Alaska Skies: Brides for Brothers / The Marriage Risk

Every woman he saw seemed to match that description, such as it was. With the exception of one.

She was probably in her early thirties. She had two kids at her side. The little girl, who couldn’t have been more than six or seven, clutched a stuffed bear. The boy, perhaps two or three years older, looked as if he needed a leash to hold him back. The kid was raring to go.

The woman wasn’t pretty, Sawyer decided, she was downright lovely. Her glossy brown hair was short and straight and fell to just below her ears. Her eyes skirted past him. He liked their warm brown color and he liked her calm manner.

He also liked the way she protectively drew her children close as she looked around. She too, it seemed, was seeking someone.

With a determined effort, Sawyer pulled his gaze away from her and scanned the crowd for Christian’s librarian.

Brown hair and cute upturned nose.

He found himself looking back at the woman with the two children. Their eyes met, and her generous mouth formed a smile. It wasn’t a shy smile or a coy one. It was open and friendly, as if she recognized him and expected him to recognize her.

Then she walked right over to him. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello.” Fearing he’d miss the woman he’d come to meet, his eyes slid past her to the people still disembarking from the plane.

“I’m Abbey Sutherland.”

Sawyer’s gaze shot back to her before dropping to the two kids.

“These are my children, Scott and Susan,” she said. “Thank you for meeting us.”

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“Your children?” Sawyer repeated.

“Yes,” Abbey said. It was easy to see the family resemblance between Sawyer and Christian O’Halloran, she thought. Both were tall and lean and rawboned. If he’d lived a hundred years earlier, he could’ve been on horseback, riding across some now-forgotten range in the Old West. Instead, he was flying over a large expanse of wilderness, from one fringe of civilization to another.

Whereas Christian had been clean-shaven, Sawyer had a beard. The dark hair suited his face. His eyes were a pale shade of gray-blue, not unlike those of a husky, Scott’s favorite dog. He wore a red-checked flannel shirt under a jacket marked with the Midnight Sons logo. She suspected he had no idea how attractive he was.

“Hi,” Scott said eagerly, looking up at Sawyer.

The pilot held out his hand and she noticed that his eyes softened as he exchanged handshakes with her son. “Pleased to meet you, Scott.”

“Alaska sure is big.”

“That it is. Hello, Susan,” Sawyer said next, holding out his hand to her daughter. The girl solemnly shook it, then glanced at Abbey and smiled, clearly delighted with this gesture of grown-up respect.

“Could we speak privately, Ms. Sutherland?” Sawyer asked. The warmth and welcome vanished from his eyes as he motioned toward the waiting area. He walked just far enough away so the children couldn’t hear him. Abbey followed, keeping a close eye on Scott and Susan.

“Christian didn’t mention that you have children,” Sawyer said without preamble.

“He didn’t ask. And there was no reference to family on the application or the agreement Christian sent me. I did think it was a bit odd not to inquire about my circumstances, considering that you’re providing housing.”

“You might’ve said something.” An accusatory look tightened his mouth.

“I didn’t get a chance,” she explained in even tones. His attitude was beginning to irritate her. “I did try, but he was busy, and I really didn’t think it would matter.”

“There’s nothing in the agreement about children.”

“I’m aware of that,” Abbey said, striving to keep the emotion out of her voice. “As I already told you, I filled out the application and answered every question, and there wasn’t a single one about dependants. Frankly, I don’t think they’re anyone’s concern but mine. I was hired as a librarian. And as long as I do my job, I—”

“That’s right, but—”

“I really can’t see that it matters whether or not I have a family to support.”

“What about your husband?”

“I’m divorced. Listen, would you mind if we discussed this another time? The children and I are exhausted. We landed in Anchorage late last night and were up early this morning to catch the connecting flight to Fairbanks. Would it be too much to ask that we wait for a more opportune moment to sort this out?”

He hesitated, then said in crisp tones, “No problem.”

The pulse in his temple throbbed visibly, and Abbey suspected that it was, in fact, very much of a problem.

“I brought the Baron,” he said, directing the three of them toward the luggage carousel. “All I can say is I hope you packed light.”

Abbey wasn’t sure how she was supposed to interpret “packed light.” Everything she and the children owned that would fit was crammed into their suitcases. Everything that hadn’t gone into their luggage had been sold, given away or handed over to a shipping company and would arrive within the month. She hoped.

“Look, Mom,” Scott said, pointing at the wall where a variety of stuffed animals were displayed. Abbey shuddered, but her son’s eyes remained fixed on the head of a huge brown bear. Its teeth were bared threateningly.

“That silly bear stuck his head right through the wall,” Sawyer joked.

Scott laughed, but Susan stared hard as if that just might be possible.

When they’d collected all the luggage, Sawyer stepped back, frowning. “You brought six suitcases.”

“Yes, I know,” Abbey said calmly. “We needed six suitcases.”

“I don’t have room for all those in the plane. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get you, two kids, the mail and the rest of the cargo inside, much less enough luggage to sink a battleship. If you’d let me know, I could’ve brought a larger plane.”

Abbey bit back a sarcastic reply. She’d tried to tell Christian about her children, but he’d been too interested in his dinner date to listen to her. She hadn’t purposely hidden anything from him or Sawyer. And, good grief, how was she supposed to know how much luggage some airplane would hold?

“Never mind,” Sawyer grumbled impatiently, “I’ll figure it out later. Let’s get going.”

Abbey would’ve liked something to eat, but it was clear Sawyer was anxious to be on his way. Fortunately Scott and Susan, unlike their mother, had gobbled down what the airline laughably called a meal.

They loaded everything into the bed of a pickup and drove around the airport to a back road, which took them to an area used by various flight service operators.

“All that stuff belongs to Mom and Susan,” Scott whispered conspiratorially as Sawyer helped him out of the cab. “They’re the ones who insisted on bringing everything.”

“Sounds just like a couple of women,” Sawyer muttered. He led them to the plane.

Abbey wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this compact dual-engine aircraft wasn’t it. She peeked inside and realized that what Sawyer had said was true. There was barely room for her, let alone the children and all their luggage.

“There’s only three seats,” she said, looking nervously at Sawyer. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to figure out that three seats wasn’t enough for four people.

“You’ll have to sit on my desk—the seat beside mine,” Sawyer instructed after climbing aboard the aircraft. “And I’ll buckle the kids together on the other seat.”