Northern Renegade

“Shut up.” She landed an elbow to his side.

Liam smiled. “Let me guess—brother and sister?”

The girl spoke up. “Twins.” She shot her brother a triumphant smirk. “I’m the oldest.”

That pulled a laugh out of Liam. “Me, too. I beat my brother out by five minutes.” And much like this kid, he never let Lars forget it.

She looked slightly crestfallen. “Oh, I was only four minutes,” she perked up, “but I was still first.”

“That’s because they were saving the best for last,” the boy said. Obviously they’d run through this spiel a number of times before.

“Humph.”

“Our grandparents run the dry goods store,” the boy said, ignoring his sister’s disdainful snort. “We’re spending the summer with them. They can hook you up if you need stuff. The beef jerky’s really good. Mr. Curl makes it himself.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

A whoop came from the baseball game down the way. “I’m playing first base.”

“Uh-uh. Me.”

They exchanged a look Liam recognized from swapping the same look with his twin brother, Lars, innumerable times—not if I get there first.

“See ya,” they yelled in unison as they took off running, the dog loping down the sidewalk behind them.

The town had definitely grown since the last time he was here, which would’ve been sixteen or so years ago when he was sixteen and still wet behind the ears. But it still had a good feel to it. He opened the door and walked into the bed-and-breakfast/airfield office.

It was pretty much the way he remembered it. Lace-trimmed flannel curtains still hung at the windows. A couple of tables were in “the front room.” The far side wall definitely held more framed photographs but the potbellied stove was still flanked by a couple of rocking chairs with a chess and checkers table between two of them.

In the far corner, a flat-screened television had replaced the older boxy model that had been there. The armchair and love seat also had a newer look than he remembered. But it still felt and smelled the same—welcoming.

Merilee Danville Weatherspoon turned from her desk to the right of the back door leading to the airstrip.

“Hi there, Merilee.”

Within seconds recognition dawned in her blue eyes and a broad welcoming smile lit her face. “Liam!”

She pushed up from her desk and crossed the room, her arms already extended to embrace him. She enfolded him in a welcoming hug, giving him a squeeze. “It’s so good to see you! We knew you were coming, but we didn’t know when.”

“That makes two of us. I took my time getting here.”

“Does Bull know you’re here?”

He shook his head. “I figured he was either here or next door and I knew for sure coffee was here so…”

Merilee smiled as she turned and headed for the coffee stand. Within seconds she’d poured him a cup. She was damn near as fast with that coffeepot as he was with his Glock. “Straight up?”

“Always.” He grinned as he took the cup from her. That’s how he preferred any situation—straight up.

“Muffin?”

“No, thanks.”

“That’s right. I remember you don’t have a sweet tooth at all. You’re looking good.”

He laughed. “I need a shave and a haircut, but thanks.” She was a classy lady and it was a nice thing to say. “You’re looking good yourself.”

“Well, thank you. That’s because I’m happy. Bull and I got married.”

“Congratulations! That’s cool.”

“It has been very cool,” she said. She practically glowed.

The cynical side of him was impressed. Merilee and Bull had been an item for a damn long time. It was pretty mind-blowing she could still look like that, all soft and sweet, when she talked about his uncle. He wouldn’t rain on her happy parade but her talk of marriage inevitably led him to think of his own marriage… and subsequent divorce.

Liam supposed, in retrospect, he’d never felt that way about Natalie and obviously she sure as hell hadn’t felt that way about him. He’d liked being married but the truth was he hadn’t missed Natalie as much per se as he’d missed having someone to come home to. And it had been a long time since he’d had a woman. Since his divorce, a few had come on to him and he’d even briefly considered an uncomplicated exchange of sex for money when a hooker had propositioned him, but he’d passed on all of it. He’d been beyond that mindless physical engagement back in his early twenties.

“How long have you guys been married?” he said.

“It’ll be two years in December. We tied the knot on Christmas Day. I’ll let Bull tell you the story.” She grinned. “I just wanted to tell you the news.”

He liked Merilee even more now than he had when he was a teenager. Although, he’d thought she was pretty damn cool then, too. She’d left her old man, driven an RV out to nowhere and founded a damn town. Now that was a woman with a pioneer spirit. Back in the day, she’d been the town mayor. He’d bet a buck she still was.

“You still the mayor?”

She nodded. “I can’t find anyone to run against me. At this point it feels more like dictator-for-life.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve thought about stepping down so I could just relax and Bull and I could travel, but it hasn’t worked out that way.”

“Not your style. You’re a born leader.”

She grinned. “Bull says I like to have my own way. He just stepped next door to Gus’s if you want to drop in over there. I imagine you’re ready for a hot meal.”

“I could eat a bite or two.” He could get by on field rations but he enjoyed a home-cooked meal as much as the next man. Well, maybe a little more. His last real meal had been when he pulled out of Anchorage a couple of days ago. “Whatever’s cooking next door smells good.”

“Caribou potpie. Lucky, the guy who owns it now, does a good job.”

It smelled damn good, that was for sure. “I’ll go check it out and catch up with Bull.” He smiled and turned to head for the restaurant that adjoined the airstrip center.

Merilee spoke, halting him. “Liam…” He turned. Smiling, she said, “Welcome to Good Riddance, where you get to leave behind what ails you.”

“Thanks.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple and he wasn’t sure that was why he was here.

BASTARD. BASTARD. BASTARD.

The words had danced around in her brain all morning like some liturgical chant… which made it altogether fairly difficult to make progress on her book, which was due at the publisher’s at the end of the month. And actually fairly difficult to concentrate on what her stepsister, Jenna, was saying now.

Jenna waved a hand in front of Tansy’s face. “Woohoo! Hello there. Anyone home? Earth to Tansy.”

Tansy shook her head to clear it and laughed, focusing on Jenna’s teasing countenance across the booth of Gus’s, the only restaurant in Good Riddance. It was a fun mix of a saloon from an old Western and a down-home diner. She and Jenna were sitting in a booth near the bar and front door. A mounted moose head overlooked the bar, which boasted a brass foot rail. The other side of the room held more booths and tables, a jukebox, a dartboard and a couple of pool tables. Regardless of the time of day, in the week that Tansy had been here, the local gathering spot was never without customers. “Sorry. I was wool-gathering.”