into the house and hadn’t been able to find her. For a long time after he woke, his heart continued to race. There was no point in trying to sleep again, so before dawn, he’d dressed and gone to the burned-out cabin. He’d stood there until the sun rose, giving incoherent thanks that Mariah had been spared. “She’s safe.” He’d repeated it over and over—but couldn’t quite forget that she’d almost died.
“What are you going to do now?” Ben asked.
“What can I do? Apologize, I guess,” Christian muttered. He glanced over at the two pilots, feeling like a fool. As it was, his own brother had no use for him. Sawyer had yet to forgive him for losing their secretary, and the situation hadn’t improved, since he hadn’t immediately hired another. Now, to make everything even worse, he seemed to be blaming Christian for the danger to Mariah, for letting her stay in the cabin. Letting her stay!
“Good.” Ben sighed as though the issue of Christian’s apology had been weighing heavily on his mind.
After paying his tab, Christian hurried to the office. Sawyer was busy on the phone and left him to deal with the pilots and their assignments for the day. The usual dissatisfaction broke out, but he dealt with it, if rather more ruthlessly than normal.
During a midmorning lull, Christian slipped out and walked over to the lodge to see Mariah. On the way, he formulated what he wanted to say. He was so intent on putting his apology together that he didn’t notice she was sitting on the front-porch swing.
“Karen and Matt are gone for the morning,” she announced as he began to climb the porch steps.
Christian paused, one foot on the ground and the other on the first stair. His gaze was immediately drawn to the bandages on her hands and then to the sadness in her eyes. The need to comfort her was strong, but he knew she didn’t want anything to do with him now. Personally he didn’t blame her.
Mariah’s hair was tied back, away from her face, and she wore a simple light green summer dress that suited her perfectly. He didn’t recognize it and wondered if one of the woman in town had lent it to her. No matter; she’d never looked lovelier.
“I didn’t come to see Karen or Matt,” he said, finishing the climb.
It was unseasonably warm for late August, despite some cool days the week before. The swing, a recent addition to the lodge, swayed gently in the breeze. He could hear birdsong in the distance. The sun splashed over her shoulders, glinting off her red hair, adding an aura of cheerfulness he knew was false.
He found it difficult to pull his gaze from hers. Her expression was blank, neither welcoming nor unwelcoming.
“I came to apologize for what I said,” he blurted. He might as well deal with the unpleasantness right away. “I didn’t mean it. The last thing I want you to do is leave Alaska.”
“But you wouldn’t object if I found my way out of Hard Luck.” Her voice was as dispassionate as her eyes.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to leave Hard Luck.” She was making this difficult, but then, he suspected he deserved it.
“Here.” He dug inside his pocket and fished out her jade bear. It had taken no small effort to find the figurine in the charred rubble, and unfortunately he’d been unable to recover her purse. He’d spent hours yesterday morning, once the sun had risen, sifting through the ashes and debris.
Mariah’s eyes lit up. “You found my bear!” It was the first emotion she’d shown. Her lower lip trembled, and he realized she was struggling to hold back tears. She gripped the figurine tightly. “Thank you, Christian.”
He shrugged, making light of the accomplishment. “It was nothing.”
Her beautiful brown eyes held his. Annoyed, Christian looked away. Not because he didn’t find her attractive—he did, more so each time he saw her—but because she reminded him of what he’d been trying to forget ever since he’d kissed her. He didn’t want to see her eyes like this, wide and beguiling. He couldn’t resist their luminous beauty or her enticing mouth or soft, pale skin. If he looked at her, he’d want to kiss her again.
He remembered when Charles had first learned about Lanni’s relationship to Catherine Fletcher and how he’d avoided looking at her. But this was different, he told himself. This was Mariah, and his feelings toward her were crystal clear. She needed someone—an older-brother kind of someone—to help her. A friend to steer her in the right direction. Christian wasn’t like his brothers. No, sir. Charles and Sawyer wore their hearts on their sleeves. Not Christian. Sure, he’d kissed Mariah, but that had been a...a fluke.
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