Page 54 of Arctic Panda's Secret Mate
“These logs came from further south in the state,” Haisley added, rapping on a log column. “We have such a short growing season here that our trees don’t tend to get this big! It’s almost impossible to find logs of this size anywhere now.”
Haisley took them out on the second floor porch—it was very crowded with all of them—and pointed out the views. “That slight glow at the horizon is Fairbanks. We have very little light pollution, so chances of seeing northern lights from the upper porch are excellent in thewinter. Not in the summer, of course, because it doesn’t get dark.”
“I’d love to come back and see the midnight sun,” Magnolia said. Chef saw her shiver and wrapped his arms around her.
“We can show you photos of the view during the day,” Alice said. “I’ve taken a hundred of them.”
“The property extends about a mile and a half in that direction,” Haisley said, pointing. “Plenty of room for private expansion if it was desired. The nearest neighbors on the road are a mile in either direction. The property to the south is a designated greenbelt. There are some established trails, but very little regular traffic. I have the most recent property plat in my office downstairs.”
“Thank you, I already have it,” Mal said.
Haisley herded them back inside and made sure the doors were securely shut behind her. “You’ll notice the old-fashioned hardware on all the interior doors. These were actually ordered from Switzerland, and although they are a brass finish, all of the internal workings are stainless steel.”
“Do you have much theft or vandalism to deal with?”
“None at all!” Haisley considered, then added frankly, “Sometimes the mail from the box at the road gets stolen. But the only local hoodlums are the moose who eat the garden!”
Everyone chuckled except Mal.
She finished the tour back at the great room. “We have a selection of snowsuits and boots available for guests to use outdoors. Most of our clients bring their own outerwear, but that can be an unreasonable expense for travelers from warm climates who will never use it again.”
Haisley wondered if she imagined that Mal had gotten chillier throughout their inspection. He certainly hadn’tgotten anyfriendlier, and Haisley’s nerves were jangling. “I imagine that is a regular expense, then?”
“We have to replace this gear, as well as skis, snowshoes, and sleds, on a regular basis.”
“What financial programs do you use?” Mal asked, frowning into the closet. “Do you have a regular bookkeeper?”
“I use a simple spreadsheet and present necessary expenses to Mr. Barnum on a monthly basis. I have a credit card for discretionary spending and we have established accounts with local wholesale suppliers. We use an online scheduling service to book orders and collect payments,” Haisley added.
“Do you run the chalet alone?” Mal’s look was critical, like he wasn’t sure she could handle the work.
“Dorothy Sloane is a housekeeper who also lives on site. She is visiting her mother this month, so I’m afraid you won’t be meeting her. We hire additional help as requested or for general repairs. Mr. Barnum makes all executive decisions, if he is available.”
“Do youlikeMr. Barnum?”
Haisley was caught by surprise. “I don’t know him well on a personal level, but he’s always treated me very fairly.” Except for kicking her out over Christmas. Which hadn’t gone the wayanyonehad planned. Would Mal know that she was hedging the truth a little?
“What are the most common complaints of your guests?”
Haisley felt like she was being grilled by an FBI agent in a basement under one bare bulb.
“Some of them are unprepared for the isolation, extreme weather, and variable daylight. We do our best to make the accommodations comfortable, but we sometimes have to bear shortages of common goods.”
“Just like Shifting Sands does,” Tristan pointed out loyally.
“Remember when we ran out of milk for a week?” Breck volunteered.
“I had to dig deep to serve a variety of dairy-free recipes,” Chef chuckled. “The irony being that there wasn’t one single vegan guest that week.” He glanced at Haisley. “I wish I’d had several of your excellent recipes at that time!”
Haisley flushed happily and gave him a grateful look. The Shifting Sands crew had stuck around for the whole tour, supportive at every turn.
Mal only frowned generally around. “I have what I need,” he said shortly. “Thank you for your time.” He nodded at the staff generally, and gravely shook both Haisley’s hand and Tristan’s. “I’ll be in touch.”
Then he pushed up one of his sleeves, murmured something under his breath, and Haisley watched in astonishment as runes tattooed on his forearms briefly glowed. He bent to trace a doorway in the air, light following his fingers, and then stepped through to a dark tropical garden lit with torches. When he was gone, there was a scent of warm salt water that lingered for several moments.
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TRISTAN
