would be damn lucky to have her,” he said fiercely.
“Aha!” Christian’s laugh was triumphant. “So that’s the way it is!”
“How much longer do you plan to be in Seattle?” Sawyer asked, ignoring his brother’s comment. A comment that was doubly irritating because it echoed one made by Ben the very day of Abbey’s arrival.
“I don’t know,” Christian muttered. “I’ve been busy interviewing women, and I’d like to hire a couple more. I haven’t even gotten around to ordering the supplies and plane parts. While I’m here, I thought I’d take a side trip up to see Mom. She’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”
“Fine, go see Mom.”
“By the way, Allison Reynolds decided she wanted the position, after all. Take my advice, big brother, and don’t get all excited over this librarian until you meet our new secretary,” Christian said. “One look at her’ll knock your socks off.”
“What about a health-care specialist?”
“I’ve talked to a few nurses, but nothing yet. Give me time.”
“Time!” Sawyer snapped. “It isn’t supposed to take this long.”
“What’s your hurry?” Christian asked, and then chuckled. An evil sound, Sawyer thought sourly. “The longer I’m gone, the closer your librarian friend will be.” Laughter echoed on the line. “I love it. You were against the idea from the beginning—and now look at you.”
“I’m still against it.”
“But not nearly as much as you were before you met Abbey Sutherland. Isn’t that right?”
Abbey stood in front of the lone store in town, popularly known as the mercantile. It was decorated in a style she was coming to think of as Alaskan Bush—a pair of moose antlers adorned the doorway. She walked inside with a list of things she needed. The supplies she’d been given when she got to Hard Luck were gone. She also craved some fresh produce, but was afraid to find out what that would cost.
A bell over the door jangled, announcing her arrival.
The mercantile was smaller than the food mart where she bought gas back in Seattle. The entire grocery consisted of three narrow aisles and a couple of upright freezers with price lists posted on the door. A glass counter in front of the antiquecash register displayed candy and both Inupiat and Athabascan craft items.
A middle-aged man with a gray beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail stepped out from behind the curtain. He smiled happily when he saw her. “Abbey Sutherland, right?”
“Right. Have we met?”
“Only in passing.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Pete Livengood. I own the store and I have a little tourist business on the side.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, smiling back, wondering how much tourist trade he got in Hard Luck. “I want to pick up a few things for dinner this evening.”
“Great. Let me have a look at your list and I’ll see what I can do.”
Abbey watched as he scanned the sheet of paper. “We don’t sell fresh vegetables here since most folks have their own summer gardens. Every now and then Sawyer brings me back something from Fairbanks, but it’s rare. Wintertime’s a different story, though.”
“I see.” Abbey had hoped to serve taco salad that evening. She knew the kids would be disappointed.
“Louise Gold’s got plenty of lettuce in her garden. She was bragging about it just the other day. I suspect she’d be delighted if you’d take some of it off her hands.”
“I couldn’t ask her.” Abbey had only met Ronny’s mother briefly. The Gold family had been very kind, and she didn’t want to impose on their generosity any more than she already had.
“Things are different in the Arctic,” Pete explained. “Folks help one another. If Louise knew you wanted lettuce for yourdinner and she had more than she needed, why, she’d be insulted if you didn’t ask. Most folks order their food supplies a year at a time. I’ll give you an order form. Louise can probably help you with it
“Aha!” Christian’s laugh was triumphant. “So that’s the way it is!”
“How much longer do you plan to be in Seattle?” Sawyer asked, ignoring his brother’s comment. A comment that was doubly irritating because it echoed one made by Ben the very day of Abbey’s arrival.
“I don’t know,” Christian muttered. “I’ve been busy interviewing women, and I’d like to hire a couple more. I haven’t even gotten around to ordering the supplies and plane parts. While I’m here, I thought I’d take a side trip up to see Mom. She’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”
“Fine, go see Mom.”
“By the way, Allison Reynolds decided she wanted the position, after all. Take my advice, big brother, and don’t get all excited over this librarian until you meet our new secretary,” Christian said. “One look at her’ll knock your socks off.”
“What about a health-care specialist?”
“I’ve talked to a few nurses, but nothing yet. Give me time.”
“Time!” Sawyer snapped. “It isn’t supposed to take this long.”
“What’s your hurry?” Christian asked, and then chuckled. An evil sound, Sawyer thought sourly. “The longer I’m gone, the closer your librarian friend will be.” Laughter echoed on the line. “I love it. You were against the idea from the beginning—and now look at you.”
“I’m still against it.”
“But not nearly as much as you were before you met Abbey Sutherland. Isn’t that right?”
Abbey stood in front of the lone store in town, popularly known as the mercantile. It was decorated in a style she was coming to think of as Alaskan Bush—a pair of moose antlers adorned the doorway. She walked inside with a list of things she needed. The supplies she’d been given when she got to Hard Luck were gone. She also craved some fresh produce, but was afraid to find out what that would cost.
A bell over the door jangled, announcing her arrival.
The mercantile was smaller than the food mart where she bought gas back in Seattle. The entire grocery consisted of three narrow aisles and a couple of upright freezers with price lists posted on the door. A glass counter in front of the antiquecash register displayed candy and both Inupiat and Athabascan craft items.
A middle-aged man with a gray beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail stepped out from behind the curtain. He smiled happily when he saw her. “Abbey Sutherland, right?”
“Right. Have we met?”
“Only in passing.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Pete Livengood. I own the store and I have a little tourist business on the side.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, smiling back, wondering how much tourist trade he got in Hard Luck. “I want to pick up a few things for dinner this evening.”
“Great. Let me have a look at your list and I’ll see what I can do.”
Abbey watched as he scanned the sheet of paper. “We don’t sell fresh vegetables here since most folks have their own summer gardens. Every now and then Sawyer brings me back something from Fairbanks, but it’s rare. Wintertime’s a different story, though.”
“I see.” Abbey had hoped to serve taco salad that evening. She knew the kids would be disappointed.
“Louise Gold’s got plenty of lettuce in her garden. She was bragging about it just the other day. I suspect she’d be delighted if you’d take some of it off her hands.”
“I couldn’t ask her.” Abbey had only met Ronny’s mother briefly. The Gold family had been very kind, and she didn’t want to impose on their generosity any more than she already had.
“Things are different in the Arctic,” Pete explained. “Folks help one another. If Louise knew you wanted lettuce for yourdinner and she had more than she needed, why, she’d be insulted if you didn’t ask. Most folks order their food supplies a year at a time. I’ll give you an order form. Louise can probably help you with it
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