Midnight Sons Volume 2 Read online

  It took Christian a long moment to answer. “Mistakes,” he finally repeated. “She made plenty of those in the beginning, but she seems to manage adequately enough now.”

  If the increase in profits was any indication, the woman had been a godsend, Charles mused. She’d skillfully organized the office and developed a system of rotation for the pilots that they felt was fair. That was something Sawyer and Christian had never accomplished. Mariah had even started an advertising program that had attracted new business. But Charles didn’t think Christian would appreciate his singing Mariah’s praises.

  “Her year’s up,” Christian pointed out. With a deepening scowl, he said, “She’s fulfilled her contractual obligation. The property and the cabin are legally hers.”

  “But you’d prefer it if she left.”

  “No,” Christian muttered, then almost as if he wasn’t aware he was speaking out loud, he added, “She spilled punch down the front of my suit at Mitch and Bethany’s reception.”

  “The way I heard it, you were as much to blame for that as she was.”

  Christian didn’t respond, apparently caught up in his own thoughts. “I’ve reviewed the applications I took last year, and there’s another woman I’d like to bring in.”

  “To take Mariah’s job?”

  “Yes,” Christian admitted. “You probably don’t remember, but I never intended to hire Mariah. I wanted Allison Reynolds.”

  “Who?”

  “You never met Allison. She flew up and only stayed one night, but she was perfect, Charles. I took one look at her and…well…” He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now.”

  “Then how’d you happen to hire Mariah?”

  Christian stood and walked around the living room, pausing in front of the fireplace. “As I said, Allison left after a…short stay. I was discouraged, so I reached for the first application on the top of the pile. In retrospect, I’m fairly sure I didn’t read it.”

  “But you phoned and asked Mariah if she wanted the job?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t even remember who she was. I can’t be expected to recall every person in every interview, can I?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Mariah’s the one responsible for that lawyer snooping around, asking questions.” Christian seemed to be looking for excuses to get rid of her.

  “I know,” Charles said. But in his opinion, Tracy Santiago had been a blessing in disguise. Without realizing what they were doing, his brothers had set themselves up for trouble with this scheme of theirs. Tracy Santiago had opened their eyes to the legal problems they’d invited. Luckily, as it turned out, any women who might have created serious difficulties for them had already moved on.

  “You’re sure firing her is what you want?” Charles asked, sympathetic to both sides. He liked and respected Mariah, but he’d known for a long time that Christian didn’t get along with her. He was also aware that it could be uncomfortable to work with someone who was a constant source of irritation, whatever the reason.

  The intense look in his brother’s eyes revealed just how uncomfortable he was. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I just don’t know.”

  “Can you figure out what it is about Mariah that bothers you so much?” Charles asked, hoping Christian could come up with a solution of his own.

  “That’s the thing,” Christian confessed. “When everything’s said and done, Mariah’s become a pretty decent secretary. The truth is, I simply don’t want to be around her.”

  His brother was one contradiction after another.

  “Never mind,” Christian said with a deep sigh. “I have a feeling the problem will take care of itself, anyway.”

  Now Charles was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I think Duke’s going to marry her.”

  “Duke?”

  “Yeah, I found the two of them kissing the other day.”

  “Duke and Mariah?” Charles couldn’t picture it.

  “That’s what I said,” Christian snapped.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I saw them myself. This isn’t hearsay, Charlie. I saw them kissing with my own two eyes.”

  Charles struggled to visualize them as a couple. Certainly stranger things had happened. Lanni had fallen in love with him, hadn’t she? Heaven knew, she could’ve had any man she wanted. That she fell in love with him struck Charles even now as nothing short of incredible—but a gift he wasn’t about to question.

  “Forget we had this conversation.” Christian seemed eager to be on his way. “I probably just needed a sounding board and you were handy.”

  “Fine. I’ve wiped it from my memory.”

  “Good.” Christian was at the door. “I don’t begrudge them happiness, you know.”

  “Who?”

  Christian cast a baffled glance at Charles. “Mariah and Duke. Who else?”

  “Right,” Charles called after him. He stood in the open doorway and watched his youngest brother head off down the dirt road. Charles recognized that woebegone look. The first time he’d seen it, Sawyer had it plastered all over his face. Abbey was about to leave Hard Luck and Sawyer was beside himself, wondering how he could persuade her and the kids to stay.

  Charles knew he’d worn that look himself the afternoon he discovered Lanni was Catherine Fletcher’s granddaughter. It had felt as if his entire world had come crashing down.

  Now that same look was in Christian’s eyes. Charles chuckled, almost pitying his brother. Christian didn’t know what was about to hit him.

  Matt stepped into the Hard Luck Café and let the screen door slam in his wake. He didn’t walk up to the counter the way he usually did, but stared out the window at the airfield. John Henderson was picking up guests for the lodge, two retired college professors, who’d taken the afternoon flight into Fairbanks. John and company were due at Hard Luck in about ten minutes.

  “You want any coffee?” Ben called from behind the counter.

  “No, but I’d like a refund for the last cup.”

  “A refund? What for? I make the best coffee in town and you know it.” Ben sounded insulted.

  “The coffee was fine, but the advice stank.”

  Although Ben chuckled, Matt didn’t find this amusing. He should’ve known better than to take romantic advice from a confirmed bachelor. And Sawyer hadn’t been much of an improvement. Matt didn’t know what he’d been thinking; he’d been desperate, he decided. Desperate enough to seek the counsel of two men who were as ignorant in the ways of women as he was himself.

  With guests at the lodge, Matt was afraid his relationship with Karen would become even more strained. He’d genuinely wanted her to enjoy their camping-and-fishing adventure. What he’d hoped, he admitted now, was that she’d be so impressed with him and his operation here she’d throw her arms around his neck, declare how much she loved him and promise never to leave again.

  Instead, they were barely on speaking terms.

  Matt’s intention had been to romance her, but he’d consider himself fortunate if she didn’t pack up and return to California by the end of the week.

  “I guess things didn’t work out like you wanted,” Ben said.

  At least the old coot had the good grace to sound contrite. “You could say that. Now on top of everything else, Karen’s furious with me because she got a couple of bug bites and her feet were wet for two days.”

  Ben chuckled again, and if the situation hadn’t been so critical, Matt was sure he would’ve seen the humor in it himself.

  “Did she catch any fish?” Ben asked.

  “One.” Matt still had trouble believing Karen had set the trout free. Leave it to a woman to assign human characteristics to a fish. Brave and noble. For crying out loud, she was talking about a trout. A trout! Karen looked at this fish and saw a poor, maligned creature. Matt looked at the same fish and saw dinner.

  If that two-day trek in the wilds was any indication of how their relationship was going, Matt might as well give up n
ow.

  “I take it you’ve got guests flying in.”

  “A couple of college professors,” Matt explained, his thoughts still on Karen. He hadn’t seen her since early that morning. He’d gotten everything ready for the evening meal himself, then spent the remainder of the day gathering the necessary supplies for the next trip. He’d be away three days this time. He’d venture a guess that Karen would be pleased to have him gone. His biggest fear was that she’d leave before he returned.

  He wished he could find a way to settle their differences once and for all, but every attempt he made seemed to backfire.

  Early that evening, as the four of them sat down to dinner in the lodge dining room, Matt felt torn. Despite his natural sociability, he would’ve liked nothing better than to spend a quiet evening with his wife; he wanted a chance to right any wrong he’d unintentionally committed.

  Unfortunately he found himself reluctantly sitting across the table from the two white-haired professors—likable though they were—and chatting with them. Both men, Donald and Derrick, were in their early sixties and full of vigor. They’d been friends for years and often traveled together. One was married, the other divorced. They talked freely about their lives in a relaxed, companionable way.

  Karen was her usual gracious self throughout the meal. She asked a question now and then and listened intently to the answer. She was a perfect hostess, making their guests feel interesting, valued, important. It was a real skill she had, one he’d noticed from the first moment they met.

  “I hope Matt had you sign the guest book,” Karen said as she passed around the basket of fresh-baked rolls. They were still warm from the oven.

  “I had them sign it this afternoon,” Matt answered on their behalf, since both were busy eating.

  “I understand this is your first season operating the lodge,” Donald, the more animated of the two, said a few minutes later.

  “That’s right.”

  “We’re still pretty new at this,” Karen added.

  “So far, it’s been a delightful experience,” Derrick said, smiling at Karen. “I must say, Mrs. Caldwell, dinner is delicious.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t accept the credit. Matt’s the chef at the lodge.”

  “The grilled salmon is excellent,” Donald told him.

  Matt shrugged off the compliment. “Thanks,” he said gruffly.

  “I’d be interested in knowing your background,” Derrick said conversationally. “It seems to me you must be a jack-of-all-trades.”

  “And a master of none.” Matt wryly completed the old saying. “Actually that pretty well sums up the situation. I’ve dabbled in a number of careers in the past few years.”

  “When I first met Matt he was a psychology major,” Karen explained, avoiding his eyes.

  “Did you graduate?” Derrick directed the question to Matt.

  “No.” If he was uncomfortable with compliments, he was even more uncomfortable discussing the twists and turns his life had taken since college.

  “He knows just enough about human nature to make him dangerous,” Karen teased, her voice affectionate.

  Matt couldn’t take his eyes off his ex-wife. She looked radiant that evening. He wondered if she was ready to put their differences behind them. He knew he was. He hoped that if he got down on his knees and promised never to take her camping again, she’d be willing to forgive and forget. If she wanted romance he’d find some other method of providing it. He didn’t know what, but he’d figure it out.

  “You’re an excellent cook, as well,” Donald was saying.

  “At one point in my illustrious past I decided I wanted to cook. That was soon after Karen and I were married.” He saw no need to mention that they were currently divorced.

  “Matt developed some excellent recipes and an extensive repertoire,” Karen said.

  It actually sounded as though Karen was boasting, but Matt was sure he was mistaken. He remembered how furious she’d been the day he’d announced he didn’t want to be a chef, after all. When he’d finished his course at a culinary institute, he’d been hired as a sous-chef by a major hotel. The job had allowed for no creative freedom, and after ten months, Matt felt that his inventiveness had been stifled to the point that he could barely stand going into work.

  Karen hadn’t been pleased when he’d quit, but she’d supported his decision. That was when he’d decided to become a commercial fisherman and had hired on with a fishing vessel. The money was good—no, great—but the dangers were high. Fishing some of the roughest seas in the world was risky, and a number of vessels were lost every year.

  “Not exactly,” Matt said, and glanced at Karen. This conversation had become disquieting. The last thing Matt wanted was to have his lack of direction discussed and dissected by his guests. It had always been such a contentious issue between him and Karen. He didn’t want her to recite the litany of his failings. Not now, when he was struggling to win back her approval.

  “After leaving cooking school, Matt decided to become a commercial fisherman,” she said.

  “Where’d you fish?” Once more the question was directed to him.

  “The Bering Straits,” Matt answered with little enthusiasm. His eyes briefly met Karen’s, and he realized she was thinking the same thing he was. Those months apart while he was at sea had been some of the most difficult in their marriage.

  Sure, the money had helped them pay their bills, but it hadn’t been worth the strain on their marriage.

  “How long did you fish commercially?” Donald asked.

  “One season.” He didn’t elaborate, didn’t say that when he’d gone into the trade he’d dreamed of one day buying his own boat. But then, he’d also fantasized about running his own restaurant.

  Although he’d bet Karen would deny it, he’d given up fishing for her. She’d worried herself sick the entire time he was at sea, and Matt knew he couldn’t do that to her anymore. So he’d left at the end of the season and joined an accounting firm.

  “After that Matt worked for an accountant—for a while,” Karen said.

  “Accounting,” Derrick echoed. “You have led a varied life.”

  “It’s interesting to note how everything’s pulled together for you now,” Donald said thoughtfully. He helped himself to seconds on the salmon and while he was at it reached for another roll.

  Matt looked at him curiously.

  “You’re happy with the lodge?” Donald asked.

  “Very happy.” Matt said this as much for Karen’s benefit as to answer the question.

  “Yes, it’s all pulled together for you now,” Donald repeated. He had everyone’s attention.

  “How do you mean?” Karen made it sound as though Matt couldn’t be trusted not to sell the lodge at the drop of a hat. Not that he would’ve blamed her. He’d certainly given her enough grief with his erratic work history during their marriage.

  “You were interested in psychology first, isn’t that right?” Donald asked.

  “Yes,” Matt murmured, wondering how their conversation could have veered so far off course.

  “Then cooking school?”

  “Yes.” Karen was the one to reply this time.

  “For which he shows remarkable talent.” Another dinner roll disappeared.

  “Followed by a stint as a commercial fisherman,” Donald went on.

  “One season was all,” Matt insisted. He’d tried to make that clear in his arguments with Karen. While the fishing had been adventurous and lucrative, it hadn’t been a real career.

  “Followed by accounting.”

  “Nine months’ worth.” Again it was Karen who supplied the details. “And now the lodge.”

  “This lodge means everything to me,” Matt said. He yearned to explain that he’d invested his trust fund in this venture, rebuilt the place with his own two hands and was personally involved in every phase of its operation.

  The professors exchanged looks.

  “If anyone were to design
a course on opening a lodge, I think they’d follow this exact same pattern,” Donald said. “It’s as if everything you’ve done in the past five or six years has steered you in this direction. I predict that Hard Luck Lodge is destined to be a success.”

  “You have a basic understanding of human nature.” Derrick smiled. “Naturally Donald and I came up for the fishing, but if you continue to feed us like this, we’ll certainly be coming back—even if we don’t catch a thing.”

  Both men chuckled. “The fact that you’ve fished commercially is bound to be an asset.”

  “True,” Matt admitted.

  “Plus your accounting experience.”

  “It’s a perfect fit.” Donald nodded with evident satisfaction.

  “Thank you,” Matt said. Funny, he’d never realized all this before. The two men were absolutely right. It was as though he’d spent the past years in training for this very thing.

  “If you gentlemen would kindly excuse me?” Unexpectedly Karen stood up.

  “By all means.” The professors rose politely to their feet and thanked her for her hospitality.

  She threw them a quick smile and rushed into the kitchen.

  Matt didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew he’d better find out. He decided he’d give her a couple of minutes, then excuse himself from the table, too.

  Fortunately the professors made some comment about going to bed, since they’d spent most of the day traveling. Matt waited until they were on their way up the stairs, then hurried into the kitchen.

  “Karen, what’s wrong—” He’d no sooner walked through the door than Karen hurled a wet sponge at him. It stuck to his shirt.

  “What was that for?” he asked, stunned.

  Chapter

  9

  "Karen,” Matt whispered, approaching her slowly.

  She reached for the next-closest item at hand, which happened to be half a head of lettuce. “Stay away from me, Matthew Caldwell.” Tears streaked down her face.