It was almost comical to see the smiles fall in unison, as if they were marionettes and a puppet master was working their mouths. Still, Sawyer had to admit he was beginning to warm to the idea of recruiting women. Hard Luck could do with a few new faces and he wouldn’t object if those faces happened to be young, female and pretty. Not that he was the marrying kind. No, sirree. Not Sawyer O’Halloran. Not after what he’d seen with his parents. Their unhappiness had taught him early and taught him well that marriage meant misery. Although, in his opinion, Catherine Fletcher bore a lot of the blame....
He shook his head. Marriage was definitely out, and he suspected his two brothers felt the same way. They must. Neither of them seemed inclined toward marriage, either.
He returned his attention to the dilemma at hand. No one appeared to have any answers to his question about where these women would live, and Sawyer felt obligated to point out the less-than-favorable aspects of their plan. The more he considered it, the more certain he became that this idea was impossible. Attractive, perhaps—especially in a moment of weakness—but impossible.
“It wouldn’t have worked, anyway,” he said.
“Why not?” his brother asked.
“Women are never satisfied with the status quo. They’d move to Hard Luck and immediately want to change things.” Sawyer had seen it before. “Well, I don’t want things changed. We have it good here.”
“Yeah,” Ralph agreed, but without much enthusiasm.
“Before we knew it,” Sawyer continued, “the ladies would have rings on their fingers and rings through our noses, and they’d be leading us around like...like sheep. Worse, they’d convince us that’s the way we want it.”
“Nope. Not going to happen to me,” John vowed. “Unless...”
Not giving him a chance to weaken, Sawyer went on. “We’d be making runs into Fairbanks for low-fat ice cream because one or other of them has a craving for chocolate without the calories.” Sawyer could picture it now. “They’d want us to watch our language and turn the TV off during dinner and shave every day...and...”
“You’re right,” Duke said with conviction. “A woman would probably want me to shave off my beard.”
The men grimaced as if they could already feel the razor.
Women in Hard Luck would have his pilots wrapped around their little fingers within a week, Sawyer thought. And after that, his men wouldn’t be worth a damn.
Christian hadn’t spoken for several minutes. Now he slowly rubbed his hand along his jaw. “What about the cabins?”
“The old hunting cabins your father built on the outskirts of town?” Ralph asked.
Sawyer and Christian exchanged a look. “Those are the ones,” Christian said. “Dad built them back in the fifties before the lodge was completed—you know, the lodge that burned down? Folks would fly in for hunting and fishing and he’d put them up there. They’re simple, one medium-size room without any conveniences.”
“No one’s lived in those cabins for years,” Sawyer reminded his brother.
“But they’re solid, and other than a little dirt there’s nothing wrong with them. Someone could live there. Easily.” Christian’s voice rose as he grew excited about the idea. “With a little soap and water and a few minor repairs, they’d be livable in nothing flat.”
Sawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A city gal would take one look at those cabins and leave on the next flight out. “But there isn’t any running water or electricity.”
“No,” Christian agreed, “not yet.”
Now Sawyer understood, and he didn’t like it. “I’m not putting any money into fixing up those run-down shacks.” Charles would have a fit if he let Christian talk him into doing anything so stupid.
“Those old cabins aren’t worth much, are they?” Christian asked.
Sawyer hesitated. He recognized his brother’s tone. Christian had something up his sleeve.
“No,” Sawyer admitted cautiously.
“Then it wouldn’t hurt to give the cabins away.”
“Give them away?” Sawyer echoed. It stood to reason that no one would pay for them. Who’d want them anyway, even if they were free?
“We’re going to need something to induce women to move to Hard Luck,” Christian said. “We aren’t offering them marriage.”
“Damn right we’re not.” John gulped down a slug of coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Companionship is all I’m interested in,” another of the pilots added. “Female companionship.”
“We don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking this is about marriage.”
“Exactly.”
Sawyer looked around the room at his pilots. “Marriage is what practically all women are after,” he said with more certainty than he actually felt.
“There’s plenty of jobs in the lower forty-eight,” Christian said in a perfectly reasonable tone. This was always where Sawyer ran into trouble with his younger brother. Christian could propose the most ridiculous idea in the most logical way. “True?”
“True,” Sawyer agreed warily.
“So, like I said before, we’ve got to offer these women some incentive to live and work in Hard Luck.”
“You want to give them the cabins?” Sawyer scratched his head. “As an incentive?”
“Sure. Then if they want to bring in electricity and running water they can do it with their own money.”
Sawyer checked around to see what the others were thinking. He couldn’t find a dissenting look among them. Not on Ben’s face and certainly not on any of the others. He should’ve known Christian’s idea would take root in the fertile minds of his women-starved men.
“We’d clean up the cabins a bit first,” Christian said as though this was the least they could do.
“We found a bear in one of them last year,” Sawyer reminded his brother.
“That bear didn’t mean any harm,” Ralph said confidently. “He was just having a look around, is all. I doubt he’ll be back after the shot of pepper spray Mitch gave him.”
Sawyer just shook his head, bemused.
“But it might not be smart to mention the bear to any of the women,” Ben was quick to add. “Women are funny about wild critters.”
“Yeah,” John said in hushed tones, “take my word for it—don’t say anything about the wildlife.”
“Say anything?” Sawyer asked. The men made it sound like he was going to personally interview each applicant.
“To the women when you talk to them,” Ralph explained with exaggerated patience.
“I’m going to be talking to these women?”
“Why, sure,” Duke said, as if that had been understood from the beginning. “You’ll have to interview them, you or Christian. Especially if you’re going to offer them housing when they accept a job in Hard Luck.”
“You’d better throw in some land while you’re at it,” Ben said, reaching for the coffeepot. He refilled the mugs and set the pot back on the burner. “You O’Hallorans got far more of it than you know what to do with. Offer the women a cabin and twenty acres of land if they’ll live and work in Hard Luck for one year.”
“Great idea!”