Klondike Hero

“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—”