he had to admit he’d become caught up with the idea himself. It had seemed like a simple solution to a complex problem. You’d think a group of men, all of whom were over thirty, would have the brains to know better.
Sawyer could only imagine what his older brother would say when he found out what they’d done. Charles would be spitting nails.
Sawyer passed his hand over his eyes and sighed deeply. He didn’t understand what would bring a woman like Abbey Sutherland to Hard Luck in the first place. She wouldn’t last, and he’d known it the moment he laid eyes on her.
It occurred to him that she might be running away. From her ex-husband? Perhaps she’d gotten involved in an abusive relationship. His hands formed tight fists at the thought of her husband mistreating her—at the thought of any man mistreating any woman.
Sawyer had seen for himself the dull pain in her eyes when she said she was divorced. He just wasn’t sure why it was there. Understanding women wasn’t his forte, and he felt himself at a real disadvantage. He lacked the experience, but he liked to think he was generally a good judge of character.
Then again, maybe he wasn’t. There’d been only one serious relationship in his life, and that hadn’t lasted long. Just when he was feeling comfortable with the way things were going, Loreen had started hinting at marriage. Soon those hints had become ultimatums. He’d liked Loreen just fine, but he wasn’t anywhere close to marriage. Once he’d told her that, she left him.
Sawyer assumed that was how a lot of women felt. They wanted a ring to make everything official and complete. Well, he’d seen what could happen when a couple fell out of love. His parents were the perfect example of the kind of relationship he didn’t want. They’d been chained to faded dreams and unhappy memories. So Sawyer had let Loreen go, and try as he might he hadn’t once regretted his decision.
Sawyer didn’t know how he was going to handle the problem of Abbey and her family. What he should do was put her and those two kids of hers on the afternoon flight out of Hard Luck.
But he wouldn’t. Because if he even suggested it, twenty men would happily lynch him from the nearest tree. Of course, they’d have to go more than two hundred miles to find a tree tall enough for the job....
After he finished his coffee, Sawyer headed over to the café. It seemed half the town was there, eager to meet Abbey. There was no place to sit, so he stood, arms folded and one foot braced against the wall, hoping to give the impression that he was relaxed and at ease.
Ben, he noted, was pleased as a pig in...mud to be doing such a brisk business. The cook wove his way between the mismatched tables, refilling coffee cups and making animated conversation.
He lifted the glass pot toward Sawyer with a questioning look.
Sawyer shook his head. He sure didn’t need another coffee. In fact, he shouldn’t have had the last one.
He saw that Abbey was surrounded by four of his pilots. They circled the table where she sat with Pearl and her children, like buzzards closing in on a fresh kill. You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.
His crew was a mangy-looking bunch, Sawyer mused, with the exception of Duke, who was broad-shouldered and firm-muscled. One thing he could say about all of them was that they were excellent pilots. Lazy SOBs when the mood struck them, though. He didn’t know anyone who could love flying as much as a bush pilot and still come up with the world’s most inventive excuses to avoid duty.
Everyone plied Abbey with questions. Sawyer half expected all this attention to fluster her, but she handled their inquisition with graceful ease. He was astonished by how quickly she’d picked up on names and matched them to faces.
Ben sauntered over to his side. His gaze followed Sawyer’s. “Pretty, isn’t she?” Ben said. “I wouldn’t mind marrying her myself.”
“You’re joking.” Sawyer’s eyes narrowed as he studied his longtime friend.
Ben’s heavy shoulders shook with silent laughter. “So that’s the way it is.”
“Which way is that?” Sawyer challenged.
“She’s already got you hooked. In no time, you’ll be just like all the others, fighting for the pleasure of her company.”
Sawyer snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous! I just hope we don’t have any more women arriving with families in tow.”
Ben’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t know about the kids?”
“Nope. Christian didn’t, either, from what she said. Ms. Sutherland claims she didn’t get a chance to tell him.”
“Well, no one’ll have a problem with a couple more kids in Hard Luck,” Ben commented.
“That’s not the point.”
Ben frowned. “Then what is?”
“The cabins. Abbey can’t live in one of those cabins with her children.”
Ben leaned against the wall with Sawyer. “Yeah, you’re right. So, what are you going to do?”
“No idea.” Sawyer shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “It isn’t like there’s a house available for us to rent.”
“Catherine Fletcher’s place is vacant.”
Sawyer shook his head. He wouldn’t even consider approaching Catherine’s family, and he doubted his brothers would be willing to do so either, regardless of the circumstances.
The bad blood between the two families ran deep. It would take a lot more than needing an empty house to wipe out forty years of ill will.
Catherine Harmon Fletcher was in poor health now, and in a nursing home in Anchorage, close to her daughter.
Ellen, Sawyer’s mother, had suffered so much unhappiness because of Catherine. But she no longer lived in Hard Luck either. She’d remarried and had relocated to British Columbia, as happy as Sawyer had ever known her. He didn’t begrudge his mother her new life. He figured she deserved it after all the miserable years she’d endured.
“What about Pearl’s? She’s going to be moving in with her daughter,” Ben reminded him.
Sawyer hated to see the older woman go, but she’d told him it was time for her to move on, especially now that her friends had mostly left.
“Pearl’s not leaving until we hire a replacement and she’s had the opportunity to train her,” Sawyer said.
Ben mulled over the problem for several minutes. “What about the lodge?” he asked. “I know it’s been years since anyone’s stayed there, but—”
“The lodge?” Sawyer repeated. “You’re joking!”
“It’d take a little work....”
“A little work!” Sawyer knew he was beginning to sound like a parrot, repeating everything the other man said, but the idea was ludicrous. The lodge was in terrible shape. It would take months of hard work and thousands of dollars to make it livable. If it hadn’t been so much trouble, they would have refurbished it, instead of dealing with the cabins. But those, at least, were in one piece.
A fire had burned part of the lodge the year their father died, and not one of the three brothers had ever had the heart to get it repaired.
Their mother had always hated the lodge, which had become a symbol of everything that was wrong with her marriage, and she’d used the fire as an excuse to close it completely. If it’d been up to him, Sawyer would’ve torn the place down years ago. As it was now, the largest building in town stood vacant, a constant reminder of the father he’d loved and lost.
Ben wiped his forehead. “Yeah. The lodge wouldn’t work. It’s a shame, really.”
Sawyer wasn’t sure if Ben was talking about the abandoned lodge or Abbey’s situation.
There was no easy