Page 1 of Reeve

Chapter 1

Reeve (and Harper)

“Are you on your way, babycakes?”

Babycakes. Baby.

I roll my eyes.

As the youngest in a family of six siblings, I’vealwaysbeen the baby.

It doesn’t matter that I’m twenty years old, living in a cabin on my own, and making my own money as an EMT during the off-season and as a tour guide all summer long. It doesn’t even matter that there are threeactualbabies—my nieces, Wren and Emily Anne, and my nephew, Madden—in our family now. My sister Harperstillcallsme“babycakes.”

“Yeah,” I say, grimacing at the Bluetooth mic mounted on the visor over the windshield. “I’ll be there soon.”

Harper makes me call her whenever I leave Dyea en route to her house in Skagway. Never mind that I’ve done the drive well over a thousand times in my lifetime or that it’s a little over ten miles and takes just under half an hour to complete it. Shestillmakes me call.

“See you in twenty-five minutes,” she says.

I picture my older sister setting a twenty-five-minute alarm on her Apple watch, so that even if she gets distracted between now and my arrival, she’ll know exactly when I’m supposed to be there. And woe to me if I’m more than five minutes late. Positive I’m stuck in a ditch or being eaten by wolves, she’ll send her husband, Sheriff Joe, or his annoying sidekick, Deputy Aaron, to track me down.

“Be careful of the ice on the Nahku Bay curve,” she adds. “Tanner spun out there yesterday. Almost had a heart attack when I heard.”

“Yes,mother,” I mutter.

“I’m not your mother,” she snaps back, “but if she was here, she’d say the same. Be safe. See you soon.”

She hangs up before I can say anything else, and my phone screen dims when the call ends. There are no streetlights on the road from Dyea to Skagway. It’s pitch black outside but for the headlights on my Range Rover. It’s a bumpy ride, too. This is an old dirt road that’s never been paved and has more than its fair share of erosion, loose gravel, potholes and wildlife. Even if my oldest sibling, Hunter, was driving, she’d still tell him to be careful.

Heck, it’s not that I reallymindbeing the youngest.After all, it’s all I’ve ever known. Someone had to come last, right?It isn’t my place in the birth order that I mind, really. It’s being treated like an eternal “baby” when I’m a fully-grown young woman.

Take, for instance, my dating life.

Mynon-existentdating life.

Dating in high school was next to impossible with Parker and Sawyer watching my every move and reporting back to our older siblings. After they graduated, one of my classmates finally mustered up the courage to ask me to our senior prom, but little did I know he’d cleared the invitation with Sawyer first. And Sawyer had told the guy, I found out later, that yes, he could ask me to the prom, but if he got “handsy” with me, he’d wake up minus one nut in the morning. Imagine my confusion when I tried to kiss my date on the dance floor, and he’d shoved me away like I had a rare disease. He’d mumbled something like, “it’s not worth a ball,” then disappeared for the rest of the night.

Let me be clear. When your brothers threaten the sacred jewels of your potential suitors, it’s awfully hard to get asked out on a date, let alone find a boyfriend.

Suffice it to say, I haven’t had a very robust romantic life. Aside from a couple of standoffish dates my senior year of highschool and a few stolen kisses with a tourist here and there, I haven’t had much of a love life at all. And what’s even worse, is I’ve stopped looking for one…at least here, in Skagway.

What’s the point? “Baby” Reeve Stewart isn’t on anyone’s First Date Bingo card. Not if they know my brothers, anyway. Getting to know me doesn’t seem to be worth the headache, and I get it. The glowering of my brothers and brothers-in-law—which includes the town sheriff, for god’s sake!—doesn’t make me a very appealing prospect for a potential boyfriend.

But the fact of the matter is I’m lonely. Especially now that my siblings have all found someone special, I’m more aware of my single status than ever before. Though they are constantly inviting me to spend time with them and their families, I still feel like a third wheel. I want someone, too. My own special someone. I want him so bad, it hurts.

That longing, combined with my love of emergency medicine, propelled me toward a huge life decision last summer. On the sly, without telling anyone in my family, I applied to the School of Nursing at the University of Alaska Anchorage. To my surprise and delight, I was not only accepted, but offered a scholarship for the winter semester. My classes start on the second Monday in January, which gives me approximately six weeks to tell my family I’m leaving Skagway to study in Anchorage for the next four years.

Whew.

They’re not going to like it. That’s for sure.

But aside from the fact that I desperately want a career in healthcare, I recognize the dire need for space from my family—the kind of space that can only be found through real physical distance.

It’s time for baby Reeve to grow up, whether they like it or not.

***

“You made good time,” says Harper as I step into her living room, letting the front door slam shut behind me. “Were you speeding? I told you it was icy!”

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