Chapter 47 Haisley
HAISLEY
Haisley gathered up her cheer with determination.
She was not going to spoil Tristan’s last night here moping about him leaving and dwelling on all the difficulties of going with him, even if the visa application did look like a nightmare.
She was moving to a beautiful tropical island with a hot green-flag guy who adored her and could change into a carnival-sized teddy bear.
There was magic in the world, and she was going to be part of it, if a small part.
She could not possibly be sad in these circumstances.
She wouldn’t let herself.
The Shifting Sands staff was happy distraction, and there were plenty of mixed feelings to share.
“I’m looking forward to being at Shifting Sands again,” Darla said, as they set the table, “but I will truly miss this place. This is such a lovely place, and it feels very much like a home.”
Breck agreed as he set out dishes. “I hope to come back.”
“I wonder if Conall would consider doing this every year,” Magnolia said, settling into her chair at the head of the table with a drink.
As Haisley laid out silverware, she was suddenly shocked when a ring of light appeared from nowhere in front of the bar. It opened into what could only be a portal—Tristan ought to have warned her!—that a well-dressed man briskly stepped out of. It snapped shut behind him.
“Mal!” Chef called from the kitchen door.
“Mr. Moore?” Tristan said in confusion from Haisley’s side. The others quickly gathered from the great room to gawk.
Haisley knew at once that this was a Person of Importance. From the tilt of his jaw to the casual way he wore his expensive suit, he had an aura of power that rich people often only pretended to have.
Besides that, he’d just stepped through a magical portal, and Haisley was pretty sure that not just anyone had those at their disposal.
He turned to Tristan. “Scarlet tried to call and speak further with you, but it went immediately to voicemail.” Mal Moore brushed his sleeves down over glowing marks that Haisley only got a glimpse of and looked around in interest. “She’s not able to visit herself, but she wants to give your proposal a little more consideration.
She sent me to give it a look and determine the value of the property and risk of the venture.
” He frowned out the window and then looked at his watch. “What time is it here?”
“It’s nearly five,” Haisley volunteered. “PM.”
Mal Moore settled his sharp gaze on her and Haisley tried not to feel intimidated. “It’s quite dark.” Did he disbelieve her?
“We don’t have a lot of daylight here at this time of year,” Haisley said brightly. “The sun went down a few hours ago.”
“You would be Miss Haisley Davison.”
Haisley blinked. “Yes, sir,” she said, automatically respectful.
He stepped forward to offer his hand. “I am Mal Moore and I am here to represent Shifting Sands Resort. Is this a convenient time to show me around?” He asked it gently, but Haisley suspected that he was used to people making things convenient for him.
Tristan edged a little closer to her, like he wanted to protect her, but Haisley leaned forward and shook the stranger’s hand.
Haisley hadn’t taken Tristan’s suggestion that the chalet become a rental for shifters very seriously, but apparently, he had, and now everyone was staring at her and everything was at stake. “Yes. Of course. Yes! Let me introduce you to the chalet.”
Haisley knew that she needed to lead her very best house tour ever. She started in the dining room, since that’s where they were.
“This dining room is one of the featured rooms of this house. The sidebar was salvaged from a gold rush saloon in Fairbanks and refinished to its former glory. It is fully stocked with locally distilled spirits and classic favorites. The table seats sixteen and dates from the middle of the previous century. You’ll note that the chairs are not a matched set!
Here in Alaska, being at the end of an unreliable supply chain, we tend to be much more about using what we have and making do. ”
Haisley led the group through the kitchen, pointing out the modern appliances.
“Our kitchen has always passed inspections with flying colors. We are a certified member of the Alaska Bed and Breakfast Association, and keep our licenses and insurance current. Food safety is our first priority. We have a generator backup for the fridge and freezers, successfully tested as recently as yesterday.”
“I can assure you that this is a well-run kitchen,” Chef chimed in. “Haisley has a tight ship here.”
“It’s so nicely organized,” Darla added quietly. “Everything was conveniently labeled and fully stocked.”
Mal didn’t offer an opinion, but he did open a few cabinets and thumb through one of the binders that Haisley had out.
Haisley led them out into the great room. She told them about Steve and his colorful past, the homesteading of the land and the building of the chalet. She pointed out the architectural aspects.
“It’s a sound building,” she added. “It’s withstood three major earthquakes. It stays warm at fifty below and cool at ninety above.”
She took them up the stairs and let each occupant show off their own room.
She was glad that they spoke about them in glowing joy.
Lydia mentioned how nice it was to have one bedroom on the main floor so she didn’t have to handle stairs every day.
Tristan pointed out the solid stair construction and praised the size of the roof timbers.
“These logs came from further south in the state,” Haisley added, rapping on a log column. “We have such a short growing season here that our trees don’t tend to get this big! It’s almost impossible to find logs of this size anywhere now.”
Haisley took them out on the second floor porch—it was very crowded with all of them—and pointed out the views.
“That slight glow at the horizon is Fairbanks. We have very little light pollution, so chances of seeing northern lights from the upper porch are excellent in the winter. Not in the summer, of course, because it doesn’t get dark. ”
“I’d love to come back and see the midnight sun,” Magnolia said. Chef saw her shiver and wrapped his arms around her.
“We can show you photos of the view during the day,” Alice said. “I’ve taken a hundred of them.”
“The property extends about a mile and a half in that direction,” Haisley said, pointing.
“Plenty of room for private expansion if it was desired. The nearest neighbors on the road are a mile in either direction. The property to the south is a designated greenbelt. There are some established trails, but very little regular traffic. I have the most recent property plat in my office downstairs.”
“Thank you, I already have it,” Mal said.
Haisley herded them back inside and made sure the doors were securely shut behind her. “You’ll notice the old-fashioned hardware on all the interior doors. These were actually ordered from Switzerland, and although they are a brass finish, all of the internal workings are stainless steel.”
“Do you have much theft or vandalism to deal with?”
“None at all!” Haisley considered, then added frankly, “Sometimes the mail from the box at the road gets stolen. But the only local hoodlums are the moose who eat the garden!”
Everyone chuckled except Mal.
She finished the tour back at the great room. “We have a selection of snowsuits and boots available for guests to use outdoors. Most of our clients bring their own outerwear, but that can be an unreasonable expense for travelers from warm climates who will never use it again.”
Haisley wondered if she imagined that Mal had gotten chillier throughout their inspection. He certainly hadn’t gotten any friendlier, and Haisley’s nerves were jangling. “I imagine that is a regular expense, then?”
“We have to replace this gear, as well as skis, snowshoes, and sleds, on a regular basis.”
“What financial programs do you use?” Mal asked, frowning into the closet. “Do you have a regular bookkeeper?”
“I use a simple spreadsheet and present necessary expenses to Mr. Barnum on a monthly basis. I have a credit card for discretionary spending and we have established accounts with local wholesale suppliers. We use an online scheduling service to book orders and collect payments,” Haisley added.
“Do you run the chalet alone?” Mal’s look was critical, like he wasn’t sure she could handle the work.
“Dorothy Sloane is a housekeeper who also lives on site. She is visiting her mother this month, so I’m afraid you won’t be meeting her. We hire additional help as requested or for general repairs. Mr. Barnum makes all executive decisions, if he is available.”
“Do you like Mr. Barnum?”
Haisley was caught by surprise. “I don’t know him well on a personal level, but he’s always treated me very fairly.” Except for kicking her out over Christmas. Which hadn’t gone the way anyone had planned. Would Mal know that she was hedging the truth a little?
“What are the most common complaints of your guests?”
Haisley felt like she was being grilled by an FBI agent in a basement under one bare bulb.
“Some of them are unprepared for the isolation, extreme weather, and variable daylight. We do our best to make the accommodations comfortable, but we sometimes have to bear shortages of common goods.”
“Just like Shifting Sands does,” Tristan pointed out loyally.
“Remember when we ran out of milk for a week?” Breck volunteered.
“I had to dig deep to serve a variety of dairy-free recipes,” Chef chuckled. “The irony being that there wasn’t one single vegan guest that week.” He glanced at Haisley. “I wish I’d had several of your excellent recipes at that time!”
Haisley flushed happily and gave him a grateful look. The Shifting Sands crew had stuck around for the whole tour, supportive at every turn.
Mal only frowned generally around. “I have what I need,” he said shortly. “Thank you for your time.” He nodded at the staff generally, and gravely shook both Haisley’s hand and Tristan’s. “I’ll be in touch.”
Then he pushed up one of his sleeves, murmured something under his breath, and Haisley watched in astonishment as runes tattooed on his forearms briefly glowed.
He bent to trace a doorway in the air, light following his fingers, and then stepped through to a dark tropical garden lit with torches.
When he was gone, there was a scent of warm salt water that lingered for several moments.