Endless Night. Dana Mentink
of what he’d had, and what he’d lost. It was too much. Picking up his plate, he made an excuse and stood up.
“What’s the matter, man?” Lloyd boomed. “A strapping fellow like you can’t live on two bites of breakfast.”
“I’ve got a…” Roman’s words were lost in a crash and shout from outside. He put his plate back on the table and ran out the front entrance, right behind Skip and June Delucchi, who had emerged from the kitchen. Jackie, Lloyd and a few other guests jogged out after them.
An overturned snowmobile lay on its side, engine sputtering. Nearby a groaning man clapped a hand to his leg. Dax, a handyman for the lodge, knelt next to the injured man. Skip ran to them.
“What’s happened?”
Dax shook his head. “Reg hit a rock or something, maybe a buried tree limb. Snowmobile went over and I think he busted his ankle.”
The man on the ground moaned. “Not busted, just sprained.”
Roman hid a smile. Typical Alaska toughness. “Looks like there’s some swelling. You need an X-ray, at least.”
Talking over the grumbling from the stricken man, Skip and Dax made arrangements for Dax to drive to the nearest clinic. Reg was gingerly loaded onto a truck and sent off, in spite of his loud protests.
Roman looked at Skip and June. They’d moved away a piece and were having a serious conversation. He noticed June wiping away tears before she headed back to the lodge with the curious guests.
Jackie remained.
Roman put a hand on Skip’s arm. “What can I do to help?”
Skip waved him off. “Nothing. You’ve already got more cargo to fly in for us.”
“Not until later. I can help here.” He gestured to the front loader. “I can fill some blocks while you go get the tape to mark it. We can find someone to stomp it down.”
Skip shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
Roman headed toward the front loader. “You don’t have to.”
Skip gave him a grateful smile and left.
Before he started the engine, Roman looked up in surprise to find Jackie climbing the ladder perched against the wooden form farthest away from him.
“You don’t have to do that, Jackie,” he called. “I don’t need help.”
She looked up only for a moment. “Skip does,” she yelled back.
That’s right, Roman. She doesn’t care about you anymore. That’s the way it will always be. Get that through your thick head. His head already knew—it was his heart that needed convincing, he thought grimly, even after two long years.
Roman turned his attention to the front loader, fired the engine to life and began scooping up piles of snow and dumping them into the ten-foot wooden forms that would mold it into perfect blocks for sculpting. When one was relatively full, Jackie would climb up and stomp it all down before he added another load. When the snow was uncrated it would create perfect ten-foot-by-ten-foot squares. They kept at it. He could see the fatigue in her body, the tired droop to her head, yet she worked without complaint until June caught his eye from the front porch and gestured for them to come in for lunch.
Roman killed the motor and jumped down from the front loader. His hands were stiff. They’d filled only eleven of the boxes completely—still another five to go. He made his way over to Jackie, who had not seen June’s summons. She was busily stomping down snow with a vengeance.
“Jackie? Lunch-break command from Mrs. D.”
She nodded and began to climb down the ladder. As she did so, the ladder pitched loose from the side of the box and wobbled, causing her to lose her footing. Jackie slipped, maintaining her grip on the ladder with only one hand, until she fell.
There wasn’t time to think about it. Roman caught her as they tumbled to the ground. She landed next to him, eyes wide, lips parted in shock. The feel of her small frame against his side, the softness of her hair tickling his chin drowned him in memory for a moment. He could have imagined it, but for the briefest second he felt her lean her head against his shoulder.
With a sudden movement she scrambled to her feet. Roman did the same. Jackie turned to face him, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Thanks…I, I must be tired to fall off a ladder.”
He shrugged, hoping she could not read his feelings on his face. “You’ve been working hard. No harm done.”
Jackie giggled. “Sorry, but you’ve got a clump of snow stuck right to the top of your head.”
He held still while she reached out and brushed the snow off his hair.
He flushed and let her finish.
“Thanks again, for the soft landing.” She turned and started toward the lodge, pulling her gloves off and unzipping her pocket to put them inside. As she did so something small and metallic spiraled down. Jackie started frantically, twirling around, peering at the snow-covered ground to find the item. Her face was stark, body tense.
Roman joined her in the search. “What fell?”
“Nothing. Nothing important.”
The lie was obvious in her increasing panic. He bent over to squint at the harshly glittering snow until he saw the item and picked it up. He didn’t get time to look closely, as she snatched it from his fingers.
“Thanks. That’s it. Um, thank you. Thanks again.” Without a word of explanation, she jogged toward the building, leaving him to wonder.
Whatever was on that thumb drive, she acted like it was a matter of life and death.
FIVE
She couldn’t get over the fear that had enveloped her when she’d dropped the thumb drive. And Roman—what had he thought when he retrieved it for her? She could still feel his big hands on her waist, trying to catch her as she fell. Those hands had comforted her through her entire youth, it seemed. For a split second she wished with every pore of her body that things had been different.
She made her way to her room with a tray of food provided by June and shot an uneasy glance at the sky, a brilliant blue that seemed to shimmer with intensity. She’d heard one of the kitchen staff mention that a blizzard was in the forecast, but she hoped it wasn’t true. Skip was counting on a successful snow-sculpture weekend, and she prayed he would get it.
Cresting the small ridge to her cabin, she was startled to see two people making their way in the deep snow off the path. The snowshoes strapped to their feet gave them a comical gait. It was Byron Lloyd and a smaller figure who it took her a moment to identify. Fallon. They both waved.
Jackie watched Fallon for a moment. The girl’s face was thrown back in laughter. She was a young woman, no longer a child, but there was still plenty of the girl showing through. Jackie’s heart squeezed, thinking about how much Danny’s death must have hurt Fallon. Jackie had been so wrapped in her own grief and anger, she hadn’t given much thought to Fallon’s.
Shaking her head to clear it, she unlocked the door to her cabin. Her stomach clenched as she stuck the key in and found the door already unlocked. As it swung open, all of her plans were forgotten. She screamed.
Skip made it to her cabin first, still holding a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, but Roman was close behind. Jackie stood immobile in the center of the room, surveying the damage around her. The contents of her bag were scattered over the bed, shirts, socks and pants draping the coverlet. The bathroom medicine cabinet was open and her few toiletries in disarray.
Skip swallowed the bite he’d been chewing. “What in the world?”
Roman moved closer and spoke softly. “Someone was looking for something. Anything taken that you can tell?”
Her