Sharing Spaces (15 page)

 

S
ENNA SKIPPED BREAKFAST
because she couldn't stand the thought of sitting at that table with Wavey and struggling to eat Gordina's awful fare while Jack fixed her with that cool, sardonic stare of his. So instead she jumped right into the first thing on her agenda, which involved firing up the diesel generator, switching on the computer and entering each and every reservation written into the book, a job that would take most of the morning. She was sitting in the reception area doing this when the satellite phone rang.

“Wolf River Lodge, this is Senna speaking. How may I help you?”

“Senna?”

“Tim?” Senna wondered how long this agony was going to go on. “How on earth did you get this number?”

“Your mother gave it to me. I hope it's all right if I call you there.”

“Yes, of course. What's up?”

“I think I've found a buyer for the lodge,” Tim said.

Senna's grip on the phone tightened. “That's…good news, Tim.”

“His name is Earl Hammel. He'd like to come stay for a bit, see the place.”

“That's going to be a problem. We're fully booked for the summer. Six rooms per night, seven nights a week. There aren't any rooms available.”

“Senna, this guy seems pretty serious about buying the lodge. It would be nice if he could stay there.”

“That's true, but surely the fact that we're full in our start-up season will impress him.”

“Actually, he's interested in the lodge for personal and corporate use. Its business history doesn't interest him. He's in Europe right now but should be back soon. Senna, he could very well write a check for the entire property on the spot. He's no lightweight. He's a very wealthy man.”

“That may be so, but Jack doesn't want to sell his half of the business.”

“He might if the price was right. Can you talk to him about this and get back to me as soon as possible? I promised Earl I'd let him know.”

“Okay, I'll run it by him.” Senna knew she should be glad that Tim had found a buyer so quickly. If Jack agreed to sell his half of the business, which would be a miracle no matter what Earl Hammel offered for a price, then Gordina and Wavey could return to Goose Bay and she could go home to Maine. But instead of feeling grateful at this sudden turn of events, she was sitting here on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

There was a pause on the other end. “Look, Senna,
I'm sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds. I thought you'd be happy about this.”

“I'm grateful for your help, Tim, I just don't think Jack will go along with it. But I promise I'll talk to him. Thanks for calling.”

“Will you call me back with his answer?”

“Yes, of course I will.”

“I miss you, Senna.”

“Tim…”

“I know. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later.”

Senna massaged her aching temples after hanging up and sat for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts. She heard the old plane's motor start up and pushed out of her chair, moving to the window to stare down toward the river. Jack hadn't mentioned flying anywhere today. He was supposed to be cutting and splitting wood and making sure the kitchen fan in the stove hood was functioning properly. He had a lot on his plate, yet he was taxiing around the river bend, and not long afterward she heard him open the throttle for his take-off run.

Senna turned back to the registration area and then had a sudden thought. Maybe he was taking Wavey back to Goose Bay as a result of their early-morning argument. She went into the kitchen where Gordina was washing up the breakfast dishes. “Gordina, where was Jack going?”

“Didn't say.” Gordina still hadn't forgiven her for not allowing her to smoke inside and refused to look her in the eye or even glance in her general direction.

“Where's Wavey?”

“In the laundry room working on the bed skirts.”

Senna was torn between disappointment and relief. It would be good to have the girl gone, but who would
fill her position? “I think we should work on some sample menus after lunch,” she said to Gordina. “We need to firm up the meal planning and make sure we have all the provisions we need.”

Gordina made no reply, and Senna bit her lower lip to keep from saying something she might regret. She returned to the registration computer, where she spent the rest of the morning entering data. By the time she heard the plane returning she was more than ready to stretch her legs and make amends with her business partner. She was standing on the dock, Chilkat beside her, when Jack taxied up. Charlie and the crackie were with him. Charlie jumped out and tied off the plane, then he and the small black dog galloped up the ramp toward the lodge. Jack jumped out onto the pontoon, then turned, reached into the plane and picked up a crate. He set it on the dock and retrieved a total of four more. Two of them were wooden and stamped with a vineyard's logo.

“Our start-up liquor supply,” he said by way of explanation. “I brought everything that was stored in the cellar at the lake house, along with the rest of the dog food, and everything that was in the freezers. The plane's pretty full.”

“You might have told someone where you were going, and that you were taking Charlie with you,” Senna said.

“Sorry about that, but you were having a bad morning and I guess I was, too.” He looked around, a suspicious frown gathering. “Where the hell's Charlie disappeared to so quick? This stuff's heavy.”

Senna couldn't help but laugh. “Good thing I'm strong, isn't it? Let's get started. We have some important things to discuss over lunch.”

B
Y THE TIME THEY'D LUGGED
everything up the steep ramp, most of Senna's pent-up frustration had been worked out of her and she was just plain tired and hungry. Gordina had fixed a lunch of cabbage-and-potato soup. Wavey had already eaten and Charlie was nowhere to be found. Senna and Jack sat at one end of the big dining-room table and dipped into the bowls Gordina set before them. The broth was watery and tasteless, and both the potatoes and shredded cabbage could have used a lot more cooking time to soften them up. As soon as Gordina had left the room, Jack caught Senna's eye.

“Queasy,” he admitted.

Senna dropped her spoon with a clatter and pushed her bowl aside. “This soup is hardly fit to feed Goody's coopies. What are we going to do? Gordina's the main event, and nothing she's prepared so far has been remotely edible. She refuses to take any suggestions from me, so tutoring is out. We need to sit down with her and go through a meal-planning session. One week's worth of breakfast, lunch and dinner. We'll write it all down so she knows exactly what she's going to be preparing each day, I'll outline the recipes, and we'll prepare a shopping list. We need to get everything stocked up before the guests arrive….”

“Calm down,” Jack soothed as if she were an irrational child.

Senna rocked forward in her chair. “Don't tell me to calm down. This whole thing is shaping up to be a disaster!”

Jack slouched back in his seat, raising his arms in a gesture of surrender. “Okay then, go ahead, get all riled up,” he said. “Fly off the handle, if it'll make you feel any better.”

“Don't patronize me!”

“Patronize you?” He leaned forward, shoving his bowl aside. “Woman, I adore you for what you've done around here,” he said, his words so unexpected that Senna was momentarily speechless. “Everything,” he continued with an all-encompassing wave of his arm. “The admiral designed the place and I helped him build it, but it took you to bring this lodge to life. Flying back here today, all I could think of was what if you hadn't come at all? As much as we squabble and disagree about everything, you're definitely the runner carrying the torch to light the Olympic flame. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm damned glad you're here, and if you want to get histrionic on me, you're more than deserving of it. I know I'm not that easy to work with.”

Senna met his intense gaze and all the barbed words she'd been about to fling in his direction died a sudden death. She sat in silence.

He raised an eyebrow. “You said we had some important things to discuss over lunch,” he prompted. “I'm all ears, and not only that, I promise to behave myself.”

She drew a sharp breath as she thought about the potential buyer Tim had found for the lodge, and realized that she couldn't possibly initiate such a conversation
at this time. That information could wait until later. A few hours wouldn't make any difference. Besides, she knew how he'd feel about it. It was her
own
feelings that were confusing her. She pushed out of her chair. “Right now the most important thing is making sure our meals are palatable to the guests. I'll get Gordina and we'll plan a menu that even a new hire at McDonald's could handle.”

Jack rose to his feet before she could leave the room. “The real reason I left here today was to try and get in touch with Goody Stewart, but I couldn't. I left a message with the friend she was supposedly staying with in Black Tickle. I told her what we were doing, that Wavey and Gordina might not work out, and that we were desperate for her help.”

Senna nodded. “It was worth a try. Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe she'll come.”

“I took Charlie along so he could visit his relatives and ask if anyone wanted a seasonal job. It was a just a thought. They spend their summers at fish camp. Maybe one of the women would want to cook or clean, make some money, and we need another guide or two….”

“Maybe we'll get lucky there, as well.”

“It was just a thought,” he repeated.

Senna looked at him, feeling a warmth from deep within that turned the quick, nervous flutter in her stomach into something much more. “It was a good thought,” she said.

“I'll take Wavey back to Goose Bay on my next trip,” he said. “She's not helping that much.”

“She does enough so that if we didn't have her, we might be in even worse shape,” Senna admitted. “Until we can find someone to replace her, I think it's best if
she stays. And I'm sorry I questioned your integrity earlier. It's just that…well, she's so beautiful, and the way she hovers around you, I was just—”

“I know. You were just jealous.” Before she could respond he picked up his bowl, took hers out of her hand and started for the kitchen. “I'll get Gordina.”

Senna watched him leave and sat back down. Damn the man for being so arrogant and grinning at her that way, as if he read her very thoughts. Yes, she
was
jealous. The realization made her mad. She had no right to be jealous. John Hanson was his own man. And besides, she would be leaving here soon. She should be thrilled at the thought, yet she hadn't been able to tell Jack that Tim had found a potential buyer. Senna looked around the room, picturing a fire in the fireplace, the table crowded with guests who were laughing, talking, enjoying the meal and each other's company. She thought of the charming guest rooms, with all the little unexpected luxuries awaiting them.

She imagined the long, lovely days the guests would spend here, fishing with Jack or just sitting out on the porch and absorbing the peace of the surroundings, letting all of life's stresses vanish from their fast-paced lives while reconnecting to the sun and the moon, the wind and the stars, and the timeless life-giving force of the river; rising to the spiritual awakening of a pristine dawn and retiring to the breathtaking beauty of an arctic twilight. She'd miss all of that when she went back to Maine. Oh, in a smaller way some of those same things happened there, but this was a place where the wolves and caribou still roamed a vast and roadless wilderness….

Senna shook herself out of her reverie as Jack reap
peared, Gordina in reluctant tow. The older woman sat stiffly at the table, bony face rigid, refusing to look in Senna's direction. Jack handed Senna an orange and dropped into a chair, kicking back and balancing on the rear legs.

“So, Gordina,” he said, beginning to peel his own orange. “Aside from runny omelets, what exactly
is
your house specialty?”

 

J
ACK COULDN'T SLEEP
. The moon made the night so bright he thought he might as well just get up and split wood. What the hell. Physical labor sure beat lying in a narrow bunk fantasizing about how Senna was going to change her mind about selling her half of the business. He got up, paced to the door, and opened it to the rush of cool air and the sound of the Wolf River. If he were a smoker, he'd light up a cigarette right about now and contemplate becoming a monk or a drunk. He couldn't stop thinking about her. She was bewitching him, driving him nuts, and the thought of her leaving in a few days was making him even crazier. Four more days and she'd be gone. Four more days…

He should be sleeping. It was 2:00 a.m. and in a few hours he was supposed to fly into Goose Bay to pick up another load of provisions. He hadn't slept the night before, and he wouldn't sleep for the rest of his life, the way he was feeling tonight. Damn the woman for tormenting him, and damn the admiral for leaving his half of the business to her, and damn his commanding officer for creating her in the first place!

Jack pulled on his jeans and stuffed his feet into his boots. Senna wouldn't hear his labors, tucked away in her room at the lodge and no doubt sleeping the peace
ful sleep of the untormented. He'd split wood until he was exhausted, then he'd jump in the river. It was a good plan. A productive plan. After breakfast, he'd fire up the old Pratt and Whitney and fly into Goose Bay to flesh out their grocery list. Maybe he'd just keep on flying. Maybe if he flew far enough he could get Senna McCallum out of his blood.

But somehow Jack knew that no matter how far he flew, he couldn't escape her. In ten days Senna had somehow insinuated herself into his soul, become the reason why his heart beat and he drew breath. In spite of his resolve to steer clear of emotional entanglements, she had become part and parcel of his past and future.

Jack buttoned his flannel shirt, pulled on his jacket and stepped out into the twilight. He wrenched the splitting maul out of a stump beside the door and reached for the first piece of firewood. He liked splitting wood. There was a satisfying feel to the heft of the maul, the swift smooth arc through the air, the solid strike into the end grain of the log, and the resulting explosion of one piece into two. He liked the tangy smell of the spruce, the earthy ferment of the woods around him, and the wild restless churn of the river below.

Half an hour later sweat was running down his forehead, trickling between his shoulder blades in spite of the cold night air. He stripped out of his jacket and was lifting another piece of wood when a pale flash of movement caught his eye. He straightened, letting the handle of the maul slide through his fingers. Wavey materialized at the edge of the clearing. She was in her nightgown, barefoot, with a sweater drawn over her shoulders. Warning bells rang in his head as she moved closer. “I heard you out here,” she said.

“Go back to bed, Wavey. It'll be light in an hour.” He spoke gruffly, angry at her intrusion.

“I can't sleep,” she said, stepping even closer, invading his space. “I was lying in the darkness thinking about you, Jack.” Wavey's hands were holding the cardigan together at her neck, but as she spoke she let the sweater fall open and ran her hands down over the swell of her breasts. The nightgown she wore was a thin, flimsy thing that did little to hide any part of her. “Thinking about you, and wishing you were lying beside me,” she continued in a breathless voice.

“I told you before, I'm not interested in what you're offering. Go on. I'm busy here.”

But instead of retreating to her cabin she advanced again, and Jack took another step backward, tripping over a piece of wood. He lost his balance, falling onto the woodpile with an angry bellow. He was struggling to his feet when Wavey fell on top of him, planting her mouth on his and writhing against him like a wild cat, trying to unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants at the same time. Her hands were everywhere all at once. “I want you so much, Jack!” she cried out when he pushed her off him. “I love you and I could make you happy, I know I could. Let me prove it to you…!” She was still pleading with him when he set her on her feet and shoved her in the direction of her cabin.

“Go,” he said harshly, pointing his arm.
“Go!”

She spun and ran through the woods, weeping like a child. He sat down onto the chopping block and dropped his head into his hands with a heartfelt moan. There were no gods in the heavens. If there were, surely Senna would have been the one drawn by the sound of him
splitting wood, and one thing was certain and scared the hell out of him.

He never would have sent her away.

 

S
ENNA WAS DRINKING HER FIRST
cup of coffee on the porch when she saw Jack coming up the path from his cabin. His hair was plastered to his head and his face was freshly shaven. He was dressed in clean chinos and a hunter-green flannel shirt. “I'm going into Goose Bay after breakfast to pick up another load of provisions,” he said, climbing the steps and pausing beside her. “Do you need anything?”

“Several dozen cases of frozen dinners might be a wise investment,” she said with a smile. “I'm going to work in the kitchen with Gordina today, whether she likes it or not. Tonight we'll serve a meal similar to the ones she'll be preparing for our guests. I think if you bring back everything on that list, we'll be fine.”

“Good.” He nodded, then started toward the kitchen.

“There is one other thing you could get,” she added.

He paused, ran his fingers through his wet hair. “What's that?”

“Some petunias. I think a planter on either side of the base of the porch steps would look pretty. Maybe white, pink and purple, with a little lobelia trailing down. Try to find a purple that's fragrant. Some of them smell very sweet.”

“Petunias?” Clearly he didn't think much of that idea.

“Oh, and one more thing. A good bottle of champagne. I think a pre-grand-opening celebration is in order before I leave. We've worked hard. A little treat would be nice.”

He appeared startled by her request. “What kind of champagne?”

Senna smiled up at him over the rim of her mug. “Tell you what, I'll give you the money, you surprise me.”

“Okay.” He was studying her as if she were an extraterrestrial newly arrived from another planet.

“Why are you staring at me that way?”

“Just wondering how you always manage to look so beautiful first thing in the morning, and why you're being so friendly.”

“It helps one's physical and emotional state to get a good night's sleep,” Senna said. “People who split wood in the middle of the night can't expect to feel all that chipper in the morning.”

His expression instantly changed to one of wary caution. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“Oh, you didn't. The moon was so bright and the night was so beautiful that I decided to go for a little walk. I heard you splitting wood, so I thought I'd stop by your cabin and say hello.” Senna raised her mug and took a sip, noting that Jack's expression had definitely gotten stonier. She grinned at him. “I guess Wavey couldn't sleep last night, either.”

“You spied on me?”

“I was just wondering why you were splitting wood at two in the morning.”

“No doubt you got quite an eyeful,” he said, running his fingers through his hair again, leaving it tousled in damp disarray. “I hope you're satisfied.” He turned and strode down the porch, the kitchen door banging shut behind him.