The Marriage Risk Page 9

  Lanni walked to the other side of the gymnasium and slumped weakly into a chair.

  “Lanni, is something wrong?”

  She glanced up to find Abbey standing over her. “Charles rushed out of here so fast,” she went on.

  “It’s nothing,” Lanni insisted, not wanting to ruin Abbey’s wedding day with her own troubles.

  Abbey sat down in the seat next to her. “I don’t believe that. Now tell me what happened.”

  Lanni took a deep breath. “Charles learned that Catherine Fletcher’s my grandmother. I should’ve told him from the first, but I didn’t really think it would matter. I thought that once he got to know me he’d realize neither one of us has anything to do with the history between our families.”

  Abbey squeezed Lanni’s hand reassuringly. “Give him time,” she murmured.

  Lanni had already made that decision herself, although she thought she’d never forget the shock and anger in his eyes. The outrage seem to spit and boil inside him. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  “Don’t worry about Charles and me,” Lanni said, forcing herself to smile. “This is your day, and I don’t want anything to spoil it.”

  “Nothing could,” Abbey assured her. After a few more minutes of low-key conversation, she rejoined her husband.

  Lanni’s throat felt dry and scratchy so she walked over to the punch bowl. She hadn’t taken more than a sip of her sweet, fruity drink when Sawyer walked up to her.

  “Abbey told me what happened,” he said grimly.

  “Charles needs time to get used to the idea, that’s all,” she said, making light of his reaction.

  Sawyer’s eyes revealed his own remorse. “I should’ve told him.”

  “It wasn’t your job.”

  “I purposely let him think you were the secretary Christian hired.” A gathering frown darkened Sawyer’s features. “Charles was so self-righteous when he learned what Christian and I had done to bring women to Hard Luck. When I saw how taken he was with you, I thought it was poetic justice. Frankly I felt it would do him good.”

  “I’m the one who’s responsible here,” she argued, “not you.”

  “If you want, I’ll talk to him.”

  As tempting as the offer was, Lanni refused to involve anyone else. “Thank you, but no. Either Charles and I work this out ourselves or we don’t. It’s not up to anyone else.”

  It pained her that Charles found it so difficult to accept her background. As Ellen had said earlier, sins were committed by both families. Lanni was willing to forgive what his family had done to hers, but apparently the reverse wasn’t true.

  “He’s stubborn,” Sawyer told her. “Be patient.”

  Lanni didn’t answer. She had other commitments and responsibilities waiting for her in Anchorage. She’d be starting her internship with the newspaper less than two months from now, and she had plenty to do before then. She wasn’t willing to delay her return home, hoping Charles would suddenly come to his senses. He wasn’t the only one who could be stubborn.

  Sawyer left and Lanni finished her punch. The drink felt cool and soothing against the dryness of her throat. Then, just as she was setting aside the empty crystal cup, she noticed Charles.

  He’d come back to the reception. He stood at the other side, as far away from her as he could get and still be in the same room. His eyes followed her intently. She tried to smile, tried to tell him without words how sorry she was.

  The minute her eyes met his he turned and walked to his mother’s side. That action told Lanni everything she needed to know. His loyalty was with his family. He wanted nothing more to do with her.

  “Hello, Lanni.”

  She looked up to see Duke Porter. “Hi, Duke.”

  “Would I get my head bitten off if I asked you to dance?”

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean by you.” Duke cast a look in Charles’s direction. “You two seem to be an item. I don’t want to cause problems, but Charles is sitting over there and you’re here all alone—and you seem a little depressed.”

  Pride elevated Lanni’s chin. She’d had no idea others could see how miserable she was. “No one’s going to object if we dance,” she said, “least of all Charles O’Halloran.”

  * * *

  Anger poured through Charles like liquid fire. Lanni hadn’t been the only person to mislead him. Sawyer and Abbey had been in on this deception, too, making him the brunt of their joke. Still, he didn’t really blame Sawyer. His brother was so much in love he needed a compass to find his way to the john. Nor was Charles sure how much Abbey knew of the family history.

  That left Lanni.

  He might’ve been inclined to think she was unaware of the facts, if it wasn’t for one small thing. She’d purposely led him to believe she was someone else. No wonder she hadn’t talked much about herself. She knew. His stomach churned, and it was all he could do not to vent his rage.

  He’d made a first-class idiot of himself over Lanni Caldwell. Granddaughter of the woman he hated. Earlier that afternoon he’d laid his heart at her feet. He cringed when he remembered his disjointed speech about falling in love with her. She must have been snickering over that one!

  Charles clung to his anger. It was necessary, otherwise those pleading looks she sent his way would dissolve the wall of grievances he’d built against her.

  Unlike Lanni, he’d been old enough to remember some of what had happened. He’d seen with his own eyes what Catherine Fletcher had done to his family. That woman was responsible for ruining his parents’ marriage, and his father’s life. Charles would never forgive or forget.

  He turned away, unwilling to allow Lanni the satisfaction of knowing he was watching her. The determination to focus his attention elsewhere lasted all of two minutes. When he sought her again, he found she wasn’t standing by the punch bowl anymore.

  She was dancing with Duke Porter.

  The anger brewing inside him intensified to glass-melting degrees. The gentle sway of her hips was nearly his undoing. The fact that Duke had his hand plastered against those hips demanded every ounce of restraint he possessed. He was a fraction of a heartbeat from shoving his way through his brother’s wedding guests and plowing his fist halfway down Duke Porter’s throat.

  Even knowing what he did about Lanni couldn’t keep Charles from wanting her. He’d never thought of himself as a weak man—but then, he hadn’t known he was this much of a fool, either. What he needed, Charles decided, was a beer.

  “Is everything all right?” Christian asked him a few minutes later.

  Charles lifted the beer bottle to his lips. “Couldn’t be better,” he said gruffly, unable to tear his gaze from Lanni and Duke. It certainly hadn’t taken her long to turn her attention to greener pastures.

  “What’s going on with you and Lanni?” Christian pressed.

  “Not a thing.” He wanted to tear off his brother’s head for even asking.

  “Peace, peace,” Christian said, raising both hands. “All I did was ask a simple question.”

  “You got a simple answer.”

  Christian’s gaze followed his. “She sure is pretty,” he murmured. “It’s a damn shame she’s related to Catherine.” Having said that much, he wandered away. Charles was glad to be rid of him.

  He wasn’t in the mood for company, especially his own brother reminding him how pretty Lanni was. He downed another swig of beer, but it did little to douse the burning anger.

  Lanni wrapped her arms loosely around Duke’s shoulders. The pilot’s no-doubt clammy hands slid from the gentle swell of her hips to her waist and down again. That did it. Charles smacked the beer bottle down on the table and headed for the dance floor.

  Sawyer waylaid him. “Do you have a problem?” he asked.

  Charles glared at his brother. “Not really. Duke does. In another two minutes he’s going to need a set of dentures.”

  “It’s time you went outside and cooled down.” Christian
joined forces against Charles, and together, one at each side, his brothers escorted him out of the building.

  The sun was so bright it nearly blinded him. “It isn’t Duke you’re angry with,” Sawyer said evenly. “It’s me. Only, I’m your brother and this is my wedding day.”

  Charles ground his teeth, recognizing the truth of his brother’s words. He was angriest with Lanni, but that didn’t completely absolve Sawyer of complicity in the deception.

  “I should have told you.”

  Charles stiffened. “You’re damn right you should have.”

  “I’ll admit, it was a stupid trick. But, Charles, does it matter who Lanni’s related to? She didn’t have anything to do with the past. She’s her own woman. Judging her by Catherine’s sins isn’t fair, any more than it’d be fair if she blamed you for what Dad did.”

  “There are things you don’t know!” Charles snapped. He wiped his face with a shaking hand in an effort to cool his temper. He knew far better than Sawyer or Christian the damage Catherine Fletcher had done to their family.

  Every time he looked at Lanni he’d be reminded that she was a blood relative of Catherine’s. He couldn’t forget, and perhaps more importantly, he couldn’t forgive.

  “If that’s the way he feels,” Christian said to Sawyer, “nothing we say is going to change his mind.”

  “I’m wondering, though,” Sawyer said with a thoughtful frown, “if he can live with the consequences.”

  Charles threw his brothers a look that told them exactly where they could go and that he’d be more than happy to see to their arrival there.

  “I’m getting out of here,” Charles announced.

  Sawyer and Christian exchanged a look.

  “And I don’t want or need any company, understand?” He had all the companionship he needed in the form of a bottle. He’d never purposely gotten drunk in his life. But there was a first time for everything.

  * * *

  Lanni saw Charles disappear with his two brothers. Shortly afterward, Sawyer and Christian reappeared without him, and she didn’t see him again. She tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but couldn’t hide the fact that it did.

  Deciding to leave the reception herself, she found Abbey and Sawyer and hugged them both. “I hope you’ll be very happy,” she whispered, fearing her voice would break if she tried to speak normally. “My love goes with you.”

  “Everything will work out for the best,” Abbey whispered in her ear.

  Lanni managed a smile and nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

  Sawyer’s eyes were somber. “I’m sorry, Lanni.”

  “What for?” she asked with feigned cheerfulness. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She was grateful he didn’t offer her platitudes.

  The reception broke up before Lanni could leave. Abbey and Sawyer were scheduled to fly into Fairbanks that evening, and then the next day take a flight to Hawaii for two glorious weeks. Abbey had mentioned earlier that Scott and Susan were flying out with their grandparents and that Charles would be looking after Eagle Catcher, Scott’s husky. In the flurry of departures and teary goodbyes, Lanni quietly slipped out.

  It seemed as though every ally she had in town was deserting her.

  Her grandmother’s house felt like a prison when she walked inside. Boxes lined one entire living room wall, ready to be mailed to Anchorage. That was something she’d learned soon after coming to Hard Luck—everything was sent via the United States Mail, even groceries. Transport by any other means was prohibitively expensive.

  The phone rang, startling her. She stared at it until it rang again. With her heart hammering wildly, she grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello,” she said into the mouthpiece.

  “Hiya, little sister.”

  “Matt.” Just the sound of his voice was comforting. “It’s so good to hear from you.”

  “Miss me, do you?”

  He hadn’t a clue how much. She’d always idolized Matt; he’d been her knight in shining armor. Even when they were children, at an age when most siblings fought, Lanni had considered Matt as near perfect as it was possible for any human to be. Not until his marriage failed had Lanni found fault with him.

  “So,” Matt said, breaking into her thoughts, “you’re hobnobbing with the O’Halloran brothers.”

  “Not exactly,” she said, wanting to minimize her contact with Charles and his family.

  “That’s not what I hear. Mom said you filled in for Sawyer’s secretary and that you met Charles.”

  “Yes.” She swallowed painfully. “We’ve met.”

  “According to Mom, you two hit it off.”

  Lanni’s hand tightened around the receiver. The temptation to spill her heart out to her older brother and seek his advice was almost overwhelming. But she wouldn’t do that.

  “Come on, Lanni. Don’t keep me in the dark.”

  She moistened her lips. “Charles is…a good man.”

  “Mom said you seemed quite enthralled with him.”

  “How’s Karen?” Lanni asked in a desperate effort to change the subject. Then she sighed—Matt had struggled with the breakup of his marriage, and Lanni was still worried about him. “I’m sorry, Matt. I can’t seem to remember that you two aren’t together anymore.”

  “Karen moved.”

  “Moved? What do you mean, she moved?”

  “As in packed up her bags and headed south.”

  “How far south?”

  “California.”

  Any hope Lanni harbored of a reconciliation between her brother and his wife was dashed. With Karen living thousands of miles from Anchorage, the likelihood of those two settling their differences seemed practically nil.

  “When did that happen?” Lanni generally stayed in close contact with Karen and hadn’t heard a word about her leaving Alaska.

  “Last week. Paragon, Inc. offered her a giant promotion. Unfortunately it entailed a transfer, and I gather she leapt at the chance. Naturally she didn’t call to talk it over with me. I heard through the grapevine that she packed up and was out of here in two days flat.”

  Lanni closed her eyes. No wonder her brother didn’t recognize her anguish; he was dealing with his own.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Mom said Karen tried to contact you before she left.” But not Matt. “I want only the best for her.” He said the words as if by rote. Lanni knew he didn’t dare admit—least of all to himself—how much he loved and missed his ex-wife; admitting it would leave him too vulnerable, too ravaged. “Only the best,” he said again.

  “I know you do, Matt.”

  “Listen,” he said, brightening, “I didn’t call to get us both depressed.”

  “Good.” Lanni could do with a bit of cheering up.

  “I heard a rumor I want you to check out for me.”

  “Sure.”

  “Is it true there’s some kind of lodge in Hard Luck?”

  “Yes, sort of. There was a fire years back that burned part of it. No one ever bothered to repair it.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Great? If you want the truth, I wonder why Charles’s family hasn’t torn it down by now. The place is completely boarded up. My feeling is it needs to be either rebuilt or demolished.”

  “Do you think they’d be willing to sell it?”

  “The lodge?”

  “Of course the lodge.”

  “Why?” It made no sense to Lanni.

  “Why?” her brother repeated.

  It was beginning to sound as if the phone had developed an echo. “Because I’d like a chance to do something with it. Gate of the Arctic National Park’s close by, isn’t it? The lodge would be perfect tourist accommodation.”

  Tourist accommodation? Her brother must have lost every shred of reason he’d ever possessed. “But, Matt, what about the winters? What tourist in his right mind would visit the Arctic in December and January? You’d go broke.”

  “Dogs, Lanni. There are hundreds of adven
ture-seekers out there looking for a new thrill. I’ll take them mushing. Just look at the popularity of the Iditarod and the other races.”

  “But you’d have to raise the dogs first.” Surely this project would cost more than he could possibly afford.

  “Not necessarily. I’ll rent them and whatever else I need from the pros. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Lanni, and I’m getting in on the ground floor.”

  Lanni wondered again if her brother had finally lost his mind. He routinely came up with these crazy ideas, but this was the craziest yet. None of them held his attention for long. He’d get started on some fabulous plan, some wonderful new career that was bound to make him rich, and tire of it within six months. Lanni had seen the pattern countless times.

  “Ask Charles for me, would you, Lanni?”

  Lanni pressed her hand to her forehead. “No…” She’d never refused her brother anything. Until now.

  “No?”

  “If you’re truly interested in buying that burned-out lodge from the O’Hallorans, then you can ask them yourself.”

  Her words were followed by a lengthy pause. “Lanni, is everything all right?”

  “It’s great,” she lied. “Just wonderful. I’m nearly finished with Grammy’s house. I might even be home in a couple of days.”

  “You don’t sound so good,” Matt said gently. “You’d better tell me what happened.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Just answer one question.”

  “Anything.”

  She took a shaky breath. “Are all men born bastards, or do they have to work hard to achieve it?”

  Matt chuckled. “You’ve locked horns with the O’Hallorans, have you?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the O’Hallorans, but I guess the answer depends on who you ask. Karen would agree I’m a bastard, and she’d tell you I worked hard to achieve it. But I gotta say I seem to have come by the talent naturally.”

  * * *

  Luring women to Hard Luck wasn’t working out the way Christian had expected. One of his brothers was married and the other wasn’t speaking to him.

  Since he’d been away from his desk for so long, Christian decided he’d walk down to the airfield to check out the office.