Alaska Skies. Debbie Macomber

      He hesitated, then said in crisp tones, “No problem.”

      The pulse in his temple throbbed visibly, and Abbey suspected that it was, in fact, very much of a problem.

      “I brought the Baron,” he said, directing the three of them toward the luggage carousel. “All I can say is I hope you packed light.”

      Abbey wasn’t sure how she was supposed to interpret “packed light.” Everything she and the children owned that would fit was crammed into their suitcases. Everything that hadn’t gone into their luggage had been sold, given away or handed over to a shipping company and would arrive within the month. She hoped.

      “Look, Mom,” Scott said, pointing at the wall where a variety of stuffed animals were displayed. Abbey shuddered, but her son’s eyes remained fixed on the head of a huge brown bear. Its teeth were bared threateningly.

      “That silly bear stuck his head right through the wall,” Sawyer joked.

      Scott laughed, but Susan stared hard as if that just might be possible.

      When they’d collected all the luggage, Sawyer stepped back, frowning. “You brought six suitcases.”

      “Yes, I know,” Abbey said calmly. “We needed six suitcases.”

      “I don’t have room for all those in the plane. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get you, two kids, the mail and the rest of the cargo inside, much less enough luggage to sink a battleship. If you’d let me know, I could’ve brought a larger plane.”

      Abbey bit back a sarcastic reply. She’d tried to tell Christian about her children, but he’d been too interested in his dinner date to listen to her. She hadn’t purposely hidden anything from him or Sawyer. And, good grief, how was she supposed to know how much luggage some airplane would hold?

      “Never mind,” Sawyer grumbled impatiently, “I’ll figure it out later. Let’s get going.”

      Abbey would’ve liked something to eat, but it was clear Sawyer was anxious to be on his way. Fortunately Scott and Susan, unlike their mother, had gobbled down what the airline laughably called a meal.

      They loaded everything into the bed of a pickup and drove around the airport to a back road, which took them to an area used by various flight service operators.

      “All that stuff belongs to Mom and Susan,” Scott whispered conspiratorially as Sawyer helped him out of the cab. “They’re the ones who insisted on bringing everything.”

      “Sounds just like a couple of women,” Sawyer muttered. He led them to the plane.

      Abbey wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this compact dual-engine aircraft wasn’t it. She peeked inside and realized that what Sawyer had said was true. There was barely room for her, let alone the children and all their luggage.

      “There’s only three seats,” she said, looking nervously at Sawyer. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to figure out that three seats wasn’t enough for four people.

      “You’ll have to sit on my desk—the seat beside mine,” Sawyer instructed after climbing aboard the aircraft. “And I’ll buckle the kids together on the other seat.”

      “Is that legal?”

      “Probably not in the lower forty-eight,” he told her, “but we do it here. Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” He moved toward the cockpit, retrieved a black binder and a stack of papers from the passenger seat and crammed them into the space between the two seats.

      “Go on in and sit down,” he said, “while I see to the kids.”

      Abbey climbed awkwardly inside and carefully edged her way forward. By the time she fastened the seat belt, she was breathless.

      Sawyer settled Scott and Susan in the remaining seat behind her. One look at her children told Abbey neither was pleased with the arrangement. But it couldn’t be avoided.

      “What about our luggage?” she asked when Sawyer slipped into the seat next to her.

      He placed earphones over his head, then reached for the binder and made a notation in it.

      “Our luggage?” she repeated.

      “The suitcases don’t fit. We’re going to have to leave them behind.”

      “What?” Abbey cried. “We can’t do that!”

      Sawyer ignored her and continued to ready the plane for takeoff.

      “How long is the flight?” Scott asked.

      “About an hour.”

      “Can I fly the plane?”

      “Not this time,” Sawyer responded absently.

      “Later can I?”

      “We’ll see.”

      “Mr. O’Halloran,” Abbey said with a heavy sigh, “could we please discuss the luggage situation?”

      “No. My contract is to deliver the mail. That’s far more important. I’m not going to unload cargo for a bunch of silly female things you aren’t going to need, anyway.”

      Abbey gritted her teeth. “I didn’t bring silly female things. Now if you’d kindly—”

      Sawyer turned around and looked at Scott. “Do you like dogs?”

      Scott’s eyes grew huge. “You bet I do,” he answered breathlessly.

      Sawyer adjusted some switches. “When we get to Hard Luck, I’ll take you over to meet Eagle Catcher.”

      “Is he a husky?”

      “Yup.”

      “Really?” Scott sounded as if he’d died and gone to heaven. He was so excited it was a wonder he didn’t bounce right out of the seat.

      “Um, about our luggage?” Abbey hated to be a pest, but she didn’t like being ignored, either. It might be unimportant to Buck Rogers here, but she’d rather they arrived in Hard Luck with something more than the clothes on their backs.

      He didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he started the engines and chatted in friendly tones with a man in the control tower. Come to think of it, he chatted in friendly tones with everyone but her.

      Before Abbey could protest further, they were taxiing toward the runway.

      In no time they were in the air. Above the roar of the twin engines, Abbey could hear nothing except the pounding of her heart. She’d never flown in a plane this small, and she closed her eyes and held on tightly as it pitched and heaved its way into the clear blue sky.

      “Wow!” Scott shouted. “This is fun.”

      Abbey didn’t share his reaction. Her stomach did a flip-flop as the plane banked sharply to one side. She braced her hands against the seat, muttering, “Come on! Straighten up and fly right, can’t you?”

      Still talking to the tower, Sawyer glanced at her and grinned. “Relax,” he said. “I haven’t been forced to crash-land in two or three months now.”

      “In other words, I haven’t got a thing to worry about.” Abbey shouted to be heard above the engines. She peeked over her shoulder to be sure Scott and Susan weren’t frightened. They weren’t—quite the opposite. They smiled at her, thrilled with their first small-plane ride. She, on the other hand, preferred airplanes that came equipped with flight attendants.

      Abbey wasn’t able to make out much of the landscape below. She’d been disappointed earlier; during the flight from Anchorage to Fairbanks, Mount McKinley had been obscured by clouds. The pilot had announced that the highest mountain in North America was visible less than twenty percent of the time. He’d joked that perhaps it wasn’t really there at all.

      She glanced away from the window and back at Sawyer.