#WhatsNew Great romance
Sometimes old flames are the hottest of all . . .
In the quaint little town of Cailkirn, Alaska, it's
impossible to keep a secret, especially one as juicy as
the
unexpected return of Kitty Grant. Tack MacKinnon
remembers
her wild red curls and even wilder spirit-and still feels
the sting from when she shattered his heart in college.
But
there's a pain in Kitty's gorgeous eyes that guts him to
the
core and Tack is determined to do whatever it takes to
see
the woman he still loves smile again-even if it means
taking
on her demons as his own.
After fleeing an abusive ex-husband, Kitty decides that
the
best way to heal her broken heart is to come back home.
But
she gets a whole new shock when she sees how undeniably
sexy
Tack has become. More handsome, more muscular, more
charming-more everything-he's impossible to resist.
Before
she knows it, they're reigniting sparks that could set
the
whole state of Alaska on fire. Yet trust doesn't come
easy
to Kitty anymore, and as things heat up between her and
Tack, she can't help but wonder if one of them is going
to
get burned . . .
Excerpt CHAPTER ONE "We're all going to die this way." Caitlin Grant's head snapped up at the high pitched tones
of the small boy in the seat beside her. He looked up at her with an earnest brown gaze that dared
her to disagree. "Shh...sweetheart," his mother comforted from his other
side, her tone more worried than confident. Still, she
rubbed his short nappy hair in a tender gesture. "It's
going to be fine, Joey. You heard the captain. It's
just turbulence." "The plane is shaking, mom. This can't be good." Joey
sounded so adult and so childish at the same time. Caitlin felt her lips curving into her first smile in
months. "We're coming into Anchorage." Their early
morning flight was right on time. "It's usually choppy
on these flights." "You've been on a shaky plane before?" the boy demanded. Caitlin nodded, one bright red curl slipping from its
clip to brush her cheek. "Many times." Fighting the near irresistible urge to get up and go to
the bathroom so she could smooth her hair uniformly back
into the clip, despite the captain's instructions to
remain seated, Caitlin tucked the errant strands behind
her ear. "This is really bad." Joey's tone indicated disbelief
for her calm assurances. Doubt in her judgment was something Caitlin was very
familiar with. Whether it was the way she chose to wear
her hair, or the orchestra she hired to play at their
annual outdoor fete, her ex-husband had frequently
expressed concerns about Caitlin's questionable choices,
opinions and taste. She'd learned not to defend herself because arguing
always made it worse. Tempted to fall back into old patterns and withdraw,
Caitlin couldn't ignore the small boy's worry however.
And she could not forget the final bit of advice from her
therapist at their last appointment. Leaving your husband isn't going to change what you need
it to if you continue to live as if he's still looking
over your shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Caitlin forced further reassurance
from a tight throat. "I've been on planes that shook
worse than a baby's rattle and with a lot more noise."
How ridiculous for it to be so difficult for her to add
support to her own assertions. "Really?" Joey asked hopefully. Caitlin managed another smile. "Really." "And you didn't die?" She actually had to suppress the urge to grin at that.
Schooling her expression into lines of seriousness, she
said, "No." His mother wasn't as adept at hiding her reaction, doing
a poor job of hiding her snigger with a cough. Joey didn't seem to notice. "Cool." A burst of raucous laughter from the rows behind them
surprised Caitlin enough to draw her gaze. Was that Rock
Jepsom's younger brother? The last Caitlin had heard, Carey had taken off for
Hollywood with his inheritance and no intention to
return. Just like Caitlin, except her inheritance had
barely covered the cost of university. Carey had had a couple million to support his dreams. He
sure didn't look like he was coming back broken like she
was. In fact, he was surrounded by a group who were
clearly in the industry. Caitlin had spent eight years living the life in LA, nine
if she counted her engagement. She recognized actors and
production people as easily as she did a knockoff Chanel
bag. What were they all doing heading into Anchorage? A lot
of movies purported to be set in Alaska, but few actually
were. It was a joke among residents how often the media got it
seriously wrong in their attempts to portray America's
largest state. She wouldn’t have expected Carey to be the one to take up
that cause though. Not even a little bit. But then she'd never expected to move back to Cailkirn
either. Tack MacKinnon finished nailing down the new stair riser
on the back porch steps of the Knit & Pearl Bed and
Breakfast. It was a rare morning off for him during tourist season.
Even though it was early May, he still had plenty to do
getting his business ready for the busier months to come.
Whether he was out blueprinting a new tour, navigating
old ones and looking for changes in the land over the
past year, or taking out some of the early season
clients, Tack's long hours had already started. He'd planned a trip into Kenai for this morning, but when
the eldest Grant sister had phoned to ask for his help,
he hadn't even considered saying no. He might be a MacKinnon, but everyone pitched in to help
the Grant sisters. The last of that particular founding
family still living in Cailkirn, they were as close to
town royalty as anyone was ever going to get. While Alma Winter was no longer technically a Grant, she
was still considered one of "The Grant Sisters" just as
her sister-in-law, Moya Grant, was. Both elderly women
had lost their husbands before Tack had even been born.
The final sister, Elspeth Grant had never married. And was one of the most vigilant matchmakers in all of
Alaska. "Oh, thank you, Tack. You're such a good boy." Miss
Elspeth smiled at him from the wide porch. "You'll stay
for some tea, won't you?" "Of course, Miss Elspeth." It was getting late to make
the trip into Kenai and be back in time for his afternoon
tour anyway. "A man would have to be a fool to turn down
your shortbread cookies." Miss Elspeth went pink with pleasure. "Maggie Grant
brought the recipe from the Old Country and it hasn't
changed in nearly two centuries. Our dear grandmother
passed it down to me even though Alma is the oldest." "My da won't admit it, but they're even better than my
gran's shortbread." Tack grinned up at the elderly
spinster. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that
to Gran MacKinnon though." Miss Elspeth laughed, the sound soft and youthful despite
being closer to seventy than sixty. "Your secret is safe
with me. I've got a secret of my own you know." "From who?" "Everyone. I haven't even told Moya," she finished in a
conspiratorial whisper. "Oh?" "Nope." That surprised him. The two elderly ladies had been best
friends before they became sisters via marriage and were
extremely close. Usually, what one knew, so did the
other – and both delighted in knowing something Miz Alma
did not. The childlike delight in Miss Elspeth's faded blue eyes
made him smile. "Are you going to tell me?" "You know, I think I just might." She nodded, her
straight red hair fluttering in the breeze. "Yes. You
deserve it; you take such good care of us." Tack knew better than to push the older woman, but he was
curious. Any secret Miss Elspeth considered worth
keeping would be interesting, to say the least. Some might the think the Grant sisters were a few crayons
shy of a full box. What with all three of them still
dying their hair red, claiming to be a good twenty years
younger than they were and wearing fancy hats to church
every Sunday. Then there was the way they Miz Moya talked to the ghost
of her deceased husband, in company. All three of the
sister were convinced their home-turned-bed-and-breakfast
was haunted by the first Maggie Grant. Still, Tack liked them. No one in the town loved Cailkirn more or was more
dedicated to the town's thriving. None of them wanted it to turn into another Anchorage, or
even Fairbanks, but Cailkirn was less than a decade shy
of its two hundredth birthday. He and the Grant sisters
shared the need to know it would celebrate that
centennial and many more. Miss Elspeth had fussed Tack's muscular six and a half
foot frame into a sturdy wooden chair at her kitchen
table and put the kettle on before she returned to her
secret. "Someone's coming home and I bet you'll never
guess who." Tack didn't want to steal Miss Elspeth's thunder. So, he
didn't tell her that he'd heard rumors of Rock Jepsom's
younger brother coming. Carey and a bunch of his friends
had booked into the Northern Lights Lodge. With twenty
guest rooms, it was the only thing resembling a hotel in,
or around Cailkirn. The vast majority of Cailkirn's tourist income came from
the more than half a million guests from the cruise ships
that docked daily in their ports May thru September. Day
only visitors, they had no need for local lodgings. In a bid for town harmony, Tack did his best to share the
MacKinnon Bros. Tours clients between the lodge run by
the Sutherlands and the Grant sisters' B&B. Thankfully
the different types of accommodations appealed to
different types of his "Enjoy the Real Alaska Experience"
clients. "Who's coming for a visit, Miss Elspeth?" "Oh, she's not coming for a visit. She's coming home to
stay. I always knew she would, no matter what Alma said.
Sean would have too, if he and Gina hadn't been in that
terrible accident." The mention of Miz Moya's dead son and daughter-in-law
sent a frisson of foreboding through Tack. "She?" he
asked in sepulcher tones. Miss Elspeth could not mean who he thought she did.
Granddaughter to Miz Moya, Kitty...Caitlin
please...Barston was married to a mover and shaker in the
City of Lights. She hadn't stepped foot in Alaska since
dropping out of college to marry Cain Barston eight years
ago. No way was she coming home to Cailkirn. Unlike Tack, her
former best friend and the fool who'd loved her too much
and too long, the petite redhead hated Alaska. She
especially despised life in the small town that her
parents had fought so hard to leave behind. "Yes, my niece." Miss Elspeth put her hands together as
if in prayer. "Kitty's coming home." Tack took a big gulp of tea and then choked as he tried
not to spit it out in shock at its scalding heat. Miss Elspeth was up patting his back before he realized
she'd crossed the kitchen. "Are you all right Tack? You
work too hard. You need to take a day off." He didn't mention that today, or at least that morning
was supposed to be exactly that. Doing so would be
churlish and there was something truly wrong about being
grumpy with a Grant sister. Even after she announced the
woman that had broken Tack's heart and abandoned their
friendship for the acceptance of people like Cain Barston
was coming home. Moving home. "What about Barston?" "She divorced him." There was something in Miss
Elspeth's tone. Grief. Anger. Satisfaction. It was all there. "I didn't realize they were having problems." "Well, it's not as if you listen to talk about her. You
practically run from the room when Kitty is mentioned." "I do not." Though probably? He did. She'd been the love of his life and she'd never seen him
as more than a disposable friend. "Well, that is neither here nor there. Kitty always said
everything was fine, but we could see there were
difficulties. She lost her spark, our Kitty. She also
lost so much weight she looked like a skeleton." Miss
Elspeth had maintained the trim figure of her Miss Alaska
days, but she'd never been rail thin like so many of the
women he'd met in Los Angeles. "That's not all that abnormal for LA, Miss Elspeth." He
didn't like the thought that Kitty's blue eyes had lost
their shine though. Her summer sky gaze, so different from his dark one, had
been the first thing his six year old self had noticed
about the new girl in school. Pale with tiny freckles,
she'd been so different than a boy who took his coloring
from his Inuit mother. He'd been mesmerized by that
difference and she'd never lost her fascination for him. Which was why he'd never allowed himself to stick around
when people were talking about her. The only way to
sever his Kitty addiction had been to cut off all ties to
her, just like she'd cut off all ties to him. "If you'd seen her, you wouldn't say that. When she
called from the hospital, she weighed ninety-three
pounds." Pain pierced Tack's heart, though he'd never acknowledge
it. "That can't be right." Sure Kitty had lost some weight once they moved to
California to attend USC, but she'd been healthy the last
time Tack saw her. Curves in all the right places, she
might have been a little thin for his taste. She'd still
turned him on like no other woman ever had. Kitty hadn't
been bone-protruding skinny by any stretch.
Miss Elspeth sat down with her own cup of tea, her
expression somber. "Our Kitty almost died and we weren't
there. Moya went though, after our girl called. She
stayed with Kitty for six weeks. You remember?" "Yes." It had been the previous winter. Despite her lifelong and very vocal lack of desire to
ever visit the Lower 48, Miz Moya had said she was going
south for the sunshine. Tack had thought it odd, but
chalked it up to the elderly woman missing her only
grandchild. "Kitty said that's why she'd had so many broken bones
over the last couple of years. They'd gotten brittle she
said." Miss Elspeth frowned. "Grant bones don't go
brittle. We're hardy stock. My grandfather lived to be
ninety and Gran another twelve years after that. Neither
had a single bone break in all those years." "Kitty broke something?" Tack asked in disbelief. She'd gotten into more scrapes as a kid, always taking
risks. He could remember the tumble she'd taken when
they'd been hiking on Resurrection Pass when they were
twelve. It had about stopped his heart, but she hadn't
so much as gotten a hairline fracture. "More than one something. She didn't break her wrist,
crack two of her ribs or her clavicle bone bumping into
walls, no matter how brittle her bones." Bile rose in Tack's throat. "Cain Barston beat her?" Elspeth's lips thinned in a sad line. "Kitty never said
so, but that man destroyed our girl." "She's coming home now, though." Tack just didn't
understand why, if it had been that bad, Kitty hadn't
come back a long time ago. Or at the very least last spring when a pretty subdued
Miz Moya had returned to Cailkirn. She'd stayed in
California another full year by his reckoning. Was her dislike for their small town life so strong she'd
rather live with a monster than come back to it? Miss Elspeth reached out and patted Tack's hand, her
smile belied by the tears sparkling in her faded blue
eyes. "You're right. She is moving home. And it's
going to be all right." Tack rose from the table and gave the older woman a
gentle but firm hug. "Of course it will." Tack had more doubts on that front than he'd had since
bringing his broken heart home to Cailkirn seven years
ago, but he wouldn't voice them. He'd transferred to Idaho State after the summer Kitty
got engaged to Cain Barston and graduated with a degree
in Outdoor Education two years later. He'd come home to
an offer from his father and Granddad MacKinnon to help
finance Tack's dream of starting a wilderness guide
business back in Cailkirn. Their only proviso had been he take Egan his brother into
the business as well, once he'd gotten training. Tack
had agreed without reservation. Even thought he was four
years younger, next to Kitty Grant, Egan had been Tack's
best friend. Kitty had dropped out of USC her junior year in favor of
her MRS and moved on to bigger and brighter things. Or so he'd thought. Tack could not believe the vibrant girl who had sparked
every one of his fantasies since his first sexual thought
had stayed with a man who abused her. That she'd let
herself get so dangerously underweight. He didn't know what had gone on in that marriage, but it
didn't sound like Kitty's plans to get away from their
small town had worked out the way she'd expected them to. Troubled, Tack left Miss Elspeth in her immaculately
clean kitchen after promising to return to the B&B for
dinner with the sisters that evening. It was their customary way of showing gratitude. Since
Miz Moya was one of the best cooks on the Kenai and Miss
Elspeth was equal in her baking, most Cailkirn residents
considered such an invitation a pretty nice thank you. Keyed up by the idea of returning to Cailkirn for the
first time in almost a decade, Caitlin walked behind Joey
and his mother toward baggage claim. When they arrived a huge man stepped forward stopping the
mother and son's progress. Like a lot of Alaskan men,
particular those who lived outside of the major cities,
he had facial hair. However, he had it neatly trimmed
close to his face. Even so, it was longer than the close
cropped beard and mustache Tack MacKinnon wore, which
looked like a perpetual five o'clock shadow, but was a
lot less bristly. The only beard Caitlin had ever found
appealing. And why she'd already started thinking about Tack,
Caitlin didn't know. She'd callously jettisoned the man
from her life, betraying years of friendship. She
doubted Tack would have the time of day for her anymore,
much less be interested in renewing their acquaintance. There would be no healing of that particular self-
inflicted wound in her heart. Considering how stomped on
and shredded that organ had been over the past years,
Kitty was surprised at the level of regret that thought
elicited in her. She'd pretty much decided her heart was beyond fixing.
And the last thing she needed was the vulnerability of
any kind of relationship, even friendship. Pushing aside her own disturbed thoughts, Caitlin
couldn't help noticing the way Joey and his mother
reacted to the man who was so clearly there to meet them.
Joey was staring up at the man in rapt fascination, but
his mother appeared as nauseated as she had on the plane,
her gaze shadowed by trepidation. "Is this my new daddy?" Joey asked with the keen interest
and innocence of a small boy. The man having the looks of a modern day Cossack, the
mother with the accent and delicate pale features of a
Southern belle and the little boy with short nappy hair
and skin the color of coffee with just a dash of cream,
the small family embodied the diversity so much a part of
her home state. The man stared down at the boy for several seconds of
tense silence. Then he addressed the woman. "Savannah
Marie?" "Yes." "You didn't say you had a child." "You didn't ask." He turned abruptly and started walking. Savannah's shoulder's slumped, the defeat in her posture
too familiar for Caitlin to ignore it. Not that she'd let her sense of despondency show like
this woman, but Caitlin had felt it too long and too
deeply not to recognize it in another human being. She reached out to touch Savannah's shoulder and offer
help, though heaven knew Caitlin wasn't anyone's idea of
a hero. However before her hand connected the man turned back
with a brusque, "Aren't you coming? You'll need to point
out your bags for me. We've got to get on the road. The
drive to Cailkirn from here isn't short." The Southern woman's sigh of relief and whispered, "Thank
God," got to Caitlin in a way that nothing else had in a
long time. Before she could talk herself out of it, she let her hand
fall on Savannah's shoulder, causing the other woman to
stop and turn to face Caitlin. "Pardon?" "You're going to Cailkirn?" Caitlin forced herself to
ask. The other woman's grey gaze reflected the mix of emotions
Caitlin had heard in her voice a moment ago as well as
confusion. "I think so?" Caitlin nodded. "Come on then. Let's get our bags.
We're going to the same place and I'm going to ask
your...friend," she settled on, uncertain what the
relationship was at this point. "Into giving me a ride." "Oh, I don't know..." "Don't worry. I won't take up a lot of room." Caitlin
winked, proud of herself for making the comment without
feeling the shame that usually accompanied any reference
to her body. "But—" "He won't mind. It's an Alaskan thing. Neighbors help
neighbors. Especially in the small towns, but nowhere
more than in Cailkirn." They reached the luggage carousel and the bearded man. "Caitlin Grant." She put her hand out to him. "I'm
headed to the Knit and Pearl B&B. I would really
appreciate a ride if you've got room." "Nikolai Vasov." He shook Caitlin's hand. "I know the
Grant sisters." Caitlin gave Nikolai the polite expression that she'd
perfected in her years with Cain. "I'm not surprised.
Most people in Cailkirn do." Her grandmother and great-aunts had lived in the small
town on the Kenai Peninsula their entire lives. With her
grandfather and Great-uncle Teddy gone, the three elderly
ladies shared the spacious Victorian house that had been
built on the original Grant homestead more than a hundred
years ago – after the family had amassed sufficient
wealth. As far as Caitlin knew, her Aunt Elspeth had never lived
anywhere else and her grandmother had lived in the Grant
home since her marriage to Uncle Ardal forty years ago.
Aunt Alma had moved back into the big house after Teddy
Winter's death a few years after the turn of the century. It was a couple of years after the oldest Grant sister
moved in that the sisters decided to turn the house into
a bed and breakfast. Caitlin had been preparing to go
away to college and her grandmother and aunts claimed
they needed something to keep them busy. "You are a relation?" Nikolai asked. "Moya is my grandmother." Caitlin didn’t recognize
Nikolai, but he looked a little like the Vasov boy who
had been a couple of years ahead of her and Tack in
school. "Are you related to Alexi Vasov?" "He's my cousin." She nodded, vaguely remembering talk about Alexi's uncle.
Peder Vasov had left Cailkirn right after high school
just like Caitlin's parents. Somehow, both their
children had ended up back in the town settled by Scots
and Russians, integrating a small Inuit village along the
way to incorporated town status. Sudden clarity washed over Nikolai's expression. "You
are Kitty. You grew up in Cailkirn." "Since I was six, yes." Since the devastating death of
both her parents. "Gran Moya and her sisters raised me.
Uncle Teddy too." His death had hurt almost as much as that of her parents. Every single one of her older caregivers had loved
Cailkirn with a passion she'd never been able to match. The only thing Caitlin had ever wanted was to get out.
Out of Cailkirn. Out of Alaska. Away from the pain of
loss she associated with living there. She'd made it, only to learn that the world outside was
cruel and demoralizing. Nikolai had the look of a man who might have figured that
out too, even if he'd originally called the Lower 48
home. He nodded his head abruptly. "We'll make room for you." He didn't ask how much luggage she had. It wasn't the
Cailkirn way. He might not have been born there, but
he'd apparently lived there long enough to learn it. Caitlin turned to Savannah and her son. "I should
introduce myself to you too, I think. I'm Caitlin Grant
and you can find me at the Knit & Pearl Bed and
Breakfast. You and your son will always be welcome." Though she was probably the last woman who should be
trying to offer hope and help to someone else, Caitlin
couldn't seem to stop herself. "I'm Joseph, but everybody calls me Joey," the little
dark-haired boy offered while his mother stood in
apparent shock. Caitlin shook his hand and didn't tell him she'd heard
his name on the plane. "It's very nice to meet you,
Joseph. I'll call you Joey if you like." "Yes." He stared at his mom, clearly waiting for her to
say something. The other woman offered her hand. "My name is
Savannah..." she cast a sidelong glance at Nickolai. He gazed back, his expression impenetrable. Savannah took a deep breath. "Vasov. I'm Savannah
Vasov." Caitlin schooled her features not to show her shock. She
hadn't heard of a proxy marriage since she was a
teenager, but what else could this be? With Nikolai not
knowing about Joey and Savannah showing such uncertainty
about the use of her last name. In a state where the male population outnumbered females
of marriageable age especially, long distance
relationships were not uncommon. Marriages brought about
through a third party weren't unheard of either. Heck, they happened in the Lower 48 too. The dot.com
matchmaking entities were an ingrained part of American
life now. Entire reality shows were dedicated to the
concept of matchmaking and selective pool dating with the
endgame being a marriage. Proxy marriages were a lot less common though, to the
point of being almost unheard of. Oh, they happened,
most commonly among active duty military though. They were only legal in six states, California being one
of them – which explained how Savannah and Nik had
managed to marry by proxy. It wasn't a legal practice
for an Alaskan based marriage ceremony. Though foreign brides marrying American men by proxy was
still an active practice. Caitlin had known more than
one beautiful Eastern European or Asian woman back in LA
who had married her wealthy, but otherwise unremarkable
middle aged husband, by proxy. It had worked out
beautifully for some and not so well for others. But then Caitlin's marriage had been its own horror
story. She was the last person to judge another woman
for the criteria by which she made her choices. Regardless, the strong suspicion that Savannah had agreed
to such an arrangement only told Caitlin how desperate
the other woman had to have been.
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