Klondike Hero. Jillian Hart

in his work thermos.”

      “I wanted to make sure there was enough for you.” Karenna pushed out of her chair. “I was thinking about breakfast. Would you like me to cook? I wouldn’t mind.”

      “Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. You’re our guest.”

      “Guest? More like an imposition.”

      “It depends on who you are talking to.” Jean appeared amused as she stirred milk into her cup. “You saw Gage before he left?”

      “Saw him, talked to him, lived to regret it.”

      “You and everyone else.” Jean laughed easily, reminding Karenna of her own grandmother. “I’m not at all sure what I’m going to do about that boy.”

      Boy? He was a man in his prime, wide of shoulder, brawny and strong. Karenna couldn’t imagine Gage as a boy. “Was he always that impossible?”

      “You mean stubborn? Strong-willed?” Jean nodded. “Yes. He was the funniest kid. Kept me in stitches the whole time he was growing up.”

      “Gage funny?” She fished a frying pan out of the lower cabinets. “You have to be talking about someone else. I don’t buy it. Not Gage.”

      “He was a card. Always laughing. Always seeing the bright side of life.” Jean opened the fridge and handed over a carton of eggs. “That was before his marriage fell apart. I knew that girl wasn’t right for him. She was nice enough. She just didn’t value all the right things, Gage especially.”

      “That sounds difficult.” Having some experience with that very thing sent a wave of sympathy through her. Hard to picture Gage with a smile on his face, always laughing. “He must have changed completely.”

      “Ain’t that the truth. I hardly recognize him.” Jean dug through the fridge and produced a package of bacon and a pitcher of orange juice. “He’s not the same man. These days, he’s hard and cynical. I don’t think he means to be. He’s simply lost.”

      “Is that why he’s living with you? He was recently divorced?” Karenna took the bacon and peeled off thick, smoky slices.

      “No. I’ve been living with him for five years, going on six. This is his house. He moved back from Washington—”

      “Washington State?” She nearly dropped the bacon on the counter.

      “Some fancy Seattle suburb.”

      She and Gage had once lived in the same city? Scary coincidence.

      “That’s where Margaret had to live. Fancy was what mattered to her.” Unlike her grandson, Jean wasn’t bitter or harsh. Her lovely face crinkled with loving compassion. “I still feel so sorry for her, fighting for what could never truly make anyone happy, not in the long run. Gage was so in love with her, he wore himself out working long hours in that firm—”

      “A firm?” She definitely couldn’t see that. The mountain man working in a firm? Wearing a suit and tie?

      “He’s an architect. Leastways, that’s what he went to school for. Graduated top of his class and landed a real fine job.” Pride lifted Jean up. Easy to see how much she loved her grandson. “He did real good down there. But when he came home, he wasn’t the same.”

      “He must have truly loved her.”

      “He did.” Jean wiped at the corner of her eyes with a napkin. “I keep praying for him. I have faith that God will lead Gage back to His heart. Our Lord won’t let us down.”

      “He is ever-faithful.” This she knew for sure. At twenty-five, she still had a lot to figure out, especially about love and life, but she believed. She’d felt God’s touch in her life too often to doubt. Maybe He had brought her to Alaska for a reason. Maybe there was some good she could do.

      “Yes, our Lord is always here with us.” Jean reached out and squeezed Karenna’s hand. Her touch was warm and strong, a connection between two kindred spirits. “He had a plan in bringing you to us.”

      “That’s what I was thinking, too. I would feel much better if my emotion-fuelled drive here was for a greater purpose, and not just another big mistake of mine.”

      “You were led here. I know this is true. I can feel it.”

      “Good, because I don’t want to add it to my growing pile of dumb moves.” She couldn’t help adoring Jean. It was as if they’d known each other for years. “And before you say it, yes, I’ve made a lot of major oopses. I tend to leap with both feet, then look.”

      “That’s called youth.” Jean stepped back to pour the orange juice. “We all have mountains of mistakes in our life. It’s part of being human. Now turn the bacon, dear, before it starts to burn.”

      Not one of his better days. Gage rubbed at the tension headache settling deep in his right temple, opened the back door and strode into the tour office. A lot of desks were empty—most of the guides were out giving tours—but not him. No, he’d received a search-and-rescue call a second before he’d walked in the door early this morning.

      A pair of hikers missing overnight, which turned out to be two women from South Beach, Florida, who’d never been in the wilderness before, didn’t pack any of the necessary gear, and when he finally found them wandering the forest instead of staying in one place, each of them had a handful of wildflowers and ran toward him, diamonds and rubies and capped teeth gleaming in the sun. One woman called him her hero a second before proposing.

      Of course, he’d swiftly turned her down and handed her over to another man on his team, Reed, his buddy and Treasure Creek’s police chief. He noticed Reed had turned down the woman’s overeager proposal, too. Wannabe brides were everywhere.

      He was too smart for them. He had found out the hard way that love was a river that plunged straight off a cliff, taking the doomed with it. He stormed over to his desk, a frown brewing. He hadn’t been able to force Karenna from his mind. The image of her in his kitchen, bright as the sun, cheerful as a song, stuck with him as if it had been glued to his brainpan.

      With any luck, Bucky had towed her car into town and patched up the radiator, and Karenna Digby was no longer his problem. He ignored the stack of messages the receptionist, Rachel, had placed dead center on his desk, yanked open the top drawer and dug around for a bottle of aspirin he kept on hand. He popped two without water and spotted his boss and good friend at her desk, her hair curtaining her face, intent on a phone call. Tension in her jaw and tiny lines dug into her forehead told him it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. His boots carried him forward and he arrived deskside without thinking about it.

      “Yes, you’re absolutely right, Lindy.” Amy James nodded at him, while still intent on her call. “We do need a miracle.”

      Lindy. There was only one Lindy in town—the owner of the boarding house. The Lindy who hadn’t been able to help him find a room in town for Karenna. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of Amy’s desk.

      “Yes, of course, my great-great-grandfather’s treasure map would come in awful handy about now.” Amy folded a lock of hair behind her ear, the tension in her jaw vanishing, replaced by a hint of humor. “Too bad it’s lost for good. Sure. I’ll do the impossible and loan it to the town so we can keep the library. No problem.”

      Oh. The budget crisis. He knew that Lindy was on the town council. Economic times were tough all over, but especially in Treasure Creek. Tourist dollars drove their economy, and with Ben’s death the tour company had nearly closed. It was an economic hardship that rippled outward. He knew for a fact the town was considering drastic steps, like consolidating the schools, and if things didn’t improve, they would be annexed by the county. Now it sounded like the library was in jeopardy, too.

      “Thanks, Lindy.” Amy hung up the phone.

      “Trouble?” he asked.

      “Something like that. Lindy was just calling