Alaskan Homecoming

“It’s love. Trust me.”

Great. The last item Liam needed on his substantial to-do list was dealing with two lovesick teenagers. Especially now.

“Speaking of young love...” Alec gave him a sideways glance.

Liam held up a hand and sighed. “Don’t start. Please.”

He’d thought, hoped, he could avoid talking about Posy. At least with Alec. Alec was a transplant. He’d been in Aurora for only six months or so. But he was also married to one of Posy’s best friends, so the notion that he’d have no idea about Liam and Posy’s tumultuous history had undoubtedly been a pipe dream from the start.

“So long as you’re handling it well. And clearly you are.” Alec shot him a wry smile.

Liam handed him a bucket. “Here. And yes, you are most definitely slave labor.”

Alec laughed, and crunched through the tightly packed snow and onto the surface of the pond. The fine layer of ice atop the snow was due to the unseasonably cold drop in temperature the night before, as were the chips on the surface of the ice. In severely cold weather, ice grew brittle. Brittle ice chipped.

Liam knew that much now. His learning curve since he’d purchased the skating pond had been a big one. He’d taken the plunge as simply a moneymaking venture. Youth pastors weren’t exactly overpaid, and the pond was a key component in Aurora’s nightlife. Its only component, for all practical purposes. When the for-sale sign had gone up, Liam had cashed in the college fund he’d never used and become a skating-rink owner.

But it had quickly become a labor of love. He’d always had an attachment to the pond, like most everything about Aurora. About Aurora itself.

When he’d landed here as a teen, he’d had enough of the nomadic lifestyle that came with being a circuit preacher’s kid. Enough of moving from one village to the next, each one somehow seemingly more and more remote. Enough of being a guest in other people’s homes instead of sleeping in a bed of his own.

And enough of planes. Planes, planes and more planes. The smell of airplane fuel still made him feel a little sick inside.

He’d wanted a home. A town. A place that was his.

He’d told his parents as much the day they’d unpacked their bags in Aurora. He was staying put. He wanted to make friends, go to a regular school, try out for the baseball team...do all the things normal kids did. He’d seen virtually nothing of the town yet. Just the tree...that fateful tree. Stretching its beautiful blue, snow-laden boughs over everything. Welcoming arms.

His mom and dad had prayed about his announcement, discussed it for days on end. Finally, they’d agreed to buy a house and stay put for three years. Just until he graduated from high school. His dad would come and go as his job required, but Liam, his mother and his brother would stay right there in Aurora.

Liam had been elated. He’d thrown himself into life in Aurora. He’d loved that town. And it had loved him right back. And in time, Aurora—its people, its icicle air, its permafrost ground—had become home.

And now he owned a piece of that town. A piece of its heart. At times, he couldn’t believe it. Then something would happen. The temperature would drop suddenly, and the surface of the ice would crack. Or they’d get an unexpected heavy rain, a layer of shale ice would cover the pond, and he’d have to scrape the entire surface. Undoubtedly, Liam would be reminded that he was indeed the owner and operator of an outdoor skating rink.

“No more chips. Everything looks good.” Alec stepped off the ice and tossed the empty bucket into the snow.

Liam wound the hose and turned the water faucet until it was just shy of the off position. A fraction of an inch could make the difference between being stuck with frozen pipes and maintaining his sanity. “Thanks, man. I appreciate the help. There’s never a shortage of things to do around here.”

“No problem.” Alec grinned in Ronnie’s direction. “With any luck, your boy over there will keep getting in trouble, and you’ll have so much help you won’t know what to do with all of your free time.”

Sundog flopped on his back and shimmied in the snow, sending a wave of powder flying ten feet. In two seconds flat, Liam was buried up to his shins. “Bored? Doubtful.”

“Pastor? Pastor!” Ronnie called from midway across the ice. He skidded toward the edge while juggling his empty red bucket.

“Don’t look now, but that trouble I mentioned is about to rear its ugly head,” Alec muttered under his breath.

The crunch of tires on snow caused Liam to turn around, and when he saw the familiar silver truck, he knew at once why Ronnie was in such a hurry to get off the ice.

He turned back around, and sure enough, Ronnie stood before him, red-faced from exertion, scowling at Melody’s truck. “What’s she doing here?”

Liam inhaled calmly. “Melody practices here sometimes before the pond opens up for the night. You know that.”

Ronnie rolled his eyes. “She thinks she’s going to be a real skater one day. Please.”

“She already is a real skater.” Graceful. Almost balletic. Sometimes it was like watching a memory glide over the frosted mirror surface of the ice. “Why don’t you stick around while she skates? I think you’ll be impressed.”

Ronnie looked at Liam in abject horror. “No. Way.”

Behind his back, Alec stifled a grin.

“Ronnie.” Liam lifted a brow. A warning.

“I mean no, thanks.” Ronnie shoved his hands in his pockets and looked everywhere except in the direction of the truck, where Melody was climbing down from the passenger seat, her skates slung over her shoulder by their laces. “I’ve got homework.”

Sure he did.

“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow after school, then,” Liam said.

“See you, Pastor.” Ronnie trudged toward his rust bucket of a car.

Liam called after him, “Thanks for the help fixing the ice.”

Ronnie waved, steadfastly avoiding Melody’s gaze as she walked past him. Once he’d just about reached his car, he turned slightly. He ventured a glance at Melody right as she looked at him over her shoulder. She smiled. He smiled in return, then seemed to realize what he was doing. He scowled. She scowled back and stomped toward a bench to sit and put on her skates.

“What did I tell you?” Alec muttered. “Young love. It’s a classic case.”

Liam’s gut tightened. Alec was right. How had he not seen it before? The two of them were about as subtle as a moose in striped pajamas.

Then again, what had Liam ever known about love?

* * *

Posy had never felt so exhausted and yet so awake at the same time. Three hours and four cups of coffee after arriving at the Northern Lights Inn, she finally left and headed to her parents’ house.

Her house. At least she still thought of it as her house, even though she hadn’t darkened its door in seven years.

Six. Not seven.

She wanted to strangle Liam. She kept thinking about him sitting beside her, across from Lou, making his case for why she shouldn’t be teaching ballet at the church.

I’m just not sure ballet is the answer. Posy hasn’t set foot in Alaska in seven years.

It wasn’t a crime. People were allowed to leave home. It was normal. Natural. Liam just felt differently about it because of the way he’d been brought up, always moving from place to place. Home was a sacred concept to Liam. Aurora was sacred.

The town was sacred to her, too. Didn’t he understand that?

How could he possibly when you left and never looked back?

She slid her key into the lock on the front door, but it was unnecessary. The knob turned and the door fell open, just as it always had. There were no such things as locked doors in Aurora. Just one of the many differences between a tiny Alaskan town and a big city like San Francisco.