Starry Night Page 5

  Although she should be exhausted, Carrie found her mind racing. “He’s not going to give me the interview,” she told the dog, rolling onto her back and staring up at the log beams of the ceiling.

  “Maybe I will interview you,” she said, and gently petted Hennessey’s head.

  The dog rested his chin against her knee in a move that both comforted and warmed her.

  “Okay, Hennessey, tell me what it’s like living with the great Finn Dalton, esteemed author of Alone.”

  She waited, pretending to listen to his answer.

  “You can’t mean to say you actually like spending countless hours with such a cantankerous owner? I’m wrong, you say, and he really isn’t as bad as I assume? Frankly, I find that hard to believe! Oh, I’m sure you’re right, Finn Dalton can be civil, but unfortunately he sees me as an evil threat and he wants to boot me out of here as fast as he can. I know, I know, it’s a shame we couldn’t have reached an understanding. It’s only a matter of time, you know, before others track him down.”

  Again she paused as though taking in the dog’s comments.

  “Yes, I hear you. To you he’s a good guy, but to me he’s rude and arrogant and a narcissist. Oh, sorry, narcissist is a big word. It means he’s completely hung up on himself.”

  A loud snort came from the other room, which was a sure sign Finn was listening in on their conversation.

  “Okay, I realize you have a few questions for me, too. Ask away.”

  She pretended to be listening before she answered. “Like I explained earlier, America is interested in learning what they can about the man who wrote Alone. They see Finn as some sort of hero. Little do they know what he’s really like.”

  She paused and waited for a couple of moments. “Oh, you want to know how I was able to find him when so many others have failed? Sawyer asked me the same question. He told me a handful of reporters have tried to bribe him and a couple of other bush pilots to help locate Finn, but none of Finn’s friends would betray him.” She yawned as if she were ready to call it a night.

  “Answer the dog’s question.” Finn stood in the doorway, holding back the fabric partition. “I’m curious to know what you have for me that convinced Sawyer to bring you here. He’s a good friend, and I know he wouldn’t be easily swayed.”

  Carrie sat upright and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. So this is what it took to get the mighty Finn to open up. “If you must know, it was what I told him about your mother.”

  “My mother,” Finn repeated slowly. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

  “I found her, and—”

  “You searched out my mother?” he demanded in what came across as anger mingled with restraint.

  “Well, yes. So have others, but I was able to convince her to talk to me. Your mother and I had a good chat, and—”

  Finn took two steps into the room and braced his hands against his hips, looking at her as if she were the lowest of the low. “You actually talked to my mother?”

  “I just said as much, and she—”

  “I don’t care what she said. I want nothing to do with her.”

  Carrie sighed, feeling wretched for Joan when all she wanted was to connect with her son. “She told me that you’d probably react like this the minute I mentioned her to you.”

  “She walked out on my father and me—”

  “Oh, come on, Finn, you have to know it’s more complicated than that. She loves you, and your father didn’t give her many options.”

  “Listen, Ms. Busybody, this is none of your business, so stay out of it.” He marched back to the bedroom and pushed aside the curtain with such force she was surprised it didn’t rip in half.

  Carrie was ready to wash her hands of this obstinate, unfeeling man. He was unreasonable, unforgiving … and a dozen more unflattering words that circled her mind. Lying back down, she stared up at the ceiling. Hennessey remained at her side.

  “He really has mother issues, doesn’t he?” she told the dog, lowering her voice to a whisper.

  “I heard that.”

  Carrie ignored him, seeing how well he’d managed to pretend she didn’t exist. “His heart must be as cold as ice not to care about his own mother.”

  “Stay out of it, Carrie.”

  She ignored that, too.

  “His attitude toward her explains a great deal. It seems to me Finnegan Dalton has distinct abandonment issues, right along with issues regarding all women.”

  He laughed as though he found her analysis amusing.

  “Why else would he choose to live in the Alaska wilderness alone?”

  “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he muttered.

  “But all that is probably just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “Would you stop!”

  “Alone is right.” She raised her voice to be sure he heard her loud and clear. “He’s probably been running away his entire life. Then he had to go and make the mistake of writing a bestselling book that captured the public’s attention. How unfortunate for him.”

  Silence.

  The blizzard howled outside the door, and Carrie was grateful Hennessey had chosen to stay with her. She punched the pillow several times and then lay back down, pulling the thick blanket over her shoulders and forcing her eyes closed. Finn Dalton could thank his lucky stars she wasn’t writing the article on him right that minute. She couldn’t think of a single flattering comment she could make about this ill-mannered man.

  The minutes ticked past, but as hard as she tried, Carrie couldn’t fall sleep. The sofa was uncomfortable, and Finn had made her so angry the adrenaline pumped through her, making it impossible to relax.

  “He hates all women, doesn’t he?” she asked Hennessey, keeping her voice low and soft.

  The dog lifted his head, and she almost expected an answer.

  “Not true,” Finn insisted. He stood in the doorway to the bedroom again, filling it with his bulk.

  Ah, so he hadn’t been able to fall asleep, either. “Is so,” she returned with equal fervor. “How else do you explain yourself? Your mother was given very few options. My goodness, Finn, think about it. She was a southern belle; these harsh elements were too much for her. She wanted to compromise, but your father wouldn’t hear of it. She told me it broke her heart to leave you behind, but you and your father were so close she couldn’t bear to separate you. When you chose to stay with your father, she could have insisted, could have taken the matter to the courts, but she didn’t. She bowed to your wishes even though it broke her heart.”

  “She told you all this, did she?”

  “Yes, and that’s not all. She mentioned how rude you were to her when your father died. She attended his funeral to make what amends she could, and you rejected her.” Carrie’s jaw tightened just thinking about the unkind way Finn had behaved toward his mother.

  “She had no right to be there. She remarried.”

  “She loved your father, and she loves you.” It was beyond Carrie’s imagination that Finn would continue to shut his mother out, especially after losing his father. “You were a boy when she left. You only heard one side of the story.”

  “So did you, and frankly, what’s between my mother and me is none of your concern.”

  He was right; Carrie was butting her head into areas that had nothing to do with writing the article. However, now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. “Your mother wants you in her life. You’re her only child.”

  “She should have thought of that twenty-five years ago.” As though he was exhausted from their argument, he slowly shook his head and whispered, “Just go to sleep, would you?”

  She was about to mention how uncomfortable the sofa was, but he might assume she was looking for an invitation to join him in his bed. Nothing could be further from the truth. “I’m trying, but you make me so angry that I can’t think straight.”

  “Try harder.” The curtain between the two rooms swayed as he whirled around and retur
ned to bed.

  Carrie didn’t know how long it was before she managed to sleep. At some point in the night she woke from the cold and drew the thick blankets more snugly about her shoulders. Later, she was overly warm and kicked them free from her jean-clad legs.

  At about midnight, she opened her eyes to find Finn standing by the stove, feeding it the wood he’d brought in earlier.

  The next thing she knew, he was gently waking her. “You can have the bed now.”

  She blinked up at him without understanding. He was fully dressed, and while it surely must be close to morning, the only light that showed came from the fire in the stove.

  Finn led her into the bedroom, and once she’d crawled into the ultracomfortable feather bed, he covered her with thick blankets. “I’ll be gone for a while.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled, already half asleep. Surrounded by warmth and comfort, she thought sleeping on this soft mattress was heavenly.

  When she woke, it was still dark. She quickly put on every bit of clothing that she could fit into until her arms were so thick with two long-sleeved shirts and two sweaters that she could barely bend her elbows.

  Although she’d never cooked on a cast-iron stove, it didn’t seem that difficult. The coffeepot sat on the stove top, but she was unable to get water from the faucet. Once she got the fire going, she opened the cabin door. She blinked at the cold that seemed to come at her like a giant fist. It stole her breath, but she managed to pack the coffeepot with snow and then quickly came back inside. Searching through Finn’s cupboards, she found coffee and quickly assembled a pot. The coffee had just finished brewing when she heard Hennessey bark.

  Finn was back.

  Carrie couldn’t imagine where he’d gone or what he’d been doing, especially in the snow. She automatically reached for a second mug and filled it. Finn came in the door, followed by Hennessey, who instantly went to her side. She bent down and petted her newfound friend. Finn seemed surprised to see her up and about.

  “The storm has let up,” he murmured. “But not enough for Sawyer to fly.”

  “Oh.” Carrie had been afraid that was the case. She handed him a mug of steaming brew.

  “You made coffee,” he said, as if this was some gargantuan feat.

  “Yes.” It was one thing to get into a sparring match with him in the dead of night and quite another to do so when they were standing face-to-face. She’d made several accusations that she wished now had remained unsaid. It embarrassed her that she had delved into his personal life when what he did or didn’t do was none of her affair.

  Finn, too, seemed uneasy.

  “Have you had breakfast?” she asked, although she didn’t have a clue what she would cook if he hadn’t. It wasn’t like she had access to fresh eggs. From what little she’d picked up about life in the frozen north, being this close to the tree line meant that groceries, supplies, or anything else Finn needed would have to be flown in.

  “I ate earlier. You?”

  “Not yet.” This strained politeness was a complete turnaround from the way they’d behaved toward each other previously. Carrie felt responsible for clearing the air, although she wasn’t sure what to say or if she should even try. Perhaps it would be best to just pretend their verbal skirmish hadn’t happened.

  “There’s some caribou jerky if you’re interested. Made it myself this summer.”

  His attitude toward her appeared to be a bit more amicable, she noticed. “Thanks, but I’m not much of a breakfast person.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  He removed his coat and then sat down at the table with his coffee, his gaze focused on the cup as if he were reading tea leaves.

  Carrie sat down across from him and decided to make an effort at conversation. “About last night …”

  His head shot up, and his gaze narrowed significantly. “What about it?”

  “I want to apologize for the things I said about you and your mother.”

  He bobbed his head as though to assure her all was forgiven. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay. But I still think you have issues with women.”

  “Drop it, would you?” he said between clenched teeth.

  Carrie held up her hand. “You’re right, sorry.”

  He relaxed and sipped his coffee.

  “I need to do something, and I don’t want to make you mad, so I’m telling you in advance.”

  “Now what?” he asked, as if he’d already grown tired of the conversation.

  Carrie slipped the tips of her fingers into her jeans pocket. “Your mother asked me to give you this. I feel honor bound to follow through with my promise to her.”

  “Give me what?”

  “Your father’s wedding band.”

  His face tightened. “Keep it.”

  “I can’t do that; a promise is a promise.”

  He stared across the short space between them and then smiled. “That’s how you convinced Sawyer to fly you in, isn’t it? You told him you had something for me, but he didn’t say what and I didn’t ask.”

  Carrie didn’t feel she could or should lie. “I’m grateful Sawyer was willing to help me, but he didn’t do it for me. He did it because he felt he was doing what was best for you. He’s a friend, and from what I can see, a good one.”

  Finn snorted and rubbed his hand down his beard. “I knew it had to be something like that.”

  She placed the gold band in the center of the table.

  “Satisfied now?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  His chair made a grating noise as he stood and reached for the gold band, which he carried to the front door. He opened it, letting snow and wind into the cabin before he tossed the ring with all his might into the storm.

  Chapter Five

  Carrie bolted to her feet and raced through the open door, and practically dove face-first into the whirling snow. The wind blinded her but she caught a glimpse of metal and nearly fell on it in her eagerness to retrieve Paul Dalton’s wedding band. Clenching the gold band tightly in the palm of her hand, Carrie battled the storm in an effort to hurry back into the house. It took all her strength to close the door against the elements. By the time she was finished she was half frozen and breathless.

  “How could you be so uncaring?” Carrie demanded, glaring at Finn. Her lungs hurt from the brief time she’d been in the icy cold. Chicago was known for its brutal winters, but this frigid air was beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  “Why should I care about a wedding ring when the marriage meant nothing to my mother?” he retorted.

  Carrie leaned against the door, needing its support to remain upright. Her entire body was rigid with cold and anger. She waited for a moment, letting the warmth of the room revive her enough to think clearly.

  “The ring belonged to your father,” she reminded him. One would think Finn would hold on to the band as a keepsake, if for no other reason than the fact that his father had once worn and treasured it.

  “Dad returned it to my mother at the time of the divorce. If he didn’t want it, what makes you think I would?”

  “And your mother kept it, which should tell you something.” Carrie didn’t know why she felt such a strong need to defend his mother. In some way, it felt as though she was sticking up for herself as well as all the other women of the world.

  “As far as I can determine, women are out for what they can get from a man. You don’t care who you step on or who you hurt. I made the mistake of thinking I was in love once, but I won’t make it again.”

  “All women?” Carrie challenged. He wasn’t making sense. “You see us as selfish and untrustworthy because your mother left you? And you have the nerve to tell me you don’t have abandonment issues?” She resisted the urge to laugh. This guy was a real piece of work. “Have you considered counseling?”

  “You think this is just about my mother. You don’t know anything.”

  “Then tell me,” she urged.

  “Pame
la,” he muttered, “was lesson number two.”

  “Oh, so that’s it. A woman disappointed you and now you’re sour on the entire gender. That is such a cliché. What happened? Did Pamela decide she couldn’t live in Alaska? Was she too much like your mother?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “You’re right, this has nothing to do with me. I have just one more thing to say and then I promise not to mention it again. Finn Dalton, get over it.”

  Before she could suck in the next breath, Finn’s face was two inches away from her own. They were practically nose-to-nose. If Carrie could have backed away, she would have, but with the door pressed against her backside, she had nowhere to move.

  Hennessey was on his feet and stood next to Finn, barking madly. Finn ignored him, and so did Carrie.

  “I knew Pamela from the time we were teenagers. Or, better yet, I thought I knew her. She moved to Seattle and then came back. I loved her, and then I learned that while she was away, she married a soldier who went off to Afghanistan. She didn’t care about me. All she wanted was some entertainment while her husband was out of the country. She was playing me. I don’t need a woman in my life—got it? Not one of you is worth the heartache. I saw what losing my mother did to my father, and I had a small taste of it myself. I don’t need another, so back off. Stay out of my life, understand?”

  “Loud and clear.” His anger seemed to inhale all the oxygen in the room until the small hairs on the back of Carrie’s neck bristled. Her hands were flattened against the door, and when he stepped away it took several seconds before Carrie felt like she could breathe normally again.

  He stalked over to his desk on the far side of the cabin as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  Carrie bent down to pat Hennessey and reassure him that all was well.

  The tension left her shoulders, and she realized she was trembling almost uncontrollably in the aftermath of their confrontation. Despite herself, she felt bad for Finn. Not knowing Pamela or the situation that had led to their breakup, she had to believe it must have been traumatic to Finn.