Alaskan Holiday
Page 6
“He should have let me do the asking,” I heard Jack say, as I quickly headed back to my room.
“Josie, be sure to put your suitcases in the lobby before you head to bed,” Jerry called after me.
I nodded, though I was in such a hurry I doubt anyone saw.
CHAPTER 3
Josie
I woke in the dark, warm and comfortable. Stretching my arms above my head, I yawned, surprised the alarm hadn’t woken me, especially since I’d spent a miserable night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
The last time I’d looked at the clock, it was close to three in the morning, and I had only two and a half hours to get some sleep before I had to be up to catch the ferry. My head was spinning after Palmer had proposed, and I couldn’t get to sleep. So I crawled out of bed and took one of those aspirins that had a sleeping aid in it. Quite honestly, it had surprised me that I’d managed to fall asleep at all, even with that bit of help. Rolling over, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and froze.
I looked again and blinked hard.
8:30 a.m.
That couldn’t be right. No possible way.
The ferry was scheduled to leave Ponder at six this morning. Throwing off the covers, I jumped out of bed and flung open the door to my room.
“Marianne!” I shouted.
My voice echoed down the hallway and returned to me, empty. The lodge was eerily silent. They couldn’t have left without me—Marianne and Jerry wouldn’t do that to me. They knew I had to be back in Seattle for my new job.
I raced into the kitchen, certain I’d find them drinking coffee and making jokes about me oversleeping. If not the Brewsters, then someone must have stayed behind. Anyone.
But the kitchen was dark, cold, and, worst of all…vacant.
My heart was pounding like war drums by the time I returned to my room. Before going to bed, I’d purposefully laid out my traveling clothes next to my packed suitcases and carefully set my alarm.
My alarm. Had I forgotten to set my alarm? No, of course not. I wouldn’t forget something like that. I remembered doing it. I grabbed my phone to verify that I had it set to wake me, and instantly realized my mistake. I’d set it, all right. For five-thirty in the afternoon, instead of the morning.
Groaning, I quickly got dressed in my jeans and sweatshirt and raced around the lodge, my heart in my throat, looking for…I didn’t know what I was looking for. Maybe some sort of evidence that I hadn’t been abandoned and left behind.
It took several minutes before I found the note Marianne had left me.
Josie,
I repeatedly knocked on your door, but there was no answer, and you hadn’t brought out your suitcases, so I assumed you’d had a change of heart about accepting Palmer’s proposal and decided to stay in Ponder after all.
Congratulations from the bottom of our hearts! Jerry and I wish you both every bit of happiness. Count on working for us next season, as we would love to have you back.
Marianne
She’d wrongly assumed that I had decided to ditch the opportunity of a lifetime to work with the chef of my dreams. She believed I’d stayed behind to marry Palmer.
Was she nuts? Or was I?
As drawn as I was to Palmer, I couldn’t marry him. I’d stayed up half the night going over every conceivable way to make our relationship work and I couldn’t think of one. Yet Marianne had apparently believed that I had second thoughts. That sleep aid had worked its dark magic, and I’d never heard Marianne knock on my door.
A sob rose up in my throat. I’d been left behind. Abandoned.
The ferry that had departed this very morning was the last one out of Ponder until next spring. The last to travel across Caribou Lake before it froze over for the long Alaskan winter.
Panic filled me as I grabbed my jacket and shot out of the lodge, racing to the dock, hoping against hope that I wasn’t too late. My footsteps echoed through the morning stillness as dawn broke over the horizon. By the time I reached the water, my heart was pounding in my throat. Bending forward, I placed my hands on my hips and stared into the distance. As far as the eye could see was water. There wasn’t even a ripple on the lake, letting me know that it had been a long time since the boat had left the dock. Ice had already started to form against the lake’s edge, and to complicate everything, it had started to snow.
Not knowing what else to do, I returned to the lodge and my room. I sank onto the end of my bed and struggled to hold back tears while I reviewed my options, of which there seemed to be shockingly few. This was Palmer’s fault.
Looking to place the blame fully on his shoulders, I headed out the door once more and practically ran to his cabin, eager to confront him for causing this fiasco. His workshop was attached to the house and I let myself in without knocking, not that he was likely to hear me with all the noise in his shop. Hobo’s bed was in the corner of the room. He lifted his head when I stepped inside but then lowered his chin to his paw as if he’d been expecting me all along.
I found Palmer pounding away on a red-hot blade of steel, what looked like a long sword, worthy of a Japanese warrior. I’d never met a swordsmith before Palmer and had found his work fascinating. Over the last six months, I’d spent a lot of time in his workshop and learned a lot about what he did. He was a true artist.
Stopping just inside the door to catch my breath, I noticed Palmer had on a work shirt. Even without the sleeves rolled up, I could see the bulging muscles of his upper arms. He loved what he did, and from what the Brewsters had told me, he was one of the best in the country. His swordsmith work was highly sought by people all around the world. Because Palmer was passionate about his craft, I felt that he, of all people, would understand why I couldn’t give up this opportunity to work with Chef Anton. There had to be a way to get back to Seattle. If not, I didn’t know what I was going to do.
It took him a minute to notice me. When he did, he froze, his hammer raised. At first all he did was stare at me. Setting the hammer aside, he shifted the protective eyewear to the top of his head, his face beginning to glow as a slow smile came over it.
“You stayed,” he said, in a voice that told me he found it hard to believe I was still in Ponder.
“No, I didn’t stay,” I insisted, overwhelmed by my predicament.
Palmer blinked and frowned before I realized what I’d said.
“Not by choice, that is,” I quickly amended.
His brow folded into a deep frown. “Are you saying you haven’t changed your mind about marrying me?”
“I overslept and missed the boat, and furthermore,” I said, struggling not to weep, “this is all your fault.”
“Mine?”
“You had to ruin everything and propose. You had to know that my heart would say yes and that my head would say no, and now…now you need to help me get to Seattle.” The least Palmer could do was find me a way out of Ponder.
He kept staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Why is it my fault that you missed the ferry?”
“You proposed…and I couldn’t sleep…then I took an aspirin with a sleep aid…When I did…I didn’t hear anything…Marianne’s note said she knocked…but I didn’t wake up.”
Palmer said nothing and continued to look at me. He seemed to be expecting more of an explanation.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Does your hair always look like that in the morning?”
I hadn’t taken time to brush it, and I probably looked like someone who’d crawled out of a deep, dark cave. Not that I cared, and besides, Palmer should realize now wasn’t the time to point that out.
“Palmer Saxon, is that all you have to say to me? My life is in Seattle and I need you to find a way to get me there.”
He continued to stare at me like I’d lost my mind. “I don’t know what you think I could do.”
“I need to get back to Seattle,” I fairly shouted at him. There had to be a way, and he was the only person I knew who could help me. The restaurant would be opening in only two weeks and I was supposed to be there to get everything organized. This was my entire future—my life.
He shrugged. “I wish I could help you, Josie, I really do, but the ferry left, and that was the last one of the season.”
“Josie, be sure to put your suitcases in the lobby before you head to bed,” Jerry called after me.
I nodded, though I was in such a hurry I doubt anyone saw.
CHAPTER 3
Josie
I woke in the dark, warm and comfortable. Stretching my arms above my head, I yawned, surprised the alarm hadn’t woken me, especially since I’d spent a miserable night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
The last time I’d looked at the clock, it was close to three in the morning, and I had only two and a half hours to get some sleep before I had to be up to catch the ferry. My head was spinning after Palmer had proposed, and I couldn’t get to sleep. So I crawled out of bed and took one of those aspirins that had a sleeping aid in it. Quite honestly, it had surprised me that I’d managed to fall asleep at all, even with that bit of help. Rolling over, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and froze.
I looked again and blinked hard.
8:30 a.m.
That couldn’t be right. No possible way.
The ferry was scheduled to leave Ponder at six this morning. Throwing off the covers, I jumped out of bed and flung open the door to my room.
“Marianne!” I shouted.
My voice echoed down the hallway and returned to me, empty. The lodge was eerily silent. They couldn’t have left without me—Marianne and Jerry wouldn’t do that to me. They knew I had to be back in Seattle for my new job.
I raced into the kitchen, certain I’d find them drinking coffee and making jokes about me oversleeping. If not the Brewsters, then someone must have stayed behind. Anyone.
But the kitchen was dark, cold, and, worst of all…vacant.
My heart was pounding like war drums by the time I returned to my room. Before going to bed, I’d purposefully laid out my traveling clothes next to my packed suitcases and carefully set my alarm.
My alarm. Had I forgotten to set my alarm? No, of course not. I wouldn’t forget something like that. I remembered doing it. I grabbed my phone to verify that I had it set to wake me, and instantly realized my mistake. I’d set it, all right. For five-thirty in the afternoon, instead of the morning.
Groaning, I quickly got dressed in my jeans and sweatshirt and raced around the lodge, my heart in my throat, looking for…I didn’t know what I was looking for. Maybe some sort of evidence that I hadn’t been abandoned and left behind.
It took several minutes before I found the note Marianne had left me.
Josie,
I repeatedly knocked on your door, but there was no answer, and you hadn’t brought out your suitcases, so I assumed you’d had a change of heart about accepting Palmer’s proposal and decided to stay in Ponder after all.
Congratulations from the bottom of our hearts! Jerry and I wish you both every bit of happiness. Count on working for us next season, as we would love to have you back.
Marianne
She’d wrongly assumed that I had decided to ditch the opportunity of a lifetime to work with the chef of my dreams. She believed I’d stayed behind to marry Palmer.
Was she nuts? Or was I?
As drawn as I was to Palmer, I couldn’t marry him. I’d stayed up half the night going over every conceivable way to make our relationship work and I couldn’t think of one. Yet Marianne had apparently believed that I had second thoughts. That sleep aid had worked its dark magic, and I’d never heard Marianne knock on my door.
A sob rose up in my throat. I’d been left behind. Abandoned.
The ferry that had departed this very morning was the last one out of Ponder until next spring. The last to travel across Caribou Lake before it froze over for the long Alaskan winter.
Panic filled me as I grabbed my jacket and shot out of the lodge, racing to the dock, hoping against hope that I wasn’t too late. My footsteps echoed through the morning stillness as dawn broke over the horizon. By the time I reached the water, my heart was pounding in my throat. Bending forward, I placed my hands on my hips and stared into the distance. As far as the eye could see was water. There wasn’t even a ripple on the lake, letting me know that it had been a long time since the boat had left the dock. Ice had already started to form against the lake’s edge, and to complicate everything, it had started to snow.
Not knowing what else to do, I returned to the lodge and my room. I sank onto the end of my bed and struggled to hold back tears while I reviewed my options, of which there seemed to be shockingly few. This was Palmer’s fault.
Looking to place the blame fully on his shoulders, I headed out the door once more and practically ran to his cabin, eager to confront him for causing this fiasco. His workshop was attached to the house and I let myself in without knocking, not that he was likely to hear me with all the noise in his shop. Hobo’s bed was in the corner of the room. He lifted his head when I stepped inside but then lowered his chin to his paw as if he’d been expecting me all along.
I found Palmer pounding away on a red-hot blade of steel, what looked like a long sword, worthy of a Japanese warrior. I’d never met a swordsmith before Palmer and had found his work fascinating. Over the last six months, I’d spent a lot of time in his workshop and learned a lot about what he did. He was a true artist.
Stopping just inside the door to catch my breath, I noticed Palmer had on a work shirt. Even without the sleeves rolled up, I could see the bulging muscles of his upper arms. He loved what he did, and from what the Brewsters had told me, he was one of the best in the country. His swordsmith work was highly sought by people all around the world. Because Palmer was passionate about his craft, I felt that he, of all people, would understand why I couldn’t give up this opportunity to work with Chef Anton. There had to be a way to get back to Seattle. If not, I didn’t know what I was going to do.
It took him a minute to notice me. When he did, he froze, his hammer raised. At first all he did was stare at me. Setting the hammer aside, he shifted the protective eyewear to the top of his head, his face beginning to glow as a slow smile came over it.
“You stayed,” he said, in a voice that told me he found it hard to believe I was still in Ponder.
“No, I didn’t stay,” I insisted, overwhelmed by my predicament.
Palmer blinked and frowned before I realized what I’d said.
“Not by choice, that is,” I quickly amended.
His brow folded into a deep frown. “Are you saying you haven’t changed your mind about marrying me?”
“I overslept and missed the boat, and furthermore,” I said, struggling not to weep, “this is all your fault.”
“Mine?”
“You had to ruin everything and propose. You had to know that my heart would say yes and that my head would say no, and now…now you need to help me get to Seattle.” The least Palmer could do was find me a way out of Ponder.
He kept staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Why is it my fault that you missed the ferry?”
“You proposed…and I couldn’t sleep…then I took an aspirin with a sleep aid…When I did…I didn’t hear anything…Marianne’s note said she knocked…but I didn’t wake up.”
Palmer said nothing and continued to look at me. He seemed to be expecting more of an explanation.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Does your hair always look like that in the morning?”
I hadn’t taken time to brush it, and I probably looked like someone who’d crawled out of a deep, dark cave. Not that I cared, and besides, Palmer should realize now wasn’t the time to point that out.
“Palmer Saxon, is that all you have to say to me? My life is in Seattle and I need you to find a way to get me there.”
He continued to stare at me like I’d lost my mind. “I don’t know what you think I could do.”
“I need to get back to Seattle,” I fairly shouted at him. There had to be a way, and he was the only person I knew who could help me. The restaurant would be opening in only two weeks and I was supposed to be there to get everything organized. This was my entire future—my life.
He shrugged. “I wish I could help you, Josie, I really do, but the ferry left, and that was the last one of the season.”
