followed, almost as if he wasn’t sure what else to ask.
“Could you tell me a little about the library building?” she ventured.
He nodded. “Actually it was a home at one time—my grandfather’s original homestead, in fact—but I don’t think you’d have much of a problem turning it into a library, would you?”
“Probably not.”
Already, Abbey’s mind was at work, dividing up the house. One of the bedrooms could be used for fiction, another for nonfiction. The dining room would be perfect for a reading room, or it could be set up as an area for children.
“You understand that life in Hard Luck isn’t going to be anything like Seattle,” Christian commented, breaking into her thoughts.
Her father had said that very thing the day before. “I realize that.” She paused for a moment. “Could I ask you about the house and the land you’re offering?”
“Of course.”
“Well, uh, could you tell me about the house?”
She waited.
“It’s more of a cabin, and I’d describe it as...rustic.” He seemed to stumble on the word. “It definitely has a...rural feel. Don’t get me wrong, it’s comfortable, but it’s different from what you’re used to.”
“I’m sure it is. Tell me about Hard Luck.”
The man across from her relaxed. “It’s probably the most beautiful place on earth. You might think I’m prejudiced and I can’t very well deny it. I guess you’ll have to form your own opinion.
“In summer there’s sunlight nearly twenty-four hours a day. That’s when the wildflowers bloom. I swear every color under the sun bursts to life almost overnight. The forests and tundra turn scarlet and gold and burnt orange.”
“It sounds lovely.” And it did. “What about the winters?”
“Oh, yes. Well, again, it’s beautiful, but the beauty is kind of...stark. Pristine’s a good word. I don’t think anyone’s really lived until they’ve seen our light show.”
“The aurora borealis.”
Christian smiled approvingly. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he continued. “It gets mighty cold. In winter it isn’t uncommon for the temperature to drop to forty or fifty below.”
“My goodness.” Although Abbey knew this, hearing him say it reinforced the reality.
“On those days, almost everything closes down. We don’t generally fly when it’s that cold. It’s too hard on the planes, and even harder on the pilots.”
Abbey nodded; he’d told her about Midnight Sons, the O’Halloran brothers’ air charter service, during their phone conversation.
“What about everything else?” she asked. “Like the school. Does it close down, too?” He’d also explained in their previous conversation that Hard Luck had a school that went from kindergarten to twelfth grade.
“Life in town comes to a standstill, and we all sort of snuggle together. There’s nothing to do in weather that cold but wait it out. Most days, we manage to keep the school open, though.” He shrugged. “We rely on one another in Hard Luck. We have to.”
“What about food?”
“We’ve got a grocery store. It’s not a supermarket, mind you, but it carries the essentials. Everyone in town stocks up on supplies once a year. But if you run out of anything, there’s always the grocery. If Pete Livengood—he’s the guy who owns it—if he doesn’t have what you need, one of the pilots can pick it up for you. Midnight Sons makes daily flights into Fairbanks, so it isn’t like you’re stuck there.”
“What about driving to Fairbanks? When I looked up Hard Luck, I couldn’t make out any roads. There is one, isn’t there?”
“Sure there is—in a manner of speaking,” Christian said proudly. “We got ourselves a haul road a few years back.”
Abbey was relieved. If she did get the job, she’d have to have her furniture and other household effects delivered; without a road, that would obviously have been a problem. Flying them was sure to be prohibitively expensive.
“Do you have any more questions for me?” she asked.
“None.” Christian looked at his watch. “Would you mind filling out the application form while you’re here? I’ll be holding interviews for the next day or so. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon, if that’s all right.”
Abbey stood. “That’d be fine.”
Christian gave her the one-page application, which she completed quickly and gave back to him.
He rose from behind the table and extended his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too.” Even before she’d come in for the interview, she’d known she’d accept the position if it was offered to her. She needed a job, needed to support her family. If that meant traveling to the ends of the earth, she’d do it. But as she turned to walk away, Abbey realized she not only needed this position, she wanted it. Badly.
She loved the idea of creating her own library. But it wasn’t just the challenge of the job that excited her. She’d watched this man’s eyes light up as he talked about his home. When he said Hard Luck was beautiful, he’d said it with sincerity, with passion. When he told her about the tundra and the forest, she could imagine their beauty. She’d seen plenty of photographs and even a National Geographic documentary, but it was his words that truly convinced her. More than that, excited her.
“Mr. O’Halloran?” she said, surprising herself.
He was already seated, leafing intently through a sheaf of papers. He glanced up. “Yes?”
“If you decide to hire me, I promise I’ll do a good job for you and the people in Hard Luck.”
He nodded. “And I promise I’ll phone you soon.”
* * *
“Well?” Scott looked at Abbey expectantly when she walked into the house. “How’d the interview go?”
Abbey slipped off her pumps and curled her toes into the carpet. “Fine—I think.”
“Will you get the job?”
Abbey didn’t want to build up her son’s hopes. “I don’t know, honey. Where’s Missy?” Since she paid the teenage babysitter top dollar, she expected her to stay with Scott and Susan for the agreed-upon number of hours.
“Her mother wanted her to put a roast in the oven at four-thirty. Susan went with her. They’ll be back soon.”
Abbey collapsed into her favorite chair and dangled her arms over the sides. Her feet rested on the ottoman.
“Are you finished your homework?” she asked.
“I don’t have any. There’s only a couple more weeks left of school.”
“I know.”
Abbey dreaded the summer months. Every year, day camp and babysitting were more and more expensive. Scott was getting old enough to resent having a teenager stay with him. Not that Abbey blamed him. Before she knew it, her son would be thirteen himself.
“Would it be okay if I went over to Jason’s house?” he asked eagerly. “I’ll be home in time for dinner.”
Abbey nodded, but she knew it wasn’t the other boy he was interested in seeing. It was those puppies that’d captured his nine-year-old heart.
* * *
Sawyer walked into the long, narrow structure that sat next to the gravel-and-dirt runway. The mobile served as the office for Midnight Sons. Eventually they hoped to build