Page 6 of An Alaskan Wedding (Alaskan Grooms 1)

By late afternoon, the crowd at the Moose Café had dwindled to a few stragglers. Sheriff Prescott had taken off shortly after she made her comment about broken hearts. Judging by his reaction, it fell under the category of “too much information.” She shouldn’t be surprised. Most men shied away from conversations about feelings and heartache. Come to think of it, so did she. But there had been something so poignant and genuine about his desire to protect his grandfather. It had cracked her wide open.

Hearts don’t come with a warning label. Ugh! She couldn’t believe those words had tumbled off her lips. There must be something in the Alaskan air that caused blabber-itis. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

After Cameron shut down the kitchen and coffee bar he laid out some basic rules about working for him. He seemed like a pretty laid-back and reasonable boss. He gave each of them a uniform—a custom designed T-shirt with a big brown moose on it. The words, Got coffee? had been printed on one of the antlers. There were also a pair of sweatpants with the words Moose Café printed down the side of one leg. Grace didn’t know what was more upsetting. The ugly brown uniform or the idea of coming to work tomorrow as a barista. She chewed on her lip, wondering if she should pull Cameron aside and confess her lack of real-world experience as a barista.

No, she couldn’t do it. It might cast her in a bad light and draw suspicion on her. She didn’t need anyone in Love questioning her reasons for being in Alaska. This series would rise and fall on the real-life experiences of the townsfolk. If she couldn’t get them to trust her an

d talk freely with her about their trials and tribulations, as well as the woman shortage...there would be no series. If they had any reason to suspect her, they might clam up. She was just going to have to channel her inner barista and do her best to whip up the best coffee drinks ever served at the Moose Café.

Since she and Sophie were both going to be living at the Black Bear Cabins, Hazel, their new landlord, had offered to drive them over. Grace was feeling a little jet-lagged after the long flight and the meet and greet with the residents of Love. It would be nice to get into some comfy clothes and relax. Something about the dark, dreary climate was making her more tired than usual. Not to mention that her fingers were itching to write up some of her observations on her computer before she settled in for the night.

The moment they stepped outside she noticed the sign reading Sheriff’s Department tacked on to the building directly across the street. She let out a sigh. Having the easy-on-the-eyes sheriff so close by might not be such a good thing. Being in Love had nothing to do with discovery or making a match with a hunky Alaskan man. It was all about her job. Staying here in Alaska for six weeks was a means to an end. This series about the citizens of Love, Alaska, would sell itself. All she had to do was write meaty articles and sprinkle them with slices of everyday life in this charming hamlet.

The minute Jasper had started talking about the Gold Rush and lost treasure, he’d totally captured her attention. It was the perfect angle for the piece. It added a historical perspective and a folksy charm that would hook readers. She brushed aside the kernel of guilt gnawing at her. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be subjecting this small village to considerable media once her piece about buried treasure in Love hit the presses. She prayed it wouldn’t turn into a media circus with treasure hunters descending on the fishing village in pursuit of riches.

It’s not my problem, she reminded herself. Eyes on the prize. In six weeks’ time this town would be nothing more than a memory for her. The only person she had any allegiance to was herself. And her job at the New York Tribune.

“It’s only about an eight-minute drive to the cabins,” Hazel explained as she navigated her truck along the snow-covered streets of downtown Love. Grace quietly took in all the quaint shops along Jarvis Street as Sophie chattered away in the front seat. There was a barbershop, a small bookstore called The Bookworm, a trading post, a post office and a pawnshop. Grace wrinkled her nose. Where were the nail salon and the beauty shop? Had her research led her astray? She’d been certain that at least one beauty shop existed in Love. Perhaps it had closed down or it wasn’t located in the center of town. Maybe nails and hair weren’t deemed important here.

“How do you drive in all this snow?” Grace asked, her eyes transfixed by the snowflakes swirling through the air. It fascinated her to see Hazel tackling the rugged, icy terrain as if it was no big deal.

“As long as I have my all-wheel drive and studded tires, I’m good. You get used to driving in snow and ice in this type of climate. We’re heading into the rainy season, too, which has its own challenges. Luckily, winters aren’t as brutal here on the coast as they are in the interior. At least here in Love we can enjoy outdoor activities without freezing our tails off.”

Nope! Grace thought. Freezing her tail off was definitely not an option.

Along the way they passed a few other cars and some townsfolk. Each and every time, Hazel tooted her horn and waved. If nothing else, Grace got the impression that the folks here in town were part of a tight-knit community. In New York, people typically honked their horns as a sign of annoyance and rarely as a way of greeting their neighbors.

They sped by several moose-crossing signs, a sight that caused Grace to take out her camera and snap a few pictures. Although she had no idea what happened when you ran across a moose, the very idea of it seemed surreal. When Hazel turned off the main road, a faded, rusted sign announced the Black Bear Cabins. Snow-covered trees lined the lane leading to the property. Beautiful white-capped mountains loomed in the distance, serving as a reminder that she was in a completely different world than the one she normally inhabited. The cabins were a reddish brown color and were rustic in appearance. Each one had a porch out front with two Adirondack chairs filling up the small space.

Hazel helped them lug their suitcases to their front porches. As she made her way to her new lodging, snow and ice seeped into her shoes, bringing into sharp focus her earlier conversation with the sheriff of Love. She hated to admit it, but her shoe choice hadn’t been practical. Sooner rather than later, she was going to have to dig out her furry, heeled boots.

Their new landlord took out a key and opened up the cabin door. She ushered them in with a flourish, extending her hand as she said, “Here are your digs. Living room, kitchen, bed and bath. Nothing fancy, but it’s warm and safe.” She handed Sophie another key. “Your place is next door. If you need anything I’m at the lodge right down the road. There’s a blue rock outside poking through the snow. You can’t miss it.” Before Grace could blink, Hazel was gone.

Grace frowned as she looked around the utilitarian cabin. Every single thing in the cabin was brown and no-frills. She had a sudden flashback to Camp Hiawatha, the overnight camp her parents had stuck her for three long weeks when she’d been twelve. The word bleak instantly came to mind. “This place is—”

“Full of possibilities,” Sophie interjected.

Grace turned toward the closest thing she had to a friend in Love. Although she was hoping to see a look of dismay on her face, all she saw was a perky little smile. She dropped her bags to the hardwood floor with a thud and heaved a tremendous sigh. She liked Sophie an awful lot, but there was no way on Earth she could fix this situation. As far as Grace was concerned, the next six weeks couldn’t go by fast enough.

Chapter Three

Boone put his feet up on his desk and settled back in his chair, his hands braced behind his head as he made himself comfortable. Although his shift was officially done, he planned on hanging out at his office for a bit longer.

It wasn’t as if he had anything to go home to at night. Maybe if Kona was a stay-at-home dog, Boone would be raring to leave the office after a full day’s work, if only to reunite with his four-legged friend. So far, being at the sheriff’s office trumped going home to an empty house. With every passing day he was beginning to realize that God hadn’t intended him to walk through life alone. Lately, there had been a relentless ache inside him. A desire to settle down. An unwillingness to spend another Valentine’s Day without a special someone in his life. Perhaps Operation Love wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

He shook his head and chuckled at the memory of Thomas and Seth fighting over Grace. Although he didn’t advocate using one’s fists to solve problems, he had to admit that a woman like Grace Corbett might cause a man to get carried away. One look into those sapphire-blue eyes and a person could start thinking of things he’d avoided for a long time.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he barely heard the rapping on his office door. Shelly peered in, orange curls bouncing as she bobbed her head. “I just fielded a call from one of the ladies staying at the Black Bear Cabins. She identified herself as Grace Corbett.”

Grace? Shelly now had his undivided attention. He swung his legs off the desk and sat up ramrod straight in his chair. “What’s the problem?”

“She said she’s trapped inside her cabin with a wild animal.”

* * *

Grace sat on the front porch of her cabin, her arms wrapped around her middle as the cold night air began to whip relentlessly against her body. It was fair to say that Sophie must sleep like the dead since she hadn’t emerged from her cabin despite Grace’s desperate cries for help. Nor had she answered her door when Grace had banged on it a few minutes ago. Her current predicament was courtesy of one onyx-colored animal who’d scampered across the living room and scooted under the sofa. For more terrifying minutes than she wanted to admit, she’d stayed frozen in place, afraid to move an inch lest her movement provoked the creature to come out of hiding and attack her.

She’d cried out for help to no avail. She didn’t even have Hazel’s phone number. Feeling desperate, she’d reached for her cell phone and dialed 911 to report the emergency situation. Once she’d gathered her courage to make a break for it, she’d dashed to the front door and escaped. In her panic she’d forgotten to grab her coat. Oh, well. She’d rather freeze to death than venture back into the cabin and run the risk of coming face-to-face with the creature. In the brief seconds she’d laid eyes on him, he’d seemed vicious and mean. She’d seen fangs. Of that she was certain.

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