Alaska Skies: Brides for Brothers / The Marriage Risk

He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from taking her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her. Was she actually thinking of staying? Christian and the others were so starved for female companionship, they’d have promised the moon to induce women to move to Hard Luck. He didn’t excuse himself; he’d played a major role in this deception, too.

“I found the outhouse,” Susan said, holding her nose as she returned to her mother’s side. “It stinks.”

“What are we gonna do?” Scott asked, sounding desperate.

“Well,” Abbey said thoughtfully, “we’ll have to move a pair of bunk beds in here and add a couple of chairs.”

“But, Mom...”

Sawyer glanced inside the cabin and groaned inwardly.

“We’ll make it a game,” Abbey told her children with forced enthusiasm. “Like pioneers.”

“I don’t wanna play,” Susan whined.

“Maybe there’s someplace else we can rent,” Scott said, looking hopefully at Sawyer.

“There isn’t.” He hated to disappoint the boy, but he couldn’t make houses that didn’t exist appear out of the blue. He turned to Abbey, who continued to stare impassively in the direction of the cabin. He suspected she was struggling to compose herself.

“Could you show me the library now?” she finally asked. Apparently she wanted to see the whole picture before she decided. Fair enough. Sawyer hoped that once she’d had time to analyze the situation, she’d make a reasonable decision. The only reasonable decision.

They all piled back into the truck. On the drive out to the cabin all three Sutherlands had been filled with anticipation. The drive back was silent, their unhappiness almost palpable.

The urge to suggest that Abbey give up and leave was almost more than Sawyer could suppress. But he’d be tipping his hand if he so much as hinted she fly home. He’d say something eventually if need be, but he’d rather she reached that conclusion herself.

The log building designated for the library had once belonged to Sawyer’s grandfather. Adam O’Halloran had settled in the area in the early 1930s. He’d come seeking gold, but instead of finding his fortune, he’d founded a community.

Since the day they’d heard that Christian had hired a librarian, Sawyer and the other pilots had hauled over a hundred or more boxes of books from Ellen’s house, which was now Christian’s.

The original O’Halloran home consisted of three large rooms. Abbey walked inside, and once more her disappointment was evident. “I’ll need bookshelves,” she said stiffly. “You can’t store books in boxes.”

“There are several in Mother’s house. I’ll see that they’re delivered first thing tomorrow morning.”

Her gaze shot to his. “Is your mother’s house vacant?”

Sawyer knew what she was thinking. He shook his head. “Mom’s remarried and out of the state, but Christian lives there now. Although he’s away at the moment, as you know.”

“I see.”

A young boy who introduced himself as Ronny Gold walked his bicycle up to the door and peeked inside. Scott and Ronny stared at each other.

“Can you play?” Ronny asked.

“Mom, can I go outside?”

Abbey nodded. “Don’t be gone long.” She glanced at her watch. “Meet me back here in half an hour, okay?”

“Okay.” Both Scott and Susan disappeared with Ronny.

Hands buried deep in his pants pockets, Sawyer watched as Abbey lifted a book, studied the spine, then picked up another. She handled each one with gentle reverence.

Sawyer waited until he couldn’t bear it any longer. He’d planned to give her more time to realize she couldn’t possibly live under these conditions. But if she wasn’t going to admit it herself...

“It isn’t going to work, Abbey,” he said quietly. “It was a rotten idea, bringing women to Hard Luck. I blame myself. I should never have agreed to this.”

“You want me to leave, don’t you?” she asked in an ominously even voice, ignoring his comment.

Sawyer didn’t answer. He couldn’t, because he refused to lie or mislead her any further. What surprised him most was his own realization—that he’d have liked the opportunity to know her better. Instead, he was forced to send her back to Seattle, where she and her children belonged.

He steeled himself. He and Christian weren’t the only ones at fault.

“You misled my brother,” he said gruffly and couldn’t decide who he was angriest with. Christian? Abbey? Himself?

“I misled Christian?” Abbey cried, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I find that insulting.”

The anger that had simmered just below the surface flared to life. “You duped him into hiring you without once mentioning that you had children!” Sawyer snapped. “I know there was nothing on the application about a family.” That was one problem he was going to correct at the first opportunity. “But you should’ve been more honest, since you were aware that we offered housing as part of the employment package.”

“I should’ve been more honest? That’s the height of hypocrisy! I was told I’d be given living quarters and twenty acres of land, but you neglected to tell me the cabin’s the size of a doghouse.” She dragged in a deep breath. “How dare you suggest I broke the agreement? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You broke the spirit of our agreement.”

“Oh, please! As for your free land, that’s a big joke, too. You forgot to mention that it’s so far from town I’d need a dogsled to reach it. If you want to talk about someone breaking the agreement, then let’s discuss what you and your brother have done to me and my children.”

At the pain in her eyes, he felt worse than ever. He had no defense, and he knew it. “All right. We made a mistake, but I’m willing to pay your airfare home. It’s the least we can do.”

“I’m staying,” she said flatly. “I signed a contract, and I intend to hold up my end of the bargain, despite...despite everything.”

Sawyer couldn’t believe his ears. “You can’t!”

Her eyes flashed. “Why can’t I?”

“You saw the cabin yourself. There’s no way the three of you could possibly live there, bunk beds or not. You might be able to manage this summer, but it’d be out of the question once winter sets in.”

“The children and I are staying.” She said this with such determination Sawyer could readily see that nothing he said or did would change her mind.

“Fine,” he said brusquely. “If that’s your decision.” At best, he figured she’d last the night. By morning she’d be at the airfield with her luggage, anxious to catch the first plane out of Hard Luck.

* * *

An hour later Abbey sat on the edge of the thin mattress and tried to think. She hadn’t felt so close to tears since the day she’d filed for divorce. In some ways, the situation felt very similar to the end of her marriage. She was being forced to admit she’d made a mistake. Another in what seemed to be a very long list.

It hadn’t felt like a mistake when she’d accepted the job. It had felt decidedly right.

The problem was that she didn’t want to leave Hard Luck. She’d painted a fairy-tale picture of the town in her mind, and when it fell short of her expectations she’d floundered in disappointment. Well, she’d been disappointed before and learned from the experience. She would again.

No matter how eager Sawyer O’Halloran was to be rid of her, she was staying.

Really, she had no one to blame but herself. Her father had told her the free cabin and twenty acres sounded too good to be true. She was willing to concede that he was right. But it wasn’t just the promise of a home and land that had drawn her north.