Northern Encounter. JENNIFER LABRECQUE
Luckily the two-way radio chose that moment to crackle to life.
She gave the transmission a go ahead and then couldn’t believe what she heard. Dalton and Bull stared open-mouthed. She asked for a repeat. Nope they’d all heard right. Despite the impending storm, a plane was enroute from Anchorage, requesting permission to land at Good Riddance. Someone was in for a rough ride. And though they were booked slap-dab full at the bed and breakfast, there was no way she could refuse an incoming plane landing in light of the storm. She radioed back an affirmative.
She looked at Bull, Dalton, Clint and Tessa Bellingham.
Bull quirked a speculative eyebrow. “Someone’s either crazy as a shithouse rat or desperate.”
“Maybe both. I hope whoever is flying that plane charged double—” Dalton glanced out the window at the wind kicking up a dust storm of snow “—make that triple.”
“It’s Durden,” Merrilee said, identifying the pilot by the information in the landing request.
Clint nodded. “Durden’s a little bit of both. And he’ll have to stay over too.”
Dalton leaned against the edge of the desk. “Yep. Nobody will be flying out in this tonight.”
Merrilee forced a smile. “Good thing we keep extra sleeping bags on hand.” She glanced over at Bull. “And if need be I can bunk over at your place.”
“Anytime. All the time,” he said. She and Bull had always maintained separate residences. It just seemed to work better that way even though she knew he wished they shared the same roof all the time. He’d asked her to marry him more times than she could shake a stick at.
Bull was a good man. Even though she’d fallen for him hard the first time she’d met him, she’d spent the next several years waiting to discover that beneath it all, he was a jerk, that ultimately he’d let her down. Twenty-five years later, she’d finally accepted he wouldn’t let her down. Far from being a jerk, he’d proved himself a man of integrity. When Bull gave his word on something, you could count on it. In Bull’s book, a man was only as good as his word.
“Y’all might as well head on over to Gus’s and grab some dinner while I wait on these fools to show up,” Merrilee said. As much as anything, she needed some time alone. “No need in everyone being hungry.”
“I’ll bring you a plate over,” Bull said. “You hungry for anything in particular?”
“Whatever today’s special is will be fine.” She actually had no appetite but that would simply have Bull scrutinizing her more closely since she hardly ever missed a meal.
“I’ll be back in a few.”
Clint, Tessa, Dalton and Bull used the pass-thru door, giving her a few minutes alone.
Merrilee gnawed at the inside of her cheek. Sometimes when the truth went untold, the longer it lay there the deeper it became buried.
But now the skeletons in Merrilee’s closet were beginning to rattle and she didn’t like it a bit. Not even a little.
Tessa looked around her, drawn in by all of the noise, scents and general good fun. They’d walked through the adjoining doors between the airfield and the eatery and Tessa instantly loved it. She was totally digging the old-fashioned bar, complete with brass footstand, lined with an assortment of customers, most of them rugged and a bit rough around the edges. Booths and tables fought for floor space with pool tables, a small stage and a dart board. It was somewhere between a throw-down bar and an upscale diner which meant it defied definition. That made her like it all the more. Uniqueness drew her like nothing else did.
Dean Martin crooned over a speaker system and the smells coming from the kitchen were heavenly.
Tessa was terrible at guessing ages, but a woman who appeared to be in her mid to late-twenties approached, a welcoming smile on her face. With her dark hair accented by one bold streak of white in front, she wasn’t so much pretty as she was striking. She extended a hand, “Hi. Welcome, I’m Gus.”
Tessa took the woman’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Tessa Bellingham.” Gus had a nice, firm handshake. “It smells great in here.” Tessa smiled. “I’m suddenly very aware that lunch was a long time ago.” As if to lend credence to her words, her stomach issued a loud growl.
Everyone laughed and Gus said, “So it seems. We’ll fix you right up. With the storm coming in we’re pretty crowded tonight. Do you mind sharing a table? Skye and Nelson have a big table over near the pool tables.”
Skye was the name of Dalton Saunders’s fiancée. Tessa would like to meet her. “Table sharing is fine with me. The more the merrier.”
Bull spoke up. “Gus, how about you put together two plates of today’s special for me and Merrilee. She’s waiting on some idiot to fly in before this storm really hits. I’ll keep her company while she’s manning the airstrip.”
“Give us a second and we can pull that together for you,” Gus said. She turned back to the rest of them. “I’ll send Teddy over to take your orders.”
Gus bustled off in the direction of the open kitchen that overlooked the bar area and dining room. Dalton led the way through the dining room tables, with Clint bringing up the rear. Oddly enough, Tessa was infinitely more aware of Clint behind her than all of the other people in the room. It was as if she was tuned into his energy.
They reached the table and Dalton kissed a pretty woman—his fiancée, Tessa guessed—with pale freckled skin, brilliant blue eyes and striking curly red hair. Skye Shanahan and Dalton Saunders made a cute couple.
The man sitting at the table with Skye had long, black hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his high cheekbones and skin tone indicated he was a native. Skye introduced him to Tessa as Nelson Sisnuket, Clint’s cousin and Skye’s assistant. Both Skye and Nelson made Tessa feel welcome and comfortable.
Skye smiled at Tessa across the table. “Unless you have issues with meat or wild game, you really should try the moose ragout. It’s great.”
Tessa nodded. “The moose ragout it is, then. When I’m someplace new, I like to try the local dishes.”
Nelson laughed. “That’s about as local as you can get. And the moose is fresh.” He shot Skye a teasing look. “It was just delivered yesterday.”
A flush of red crawled up Skye’s neck and face. Dalton chuckled. Clint offered a slow smile that sent a shiver down her spine.
“The moose came from a fellow who trespassed on Dalton’s property,” Nelson said, “and worse, he tried to poach Skye, as well. He offered the moose as restitution and Dalton had him send it to Gus.”
Dalton grinned and shrugged. “Hey, we eat here often enough. I don’t cook, and well, let’s just say we’re better off with Gus cooking the moose than Skye.”
“Watch it, buddy,” Skye said with a laugh.
“So, he was going to give you a moose?” Tessa was still stuck on that bit.
Skye rolled her eyes. “I thought it was really weird at first too. Frighteningly, you soon get used to the way things are done in Good Riddance. The town has a way of winding its way into your heart.”
“I thought it was me,” Dalton said. “Now you’re telling me it’s really just the town you came back for.”
The teasing interplay between the couple was fun and stirred a longing inside Tessa. It made her all the more conscious of Clint, who was sitting to her right.
Nelson shook his head in Tessa’s direction. “Good Riddance can have that effect on some people. Gus came four years ago and never did go back to New York.”
“Gus is the best thing that ever happened to Good Riddance,” Dalton said.
“You are so sleeping on the couch tonight,” Skye said.
“Sorry,