Alaska Home. Debbie Macomber

of course, but Keith had been annoyed, to put it mildly.

      Mariah had tried to apologize, but Keith hadn’t given her a chance. He’d stomped out. Ben didn’t seem distressed to lose him as a customer, though, saying he’d just as soon do without Keith’s business. No big loss, Ben assured her.

      “I had to leave Midnight Sons,” Mariah admitted miserably.

      “I thought as much,” Tracy said in a soothing voice. “Do you want me to file a lawsuit against them?”

      “On what grounds?” Mariah demanded. The O’Hallorans had been good to her. They’d deeded her twenty acres of their own land, plus given her the cabin. In a way she felt they’d saved her by granting her the means to escape her family’s dominance.

      “I’m sure we could come up with something,” Tracy said.

      Tracy was by nature confrontational, which made her a good attorney. But that was also the reason for her problem with Duke, Mariah realized. The pilot enjoyed saying outlandish things just to rile Tracy, and it worked every time.

      “I’d never sue the O’Hallorans,” Mariah stressed, wanting to make that clear.

      “Christian’s at the root of this, and I—”

      “Tracy,” Mariah said, cutting off her friend, “listen. I’m perfectly happy. Midnight Sons will survive without me.” The real question was whether she’d survive without them—or without one of them, anyway. But for pride’s sake she couldn’t admit that, not even to her friend.

      They talked for a few more minutes, with Mariah struggling to convince Tracy that she was happy and at the same time convince herself.

      Working for Ben was what she wanted. She said it over and over, and once Tracy was satisfied that Mariah had been the one to initiate the change, she was less concerned.

      “Promise you’ll contact me if you need anything?” Tracy asked. “I’ll do anything I can to help you, as a friend and as an attorney.”

      Mariah promised, but she couldn’t imagine why she’d ever need an attorney.

      * * *

      Bethany stood at the front of the classroom and looked down the evenly spaced rows of empty desks. In a matter of days those same desks would be filled with Hard Luck’s children.

      A sense of pride, mingled with responsibility, suddenly overwhelmed her. She loved her job. She loved Alaska. Although she’d never asked Ben what had drawn him to the tiny Arctic community, she thought she understood. The beauty of this place often stole her breath. She defied anyone to look over the tundra in full bloom, to smell the scent of fresh, clean air mingled with spruce and wildflowers, and not understand.

      Yes, there was also the challenge of winter, the difficulty of living week upon week in almost total darkness and subzero temperatures. Not everyone was suited to this life.

      Spring brought with it far more than daylight and budding flowers, she mused. With the end of winter came a sense of—she wasn’t sure just what to call it—accomplishment, she decided. Bethany remembered experiencing this phenomenon the previous spring. She’d realized that she’d survived the dark and the cold of winter. She’d stood in the sun, soaking up the warmth, her arms stretched toward the bright blue sky. With that moment came a feeling of power. She’d known that with love, with determination, with the force of her own inner strength, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t accomplish. The feeling had never left her.

      Bethany smiled, thinking of Ben, and how coming to find him, meeting this man who’d given her life, had changed her. She was grateful to him in more ways than she could express. Without Ben she’d never have met Mitch and Chrissie.

      “You’re looking thoughtful.”

      Mitch stood in the classroom doorway, his arms crossed. Tall and muscular, he was dressed in his Department of the Interior uniform. Her heart swelled with pride and love at the sight of her husband.

      “I was just thinking about Ben,” Bethany said.

      “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

      It would be useless to deny it. “I guess I am. He just didn’t look good the other night.”

      “Sweetheart, you woke him out of a sound sleep.”

      “I know.” Ben had been thrilled with the news of her pregnancy, and they’d chatted and laughed for an hour before she’d headed home.

      Not until she dressed for bed that night had she given her visit a second thought. Something wasn’t right with Ben, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

      “I came to take you to lunch,” Mitch told her, “since Chrissie’s playing at Susan’s. You’ll be able to see for yourself that Ben’s as cantankerous as always.”

      “Lunch,” Bethany said, grinning. “You certainly know the way to my heart.”

      * * *

      Christian didn’t think he could avoid being obvious when he stopped in at the Hard Luck Café for dinner that evening. The special, barbecued elk ribs, was by no means his favorite meal. Nor was he keen on having half of Hard Luck watch him make a fool of himself. But he had no choice. Somehow, he needed to convince Mariah to return to Midnight Sons.

      His day hadn’t gone well. Sawyer was on his back about hiring a replacement. The phone had kept them hopping all afternoon. The pilots were complaining. Nothing seemed right. Sometimes Christian forgot what an ill-tempered bunch they could be.

      He thought wryly that even when Mariah wasn’t at the office, she managed to make his life miserable.

      When he entered the café, Christian was shocked by how busy it was. The place was packed. Every seat at the counter was taken and all the tables were occupied. The last empty spot in the entire restaurant was tucked away in the far corner. Considering himself fortunate, Christian grabbed that before someone else could take it.

      “I’ll be with you in a minute,” Mariah said as she rushed past Christian, pen and pad in hand. She’d gone two or three steps before she realized who it was. Turning back, she offered him a brief but tired smile. “Hello, Christian.”

      “Mariah.” For an instant he had to stop himself from rising out of his chair to help her. The temptation was so strong he had to hold on to the table. She didn’t belong here, doing this job. She should be with him, not a roomful of other men.

      “Mariah, isn’t my order up yet?”

      “Mariah, I need more coffee.”

      “Mariah, did you forget my apple pie?”

      When Christian couldn’t bear to listen any longer, he left the table, hurried past her and directly into the kitchen, where he found Ben filling dinner plates as fast as he could.

      “Don’t you hear what’s going on out there?” he demanded.

      “Sure I do,” Ben said, chuckling. “I’m hearing the clang of that cash register. Didn’t I tell you Mariah’s been a real boon to my sales?”

      “They’re not giving her a moment’s peace!” Christian clenched his fists at his sides.

      “Ben, I need—” Mariah flew into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Christian standing there. “More rolls,” she finished weakly.

      “I want to talk to you,” Christian said, holding her captive with his stare.

      “I can’t.” She looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got a roomful of hungry people all wanting their food right this minute.” Her harried gaze darted past him to the counter, where Ben had placed the rolls. “I’m sorry, Christian, but I just can’t.”

      “You’re running yourself ragged,” he said in a tone few would ignore. His patience was gone. He’d make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. He