North Country Mom. Lois Richer

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      Chapter Two

      Painful prickles woke Jack around three-thirty. He tried to shift his sleeping arm but a weight held him down. Waking more fully, he peered through the darkness at the woman whose head rested against his shoulder.

      She reminded him of the Indian maiden in that show Giselle used to love when she was little. Pocahontas. Only Alicia Featherstone was prettier. Those high, defined cheekbones and straight, proud nose proclaimed her Native Canadian ancestry. Her hair, almost black as a raven’s wing, was bound in thick braids and tied at the ends by strings of leather woven with turquoise beads. Thick bangs fringed her broad forehead ending just above arched black eyebrows.

      Though her eyes were closed, he knew they were a rich espresso that turned black when she was upset. Lush lashes rested on dusky cheekbones. Her full lips pursed as she gave a tiny shiver and shifted her head to a more comfortable position against his shoulder.

      Alicia wore no rings. She’d said she was single, which Laurel had told him in passing. His sister had also mentioned that Alicia had planned a big summer project for the Lives Under Construction boys—building a sod house like the Cree Indians would have used when the first settlers came to Churchill. As soon as Laurel had been certain he was moving to Churchill, she’d asked Jack to help.

      Alicia doesn’t know the meaning of overdoing, his sister had told him. Nothing stops her from giving her all. She’s what Mom used to call a giver. She thinks she can accomplish anything she sets her mind to.

      Not a bad thing to believe. He’d hidden his chagrin at Laurel’s request. You think she’s in over her head?

      No, but a whole house? It’s too much for her. I know you and Simone volunteered with the restoration work on that sod building at the museum in Vancouver. You must have picked up some knowledge. Laurel had pinned him with her gaze. The boys are really looking forward to this, Jack. They’re planning a community celebration when it’s finished, to show off their handiwork. You’ll help Alicia, won’t you?

      If I have time, Jack had finally agreed. Running the hotel is going to be a steep learning curve, sis. It’s not something I’ve ever done.

      It won’t be like running a big-city hotel. Laurel had chuckled. Anyway Teddy will be here for the whole summer to help. He’s grooming his son to take over his hotel empire. Teddy wants to give him time to manage on his own. With an expert like him to teach you, you’ll have lots of time for Alicia.

      That’s when Jack had noticed something in his sister’s voice, something that he had to nip in the bud.

      Don’t matchmake, Laurel, he’d warned. Don’t even consider it. I’m not interested in anyone. At all. Ever.

      Ever? Laurel had smiled sympathetically. I know Simone’s death hit both you and Giselle hard. Give it a little more time.

      More time? For what? It felt as if he’d barely survived the past two years. Jack was pretty sure more time wouldn’t heal the gaping hole in his heart. Simone had been his high school sweetheart. They’d done everything together. They’d been soul mates. That only happened once in a lifetime and God had ended it.

      Now Giselle would be the focus of his world.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crush you.” The soft apology broke through his thoughts as Alicia jerked away. Cool air chilled his arm where her warm cheek had rested. Her face bore a flush of embarrassment. “Please excuse me.”

      “No problem.” He rotated his shoulder, trying to ignore her scrutiny through the shadows. It didn’t work. He subconsciously noticed every detail about her. Not because he was interested, he told himself. Just a habit left over from his law-enforcement days.

      “Are you all right?” she whispered.

      “I’m not used to sitting so long.” His nose twitched at the scent she wore. He’d noticed it earlier. Something dried and earthy, like an herb. Sage? “Are you full-blooded Cree?”

      “Yes.” She looked a bit surprised at his sudden question but didn’t volunteer any more. Instead, she averted her eyes as if hiding something.

      “Where do your parents live?” Why did he feel compelled to learn more about her?

      “They died when I was thirteen.” Alicia faced him, her eyes darkening to black diamonds. “My dad was a pilot. They were returning from visiting a friend up north when their plane crashed. I was sent to live in Vancouver with a distant relative.” Her gaze challenged him. Any other questions?

      “I didn’t mean to pry,” he apologized.

      “It’s not a secret. Anyone in Churchill could have told you the same thing,” she said.

      But Jack was pretty sure they couldn’t tell him any other details about Alicia Featherstone. According to Laurel, she kept to herself. He guessed most people respected the resolute barriers she wore like shields.

      “Can I ask you a question?” Alicia murmured.

      “I guess.” He waited warily, hoping she didn’t have the wrong impression. Alicia was very pretty but he wasn’t interested.

      Liar.

      “What’s with the boots?” Her gaze fell to his feet.

      “You don’t like them?” Jack held out one foot, admiring the feel of the supple leather snuggled against his toes without pinching.

      “They’re great. Very, uh, pretty.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s just that you don’t strike me as the pretty type.”

      “Thanks.” Jack smothered his chuckle when she dipped her head. “It’s not about fashion. I do—did,” he corrected gloomily, “a lot of work on my feet. I decided early on that I wasn’t going to be a literal flatfoot so I bought good shoes.”

      “You do realize they’ll be ruined in Churchill?” she warned. “You must have noticed on previous visits that we only have pavement in some places. Other streets are gravel. The worst roads around town are dirt. If you wear those on the beach, the stones will poke through the soles and you’ll suffer a lot worse than flat feet.” She thrust СКАЧАТЬ