Endless Night. Dana Mentink
He knew she could never love him again, but he wanted desperately to bring back to life the warm and ebullient woman she had been, the woman who sang Broadway show tunes at every opportunity and cried at the sight of an injured animal. “Jackie, I…” Words failed him.
She looked at him, waiting for him to finish. When he didn’t, she let out a little sigh and steered them back onto safe ground. “I forgot how dark it gets here.”
“Sure does.”
She shivered and he offered her a blanket. She took it and he helped her tuck it in around her shoulders, his fingers tingling where they accidentally brushed against hers. She started to say something, then stopped. They sank into heavy silence.
The distance that grew between them in that moment might have been wider than the sprawling Alaskan wilderness. A twist of pain lanced through him as he recalled bittersweet memories.
Oddly it was a moment in San Francisco that crystallized his future in Alaska. He’d had to content himself with Jackie’s periodic visits, until her father had a stroke that left him unable to travel. Roman had hoarded every last penny and flown to San Francisco to see her that year. On one fog-shrouded night, she’d said the words that made him sure their lives would be intertwined forever. “I feel like Alaska is my real home,” she’d said. That’s when he’d decided to ask her to marry him as soon as her father was well. He’d flown home and begun counting the days until her return.
Thinking about the joy he’d felt numbed him inside
It seemed like an eternity before Skip appeared to retrieve Jackie and they motored across the snow. When the sound of the snowmobile engine died away, Roman radioed Wayne and calmly accepted a vigorous tongue-lashing.
Before he bunked in for the night, Roman ventured once more into the ink-dark night. The sight never failed to take his breath away. A cathedral of achingly brilliant stars shone between the clouds without the interference of city lights. He felt as if he could reach up and touch one of the dazzling gems.
Wish on a star, his mother had told him when he was a boy.
As the cold closed in around him he knew that there was no point in childish wishing. What his heart had once desired might as well be as far away as those perfect stars. Worst of all, he was grateful for the distance.
THREE
Jackie’s mind raced as she and Skip headed back to the lodge. She fought against shivers that had started the moment she had sat next to Roman in that cockpit. His nearness had unnerved her. She flashed back to her impulsive brother, riding off a snowy ridge and cracking his collarbone. He’d had his arm in a sling just before the accident that had taken his life. Ironic that it had been Roman at the wheel that night, not her reckless brother. Remember that, Jackie. She swallowed hard as Skip parked the snowmobile and they made their way toward the comfortable living room of the Delucchi Lodge.
Fallon sat on a couch, still wearing her jacket. Jackie could tell by the stiff set of her shoulders that the girl was upset. Jackie remembered Fallon as a moody teen, smitten with her handsome brother, but hadn’t there been something else? At the end, before Jackie’s brother died, there had been some anger, some unusual explosiveness in the girl. At the time, she’d attributed it to teen angst, but now as she looked at her, she wondered if she had missed something.
“Oh, sweetie,” June said, entering the room. She smiled at Jackie before catching her daughter’s hands. “I still can’t believe you were out there all alone. That gives me goose bumps.”
Fallon pulled her hands away. “I’ve already told you I’m fine, Mom. You don’t have to get all crazy about it again.”
June shot Jackie a rueful look and left when a timer sounded in the kitchen.
After repelling any attempts at conversation, Fallon sat on the couch, water droplets sparkling on her straight brown hair. She kept her gaze fastened to the window. Sounds of June washing dishes floated into the cozy space over the crackle of a fire in the old stone hearth. In the adjoining room, a newly married couple sipped from mugs as they cuddled together on a love seat with reindeer-horn armrests. Skip was tending to the snowmobiles and somewhere, out in the endless night, was Roman.
Roman. Even his name brought to life a storm of emotion inside her. It was no longer the feeling she’d nursed since she was a teen, the all-consuming love for him that grew every time she came to stay. Now it had changed into something else, twisted by anger, misshapen by grief, but still with an undercurrent of longing that she could not explain. With a sigh, she rose to warm her hands by the fire.
Fallon’s voice startled her. “Was your dad here when they built this place?”
“The lodge? No. Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered who helped, is all. I heard they hired some people who were in town for the summer to build the cabins. Gave them room and board and some stayed on awhile after to be on staff here. I wasn’t born then.”
Jackie looked at her quizzically. “I’m sure they did. When we came the first time, it was just your parents and a housekeeper, Dax and another man, I think.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to blaze with reflected firelight. “So why did you come back now?”
Jackie kept her tone light. “I needed to get away.”
“From what?”
She looked at the fire. “Things at work were stressful. I wanted a change of scenery.”
“That’s weird.”
“What?”
“That you’d come back here, after two years. To the place where Danny died. And seeing Roman and all. That must be weird, too.”
Jackie swallowed. You have no idea. Weirdest of all was the way she couldn’t seem to get Roman out of her mind. His face, his voice, the golden green of his eyes. “I didn’t know he’d be here. I figured he’d left to join the air force, like he’d always talked about.”
“I guess people don’t always do what you think they will.”
Jackie turned to face her, trying to read the expression in the girl’s face. “Is something wrong, Fallon?”
She chewed at a fingernail. “No.”
She intended to press her further when Skip came in, eyeing them nervously.
“Getting reacquainted?” He sat down next to his daughter. “You really had us concerned there, kitten.”
Fallon turned her face away. “I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. We just worry, that’s all. Alaska’s a pretty big place.”
“Not big enough,” Fallon muttered before jumping off the sofa and leaving the room.
Skip gave Jackie a tired smile. “And I thought the hard part was when she was a toddler, sticking her fingers in light sockets. That was a walk in the park compared to this teen thing.”
June reappeared with steaming mugs of cocoa and Byron Lloyd at her elbow.
“Daughter okay?” Lloyd asked, his full cheeks pink over the collar of his jacket.
“Yes, she’s fine,” Skip said. “How did you know she was missing?”
He chuckled and pointed to Jackie. “Heard people calling her name. Saw this young lady scurry off and heard the snowmobile engines. Saw Mrs. Delucchi all worried. I put two and two together.”
Jackie looked at him closely. He’d been watching her, all right—following her every move.
He stared back at her. “You look pretty comfortable on a snowmobile. Must have put in some time on one when you visited here before.”
“Some,” she said. “You know, I’m really tired. Jet-lagged. I think I’ll go back to my cabin now.”
Skip