“Sorry. You’ve earned it. Both of you. But things are tight. Tighter than I thought they would be.”
Will took in Rick’s camos, which looked as if they’d never been worn, in contrast to his and Matt’s, which had seen more than a few hunting and guiding trips. Maybe Rick had a different definition of “tight” than they did.
Rick sighed. “It’s the economy right now. It’s tough on everyone. But we’ll push through it, take some more trips, come back out on top.” He sounded as if he was reassuring himself as much as them, which made it easier for Will not to hold the lack of raise against him. “You’ll see, guys.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Will finally spoke up. “It’s just money.”
Matt nodded along with him, as did Rick, who cleared his throat and added, “Just money indeed.”
“Listen, I’ve got to head out. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Will waved on his way out the door.
Barrow Dry Goods was crowded when Will ran in to pick up dinner. Maybe he should have accepted Matt’s invitation. Anything would have been better than eating alone at a two-person table in his kitchen, listening to the silence in the house that screamed of how alone he was.
Nights like this made him miss what he’d had—before the accident had taken Rachael from him.
He fought to push those thoughts away as he headed down the aisle toward the frozen foods. The past was long gone and he knew—he’d heard it often enough—that it was time to move on.
Still, as he surveyed his options and weighed them—frozen pizza versus frozen Chinese food—he couldn’t seem to stop the memories from coming. Marrying right out of college had probably been half-crazy, but they’d been kids in love and unwilling to listen to anyone who thought they knew better. And they had several happy years. At least they were happy for Will. He’d always felt a little like he was holding Rachael back. She’d wanted to explore all of Alaska, take every adventure life had to offer, and he’d just wanted to live life with her. He wasn’t afraid of taking chances, but he didn’t seek them out the way Rachael did. The avalanche that had claimed her life on a wilderness skiing trip had been only two years after they married. Seven years ago in January.
He grabbed the frozen pizza and shut the freezer door, spinning around and running right into another customer. As his pizza and whatever she was holding crashed to the ground, Will berated himself for not paying better attention. He had to get out of his head. Stop living in years long past.
He brushed himself off, located his pizza and stood, offering a hand to the woman he’d run into. She took it and he helped her up.
And then the past was standing right in front of him again in the form of his childhood best friend’s little sister. All grown up.
“Will?” McKenna’s green eyes blinked their disbelief.
“What are you doing here?” The words came out harsher than he meant them to. He knew it as soon as her eyes narrowed and he saw in them a flicker of her Irish temper.
“Is this another one of those places that’s too dangerous for a girl?” she retorted.
“You’re seriously still mad that Luke and I wouldn’t let you tag along when we were kids?”
“No,” she said with a frown that clearly said yes.
“We were young. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Not to mention the fact that Will had always thought she was kind of cute. Staying away from her as much as possible had always seemed like the best option—it broke about a hundred guy rules to have a crush on your friend’s little sister.
“I could take care of myself just fine back then.” She straightened even taller and lifted her chin, which stretched her height to an unintimidating five foot three. “And I can take care of myself even better now.”
Will nodded slowly and lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay. It was just a question.” He let out a breath slowly, willing his heart rate to return to a normal speed. He could still vaguely remember the day when, as a five-year-old, he’d gone over to see his best friend’s new baby sister. He was the youngest in his family and hadn’t been around babies much, so he’d expected her to be cute and quiet like babies on TV. Instead, her newborn face had been scrunched into a scowl and she’d screamed like she was being pinched.
She’d been a spitfire since day one, and nothing had changed.
“I’m here,” McKenna began, “because I got a...” She stumbled over her words. “I got a promotion.”
“And what is it you’re doing now?” Will couldn’t remember if Luke had said what McKenna was up to last time they’d talked. And though Will had wondered, he never felt comfortable asking.
Her gaze darted around them. “I’m a wildlife trooper,” she said softly.
“Why are we whispering?”
She looked around again. Uneasiness crawled over Will as he felt his muscles tighten. “What’s wrong?”
McKenna licked her lips, swallowed hard and then shrugged with forced casualness. “Don’t worry about it.”
“McKenna, just tell me.”
It had been the wrong thing to say. She glared in his direction and tilted her chin in the air the way she’d always done when she was trying to look taller. “It was nice seeing you, Will. But I’ve got to turn in early tonight, so I’d better be going.”
He wasn’t done talking about whatever was making her act weird. Not even close. But the firm set of her lips made it clear she was finished with that discussion. At least for now.
“I’ll be seeing you around, I guess,” he offered. “Let me know if you want to get together sometime.”
Her half smile was less than convincing. “I’ll do that.”
Without a backward glance she whirled around and strode off, dark red hair bouncing on her shoulders as she walked. He was alone. Again.
Will looked down at the pizza he held and shoved it back into the freezer. He wasn’t so hungry after all.
McKenna’s plan to get home early and get some sleep was a complete failure.
How was she supposed to sleep knowing she was once again living in the same town as Will Harrison? She’d had a crush on her brother’s best friend since elementary school. There’d been a time when she had thought maybe he was interested in her, too—but she’d done nothing but embarrass herself that summer when she let a little of her interest be known. He’d only seen her then as a kid. Almost like his own little sister.
McKenna wished there was a way to douse cold water on the warm feelings seeing him caused to bloom in her heart. Maybe it would be easier if his eyes weren’t the same electric blue of glacier ice and just as mysterious. Or maybe if his black hair didn’t curl around his ears in such a perfect combination of messy and adorable.
Not
