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Klondike Hero
Jillian Hart
A tiny town full of churchgoing, marriage-minded men? For Karenna Digby, freshly abandoned at the altar, Treasure Creek sounds like a dream come true. Until she's stranded at the ranch of the one bachelor not looking for love.With his past, search-and-rescue tour guide Gage Parker can barely open his heart to the baby nephew he's caring for, let alone his young and pretty new nanny. Until Karenna leads her Klondike hero on the greatest adventure of all: love.



“Why don’t you like me, Gage?”
She hitched her chin up a notch, studying him with blue eyes capable of bending unsuspecting men to her will.
“As far as I can tell, Karenna, you ran out on your wedding. What you’re doing here in a wedding dress is anyone’s guess. Why didn’t you change on the way? Or did you think the men here would be rubes, easily tricked into marrying you, so you didn’t bother to change?”
“Believe me, if you are anything like the rest of the men in this town, then I want to sue that magazine for false reporting. You are hardly hunky, marriage-minded or charming.” Okay, maybe she’d gotten carried away. Gage Parker was hunky, but that was about all the good she could say about him.
Alaskan Bride Rush: Women are flocking to the Land of the Midnight Sun with marriage on their minds

JILLIAN HART
grew up on her family’s homestead, where she helped raise cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.

Klondike Hero
Jillian Hart


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Lord is near to all who call upon Him.
—Psalms 145:18

Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion

Prologue
Karenna Digby pulled her car in front of the diner in nowhere, Washington State—she had no idea where she was—and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. The lace cuff of her sleeve caught on the emergency brake. Stupid wedding dress. She was tired, heartbroken and starving. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had a real meal, since she’d been dieting to fit into her gown for months.
She shoved open the door, the tap of rain on her face felt like the tears she could not shed. She grabbed her purse and her dress’s train, planted her expensive white shoes on either side of a huge puddle. Yes, she would have to park in a puddle. That was the way her day—her would-be wedding day—was going. She slammed the door and spotted the “Just Married” sign on her back window.
Stupid sign. She skirted the puddle, tossed her train over the crook of her arm and tore at it. It ripped in half, one piece sticking stubbornly to the window. What had her sisters used to adhere it to the glass? Superpowered glue? It wouldn’t come off.
The heavens opened, and the rain turned to a torrential downpour. Leaving the tattered half of the sign for later, she wove around the puddles on the worn blacktop. She could only hope she didn’t look as bedraggled as she felt—then she caught her reflection in the diner’s windows and groaned at the lonely bride with wilting roses braided into her hair.
“Table for two?” The gum-cracking waitress asked at the rickety podium that served as a hostess stand.
“No. There’s just me.”
“I see. Sorry to hear it. Once that happened to me, too, honey.” She led the way down the aisle in sensible rubber shoes that squeaked with her gait. “What you have to do is not let it get to you. Get back up, shake off the hurt and find you another man. Don’t let one bad seed ruin your attitude about love.”
“Thanks.” She slipped into the booth patched with duct tape and let the train fall to the bench beside her. At least she wasn’t the only bride in history to have been left at the altar. It just felt that way.
“Menus are on the table.” The waitress pulled a pad out of her pocket. “What you want to drink, hon?”
“Coffee, please.” She would start with that. Her stomach might be growling, but she wasn’t sure she could keep down anything more than liquids. Devastation hung on her like a lead weight. She thought of her family’s fury at her, and her younger sisters, both married of course, patting her consolingly. “He’ll come to his senses,” Kim had said. “You just have to be patient with him,” Katie had advised.
Patient? She wanted to be married. She had the dress. She’d had the groom. She had a future as Alan’s wife all mapped out. How could he do this to her? Her two-carat engagement ring sparkled as she reached for the worn, laminated menus tucked between the paper napkin dispenser and the wall. She didn’t know what to do. She’d dated Alan for seven years. They’d been high-school sweethearts and attended the University of Washington together, strolling hand in hand down the tree-lined avenues and along picturesque walkways, and studying in their favorite carrels in the undergraduate library.
Now that was all gone. All the love and hope vanished as if they’d never been.
Send me a sign, Lord. Please. Show me what to do. She yanked the menu free, and bold print caught her eye. There was a magazine tucked against the wall, its pages folded over to an article with a catchy headline. “Treasure Creek, Alaska, Seeks Brides for Hunky Habitants!” Rain dripped off her hair as she seized the magazine and spread it out on the table in front of her. Hunky men were looking for brides? Was this for real?
Sure enough, the picture above the headline showed a small town, tucked into the gentle embrace of thick, lush forests and reaching, breathtaking mountains. Another picture, inset into the article, showed a long-angled shot of a cute old-fashioned town and a sign that read, Welcome to Treasure Creek.
“A customer left that behind.” The waitress returned, overturned the cup and poured. “Interesting article. If I was single, I might hop in the car and go take a look. I mean, good, decent single men are hard to find.”
“And even when you do, they have commitment issues.”
“Amen, sister.” The waitress set the carafe down and hauled out her notepad. “Does anything on the menu look good?”
Maybe she could eat. She ordered a cup of soup and a club sandwich and turned her attention back to the Now Woman magazine article.
“Think all the good men are taken? Not so in tiny, charming Treasure Creek, Alaska, population 724. The hunky inhabitants are churchgoing, marriage-minded single men in a town with one woman for every five men! Many of them are tour guides for the town’s popular tour company, Alaska’s Treasures.”
Churchgoing and marriage-minded sounded good. In fact, it sounded heaven-sent. She grabbed the sugar jar and upended it over the steaming cup, stirring it into the black, tarry brew as she kept reading….
“Alaska’s Treasures is run by the founder’s widow, Amy James. They’re the best tour guides in the state, she says, proudly. And they’re the hottest, ladies. A handsome pediatrician, originally from the big city, moonlights as a tour guide along the famous Klondike Highway, the very route taken by the gold rush stampede of 1898. No worries if you break a nail on the trail, ladies, he’ll be right there to mend it!”
A glossy photograph of a totally hunky man with brownish hair and blue eyes stared back at her. The caption underneath the picture stated jauntily, “Doctor Alex Havens is single, ladies!”
Not bad. Karenna took a sip of coffee, let the heat and sweetness roll over her tongue. Rain sluiced down the window, smearing the view of the outside world, making the small diner seem cozy and the agony of the morning fade a notch. If only she could make her despair fade, too.
A muffled electronic chime rang from inside her purse. She unzipped the compartment and checked her cell. Her sister calling. Karenna squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the humiliation. Her stomach knotted, knowing what Kim would say. All that money, and no wedding. All the time spent, and for nothing. Come back and try to fix things.
She took a deep breath and let it ring. She wasn’t up to talking about her failures right now. What she needed was hope. She’d spent seven years of her life on a man who ran at the reality of marrying her. She’d wasted seven years loving someone who didn’t truly love her back.
When she opened her eyes, the article stared up at her. She turned the page and several more hunky men smiled up at her, all proclaimed bachelors, each handsome face looking like Mr. Right. Maybe these Alaska bachelors were the kind of men who knew how to keep promises and make commitments, men of honor and great of heart. Interested, she kept reading.
“So many of the guides, from the hunky chief of police to the strapping commercial fishermen, are among Alaska’s Most Eligible bachelors. So, ladies, if you’re looking for the adventure vacation of a lifetime that just might last a lifetime, what are you waiting for?”
Thirty-eight hours, forty-two minutes and a few coffee breaks later…

Chapter One
“I’ve got more diapers and formula,” Gage Parker grumbled into the pay phone on the corner of the town’s main street. Treasure Creek, Alaska, sandwiched between rugged snowcapped peaks and pristine forests, was an old gold-rush town currently jam-packed with women, thanks to some magazine article. He couldn’t hear a single word his grandmother said, because a pair of fancy women strolled by the booth, talking and giggling and commenting on how quaint everything was.
He didn’t like “quaint” and he didn’t like giggling women. Women were everywhere in a town where females were usually scarce. They’d all flown in with their mounds of luggage and driven in with their city cars—not a four-wheel-drive among them. Even in the falling twilight, he could see them. They strolled the sidewalks, took up tables at Lizbet’s Diner and went exploring in the wilderness, which is why he was out at nine forty-five at night when any sensible person would be home. But no, some clueless woman had gotten herself stuck halfway up a cliff this evening and he’d been on the search-and-rescue team that rapelled down to save her.
“I didn’t know rock climbing would be so hard,” the clueless gal had breathlessly explained, once she was clipped in and safely against his chest. She smiled coyly up at him. “My, don’t you have strong arms.”
Ugh. The lack of needy women was one of the big draws for moving from Seattle back to Alaska. His grandmother needing help had been the other.
“Sounds like all kinds of commotion is going on,” Gran chirped, downright chipper on the other end of the line. She would be. Nothing tickled her more than that article telling about how Treasure Creek’s men wanting for wives seriously outnumbered the available women. “Any of those gals catch your fancy, Gage?”
“Wishful thinking on your part. There would have to be something wrong with a woman to want to get tangled up with the likes of me.” He had proof of that in his ex-wife, who had been one of those women who’d wanted a wedding but not marriage. She’d seen her vows as merely a suggestion on how to behave as a wife. “Anything else you need me to do in town?”
“I’ll take pity on you, my boy, and I won’t tell you to find a nice girl and bring her on home—at least this time. You already know the baby could use a mama.”
Oh, she was having a heyday. Gage shook his head, trying to drum up some patience. He didn’t want to hurt the elderly woman’s tender feelings. “My nephew is doing just fine with the two of us. What I need is to find the right nanny, not a wife—just so we’re clear on that.”
“That won’t stop me from praying the right woman for you comes along.”
Great. More prayers. Just what he needed. God had better things to do than trying to fix the impossible. The darkness he’d seen in his recent life had only reinforced that. His baby nephew’s mother had died, his brother had been too busy to raise the child and dumped him off just shy of a week ago. Ben James, Gage’s boss and one of his close friends, had died in an on-the-job accident in January, leaving his wife, Amy, a widow, with two young sons and a struggling business. Not to mention his own fight to recover from a bitter divorce. That was plenty enough disillusion to go around.
Yep, there didn’t seem much reason to believe God was up there looking out for him. Not these days. He shook his head. “Gran, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and head home.”
“You and that surly disposition of yours. You had better shape up. You never know when your future wife will come along and you go and scare her off. Why, you could meet her on the street tonight.”
“Sure, she could fall from the sky like manna from heaven.” He did his best not too sound too cynical. His grandmother was a firm believer. He didn’t want to mar that for her. He wished he had her strength of faith—a strength she maintained despite all her life’s hardships.
He ended the call and grumbled because his cell phone had run out of juice. He wove around another pair of women dressed up in what they thought was Alaska garb, who probably had bought their pricey outfits in some fancy boutique in Beverly Hills. Ridiculous. Thoroughly disgruntled, he hopped into his four-wheel-drive. He pulled his black SUV away from the curb and had to wait for someone in a Porsche—what were people thinking?—to squeeze into a space between a tractor and an ancient pickup, before he could motor away from the madness.
On the outskirts of town, he breathed a pent-up sigh of relief. He hadn’t dealt with traffic congestion since he’d been commuting across Seattle’s Evergreen Bridge twice a day.
His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. By the time he’d turned off the main road from town and headed home, twilight was deepening. He switched the vehicle’s headlights to bright. The beams swept the shadowed, narrow two-lane road, illuminating undergrowth, a long wood fence line and two grazing deer, who fled into the woods.
Something reflected up ahead. He slowed down, a bad feeling settling into his gut. It looked like dark taillights and the back window of a sports car. Not a car he recognized, and he knew everyone who lived on this road. Not one of his neighbors would be foolish enough to own a car they couldn’t drive when the weather turned and the roads muddied up.
Probably another one of those desperate women.
Great. Just what he needed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. Tension seeped back into his muscles. He slowed down, close enough to make out a faded-purple Fiat perched on the narrow shoulder. The hood was up and the car appeared abandoned. A torn sign hung from the back window, bearing a single, bright pink word: Just.
He rolled to a stop and something white moved from behind the raised hood and into the sweep of his high beams. A woman. No, a bride. He dimmed the lights and hopped out of his rig. He noticed the Washington state plates, an expired UW parking permit decal in the window and the bad feeling in his gut turned into an ulcer. Not just another one of those marriage-crazy women who’d come to town, but this one had brought her wedding dress. How enterprising. Looked like she was having a bit of trouble, and not just with the car. He wondered what happened to the “Married” part of the sign, a sign that looked as tattered as she did.
“What are you doing here? This is a private road,” he bellowed.
“Yes, I figured that out as soon as I turned onto it. But is there a place to turn around anywhere? No.” She marched toward him, apparently not at all a shy, retiring sort of woman. He placed her as somewhere in her early to midtwenties. Fury punctuated every word and pounded in her heeled footsteps. “Obviously, I’m having car trouble. Do I look like I want to be here?”
“It’s hard to say, with the dress.”
“Oh, don’t even mention that.” Her eyes flared.
She could be a cute little thing if she wasn’t so angry. Note to self: Don’t let this one too close. It wasn’t often a man got to see what lurked beneath a woman’s guileless face and pretty smile before they said “I do.” What he could already see was a major turn-off. He took a step back, because he didn’t need this kind of a headache. He had enough of his own. “I’ll put a call in and get a tow truck out here.”
“Great. You have a cell phone?”
“Not a working one.”
“You don’t? You’re kidding, right? Mine wouldn’t get reception out here. Stupid phone.” She hiked up her skirt and gave the Fiat’s back tire a hard kick. “Stupid car.”
“Ordinarily, I’d worry about a woman alone at night, but my guess is that you can hold your own against any threat, including a bear.” No doubt a grizzly would take a look at her and run.
“Bears?” The anger drained away. She turned to face him, standing full in the light. Soft golden curls tumbled to her shoulders and framed a face that was both beautiful and unique. Big china-blue eyes dominated her pixie face, with a perfect slope of a nose and a mouth that had to have been sculpted by angels. “Are there really bears here?”
“Yes, but not many would want to take you on.” Maybe he’d better look at her engine first, then figure out what to do with her. “What’s with the car?”
“It started smoking. The temperature thingy has been higher than normal for a while. I think from about Vancouver on.”
“British Columbia?” He grabbed the flashlight he kept behind the seat.
“But a few miles down the road it started creeping into the red zone. There was no place to stop, so I turned in here, thinking there might be a house. But there are only trees.”
“And your husband? Didn’t he have the sense to check the fluids?” Please tell me there is a husband, he thought. “Where is he?”
“No idea.”
Figures. Love and marriage were supposed to mean something, but not to this flighty woman. “Why did you leave him? What was the problem? He wouldn’t do what you wanted? Wouldn’t take you on the honeymoon of your dreams? Give you every little thing you demanded?”
“Not your business.” The anger returned, her soft jawline went rigid and her hands turned into fists that looked ready to punch something. Maybe him. “What about the tow truck?”
“I’m going to have to call from home, but I’m not wild about taking you to my house.”
“Me, either.” She hiked up her chin. “Where’s the closest residence? I was about to grab my things and start walking, but I didn’t know which way to go. I haven’t seen anyone so far on this road.”
“Myron lives up a ways. You’re right. It’s too far to walk. I’ll take you there. Get in.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
That made two of them. She yanked open the Fiat’s door and pain shot through her fingertip. Another broken nail. The third one to break on this impulsive trip. So much for her pre-wedding spa day. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been. She’d been driving on pure anger, coffee and heartbreak all the way. She yanked her purse off the seat and followed the mountain man to his SUV. Maybe she should introduce herself. “I’m Karenna Digby.”
“Gage Parker.” He wasn’t a friendly sort, and there was no missing the frown he tossed at her. No doubt he didn’t think much of her.
And why would he? She looked a fright. If only she wasn’t wearing this stupid gown. This dress had been the start of her problems—the catalyst that set everything in motion. The gown she had to have, that had cost three months of her salary, because it had represented everything she’d prayed for as a little girl.
She gathered up her train, climbed into the passenger seat and groaned at the pristine condition of the leather. She sat down, wincing because she wasn’t exactly sure how much dirt, mud and grease was on her skirt. Should she apologize ahead of time? One sideways glance at Gage Parker made her change her mind about saying anything at all. Stoic guy, dark look, scary frown. Best to clean up any grime she left behind after she’d gotten out of the vehicle.
He slammed her door, circled in front of his Jeep and stalked through the headlights like a Sasquatch. He was deep shadows, big brawn and leashed power. Suddenly the shadowy woods seemed enormous and she felt very small. Miniscule, in fact. She’d been so steamed about Alan leaving her at the church, her broken-down car and her emotional decision to drive all the way to Alaska, it hadn’t even occurred to her she was alone with a strange man. Sitting in his SUV. He could be a rapist or a serial killer who lived in a weird cabin, miles from known civilization.
The driver’s door swung open and he angled in behind the wheel. No smile, no reassuring clue to signify he was a decent, respectable, law-abiding, nondangerous man. The dome light winked out, leaving him in shadow, making it easier to think the worst.
Okay, I’m out of my element, alone in the dark. Could You please send me a little sign here, Lord? Just something, so I know I’m all right? She knew the Lord might be busy. There was a world of strife and suffering He was tending to, but she still hoped for a small heavenly hint before the SUV started to roll and it was too late to jump out.
“When you get to Myron’s, be sure you call the hotel so they can hold your room.” The mountain man eased his vehicle around her disabled car and accelerated along the road. Twilit forests and a pair of antlers on a startled-looking deer sped past her window.
“My room?” She bit her lip, not quite wanting to admit the truth to the imposing man. Of course he would assume she had a reservation. Any sensible person would. But had she taken the time? No. She’d been too wound up and upset over Alan’s hastily scrawled note.
“I don’t love you enough to marry you,” he’d written. “You’re just too much to deal with.”
“You have a room, right?” Mr. Imposing glowered at her. The look on his face clearly said he thought she was one of those stupid women who wouldn’t have planned ahead.
Since she’d used that word a lot over the last thirty-eight and a half hours, she couldn’t argue with him. Her mother’s voice blasted in her head like a badly burned CD. “You have no common sense, Karenna. You don’t think things through. Who can blame Alan for chickening out? I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”
No place to sleep. Another inadvertent blunder. She should have done an Internet search for Treasure Creek hotels. Now what? She couldn’t look at Mr. Disapproving, so she pulled at a loose thread on her embroidered skirt. “This wasn’t exactly a planned trip. I figured I could find something once I was here.”
“Do you realize half the women in the contiguous United States are in Treasure Creek? At least it seems that way. There can’t be an available hotel room within fifty miles.”
She hadn’t been the only one to read the article. Of course. She hadn’t looked before she leaped. She’d been too busy trying to escape her grief. How could she admit that out loud? She would have to talk about what happened—about her shattered hopes and Alan’s hurtful letter. Better to let this guy think she was a flake in a ruined wedding dress.
She twisted in the seat to take one last look at the shadowed hump of her car on the lonely road. That’s when she noticed something in the man’s backseat. A baby’s car seat. Tension rushed out of her and Gage Parker no longer looked intimidating or questionable. Strong and stoic and grim, maybe, but he was a father. A decent family man. That meant his wife and child were waiting for him at home. No wonder he was put out.
“Without a reservation, you’re probably out of luck,” he growled, wheeling his vehicle off the road and down a bumpy dirt driveway. “Myron might be able to suggest someone who could put you up for the night.”
“You mean stay in someone’s house?”
“Don’t figure there’s any room at the boarding house, either. Which means there are no other options, unless you want to sleep in your car. Maybe you want to try to find that husband of yours? He might have dug up a room somewhere.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that, since I didn’t exactly marry him.”
“Why am I not surprised?” His scowl deepened, emphasizing the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, age lines that placed him somewhere in his midthirties.
Maybe he was feeling sympathy for Alan. Maybe Gage Parker would agree with her mother’s assessment of things. Karenna hung her head, not knowing what else to say.
She didn’t so much care what the mountain man thought of her. She was starting to see his point. This is what happened when you acted out of upset, not calm, rational thought. She had no idea when calm, rational thought was going to kick in. She prayed it would be any second.
A glaze of lights glowed in the shadows up ahead. It was hard to see the surrounding area because of the dense trees, but she caught an impression of a big shed, a woodpile stacked higher than a house and a ramshackle cabin with torn curtains in the windows. The door swung open and a gnarled man’s silhouette was backlit by the light as he put a round into the chamber of the biggest rifle Karenna had ever seen.
“Ho there,” Gage called through the open window, as he stopped the Jeep. “Myron, I need to use your phone.”
“Is that you, Parker?” The man ambled onto a broken-down porch and squinted at the windshield. “Is that the gal you rescued from the cliff?”
“Nah. This is a different one. Her car died out on the road.” He opened the door and hopped to the ground. An old hound dog loped around the side of the house, yowling. Gage paid it no heed. “She needs a tow truck. You wouldn’t mind if she waited with you, right?”
“What? Are you kiddin’?” The old man moved down a few steps and glared harder at her. She could feel his disapproval piercing the tempered glass. “Is that a weddin’ dress she’s wearin’? I don’t want nothin’ to do with that.”
“C’mon, Myron. You know I’ve got my hands full at home.” Gage’s voice was a murmur now, as the two men bent together conspiratorially in the poorly lit front yard. The hound put his paws on the edge of the driver’s seat, sniffed the air and barked at her. No way was she able to hear what was going on.
What she needed was to get out of the vehicle and beg the old man to help her. Although it did look kind of scary out there, so shadowy, with the forest right up next to the buildings. Surely, he was a kind soul who wouldn’t turn away a woman in need? Hadn’t the magazine article said the town was full of noble men and handsome hero types? She opened her door and something big, furry and black lunged at her.
Yikes. A bear! She pulled the door closed with all her might and screamed when something hit the window. Beady green eyes glowed through the glass. Fear exploded through her and she flew out of the seat. The belt yanked tight, holding her in place.
The dog silenced, Gage hopped behind the wheel and slammed the door. “That’s a no go. I can’t believe Myron. He doesn’t like brides, either.”
“B-bear,” she sputtered out, pointing at the window. The beast beat against the glass again, rocking the Jeep.
“That’s Myron’s other dog.” Gage shook his head at her. “You don’t know much, do you?”
That’s exactly what Alan used to say to her. The big black creature loped through the gray twilight—now clearly a mammoth dog—as he joined the grizzled old man on the porch.
She might not know much, but she was learning. Life used to be simple, but it had gone from great to complicated in five seconds flat, and she hadn’t been prepared. Add that to the fact that she was out of her element and she hadn’t slept in nearly two days—and she was a mess. “What now? Are you going to take me back to my car for the night?”
“No.” He sounded unhappy as he wheeled his vehicle around and pointed the headlights down the sorry excuse for a driveway. “You’re coming home with me. But there are going to be rules.”
“Yes, absolutely.” She thought of the wife and child at home, missing him, maybe wondering why he was late. Some women might not be understanding of a husband arriving with a younger woman in tow. “I really appreciate this, Mr. Parker.”
“You’re not to disrupt things. I’ve got a baby in the house. Matthew needs to stay on his schedule.”
“Of course.” Matthew. A little boy. “How old is your son?”
“He’s my nephew. Apparently, my brother decided he had better things to do than raise him, so I’m doing it by default.”
“You and your wife must be extraordinary people, to take in a baby.”
“My wife? That’s a good one.” He shook his head, the SUV accelerating on the dirt lane. They bounced harder until he hit the brakes with an angry punch. The seat belt caught her again, saving her from hitting the dash. “No wife. She had better things to do than stay married to me.”
“I’m sorry.” She could tell the man was hurting. She could make a huge list of all the obvious differences between them, but they had the ravages of failed relationships in common. She felt sorry for him. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”
He glanced at her sideways as he turned off the narrow country road. Surprise carved into his granite features. He really was a handsome man. Dark, thick hair tumbled over a high forehead. His compelling sky-blue eyes and high slash of cheekbones could have belonged to a movie star. The straight blade of his nose didn’t overpower his face, and his mouth and jaw were pure artistry.
If only he didn’t scowl so much.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “I’m off the market for good.”
“Ideas?” She blinked. “You mean marriage?”
“Yes.” He didn’t sound as if he thought she was too bright, either. “That’s another rule. If you want me to help you, you don’t try any funny stuff.”
“Funny stuff?”
“Flirting. And don’t even try to get on my grandmother’s good side.” He sounded angrier and angrier.
She wasn’t exactly impressed. In fact, she was liking him less and less with every passing second. “You live with your grandmother?”
“Remember what I said.” He maneuvered along a tree-lined driveway and gravel crunched beneath the tires. “You leave with the tow truck. Got it?”
“Like I would want to stay.” It wasn’t such a mystery why he was divorced. His plan was sounding like a really good idea. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Mr. Bitter than necessary. She didn’t want his mood or his personality to rub off on her.

Chapter Two
Gage watched the front door of the two-story log home open in a wash of light. Like a beacon, it drew him and Miss Digby closer. A diminutive woman’s shadow appeared in the doorway, drawing a sweater over her shoulders against the cooling night air. No doubt Gran had caught sight of Miss Digby in the Jeep when he’d pulled up, and she was busy drawing all kinds of wrong conclusions.
So not looking forward to this, he thought, and stepped aside to let the jilted bride go first. Karenna swished ahead of him up the concrete walkway and into the porch light’s reach.
“Goodness! Who do we have here?” Gran practically sang, she sounded so happy. “A wayward traveler you found on the drive home?”
He groaned, bracing himself for the obvious comment yet to come—that his grandmother had prayed for him to find a woman. He was no way interested in the too-young, too-cute, too-emotional Miss Digby. He’d rather hike the entire Chilkoot Trail in his bare feet, from start to finish, than let himself be even the smallest bit interested in the woman. It didn’t take a genius to know why she’d come to town. If one groom didn’t work, then go grab another, right?
He frowned at his grandmother so she knew he wasn’t thrilled by the situation. “She needs to use the phone.”
“Yes, I got lost and then my car died,” the wayward bride explained, as she gathered her skirts and hiked up the steps. Her ragged train swept along behind her. “I’m so sorry to inconvenience you.”
“It’s not a lick of trouble, don’t you worry.” Gran looked pleased as punch as she led the way into the house. “We can get Bucky to take a look at your car. Don’t tell me you were on your way to your wedding?”
“More like running away from the disaster my wedding had become.”
“A runaway bride. How mysterious. Come in, dear. You look as if you could use a hot cup of tea and a plate of my homemade cookies.”
Never should have brought the bride home. Gage kicked his boots off on the porch and slapped himself on the forehead. Too late now. Gran looked as cozy as could be, fussing over the young woman. That was his grandmother. Nurturing to all. She looked bursting with excitement, ecstatic that her prayer had been answered. He’d found not just a woman on the way home, but one in a wedding gown.
He stormed into the foyer with shopping bags in hand, and gave the door a shove. The resulting bang reverberated through the house, surprising even him.
“Gage.” Gran looked up from the archway into the kitchen. She winced when a baby’s crying erupted upstairs. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve woken Matthew.”
“Sorry.” He shrugged out of his coat, mad at himself and wishing he could have a do-over on his day. “Want me to get him?”
“You? What do you know about babies?” Gran shook her head, as if she were sorry he’d turned out the way he had. He didn’t know a thing about infants, it was true. She said something to Karenna before disappearing up the stairwell.
He hung his jacket on a wall hook and realized he was alone in the living room. Where had the Digby woman gone? She’d been here a second ago. He followed the sound of water running to the kitchen. She stood at the sink filling the tea kettle.
Interesting.
He set the shopping bag on the counter. “Making yourself at home?”
“I thought I would help out. I don’t feel right, having your grandmother wait on me.” She spun the few steps to the stove and flipped on a burner.
“Then feel free to help yourself to the phone.” He nodded toward the wall phone hanging near the refrigerator. “The local yellow pages are in the top drawer. There are two listings for tow trucks, but Bucky is the one still in business.”
“Why don’t you like me?” She hitched her chin up a notch, studying him with blue eyes capable of bending unsuspecting men to her will.
“What’s not to like?” He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge and twisted the cap. “As far as I can tell, you ran out on your wedding. What you’re doing here in a wedding dress is anyone’s guess. Why didn’t you change on the way? Or did you think the men here would be rubes, easily tricked into marrying you—so you didn’t bother to change?”
“Believe me, if you are anything like the rest of the men in this town, then I want to sue that magazine for false reporting. You are hardly hunky, marriage-minded or charming.” Okay, maybe she’d gotten carried away. Gage Parker was hunky, but that was about all the good she could say about him.
The baby’s crying grew louder as he grew closer, and she gave the disagreeable mountain man a wide berth as she eased by. Disdain rolled off him in waves.
It didn’t take a genius to guess his story. He’d been so disagreeable, his wife had left him, which had only embittered him more. Sympathy filled her. She knew firsthand how painful that cycle could be. She was a child of divorce. Her parents had battled each other until their bond and their marriage had been nothing but dust and broken promises.
With the way Alan had bailed on her, she could understand the allure of bitterness and blame. She was struggling not to give in to the darker side of her anger. Seeing Gage Parker’s life, living with his grandmother because he’d chased everyone else away, was a good reminder to her. Get the anger out, let go and let God lead her to a better place.
She’d pray for Gage, she decided, glancing over her shoulder. He had made a beeline to the phone and began dialing. No guess as to who he was calling. He did not look happy with her.
“Shhh, little Matthew,” Gage’s grandmother said soothing the baby’s cries in the homey living room. She cradled a blue-wrapped bundle cozily between her neck and her shoulder, one fragile hand caressing small circles against the baby’s back. “It’s all right now. There will be no more scary noises, I can promise you that.”
Karenna caught a glimpse of the baby’s red face and her heart broke at his misery. Poor little guy. She took one look at the older woman, her features hollow with exhaustion. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes. Was she the infant’s sole caretaker? That was a worthy job, but a very demanding one, especially for this frail woman who looked to be struggling with the workload. What was Gage thinking? Determined to help, Karenna bounded through the living room, her own upset and tiredness forgotten.
“Someone’s having a rough night.” She tried to get a better look at the baby. He had a shock of dark hair, and big animated eyes and the cutest button face, scrunched up and tear stained. She placed him around six months old. His hands waved, fisted, with the strength of his sobs. She reached out for the little guy. “Let me take him for you.”
“So you know about babies?” The woman handed over the tyke with smiling approval.
“I worked in a day-care center. A very good one, I’m proud to say, ma’am.” She settled Matthew into the curve of her arm, hurting right along with him. “It’s hard being little, isn’t it? You sound hungry to me. Is that a hungry cry?”
“You can call me Jean, dear. I’ll warm a bottle.” Jean jumped toward the kitchen, eager to help. Easy to see the endless love she had for her great-grandchild.
“I can do it while I’m waiting for the tow truck. After all, you’ve had the day shift. You must be tired.” She gently rocked the child in her arms. “Sit down and relax.”
“What a dear you are, Karenna.” Jean beamed with gratitude. “It has been a wearying day.”
“Then put your feet up. I’ve got this covered.” She shared a smile with the elderly woman before retracing her steps to the kitchen. She began to hum the first tune that popped into her head, “Jesus Loves Me.” Matthew’s crying toned down a notch and his dark blue eyes searched hers. One tiny hiccup and he silenced, gazing up at her intently.
“There now, see? Everything is fine.” She hardly noticed the big surly man standing like a hulk in the center of the kitchen. Easy enough to skirt on by him. She tugged open the fridge. “We’ll get your bottle warm and food in your tummy. Wouldn’t that feel wonderful?”
“This isn’t going to work, you know.” Gage’s frown blasted her like icy wind off a glacier.
“Why? Is there something wrong with the stove?” She transferred a bottle from the refrigerator shelf onto the countertop.
“I’m not talking about the formula. You’re trying to win over my grandmother. I told you I wasn’t going to put up with any manipulation like that.”
“Manipulation?” Confused, she opened a lower cabinet and spied a pan. She snatched it by the handle and stepped around the glowering man. Again. “Sorry. You’re wrong about that. I only want to help.”
“But why?” He took the pan from her and turned on the tap. Water rushed in, and he studied her through his lashes, trying to figure out her angle.
“Because it’s a lot of work to take good care of an infant, something Jean is obviously trying very hard to do. Anyone can see she needs a hand. It’s a lot to juggle all by herself, especially when the baby is down for the night and some man thoughtlessly wakes him up.”
“Okay, I shouldn’t have let the door slam. My fault.” The pan was full, so he walked it over to the stove. “It’s decent of you to lend a hand.”
“Especially since you didn’t seem inclined to do it.” She plunked the bottle into the water and spun the dial. She smelled like roses and springtime, and this close, beneath the bright fluorescent lights, he noticed a tiny blanket of freckles across her nose and the unmistakable signs of exhaustion on her face.
“I don’t know much about babies. That’s why I can’t help.” He turned away, furious at himself. He had no business looking at her long enough to notice anything. She was too young, too pretty, too infuriating and she didn’t belong here.
“You can learn—then you could help.” Her tone had softened. That couldn’t be compassion he heard in her voice, a warm understanding that reached out to him like a balm to his wounds.
He didn’t need it. He didn’t need anyone or anything. “I know. Gran can’t keep doing this all alone. She has health concerns.”
“I wondered.” Gentle, her voice low now, so it wouldn’t carry into the living room. “Look at him. He’s blowing bubbles. You’re a good boy, Matthew. Yes, you are.”
He watched Karenna change before his eyes. Her voice became song and her face took on immeasurable beauty. Loving goodness emanated from her as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. Every fiber of her being seemed focused on Matthew. Amazing. He could be fooled into thinking she was the answer to one of his biggest problems.
The phone rang, drowning out the first notes as her humming turned to singing. He recognized the chorus of “Jesus Loves Me” as he grabbed the receiver. Please let it be Bucky on his way with the tow truck. “Hello?”
“Gage.” Bucky’s easygoing drawl reeled across the line. What a relief. “Got your message. Sorry I won’t be able to make it out your way until tomorrow. I’ve got four other calls lined up before yours, and no way can I work through the night.”
“Four other calls?” He couldn’t have heard right. No, this had to be a bad dream. A nightmare. Maybe he’d only dreamed he’d woken up this morning, went to work taking a raft of city women downriver, answered the search-and-rescue call. If none of it was real, then he would be wake up and Karenna would be gone from his kitchen and his life.
If only.
“It’s all these marriage-minded women. Woo-ee,” Bucky was saying. “It’s a gold rush of a different kind—romance. They say love’s the greatest treasure. I ain’t had this kind of attention since, well, never. I’ll be there when I can, Gage.”
“Bucky. Don’t hang up—” Too late. The call disconnected and dial tone buzzed in his ear. Great. Just what he needed. Maybe he could take a look at the car himself. Maybe it just needed a little water and it could make it to town….
Wishful thinking, and he knew it. He was doomed. Worse, he should have been more like Myron. Recognized the danger of a bride without a wedding ring and kept driving right on by her.
Too bad he wasn’t that kind of man.
“Was that the tow truck guy?” She swept the rumbling tea kettle off the stove with one hand, moving easily, keeping her attention on the baby, completely competent and in her element.
Careful, man. Don’t let your opinion of her change. It was the best weapon he had to keep her at bay. He managed a nod and somehow spoke past the sudden tightness in his throat. “He won’t be able to come until tomorrow morning. I’ll see if I can’t find you a place to stay for the night.”
“That would be decent of you.” She smiled shyly at him—not flirty, not coy, not manipulative. Worry shadowed her, but she looked as if she were trying to hide it.
He took the tea kettle from her and filled the three cups she’d set out, ignoring the sensation of being close to her. If his pulse kicked up a notch, it was probably from the ire of being forced to deal with her.
What did he do about tonight? Chances were slim he could find an available room, but he had to try. He grabbed the phone book, leafed through the pages and squinted at the fine print.
“I made you some chamomile tea.” She slid the mug onto the counter beside him. “Looks like you could use something soothing. I didn’t mean to add to your stress. You look as if you’ve had a rough day.”
“I’m fine,” he bit out, trying to find a reason—any reason—to dislike her more. She didn’t seem dippy at all—or flighty or manipulative—and he wanted her to be. He wished he felt that she was taking advantage of him and trying to play with his feelings.
But no, that was another woman who had been guilty of that. His wife had done a number on him, no doubt about it. He hated to admit he was wrong. Karenna Digby didn’t seem a threat as she moved away with the cup of tea for his grandmother, and left the room with it.
He could hear the lullaby of her voice as she exchanged words with Gran in the living room. He punched in the phone number and waited for it to connect. No room at the inn, he was told, so he punched in the next number. There were only a few hotels in town, plus the boarding house. By the time Karenna had returned to whisk the bottle from the boiling water and test the formula on her wrist, he’d made his last call. Looked like he was stuck with her.

“What a good boy,” Karenna whispered at the crib rail, latching it securely. One look at Matthew asleep in his fluffy blue sleeper made her melt. Such a little doll. She had a soft spot for all babies. It’s what had made her good at her job and what she hoped would make her a good mom one day.
That day was now a lot farther in the future.
She took one last look at the sleeping baby, asked God and His angels to watch over the child and padded into the hallway. She drew the door closed behind her, hoping Gage had found her a place for the night. If not, she always had her car.
“Thanks for helping out.” Gage was sitting in the mostly dark living room. He’d turned all but one lamp off, and he rose, merging with the shadows. “Taking care of the baby is too much for Gran to do alone day in and day out.”
“Isn’t there anyone else to help?”
“No family close by, and I haven’t found a nanny. Don’t think I haven’t tried. Until a few days ago there was a serious scarcity of women in these parts.”
“So I read.” It had seemed eons ago when she’d spotted the little diner north of Bellingham and stopped for coffee. The jury was still out on whether her decision to drive to Alaska had been a good one, but she was hopeful. “Since the hotels are brimming with women, I’m sure you can find someone to hire who won’t mind your surly disposition.”
“Or maybe they are too desperate for marriage to care about my disposition.” A hint of humor warmed his words.
“I suppose that’s what you think I am. Desperate. An opportunist looking for a man.” She spotted her purse on the vanity table behind the sofa and circled around to fetch it. “You think that I heard there were available bachelors and I couldn’t get here fast enough to catch one of them.”
“That’s how it looks.” He moved toward her to stop her from grabbing her purse. “Someone only out for herself and her own gain wouldn’t have waited on Gran, taken care of Matthew, put both of them to bed and then cleaned up the kitchen. And all done with a smile on your face.”
“I like to help people.” She figured there was a lot more she could tell him. How she’d disappointed her upwardly mobile parents, who were a tad on the ruthless side, by choosing to take care of babies instead of pursuing a white-collar profession, which they thought was the only acceptable pathway. How her mother had told her after reading Alan’s letter, “I’m so ashamed of you, Karenna.”
No, best to keep those things to herself. “I figured I owed you, seeing as how you could have left me with Myron and his bear, even if I wasn’t welcome.”
“That dog does look like a bear—and acts like one, too. I couldn’t do that, even to you.” Was that a smile in his voice?
Maybe just a little one, she decided, realizing she was smiling, too. “I hate to impose, but could I borrow a blanket and a pillow?”
“What for?”
“To make my front seat a little more comfortable. I had to buy the fun car instead of being sensible and getting a sedan with a backseat.” She rolled her eyes. “What was I thinking?”
“That you wouldn’t be stuck on a country road in Alaska overnight?”
“Right. I’m mostly a stay-close-to-home kind of girl. What I’m doing here, I have no real idea. Especially since I just figured out you can’t run from what’s hurting you.”
“It comes right along with you. Yep, I learned that the hard way, too.” He felt unusually close as he cleared his throat. “About the car. I think it’s a bad idea.”
“Because of bears?”
“Because it’s not right. I changed the sheets on the bed upstairs while you were in the kitchen. There’s fresh towels in the bathroom and a few of Gran’s things folded on the dresser. Have a good night.”
“But where will you sleep?”
“The couch will suit me fine.” He brushed passed her and reached for the remote. He flipped on the late-night news and hunkered down in a recliner to watch.
“Thank you, Gage.” She thought she felt him smile again as she padded up the stairs, but the mountain man was still too much of a mystery for her to be sure.

Chapter Three
Karenna in the morning was a sight to behold. Gage nearly dropped the coffee pot when she strolled into the kitchen. Good thing the thermos was nearly full. He set the carafe back on the burner with an unsteady hand. Strange that he would react to her like that. He gave a single nod of recognition as she opened a cabinet and helped herself to a coffee cup.
“Good morning.” She appeared as if she meant it, for her too-big and impossibly blue eyes were sparkling. She looked as cute as could be, even with her golden hair damp from a shower, and she was wearing a pair of his old gray sweats. She looked like one of those cheerful morning people. “I hope you slept well? I kept worrying that you weren’t comfortable on the couch.”
“I noticed you were up several times during the night when Matthew cried.”
“I took his crib monitor from Jean’s room when she wasn’t looking. I figured she could use a full night’s sleep.” She sidled next to him at the counter and whisked the coffeepot off the burner. “Playing nanny for a bit was the least I could do in exchange for your hospitality.”
“That’s decent of you.” He twisted the cap on his thermos tight.
“Back at you.” She poured a cup of coffee. “You look as if you’re about to head out the door. Where do you work?”
“I’m a guide for a local tour company.”
“The one in the magazine?”
“Yes, and don’t give me that look.”
“What look?” She pulled the carton of milk out of the fridge and stirred a thin stream into her coffee.
“The one that promises all of Alaska’s Treasures tour guides are handsome, eligible bachelors. Obviously, they didn’t include me in the article.”
“Obviously.”
Sure, she was beautiful. She was cute and captivating, wholesome and charming. Now that she wasn’t in a wedding gown, he didn’t feel nearly as defensive around her. But that didn’t mean he intended to like her.
“If they had, then women like you wouldn’t be flocking into town—”
“Excuse me. Women like me?” She arched a brow at him. The look on her face said, no longer wholesome. She’d morphed into the tire kicker, the woman who’d been all steamed up when he’d first come across her, stranded in the dark. She arrowed the full force of her gaze at him. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Flighty women. Women looking for advantage and opportunity.”
“Oh, so now we’re back to me being an opportunist. Tell me, what opportunity am I looking for? What advantage?”
“Hard to say when you’re in a mood like that.” Uh-oh. He’d never had a way with the ladies, and this was a flash of what had gone wrong in his marriage. He would open his mouth very clear on his opinion of things, only to be outright misunderstood. Women. Not just a mystery to him, but to the entire universe. “Let’s just say you’re not the staying type.”
“Staying type? Oh, and men are?” She shut the refrigerator door and stalked across the floor to glare up at him. “I just got left at the altar. Hello? I wasn’t the one who ran off.”
“I didn’t know that.” This wasn’t going at all the way he wanted. Panic set in, along with the fervent wish he’d gotten out the door before she’d come into the kitchen. “When I got divorced, I never figured I would have another irate woman to deal with before breakfast.”
“Guess again, buddy.” She shook her head, scattering bouncy golden locks. “I can’t think of anyone who has ever gotten me so mad so fast. You have a gift, Gage.”
“I’ve got something.” A disaster record when it came to women. Good thing he was under no illusions that he ought to try marriage again. He and women just didn’t mix. Like oil and water. Like gasoline and flame. Like dynamite and a detonator. “I’ve got to get to work. Bucky ought to be here around ten. It was real nice meeting you.”
“You don’t sound as if you mean that.”
“I don’t. Good luck, Karenna.” That he meant.
He couldn’t help the tug in his chest as he grabbed his lunch pail, his egg sandwich from the counter and his thermos. He opened the back door—didn’t know why he took one last look at her.
Maybe he sort of liked her. She was spunky and perky and had been kind to Gran and Matthew. She looked out of place in the simple country kitchen, so beautiful she hurt his eyes.
He shut the door behind him, closing down his emotions. He had no business feeling anything for her. He strode down the porch and into the morning light.

What a cantankerous man. Karenna watched Gage’s SUV trail down the driveway, the taillights growing fainter until the thick stands of cedar and fir stole him from her sight. He was too young to be truly called cantankerous—that brought to mind someone at the end of his life, embittered and thoroughly disagreeable. It’s more like Gage had a grizzled personality.
That, and he didn’t think much of women. After putting cold water and fresh grounds into the coffeemaker, she carried her cup to the round table in the sunny breakfast nook. She was a Seattle girl, raised in the Green Lake neighborhood north of the University district, where leafy trees lined pleasant streets and a short walk took her to the small city park and lake. That was her idea of nature.
Not anymore. The view outside the picture window was awe-inspiring. A lush green forest marched up the hillside as far as she could see, to the lower skirt of a mountain range. Snowcapped peaks, rugged and majestic, speared the flawless blue sky, as if the earth were trying to reach all the way to heaven. What a beautiful start to a day, gazing upon all of this. Surely, living here would make someone less cantankerous over time?
A deer and two small, spotted fawns wandered into the driveway. Such tiny, delicate creatures, peaceful and sweet. She held her breath, not daring to move as they passed by the window.
“Probably come to try to nibble at my garden.” Jean broke the silence, padding into the kitchen in her pink terry-cloth robe and scuffed yellow slippers. “Gage got it fenced up good and tight for me, but there’s no telling if the deer will stay out. They’re real inventive. Good morning, dear.”
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock.”
“Matthew had a bottle around four. He was sound asleep the last I checked.”
“He is. I just peeked in at him. Sleeping like an angel.” Jean shuffled to the coffeemaker. “I see you made fresh. Gage takes half of the pot in his work thermos.”
“I wanted to make sure there was enough for you.” Karenna pushed out of her chair. “I was thinking about breakfast. Would you like me to cook? I wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. You’re our guest.”
“Guest? More like an imposition.”
“It depends on who you are talking to.” Jean appeared amused as she stirred milk into her cup. “You saw Gage before he left?”
“Saw him, talked to him, lived to regret it.”
“You and everyone else.” Jean laughed easily, reminding Karenna of her own grandmother. “I’m not at all sure what I’m going to do about that boy.”
Boy? He was a man in his prime, wide of shoulder, brawny and strong. Karenna couldn’t imagine Gage as a boy. “Was he always that impossible?”
“You mean stubborn? Strong-willed?” Jean nodded. “Yes. He was the funniest kid. Kept me in stitches the whole time he was growing up.”
“Gage funny?” She fished a frying pan out of the lower cabinets. “You have to be talking about someone else. I don’t buy it. Not Gage.”
“He was a card. Always laughing. Always seeing the bright side of life.” Jean opened the fridge and handed over a carton of eggs. “That was before his marriage fell apart. I knew that girl wasn’t right for him. She was nice enough. She just didn’t value all the right things, Gage especially.”
“That sounds difficult.” Having some experience with that very thing sent a wave of sympathy through her. Hard to picture Gage with a smile on his face, always laughing. “He must have changed completely.”
“Ain’t that the truth. I hardly recognize him.” Jean dug through the fridge and produced a package of bacon and a pitcher of orange juice. “He’s not the same man. These days, he’s hard and cynical. I don’t think he means to be. He’s simply lost.”
“Is that why he’s living with you? He was recently divorced?” Karenna took the bacon and peeled off thick, smoky slices.
“No. I’ve been living with him for five years, going on six. This is his house. He moved back from Washington—”
“Washington State?” She nearly dropped the bacon on the counter.
“Some fancy Seattle suburb.”
She and Gage had once lived in the same city? Scary coincidence.
“That’s where Margaret had to live. Fancy was what mattered to her.” Unlike her grandson, Jean wasn’t bitter or harsh. Her lovely face crinkled with loving compassion. “I still feel so sorry for her, fighting for what could never truly make anyone happy, not in the long run. Gage was so in love with her, he wore himself out working long hours in that firm—”
“A firm?” She definitely couldn’t see that. The mountain man working in a firm? Wearing a suit and tie?
“He’s an architect. Leastways, that’s what he went to school for. Graduated top of his class and landed a real fine job.” Pride lifted Jean up. Easy to see how much she loved her grandson. “He did real good down there. But when he came home, he wasn’t the same.”
“He must have truly loved her.”
“He did.” Jean wiped at the corner of her eyes with a napkin. “I keep praying for him. I have faith that God will lead Gage back to His heart. Our Lord won’t let us down.”
“He is ever-faithful.” This she knew for sure. At twenty-five, she still had a lot to figure out, especially about love and life, but she believed. She’d felt God’s touch in her life too often to doubt. Maybe He had brought her to Alaska for a reason. Maybe there was some good she could do.
“Yes, our Lord is always here with us.” Jean reached out and squeezed Karenna’s hand. Her touch was warm and strong, a connection between two kindred spirits. “He had a plan in bringing you to us.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too. I would feel much better if my emotion-fuelled drive here was for a greater purpose, and not just another big mistake of mine.”
“You were led here. I know this is true. I can feel it.”
“Good, because I don’t want to add it to my growing pile of dumb moves.” She couldn’t help adoring Jean. It was as if they’d known each other for years. “And before you say it, yes, I’ve made a lot of major oopses. I tend to leap with both feet, then look.”
“That’s called youth.” Jean stepped back to pour the orange juice. “We all have mountains of mistakes in our life. It’s part of being human. Now turn the bacon, dear, before it starts to burn.”

Not one of his better days. Gage rubbed at the tension headache settling deep in his right temple, opened the back door and strode into the tour office. A lot of desks were empty—most of the guides were out giving tours—but not him. No, he’d received a search-and-rescue call a second before he’d walked in the door early this morning.
A pair of hikers missing overnight, which turned out to be two women from South Beach, Florida, who’d never been in the wilderness before, didn’t pack any of the necessary gear, and when he finally found them wandering the forest instead of staying in one place, each of them had a handful of wildflowers and ran toward him, diamonds and rubies and capped teeth gleaming in the sun. One woman called him her hero a second before proposing.
Of course, he’d swiftly turned her down and handed her over to another man on his team, Reed, his buddy and Treasure Creek’s police chief. He noticed Reed had turned down the woman’s overeager proposal, too. Wannabe brides were everywhere.
He was too smart for them. He had found out the hard way that love was a river that plunged straight off a cliff, taking the doomed with it. He stormed over to his desk, a frown brewing. He hadn’t been able to force Karenna from his mind. The image of her in his kitchen, bright as the sun, cheerful as a song, stuck with him as if it had been glued to his brainpan.
With any luck, Bucky had towed her car into town and patched up the radiator, and Karenna Digby was no longer his problem. He ignored the stack of messages the receptionist, Rachel, had placed dead center on his desk, yanked open the top drawer and dug around for a bottle of aspirin he kept on hand. He popped two without water and spotted his boss and good friend at her desk, her hair curtaining her face, intent on a phone call. Tension in her jaw and tiny lines dug into her forehead told him it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. His boots carried him forward and he arrived deskside without thinking about it.
“Yes, you’re absolutely right, Lindy.” Amy James nodded at him, while still intent on her call. “We do need a miracle.”
Lindy. There was only one Lindy in town—the owner of the boarding house. The Lindy who hadn’t been able to help him find a room in town for Karenna. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of Amy’s desk.
“Yes, of course, my great-great-grandfather’s treasure map would come in awful handy about now.” Amy folded a lock of hair behind her ear, the tension in her jaw vanishing, replaced by a hint of humor. “Too bad it’s lost for good. Sure. I’ll do the impossible and loan it to the town so we can keep the library. No problem.”
Oh. The budget crisis. He knew that Lindy was on the town council. Economic times were tough all over, but especially in Treasure Creek. Tourist dollars drove their economy, and with Ben’s death the tour company had nearly closed. It was an economic hardship that rippled outward. He knew for a fact the town was considering drastic steps, like consolidating the schools, and if things didn’t improve, they would be annexed by the county. Now it sounded like the library was in jeopardy, too.
“Thanks, Lindy.” Amy hung up the phone.
“Trouble?” he asked.
“Something like that. Lindy was just calling to update me on the last town meeting and to book tours for some of her boarders.” Amy grinned up at him. “I just made over a dozen bookings. Guess what? All of them are women.”
“New to town?” he hazarded a guess.
“Exactly. Word is, they all want to meet handsome guides. They are specifically requesting the rive raft rides they read about in the magazine.” Her eyes twinkled.
“This is all your fault. I’m blaming you. It’s because of you all these women are here.”
“It’s good for our town, I have to admit, but things didn’t turn out like I expected.”
“Then again, what does?”
“Exactly. You know I wrote a letter to an outdoor magazine, hoping to drum up interest in our tour business. I couldn’t stand to see this business my Ben built fail. The town needed the jobs. This company is the major employer in the area. I was only trying to help.”
He understood. It destroyed him, too, to see the town failing and the people he’d known all of his life struggling. Amy was even more attached to this place because her great-great-grandfather, Mack Tanner, had founded the historic gold rush town and played an integral part in its success. Word was, Tanner had buried a fortune along the Chilkoot Trail, but no one had ever found it.
He’d read the original letter, so he knew exactly how well-intentioned her letter had been. The proposals and offers of help she’d received after Ben’s loss touched her deeply, and she’d written about the fine men who had tried to take care of her. She could have tried to promote her company, but it had been her employees and the men of this town she’d lauded. How that caring letter had wound up on an editor’s desk at a glossy women’s magazine in New York City was anyone’s guess. But there was no doubt the Now Woman magazine article had made quite a splash. The area was full of tourists—women, to be specific—who were staying in hotels, eating in local restaurants and spending money in the town shops. The good Lord surely worked in mysterious ways.
“I think we can both agree you helped. Maybe all this business will be enough to save the tour company and help with the town’s deficit.”
“It’s hard to tell if this is a phase or a lasting thing. We can’t count on it being permanent, but we can do our best to give these ladies the best tours we can.” Amy pushed a schedule sheet his way. “You are booked solid for tomorrow’s Gentle Waters River Rafting tour.”
He glared at the list. All women. He wasn’t enthused. “Yippee.”
“Gage, you crack me up.” Amy chuckled, shaking her head. “Why are you here anyway? I take it you found the missing hikers?”
“That’s an affirmative.”
“You don’t seem happy. Do I dare ask what happened?”
“You know what happened. One of them tried to entrap me in the chains of marriage. When I sidestepped, she went after Reed.”
“Reed?” The amusement slipped from Amy’s face. That always happened whenever Reed’s name was mentioned.
Not his business, but personally, he thought there was something between the two of them. Not that either of them knew it yet.
“Thanks for finding a sub for my morning’s tour.” He pushed away from her desk. “I appreciate it.”
“That’s the drawback of having the best search-and-rescue men on staff. I’m glad everyone was found safe.”
He wasn’t the best, but he didn’t feel up to arguing with her. “Do you need anything done?”
“No. You may as well head home early. How are things going with the nanny hunt? You know, with all these ladies in town maybe some of them would be interested—”
“Don’t even say it.” The last thing he wanted to do was to entangle himself with marriage-minded women. “I’ll be in bright and early tomorrow, unless I get another emergency call.”
“You’ve been getting a lot of those lately.” She was smiling again. She knew how much it tortured him.
Not that he minded rescuing women—but to have them propose? And they hadn’t even bothered to read up on basic outdoor skills.
Take the women he’d found today—not a single survival skill between them two of them. The ending could have been very different. He gave thanks to the Lord all had ended well—except for the marriage proposal.
Now he only had one marriage-minded female on his mind, and he grabbed the phone at his desk to dial home. After a few reassurances from Gran that Karenna Digby was gone from both his life and his house, then he could hop into his truck and head home without fear. He was not going to be stuck with Karenna for another night. But the phone rang four times and the answering machine came on.
That isn’t a sign of doom, he told himself, as he hiked out the back door. Gran might be upstairs getting Matthew up from his nap. She might be outside weeding the garden. There was a long list of reasons why she didn’t pick up and why Karenna would be gone. Not that he felt ready to risk a trip home to find out, so he bypassed his truck in the lot and circled around to the sidewalk. He’d be smart and run a few errands first.
“Yo there, Gage.” Bucky looked up from behind a luxury sedan’s hood and grinned like a toothpaste commercial actor. The mechanic was twenty-six, had played quarterback on the high-school football team back in the day, and had lately taken over his dad’s garage. All-American, golden-haired, blue-eyed and square-jawed, he was exactly what women like Karenna had flocked to Treasure Creek to find.
Great. Gage couldn’t explain why that ticked him off. Just that it did. He felt lacking. Doing his best not to show it, he managed what he hoped was a pleasant smile. “Looks like you’re doing a bit of work. Did you get a chance to look at Miss Digby’s car?”
“You mean Karenna? Truth is, I’m over my head, between towing and doing repairs.” He straightened up and circled around the side of the car. He wiped his hands on a purple, grease-stained rag. “Truth be told, it took longer cuz I’m getting to meet some of the fine ladies come to town. Woo-hee, I’ve never had so much fun doin’ my job before.”
“So I see.” At least someone was enjoying the madness. “The car?”
“Karenna sure is a pretty gal. I saw her when I went to your house this morning.” Bucky lit up like the Fourth of July—sparkling eyes and beaming expectations. “Sure seems nice, too, helpin’ out your gramma with the housework. And the way that baby took to her. She’d make a real fine wife. Here’s prayin’ she stays in town so I get a chance with her.”
Hard to say why that made him see red. “What about all the other women who seem to suddenly have car trouble? You want a chance with them, too?”
“One at a time. Got to prioritize.” Bucky looked like a kid in a candy store—one that could have anything he wanted and had already made his choice.
Gage ought to be happy at getting Karenna out of his house and out of his life. So why wasn’t he?
“Can you fix her car?”
“No problem. I just need to replace the radiator. I’ve got her Fiat in one of the bays.” Bucky stuck the hand rag in his back overalls pocket. “I’ll get to it right away. Wish me luck with her.”
“Good luck.” He didn’t know what else to say as he walked on by. Couldn’t explain the lingering sadness that hit him. She was gone from his life. Good. He ought to be relieved. He was glad to see her go.
The hard knot in his chest wasn’t jealousy, he told himself as he glanced around town. The sidewalk was packed and he had to dodge women as he made a beeline for the general store. Bucky was perfect for Karenna. They were both as idealistic as could be, and that woman was trouble, sure as shootin’.
And to make things worse, he’d been unable to stop thinking about her most of the day. The image of Karenna in his kitchen last night, beautiful in spite of the torn and stained gown, haunted him. She made an incredible bride, but she was naïve and unrealistic. He wished he had told her more about what had happened to his marriage. Maybe she could have used a word of warning.
Now it was too late. She was gone. No reason to see her again, and it wasn’t as if he intended to look her up. He knew from firsthand experience what was going to happen to her. After she hooked herself another groom—maybe even Bucky—she would surely get hurt, and the light would dim from her beautiful spirit for good. If she didn’t know about the plunging off the cliff part of marriage, then she would learn the hard way, just like he did.
Gage stalked around a group of women chattering excitedly over a window display, and blinked at the sight of a familiar woman sitting on a bench. He froze, completely stunned, as Karenna Digby spotted him, tossed him a brilliant smile and rose from the bench with Matthew gurgling in her arms. What was she doing with the boy?

Chapter Four
Karenna saw the big, powerful man wade through the crowd on the sidewalk like he was marching through a river with confidence and steel. His gaze on her didn’t waver. A few women definitely threw him interested looks, but he didn’t notice. Although the bright sun washed over him, he could be walking in shadows.
A few paces brought him close enough for her to see the banked fire in his eyes and the tension snapping in the muscles of his jaw. Matthew squirmed in her arms, burying more deeply against her. She realized, as Gage skidded to an imposing stop in front of her, that the fire wasn’t anger but concern for the child.
“I told your grandmother to go to her church meeting,” she explained, gently patting Matthew’s little back. “She confessed she’d been missing her friends and the fellowship, so I’m doing some shopping, and Matthew, the gentleman that he is, has agreed to accompany me.”
A muscle jumped along Gage’s right temple. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam coming out of his ears. His gaze fell to the bench where a few shopping bags sat waiting for her. He probably had some preconceived notion about women who shopped.
“Gran left you alone with the baby?” He bit it out, bulking up like a bear in a rage.
“Why shouldn’t she? I’m a licensed day-care worker, not in the state of Alaska, but still, I’m more than capable.” The baby cooed, his fists clinging to her T-shirt, holding on.
Poor little guy. She gently tugged one plump baby fist free and gave his knuckles a raspberry kiss, earning a bubbly grin and a shout of glee. Matthew tried to keep her captive with his gaze.
She tweaked his nose playfully, earning an ear-to-ear smile, before turning her attention to the glowering man who didn’t look happy at all.
“What? Jean appreciated the offer. She hasn’t been able to enjoy her friends and church activities as much since Matthew came to stay.” She was not intimidated by the mountain man, and now that she knew what to look for, she could see the hurt. That was the reason for the barrier he kept up between people, and the way he pushed at her to keep a safe distance between them.

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