combination bar and restaurant wasn’t very big, and with half the town crowded inside, the noise level skyrocketed. In the distant past Ten Penny had heard about “petit fours” and “little sandwiches without crusts,” so she’d asked Hannah to make some of those “fancy goo-gaws” for her big day. Fortunately Hannah had also made red-hot chili and several sheet cakes—Quicksilver wasn’t ready for finger food.
When she got the chance, Hannah pulled her father to one side. “What’s going on with Ross McCoy? You never said anything about talking to him.”
“Oh? You know he calls the bar every now and then—more before his pa died, of course. The McCoys never had a phone. He always asks about you, too.”
Hannah ignored the pleasure her father’s last statement gave her. “Yes, but why is he here?”
“You’ll have to ask Ross. My, that chocolate cake looks good. I’d better get over there before it’s all gone.”
“Wily old fox,” Hannah muttered.
“Whatever you say, dear. By the way, did I mention Ross is divorced?”
With that last remark, Edgar Liggett made a beeline for the food table, leaving Hannah with narrowed eyes and a tapping foot. She loved her father, but he had an annoying ability to duck out of uncomfortable situations.
And what did he mean about Ross being divorced? With Edgar it could be anything from idle conversation to a suggestion she seduce the guy. Hannah froze at the thought, then shook her head. The idea had a certain appeal, but she didn’t have any skills in the seduction department and she wouldn’t want to hurt her friendship with Ross, anyway. It was funny, but even after all these years, she still considered him her best friend. If her life had gone a little differently, they might have kept in touch. He’d done better than she had—at least he’d written her a few letters.
As for what Ross wanted…she didn’t know what to think. He sat in the corner, calmly eating ice cream with his son and chatting with the partygoers as though he’d never left Quicksilver. Feeling foolish, Hannah headed over to his table on the pretext of bringing Jamie a glass of milk.
“Thanks.” Ross smiled and motioned to the chair next to him. “Can you take a break?”
“Sure. You wanted to talk, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” He pushed the last of his ice cream away. “I understand you never got married.”
“Thanks, rub it in,” Hannah muttered.
He looked surprised. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“Of course not.”
No longer curious, she grabbed his bowl and headed for the kitchen. So much for thinking Ross might understand how she felt. It was different for men; they could father babies until they were old and gray. They didn’t have to worry about biological clocks, which probably explained why they didn’t obsess about falling in love nearly so much as the female half of the species.
“Hannah…”
“What?” she asked.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Hannah sighed. She was being overly sensitive, but that didn’t change the way she felt. “Forget it.” But he stood there waiting and she shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve been teased a lot about Ten Penny’s wedding—you know, about it making me the last spinster. I thought you were getting into the fun, as well.”
Genuine shock registered on his face. “I’d never do that, Hannah. I only brought it up because—”
“Honey, that punch could use some more kick,” called Ten Penny into the kitchen. “But yer daddy’s fresh out of gin at the bar and he can’t find his keys to the storeroom.”
Hannah leaned her forehead against the worn wood of a cabinet for a second. A kick. That’s all she needed—a bunch of elderly revelers getting punch drunk. “Okay, I’ll get it.”
She hurried out again, at the same time checking on Jamie. Despite her muddled emotions, Hannah smiled. Ross had left the boy with three older women, who clucked over him like a bunch of broody hens. There weren’t many children in Quicksilver; the town didn’t have any opportunities for young families, so most of them migrated to larger communities like Anchorage or Fairbanks.
Ross caught her arm. “Let’s sneak out for a little while.”
“I’m busy.” Hannah pulled away, but he followed her to the storeroom. Honestly, he’d waited over seventeen years to come see her, and now he acted like the building was on fire and he didn’t have a moment to waste.
“I am very, very serious. Could we please go somewhere private?” he asked.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “I have a wedding reception to take care of, Ross. Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and help me? There’s plenty of time. We can talk later.”
“Well, I—”
“Honey, where’s that gin?” call Ten Penny.
“Coming.”
Sighing again, Hannah hunted up a bottle and pushed past Ross. The small room felt even smaller with him filling up the entrance, his eyes dark and intent as they watched her. It was uncomfortable, feeling so aware of him as a man.
“Here you go.”
She handed the bottle to Ten Penny, who proceeded to empty it into the bowl. Hannah grimaced as the scent of gin assailed her senses; ordinarily she left serving spirits to her father, but this was a special occasion.
“That’s better, darlin’,” said Ten Penny, smacking her lips over the fortified punch. She handed a cup to her groom, who nodded with equal approval.
“That’s fine,” Joe crowed. “Have some, too, Hannah girl. “It’ll put hair on yer chest.”
His bride shook a finger at him. “Hush, Joe. Hannah don’t need no hair on her chest. Ain’t that right, Ross?” she called. “You been looking plenty at Hannah’s chest. It looks just dandy, don’t it?”
“Uh…” Ross choked, and heat crept up his neck. “Her chest is fine.”
Edgar Liggett stood across the room, glaring with parental indignation, and Ross whistled beneath his breath. Proposing to Hannah was a whole lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be. As for Hannah…He turned and saw her studying him with a strained expression on her face.
Great. Thanks to Joe and Ten Penny she probably thought he’d turned into a sex fiend over the years, and it wasn’t true. He was a normal man who enjoyed looking at a woman’s body; Hannah had grown up very nicely and he appreciated that fact.
“Hannah?” called someone else from across the room. “You got any more coffee?”
“And sugar,” added another voice.
Ross gritted his teeth. It seemed as if everyone in Quicksilver had a claim on Hannah’s time and attention, and a vague sense
