Northern Encounter. JENNIFER LABRECQUE
a car accident had claimed both of Tessa’s parents when she was in second grade. When the older couple died within a few months of each other after her nineteenth birthday, the house had become hers. She’d always had a roof over her head but there’d been something inherently painful around family holidays.
She came and went as she pleased and answered to no one. Even though she’d grown up in Tucson, she’d never had a true sense of belonging. She’d decided to deem herself a child of the planet, which is what made her so good at finding and videotaping waterfalls and beaches and places that some people would never be lucky enough to see in person. But the holidays … definitely not her favorite time. Oh, sure, Val, who had lived two doors down and become her best friend, and her family always invited her over for Thanksgiving or Christmas but somehow that felt intrusive to her.
However, the notion of the whole town gathering to celebrate intrigued her.
“The whole town really gets together?”
“Well, those who want to. The biggest problem is finding room for everyone, but we manage. This time next year our new community center will be ready. In fact, it should be finished next month. Too bad you’re not going to be here then. Of course, listen to me, you probably already have plans.” Yep, Tessa had plans. She’d be ordering take-out and editing the footage she’d shot while she was here. Merrilee charged on. “How about a cup of coffee or some hot tea? Or Gus’s bar is next door if you need something stronger.”
Tessa returned the other woman’s smile. “Thanks but something stronger would knock me right out. Hot tea would be lovely.”
Dalton finished his coffee and looked at Clint. “That mutt of yours ready to work? Clive’s generator came in. And with the storm coming in he may need it. It’s sitting on the back of the plane.”
Clint grinned and Tessa was totally unprepared for the sheer impact. He looked over at the dog and said, “Work, Kobuk?”
The dog lit up. Tessa could’ve sworn he offered a canine smile. He shot to his feet and pranced around the room.
“My mutt’s ready,” Clint said with another of those lethal grins.
“Can you lend a hand, Bull?” Dalton asked.
“No problem.”
Clint paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at Tessa. His endlessly dark eyes sent a shiver through her. “We’ll go over the week’s plan when I get back. This shouldn’t take long.”
She smiled, determined to get past his wariness. “I’ll be here.”
The three men and the dog went out into the cold and dark. Merrilee turned to her. “I don’t know how much you know about them but malamutes are a working breed. Some of the tourists passing through don’t understand it. They think it’s cruel, but that dog is happiest when he’s pulling a load on a sleigh. That’s how they’ll deliver Clive’s generator. About that tea, green or Earl Grey?”
“Earl Grey,” Tessa said, crossing to look out the window. On the airstrip, Kobuk had been strapped into traces connected to a sled. The men hauled a large generator out of the plane’s cargo hold. Even with the heavy piece of equipment they were lifting, she noted Clint moved with a deliberateness and ease. They settled the generator on the sled’s bed.
In the dark twilight outside, snow dusted Clint’s dark head. He was a beautiful man in a wholly masculine way, with high, flat cheekbones that bespoke his native heritage, a knee-weakening sensual mouth, and raven-black hair. He was unusually tall for a native and he possessed maddeningly broad shoulders that jump-started things inside her that had no business jump-starting.
Clint chose that moment to look up, his gaze tangling with hers. Even through the window with its cold draft, a sexual heat rolled through her and her thighs grew damp. She looked away, embarrassed. She had the most ridiculous notion that even from the distance, even though she’d only just met him, that Clint knew that he’d turned her on with just a look across a snowy expanse.
“Here’s your tea,” Merrilee said, handing her a delicate cup and saucer painted with violets.
“Thank you,” Tessa said, grateful for the distraction. This was an unwelcome first. In all of her travels with her job, she’d never been sexually attracted before to any of her guides. She’d have to watch herself with Clint Sisnuket. A relationship with him would be extremely unprofessional on her part.
And yet, she’d never had such an immediate response to any man. There was something different about Clint, something that instinctively drew her. She didn’t want to do anything stupid.
2
THERE WAS NOTHING sweeter than the feel of the wind and snow blowing as they moved in sync with Kobuk down the street. Clint and Dalton kept pace with the sled which was loaded with the strapped down compressor in the cargo area. Once they’d loaded up the sled, Bull had headed over to Donna’s Engine and Motor Repair to check on a snowmobile engine. Clive, who lived just at the other end of Main Street, could help with the unloading.
“You okay?” Dalton asked.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seemed a little thrown off balance back there when you saw Ms. Bellingham. Guess she wasn’t exactly what you were expecting?” Dalton grinned.
To put it lightly—hell, no, she wasn’t what he expected. “Nope. I was thinking she was a middle-aged guy but it doesn’t really matter. No worries.” Clint was a professional. Just because Tessa Bellingham possessed captivating green eyes and a full lower lip didn’t change anything. She was a client. Plain and simple.
Dalton nodded and shot Clint an unconvinced look. Clint’s father might’ve made the mistake of falling for a fair-skinned blonde but not Clint. He’d seen the heartbreak that had resulted. Hell, he’d lived the heartbreak. Thanks, but no thanks.
Dinky Monroe, who could’ve stepped straight out of a photo from the 1800s when prospectors feverishly sought that vein of Alaska gold that would make them rich, waved from the barber chair in the front window of Curl’s Taxidermy/Barber Shop/Beauty Salon and Mortuary. Clint offered a two-fingered salute in return.
Since it was off-season for hunters and there was little in the way of taxidermy work, and no one had died lately, Curl had plenty of time for shaves and hair cuts. A mortician before he’d made the move to Good Riddance, he also served as the town’s undertaker. But considering how few people lived in the area, relatively few died. Upon the occasional death, Curl set up folding chairs in a back room if a viewing was requested.
“Did you hear Dinky’s got a new wife coming in next week?” Dalton said.
Clint laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. My grandmother mentioned it at dinner the other night.” Internet brides had replaced the mail-order brides from times past.
“Your grandmother’s better than a newspaper, isn’t she?”
Clint grinned. His grandmother ran their family and pretty much the village. “My grandmother knows what’s going on, that’s for sure.” He knew without a doubt that she’d hear through the grapevine about Tessa Bellingham. Then he’d be in for one of their “talks.” The “talks” had started when Clint was seven and had been an ongoing part of his relationship with his grandmother.
The wind had picked up and the snow blew harder. Clint had to really hold Kobuk in check. As far as the dog was concerned, the cold and snow was a perk of the job.
At the other end of Main Street, they hooked a right and made quick work of delivering Clive’s generator.
“Okay, let’s get back and grab a bite to eat before it gets nasty,” Dalton said. “We’ll probably have to get a late start tomorrow depending on what the storm does.”
“No problem. We’ll work around it.” As far as Clint was concerned, the less time he spent in an isolated cabin with his client,