s the law of averages. Some women are going to adjust and become part of our community. Others won’t.”

  “Allison Reynolds wants out of the deal. Claims she was sold a false bill of goods. I talked to her myself—ran into her at Ben’s.”

  “Fine. I told you, I didn’t expect her to last. I’ll arrange for her flight back to Seattle. All I have to do is tell Christian, and he can send up another secretary. From what I understand, there are plenty of applicants.”

  “Which brings up something else neither of you seemed to trouble yourself with. The media.”

  Sawyer had gotten a number of inquiries, but he’d steadfastly refused to give interviews. Way up here, he felt relatively safe from the press.

  “You aren’t so naive as to think the press doesn’t know, are you?” Charles asked.

  “Of course they know,” Sawyer answered. “But they didn’t hear about it from me. Before long, it’ll be old news and everyone’ll leave us alone.”

  “For your information,” Charles said tersely, “I read about your scheme in the Anchorage newspaper while I was in Valdez.”

  “Okay, so the news is out,” Sawyer muttered, unconcerned. He had more important things to worry about than some unwanted publicity.

  “How do you think the media are going to react when they learn you’ve already got a failure on your hands? These women don’t know anything about Alaska. They left everything they had and flew up here, thinking God knows what and expecting something far different than they were promised.”

  “Okay, Allison’s a failure, and frankly that’s Christian’s fault. But Abbey Sutherland’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to Hard Luck. She’s already got the library organized and in operation.”