Against the Wild (4 page)

“I'm sure it is,” Dylan said, hoping to change the subject. Up here, there was always some Indian myth or legend to deal with. He didn't need to hear it from Lane, too.

“Those are Chilkat blankets,” Caleb explained. “And the hats are made of roots.”

“That's interesting. I've never seen a totem pole, but there was one in the dream. It had a raven on top.”

Caleb's fork paused halfway to his lips.

“When I told you about Yeil,” Dylan said, “I mentioned the word meant raven.”

“Yes, I'm sure that's it.”

“What color was the raven?” Caleb asked.

“Red and black. There were animals and different images underneath. They were very stylized. I don't really know what they were supposed to be.”

Caleb's black eyes zeroed in on Dylan. “Did you show her the cemetery?” he asked, and Dylan wanted to kick him.

“No.”

“What cemetery?” Lane asked.

“The old Indian cemetery up on the hill,” Caleb said. “Maybe you saw it when the plane circled over the lodge.”

“I don't think so, but I might have. Why? Is that the place I dreamed about?”

“No,” Dylan said.

“Could be,” said Caleb. “There's a totem pole up there. The colors are pretty much washed away after so many years, but there's a raven on the top and I think it was originally painted red and black.”

Dylan set his fork down beside his plate. “You probably saw it from the plane and didn't realize you had. It's just a coincidence.”

“Yes, I'm sure you're right. It's kind of odd, though.”

The subject changed, shifted toward the remodel of the lodge, and Dylan finally relaxed. They finished the meal in easy conversation, and everyone stood up from the table.

“Are you sure I can't help?” Lane asked.

Winnie just smiled. “I have a job to do and so do you. I'm sure you'll have plenty to keep you busy without volunteering for extra work.”

Lane smiled and nodded. It was a little after nine, but the sun still hadn't set. “Did you get that box of samples I shipped?” she asked as he guided her out of the kitchen.

“They're in my office. It's down the hall from Winnie's quarters. There's a computer in there. Satellite feed to the Internet. You won't be out of touch.”

“That's great. I brought my laptop. I use it for my design work, but I wasn't expecting to be able to connect.”

“I want this place to feel like a home away from home.”

Lane smiled. “Way away, from what I can see.”

“That's why people come to Alaska. They want a wilderness experience. Here at the Eagle Bay Lodge, they'll get one.”

She looked up at him with those big green eyes, and Dylan felt the kick. When they paused in front of the door to the office, he reached up and touched her cheek. “I'd really like to kiss you, but I know it's too soon.”

Lane backed away. “We don't . . . don't even know each other.”

“Not yet. In time, we will.”

She didn't respond, but he could see her mind spinning, trying to work things out.

“I-I'm still kind of tired. If you don't mind, I think I'll bring Finn in and go up to bed.”

Just the word
bed
made him start to get hard. “All right.” She was still a little afraid of him, he could see, maybe a little afraid of herself. He needed to give her time. He had known that from the start.

“The power can be kind of sporadic,” he said. “There's a reading light in your room, and a flashlight if you need it.”

“I suppose you have to be prepared up here. I hadn't thought much about how hard it could be to live in a place like this. I guess I really am a city girl.”

He chuckled. “Doesn't make you a bad person.”

She smiled.

“Good night, Lane. I'll see you in the morning.” He started to turn away, stopped at the sound of her voice.

“You're daughter's beautiful, Dylan.”

His insides tightened. He just nodded and started walking.

In the morning, when Lane went downstairs, Dylan's plane was gone and so was he.

“He went to Waterside for supplies,” Caleb said as he approached. He had the softest way of walking, so quiet she looked down to see if he was wearing moccasins, then inwardly laughed at herself when she saw his heavy leather boots.

“The boxes of samples you shipped are in the office,” he said. “Dylan figured you could set up your stuff and work till he gets back.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Caleb turned to leave.

“I was wondering . . . if you aren't too busy, could you walk me up to the cemetery? I want to see if the totem pole looks like the one in my dream.”

“All right, but Dylan won't like it.”

“Why not?”

“Because when he bought this place there were all kinds of rumors about it, stuff to do with Indian legends and . . . things.”

“What things?”

“I don't know exactly. Some people died. No one talks much about it. Up here, no one asks. Everyone pretty much minds his own business.”

“But people died on the property?”

“The place has been here more than eighty years, Lane. People live hard lives up here. Everyone dies sooner or later.”

“True enough.”

“You still want to see it?”

“If you wouldn't mind.”

He shrugged his thick shoulders and started walking. He was a few inches shorter than Dylan and more muscular than lean. With his shiny black hair and black eyes, he was handsome. She liked that he seemed to respect whatever claim Dylan had on her and didn't come onto her the way a lot of men would.

They went out through the mudroom into the side yard. The fence looked remarkably new, and she wondered if Dylan had enclosed it specifically for the dog he'd known she was bringing. She smiled to think of the surprise he had gotten when he had first seen Finn.

The dog ran up to her, head cocked, panting a little, excitement clear in his doggy eyes. Finn loved the place already. Her yard in Beverly Hills wasn't large. Finn had a sort of freedom here he had never experienced before.

He gave a single low woof as he trotted along beside them. “Yes, you get to go.” She rubbed his ears. “Caleb is taking us for a walk.”

Caleb chuckled. “That's some dog.”

Lane grinned. “He is, isn't he?”

“It's good he's big. He'll be able to take care of himself if he runs into trouble.”

She stopped. “What kind of trouble?”

“Bears. Wolves. Moose. This is Alaska, you know.”

She tugged on the retractable leash, pulling him in a little closer. Caleb just smiled. They walked in silence for a while, through the forest toward a sloping hill. Behind it, the mountains grew steeper, became a snow-capped range.

“It's over there,” Caleb said, pointing in that direction.

Lane spotted a small area on the hillside enclosed by a weathered picket fence with several sections falling down. Inside were remnants of wooden grave markers, and in a front corner, a totem pole that listed slightly to one side and stood maybe fifteen feet high.

All of the wood was weather-beaten. If the fence or markers had once been painted, none of it remained. She wandered toward the markers. Only a few had dates she could read. The oldest was 1896. The most recent, 1934.

“There was a Native village on a plateau about a quarter of a mile from here,” Caleb said. “It was abandoned shortly after the lodge was built, and the people moved to Yeil. At least that's what I heard.”

She walked over to the totem pole. “That's a raven at the top, isn't it?”

“That's the symbol for it, yes.”

There was still a little faded color on the pole. “It was red and black.”

“Looks like it.”

She felt a little chill. “Does it mean anything special?”

“According to Tlingit legend, the raven was the creator. There are dozens of stories about him—some are serious, some humorous. This pole was a memorial to the dead. It's probably carved out of red cedar. That's all I know.”

“It looks like the one in my dream.”

“Does it? Maybe you'll have another dream and you can figure out the message.”

Lane shook her head. “I hope not.”

“Yeah, I don't like that stuff much, either.”

They walked back toward the house. By the time they got there, Dylan had returned.

“I was beginning to worry,” he said, casting a dark look at Caleb.

“I took Finn for a walk,” Lane told him. “Caleb went along to look out for us.”

Dylan's mouth edged into a reluctant smile. “You're a terrible liar. You conned him into taking you up to the cemetery, right?”

She grinned. “It was interesting.”

“Was it the totem pole in your dream?”

“Maybe, but I'm sure I saw it from the plane.”

“Must have.” Setting a hand at her waist, he started guiding her back to the house. They left Finn in his new favorite place, the fenced-in side yard. Caleb and Dylan went up to check on the work being done in the guest wing while Lane spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking her samples and taking measurements, doing her best not to think of Dylan.

She wondered again about the raven on the totem pole she had seen and the cemetery and the legends surrounding the lodge. Wondered who might have died there.

 

 

Dylan worked with his crew until supper. The replacement of the upstairs plumbing in the guest wing had nearly been completed. It was up to Lane to choose the bathroom fixtures—within a budget they were still discussing. With that thought in mind, he headed downstairs in search of her.

He figured she was probably in the office, where she had disappeared after the meal. He'd set aside half the room for her use, and she seemed to be making the most of it, spreading the samples she'd had shipped over every available surface.

He found her bent over the desk, examining fabric swatches. Her jeans weren't that snug, but they nicely outlined her curves and made him think of sex. Which, with Lane around, wasn't that tough to do.

She glanced up as he walked through the door and their eyes met. He could almost feel the heat arcing between them.

Lane looked away first. “You're still working?” she asked.

“The last of the crew took off. We're finished for the day. How about you?”

“I was just fooling around with some colors. I had a couple of ideas in mind for the project before I left L.A., but now that I'm here, I've started thinking in a new direction.”

“Such as?”

“Log homes, places like this up in the Northwest, most of them are full of animal heads and bearskin rugs, that kind of thing. In fact there are some of those here now.”

“And you'd want to get rid of them?”

“Not all of them. It's a lodge. It needs to feel like one. You want your guests to experience Alaska, but it should also feel unique and a little sophisticated.”

“Go on.”

“It was built in the thirties, right?”

“Around that time. Started a little earlier but finished in the early thirties, or so I'm told.”

“That was the Art Deco period. It was an elegant time. I was thinking maybe we could use some of that elegance here, yet keep the rustic lodge feel.”

Uncertainty rolled through him. “I don't know. . . . That sounds a little too Hollywood for me.”

“Don't jump to conclusions. Have you ever been to the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite?”

He shook his head. “'Fraid not.”

Lane walked over to the laptop she had brought with her, which was open and sitting on her worktable. He'd shown her how to access the Internet through his satellite link, password EagleBay123.

“Let me show you what it looks like.” Seating herself, she tapped the keyboard and pulled up photos, and his interest sharpened.

High ceilings and heavy wooden crossbeams. Lots of stone and plenty of windows. It was rustic, but there were touches of Art Deco here and there that added a certain elegance. He had to admit it was impressive.

“It's a beautiful place,” he said.

“It was built around the same time as the lodge. Eagle Bay won't look the same because it has a character all its own. I just wanted you to see how it could work when you put the different pieces together.”

“How'd you come up with the concept?”

“I noticed the wall sconces along the upstairs hallway. They're from the thirties, and I liked how well they seemed to fit. And I love the chandelier in the entry. It's big and heavy. We need a couple more like it, one for the great hall and one for the dining area. I have a contact in Mexico who does wrought-iron work for me. If I send him photos and measurements, he can match it exactly.”

Dylan frowned. “That sounds expensive. I wasn't figuring on having things custom-made.”

“It's Mexico, remember? Work is done fairly cheaply down there. It's more about the time it'll take to get it finished. And shipping it up here could be a problem, but I don't think it'll cost all that much.”

“We're going to need a budget. That's one of the reasons I came looking for you.”

“I've been working on it. I know you want the lodge to be first-rate, but I don't imagine you want to run up some ungodly bill, either.”

“You got that right.” He was glad to know they were on the same page.

“You have some lovely old furniture around. I'm planning to use as much of it as I can. We might need to refinish some of it. We'll need new sofas and chairs, lamps, carpets, draperies. I want to keep the look and feel of the place mostly the way it is, just add some interest and make it all seem new again.”

He liked what she was saying. It matched the thoughts he'd had about the lodge. He could feel her excitement, the energy that seemed so much a part of her. He wanted to reach out and touch her, let some of that energy flow into him.

Taking her hand, he pulled her up out of her chair and into his arms, bent his head to kiss her. At the last second, Lane turned away.

“I need time, Dylan.” Her hands trembled where they rested against his chest. She eased out of his arms, but her gaze remained on his face. “I won't deny I'm . . . I'm attracted to you. But I'm not ready to jump in bed with you.”

“You can have all the time you want. I won't push you. But when I see the same heat in your eyes I know you see in mine, don't expect me not to act on it.”

Color crept into her face, which only confirmed he'd been right. She wanted him, too.

“I came here to do a job,” she said. “Beyond that, I'm not sure what's going to happen.”

“I think you know what's going to happen. I think we both do.” Lane had traveled two thousand miles to come to Alaska, and he didn't believe for a minute it was only for the job. “But I won't rush you. Not if you aren't ready.” He gently touched her cheek. “You don't have to be afraid of me, Lane. I'd never do anything you didn't want me to do.”

Lane nodded, seemed relieved. “It's been a long day. I think I'll bring Finn in and head upstairs.”

“I've got to go to Waterside tomorrow. A delivery I've been waiting for came in. Would you like to go along?”

Her features brightened. “I'd love to. What time?”

“After breakfast.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Did I mention town's only fifteen minutes away?”

Lane laughed. “I believe you did. I'll see you in the morning.”

Dylan watched her walk away. He was giving her time, but time wasn't something they had a lot of, and he didn't want to waste it. But, aside from their attraction, she was there to do a job and he intended to let her do it.

Still, he couldn't help wishing she'd be spending the night in his bed—instead of alone in the room next door.

 

 

Lane left Dylan in his office and headed down the hall to get Finn. Her insides were still trembling. He'd almost kissed her. And God, she'd wanted him to. But part of her wasn't ready to move in that direction. She hadn't been with a man since Jason. She needed time to sort things out, prepare herself.

It was dark as she shoved through the door, just a sliver of moon drifting across the sky. Tall pine trees cast shadows across the ground. A faint breeze rustled the needles on the branches.

“Finn! Come on, boy!” She clapped her hands. “Finn, where are you?”

She clapped her hands again, but there was still no sign of him. “Finn! Finn, come here, boy!” Her pulse kicked up as fear snaked through her.
Bears, wolves, moose.
Dear God, had some wild animal gotten through the fence, or had he dug out somehow? It wasn't like him to run away.

Turning, she raced back into the house for a flashlight, saw Dylan striding down the hall.

“Finn's missing! It's too dark to see, but I don't think he's in the yard. I've got to find him!”

He caught her shoulders as she reached him. “Take it easy. He's upstairs with Emily.”

She relaxed against him. “Thank God.”

“I went upstairs to check on her and there was Finn, sleeping on her bed.”

“I'd better go get him. I didn't mean for him to cause any trouble.”

Dylan just smiled. “He's fine. Emily must have brought him in.”

They went up the back stairs together. When Dylan opened the bedroom door, Emily was fast asleep, Finn sprawled across the mattress at her feet. Spotting Lane, the dog raised his head, jumped down, and trotted over to where she stood in the doorway.

“You aren't supposed to be any trouble,” she scolded, but she was glad to see him, which he seemed to know.

“Maybe I should get her a dog,” Dylan said. “Maybe it would help.”

Lane smiled. “Well, she's got Finn now. I'm happy to share him.”

Dylan caught her hand and brought it to his lips, and a delicious little tremor went through her.