Midnight Sons Volume 1 Read online

  “We can ask her if she’s serious about wanting to retire,” Sawyer agreed, despite his reluctance. “But I won’t have Pearl thinking we don’t want her.”

  “I’ll talk to her myself,” Christian promised.

  “I could use a bit of help around here,” Ben said. “I’ve been feeling my age of late.”

  “You mean feeling your oats, don’t you?” John teased.

  Ben grinned. “Go ahead and add a part-time cook and waitress to your list.”

  There were smiles all around. Sawyer hated to be the one to put a damper on all these plans, but someone had to open their eyes to a few truths. “Has anyone figured out where these women are going to live?”

  It was almost comical to see the smiles fall in unison, as if they were marionettes and a puppetmaster was working their mouths. Still, Sawyer had to admit he was beginning to warm to the idea of recruiting women. Hard Luck could do with a few new faces and he wouldn’t object if those faces happened to be young, female and pretty. Not that he was the marrying kind. No, sirree. Not Sawyer O’Halloran. Not after what he’d seen with his parents. Their unhappiness had taught him early and taught him well that marriage meant misery. Although, in his opinion, Catherine Fletcher bore a lot of the blame….

  He shook his head. Marriage was definitely out, and he suspected his two brothers felt the same way. They must. Neither of them seemed inclined toward marriage, either.

  He returned his attention to the dilemma at hand. No one appeared to have any answers to his question about where these women would live, and Sawyer felt obligated to point out the less-than-favorable aspects of their plan. The more he considered it, the more certain he became that this idea was impossible. Attractive, perhaps—especially in a moment of weakness—but impossible.

  “It wouldn’t have worked, anyway,” he said.

  “Why not?” his brother asked.

  “Women are never satisfied with the status quo. They’d move to Hard Luck and immediately want to change things.” Sawyer had seen it before. “Well, I don’t want things changed. We have it good here.”

  “Yeah,” Ralph agreed, but without much enthusiasm.

  “Before we knew it,” Sawyer continued, “the ladies would have rings on their fingers and rings through our noses, and they’d be leading us around like…like sheep. Worse, they’d convince us that’s the way we want it.”

  “Nope. Not going to happen to me,” John vowed. “Unless…”

  Not giving him a chance to weaken, Sawyer went on. “We’d be making runs into Fairbanks for low-fat ice cream because one or other of them has a craving for chocolate without the calories.” Sawyer could picture it now. “They’d want us to watch our language and turn the TV off during dinner and shave every day…and…”

  “You’re right,” Duke said with conviction. “A woman would probably want me to shave off my beard.”

  The men grimaced as if they could already feel the razor.

  Women in Hard Luck would have his pilots wrapped around their little fingers within a week, Sawyer thought. And after that, his men wouldn’t be worth a damn.

  Christian hadn’t spoken for several minutes. Now he slowly rubbed his hand along his jaw. “What about the cabins?”

  “The old hunting cabins your father built on the outskirts of town?” Ralph asked.

  Sawyer and Christian exchanged a look. “Those are the ones,” Christian said. “Dad built them back in the fifties before the lodge was completed—you know, the lodge that burned down? Folks would fly in for hunting and fishing and he’d put them up there. They’re simple, one medium-size room without any conveniences.”

  “No one’s lived in those cabins for years,” Sawyer reminded his brother.

  “But they’re solid, and other than a little dirt there’s nothing wrong with them. Someone could live there. Easily.” Christian’s voice rose as he grew excited about the idea. “With a little soap and water and a few minor repairs, they’d be livable in nothing flat.”

  Sawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A city gal would take one look at those cabins and leave on the next flight out. “But there isn’t any running water or electricity.”

  “No,” Christian agreed, “not yet.”

  Now Sawyer understood, and he didn’t like it. “I’m not putting any money into fixing up those run-down shacks.” Charles would have a fit if he let Christian talk him into doing anything so stupid.

  “Those old cabins aren’t worth much, are they?” Christian asked.

  Sawyer hesitated. He recognized his brother’s tone. Christian had something up his sleeve.

  “No,” Sawyer admitted cautiously.

  “Then it wouldn’t hurt to give the cabins away.”

  “Give them away?” Sawyer echoed. It stood to reason that no one would pay for them. Who’d want them anyway, even if they were free?

  “We’re going to need something to induce women to move to Hard Luck,” Christian said. “We aren’t offering them marriage.”

  “Damn right we’re not.” John gulped down a slug of coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Companionship is all I’m interested in,” another of the pilots added. “Female companionship.”

  “We don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking this is about marriage.”

  “Exactly.”

  Sawyer looked around the room at his pilots. “Marriage is what practically all women are after,” he said with more certainty than he actually felt.

  “There’s plenty of jobs in the lower forty-eight,” Christian said in a perfectly reasonable tone. This was always where Sawyer ran into trouble with his younger brother. Christian could propose the most ridiculous idea in the most logical way. “True?”

  “True,” Sawyer agreed warily.

  “So, like I said before, we’ve got to offer these women some incentive to live and work in Hard Luck.”

  “You want to give them the cabins?” Sawyer scratched his head. “As an incentive?”

  “Sure. Then if they want to bring in electricity and running water they can do it with their own money.”

  Sawyer checked around to see what the others were thinking. He couldn’t find a dissenting look among them. Not on Ben’s face and certainly not on any of the others. He should’ve known Christian’s idea would take root in the fertile minds of his women-starved men.

  “We’d clean up the cabins a bit first,” Christian said as though this was the least they could do.

  “We found a bear in one of them last year,” Sawyer reminded his brother.

  “That bear didn’t mean any harm,” Ralph said confidently. “He was just having a look around, is all. I doubt he’ll be back after the shot of pepper spray Mitch gave him.”

  Sawyer just shook his head, bemused.

  “But it might not be smart to mention the bear to any of the women,” Ben was quick to add. “Women are funny about wild critters.”

  “Yeah,” John said in hushed tones, “take my word for it—don’t say anything about the wildlife.”

  “Say anything?” Sawyer asked. The men made it sound like he was going to personally interview each applicant.

  “To the women when you talk to them,” Ralph explained with exaggerated patience.

  “I’m going to be talking to these women?”

  “Why, sure,” Duke said, as if that had been understood from the beginning. “You’ll have to interview them, you or Christian. Especially if you’re going to offer them housing when they accept a job in Hard Luck.”

  “You’d better throw in some land while you’re at it,” Ben said, reaching for the coffeepot. He refilled the mugs and set the pot back on the burner. “You O’Hallorans got far more of it than you know what to do with. Offer the women a cabin and twenty acres of land if they’ll live and work in Hard Luck for one year.”

  “Great idea!”

  “Just like the old days when the settlers first got here.”

  “Those cabins aren’t
on any twenty acres.” Sawyer raised his arms to stop the discussion. “It’d be misleading to let anyone think they were, or that—”

  “No one said the cabins had to be on acreage, did they?” Duke broke in. “Besides, to my way of thinking, people shouldn’t look a gift house in the mouth.” He chuckled at his own feeble joke. “House, get it? Not horse.”

  “A year sounds fair,” Christian said decisively, ignoring him. “If it doesn’t work out, then they’re free to leave, no hard feelings.”

  “No hard feelings.” John nodded happily.

  “Now, just a minute,” Sawyer said. Was he the only one here who possessed any sense? He’d come into the Hard Luck Café for a simple cup of coffee, discouraged by the news that Phil was leaving. The morning had rapidly gone from bad to worse.

  “How are we going to let women know about your offer?” Ralph asked.

  “We’ll run some ads like we said,” Christian told him. “But maybe not in magazines. That’ll take too long. I’ve got a business trip planned to Seattle, so we can put ads in the papers there and I’ll interview the women who apply.”

  “Hold on,” Sawyer said, frowning. “We can’t go giving away those cabins, never mind the acreage, without talking to Charles first. Besides, there are antidiscrimination laws that make it illegal to advertise a job for women only.”

  Christian grinned. “There’re ways around that.”

  Sawyer rolled his eyes. “But we really do need to discuss this with Charles.” Their oldest brother was a silent partner in the O’Hallorans’ air charter service. He should have a voice in this decision; after all, they’d be giving away family-owned cabins and land.

  “There isn’t time for that,” Christian argued. “Charles’ll go along with it. You know he will. He hasn’t paid that much attention to the business since he started working for Alaska Oil.”

  “You’d better have an attorney draw up some kind of contract,” Ben suggested.

  “Right.” Christian added that to his list. “I’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll write the ad this morning and see about getting it in the Seattle paper. It might be best if we placed it in another city, as well. It wouldn’t be much trouble to go down to Oregon and interview women from Portland. I’ve got plenty of time.”

  “Hey, good idea,” John murmured.

  “I’ll design the application,” Sawyer said reluctantly. This was happening much too fast. “You know, guys…” He hated to throw another wrench in the works, but someone needed a clear head, and it was obvious he’d been elected. “If any woman’s foolish enough to respond, those old cabins had better be in decent shape. It’s going to take a lot of work.”

  “I’ll help,” John said enthusiastically.

  “Me, too.”

  “I expect we all will.” Duke drained the last of his coffee, then narrowed his gaze on Christian. “Just make sure you get a blonde for me.”

  “A blonde,” Christian repeated.

  Sawyer closed his eyes and groaned. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

  Chapter 1

  It had been one of those days. Abbey Sutherland made herself a cup of tea, then sat in the large overstuffed chair and propped her feet on the ottoman. She closed her eyes, soaking in the silence.

  The morning had started badly when Scott overslept, which meant he and Susan had missed the school bus. Seven-year-old Susan had insisted on wearing her pink sweater, which was still in the dirty-clothes hamper, and she’d whined all the way to school. Abbey had driven them, catching every red light en route.

  By the time she arrived at the library, she was ten minutes late. Mrs. Duffy gave her a look that could have curdled milk.

  But those minor irritations faded after lunch. Abbey received notice that the library’s budget for the next fiscal year had been reduced and two positions would be cut—the positions held by the most recently hired employees. In other words, Abbey was going to lose her job in less than three months.

  She finally got home at six o’clock, tired, short-tempered and depressed. That was when Mr. Erickson, the manager of the apartment complex, hand-delivered a note informing her the rents were being raised.

  It was the kind of day even hot fudge couldn’t salvage.

  Sensing her mood, the kids had acted up all evening. Abbey was exhausted, and she didn’t think reruns of Matlock were going to help.

  Sipping her tea, she wondered what had happened to throw her life off course. She had a savings account, but there wasn’t enough in it to pay more than a month’s worth of bills. She refused to go to her parents for money. Not again. It had been too humiliating the first time, although they’d been eager to help. Not once had her mother or father said “I told you so,” when she filed for divorce, although they’d issued plenty of warnings when she’d announced her intention to marry Dick Sutherland. They’d been right. Five years and two children later, Abbey had returned to Seattle emotionally battered, broken-hearted and just plain broke.

  Her parents had helped her back on her feet despite their limited income and lent her money to finish her education. Abbey had painstakingly repaid every penny, but it had taken her almost three years.

  The newspaper, still rolled up, lay at her feet, and she picked it up. She might as well start reading through the want ads now, although she wasn’t likely to find another job as an assistant librarian. With cuts in local government spending, positions in libraries were becoming rare these days. But if she was willing to relocate…

  “Mom.” Scott stood beside her chair.

  “Yes?” She climbed out of her depression long enough to manage a smile for her nine-year-old son.

  “Jason’s dog had her puppies.”

  Abbey felt her chest tighten. Scott had been asking for a dog all year. “Honey, we’ve already been over this a hundred times. The apartment complex doesn’t allow pets.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted one,” he said defensively. “All I said was that Jason’s dog had puppies. I know I can’t have a dog as long as we live here, but I was thinking that maybe with the rent increase we might move.”

  “And if we do move,” Abbey said, “you want me to look for a place where we can have a dog.”

  Her son grinned broadly. “Jason’s puppies are really, really cute, Mom. And they’re valuable, too! But you know what kind are my favorite?”

  She did, but she played along. “Tell me.”

  “Huskies.”

  “Because the University of Washington mascot is a husky.”

  “Yeah. They have cool eyes, don’t they? And I really like the way their tails loop up. I know they’re too big for me to have as a pet, but I still like them best.”

  Abbey held out her arm to her son. He didn’t cuddle with her much anymore. That was kid stuff to a boy who was almost ten. But tonight he seemed willing to forget that.

  He clambered into the chair next to her, rested his head against her shoulder and sighed. “I’m sorry I overslept this morning,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “That’s all right.” There was a pause. “I promise to get out of bed when you call from now on, okay?”

  “Okay.” Abbey closed her eyes, breathing in the clean shampoo scent of his hair.

  They sat together for a few more minutes, saying nothing.

  “You’d better get back to bed,” Abbey said, although she was reluctant to see him go.

  Scott climbed out of the chair. “Are we going to move?” he asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

  “I guess we are,” she said and smiled.

  “’Night, Mom.” Scott smiled, too, then walked down the hall to his bedroom.

  Abbey’s heart felt a little lighter as she picked up the paper and peeled off the rubber band. She didn’t bother to look at the front page, but turned directly to the classifieds.

  The square box with the large block printing attracted her attention immediately. “LONELY MEN IN HARD LUCK, ALASKA, OFFER JOBS, HOMES AND LAND
.” Below in smaller print was a list of the positions open.

  Abbey’s heart stopped when she saw “librarian.”

  Hard Luck, Alaska. Jobs. A home with land. Twenty acres. Good grief, that was more than her grandfather had owned when he grew raspberries in Puyallup a generation earlier.

  Dragging out an atlas, Abbey flipped through the pages until she found Alaska. Her finger ran down the list of town names until she came across Hard Luck. Population 150.

  She swallowed. A small town generally meant a sense of community. That excited her. As a girl, she’d spent summers on her grandparents’ farm and loved it. She wanted to give her children the same opportunity. She was sure the three of them could adjust to life in a small town. In Alaska.

  Using the atlas’s directions to locate the town, Abbey drew her finger across one side of the page and down the other.

  Her excitement died. Hard Luck was above the Arctic Circle. Oh, dear. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea, after all.

  The following morning, Abbey reviewed her options.

  She set out a box of cold cereal, along with a carton of milk. A still-sleepy Scott and Susan pulled out chairs and sat at the table.

  “Kids,” she said, drawing a deep breath, “what would you say if I suggested we move to Alaska?”

  “Alaska?” Scott perked up right away. “That’s where they have huskies!”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “It’s cold there, isn’t it?” Susan asked.

  “Very cold. Colder than it’s ever been in Seattle.”

  “Colder than Texas?”

  “Lots colder,” Scott said in a superior older-brother tone. “It’s so cold you don’t even need refrigerators, isn’t that right, Mom?”

  “Uh, I think they probably still use them.”

  “But they wouldn’t need to if they didn’t have electricity. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Could I have a dog there?”

  Abbey weighed her answer carefully. “We’d have to find that out after we arrived.”