Chapter 8
S adie
“More coffee, Tucker?” Sadie held up the pot, already knowing his answer after several days of serving at the Crooked Spoon.
“Do moose drop nuggets in the woods?” He pushed forward his mug—one he’d painted himself with a dancing moose wearing a tutu. “I must say, you’re getting better at figuring out regular from decaf.”
Sadie ignored what she hoped was a compliment. “The sonnet you recited about cream and sugar was actually pretty good.” And she meant it.
“You should hear my haiku about hash browns.” Tucker studied her over the rim of his cup. “You’re settling in nicely. Despite yourself.”
Sadie topped off his coffee. “Not settling. Just making the best of being stranded.”
“That’s what I said when I first came here. After the gallery fire.” He traced the rim of his mug. “Did you know it wasn’t even the fire that broke me? It was finding out why Myrtle did it.”
“Your ex-wife?” Sadie slid into the chair across from him, now that the breakfast rush had ended.
“She thought I was having an affair with one of my students. Beautiful young thing, talented too. Painted Alaska like she could see right into its soul.” He chuckled softly. “Myrtle never understood that not all passion is carnal. That young student reminded me of why I fell in love with art. I couldn’t help that she was a female.”
“What happened to your ex-wife?”
“Last I heard, she was shacked up in Anchorage with a used car salesman. She only got three months’ probation and a fine for torching my art gallery.” He shrugged. “I wound up with the better end of the deal. I got freedom and a new home, thanks to Lucky and Kreston, who brought me to Polar Creek. That mayor of ours has a gift for helping people.”
“Like taking them in?” The domino effect Kreston Collins had on this town was slowly dawning on Sadie.
“Like seeing worth where others see wreckage.” Tucker pulled out his ever-present sketch pad. “Now I sell my work in the hotel gift shop and split the proceeds with Kreston, though he never asks for a dime. Says my art belongs where people can appreciate it.”
Before Sadie could respond, a whirlwind of activity burst through the door.
“Here comes the gossip factory,” muttered Tucker. “Tall Martha, Mini-Martha, and Henrietta. They’re trouble with a capital ‘T.’ Watch yourself.” He got up and wandered off, leaving Sadie cornered like a reindeer in a hot tub.
“There you are!” the tall woman announced, her five-foot-eleven frame ducking slightly under the restaurant doorway. Obviously, Tall Martha.
The much shorter one must be Mini-Martha. She peeked around Tall Martha’s elbow. “Don’t scare the poor girl. We just want to welcome her properly. ”
“And get the scoop on the cheating ex,” the third woman added, adjusting her black horn-rimmed glasses. “Hello, Sadie. I’m Henrietta. They call me Henrietta for short. Has anyone mentioned our mayor is single?”
“You’re only the two-hundredth person who’s mentioned it,” Sadie replied dryly.
“From a technical standpoint, you’re incorrect,” Henrietta declared. “We only have a population of one hundred twelve.”
“One hundred thirteen, now that you’re here,” piped up Mini-Martha, her rosy cheeks like two little apples on either side of her nose.
The three women grouped around her table like she was a celebrity.
Sadie couldn’t suppress her smile. “Let me guess—Lucky told you about my ex?”
“Oh honey,” Tall Martha leaned down and patted her hand. “Lucky only told one person, but the whole town knew before his plane landed.”
“He’s far more efficient than email.” Mini-Martha and the other two nodded earnestly. “And more reliable than the internet. Speaking of reliable...” She waggled her eyebrows. “Kreston’s quite the catch—”
“Alright, already!” Sadie’s patience was wearing thin with this persistent matchmaking stuff.
“Did someone mention my dating status?” Kreston’s voice came from behind the three women, causing them to jump. “Because I’m pretty sure that violates the town ordinance.”
“Really?” asked Tall Martha. “There’s an ordinance for your dating status?”
“Of course. I can make any ordinance I want. I’m the mayor.” Kreston offered her a grin. “Unlike Alaska’s boroughs and municipalities. That’s the beauty of living here.”
Henrietta nodded in agreement. “Polar Creek is a vast improvement over other places I’ve worked in rural Alaska. At least the kids here don’t blow away during recess—unlike Kwigillingok and Tuntutuliak, where I was the school librarian.”
Mini-Martha chimed in as all three headed for the door. “Just like it’s true that certain mayors and Seattle visitors would make an adorable couple—”
“Goodbye, ladies!” interrupted Kreston, waving them out of the restaurant. He shook his head at Sadie. “People get cabin fever here in the winter, so they dwell on things like trying to get me married off. Just ignore them. They mean well.” He dashed out of the restaurant and down the hall.
Curious, Sadie rose and followed him to the end of the hallway, where he ducked into a small room with a sign on the door: “Polar Creek Post Office.” She leaned against the doorway, watching him stuff letters into a mail sack.
“You can’t possibly have a town ordinance for your love life,” she said, crossing her arms.
“No, but I should.” He pressed his finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t tell the Gossip Trio, though.”
“Don’t worry,” she said with an exaggerated wink. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“Want to help? Mrs. Henderson gets the large print catalogs.” He didn’t wait for an answer, only crammed letters into wooden mail slots lined up along the wall. “Tucker’s art supplies go straight to the hotel, so stick those on that table there.” He dipped his head toward it.
“Special delivery!” Ten Second Tess appeared in the doorway. “I have mail for Mayor Kreston!” She gave a blank look to Sadie. “Who are—?”
Sadie interrupted. “Sadie from Seattle.”
“Oh, right, you’re the mayor’s mail-order bride!” chirped Tess.
Sadie gave Kreston a perplexed look, and he took it from there.
“She’s not my mail-order bride.” He handed Tess a bundle of letters. “Take these to Aloha right away before you forget. Go, go, go!” He shooed her out the door like a mischievous bear cub.
Sadie helped Kreston finish sorting the mail. She straightened with her hands on her hips, gazing at the multiple piles of letters, packages, and boxes.
“Most people come here to get their mail,” explained Kreston. “Others can’t always make it to town, so I deliver it to their homes.”
“Next, I’m off to settle the ongoing snow storage dispute.” He shouldered the mail bag and smiled. “Want to come along? Unless you have something better to do.” He pulled on his jacket and offered her an extra one. “Here. Put this on.”
She wrapped his oversized jacket around herself, inhaling its scent of pine and wood smoke. Kreston ushered her from his office, locked the door, and they stepped outside. Snowflakes caught Sadie’s eyelashes, and her breaths were puffs of vapor as she followed him across the street to the mayor’s office in the community center building.
Inside, the scent of coffee greeted them. Sadie paused at a large stuffed moose perched on a plant stand, holding a sign saying “Polar Creek Mayor.”
“Last year’s Christmas present from Lucky,” Kreston explained, catching her stare.
The morning brought a steady parade of small-town problems, which Kreston handled with surprising grace. Three neighbors argued about where to store the white stuff, each refusing to pile it on their own property. Mrs. Henderson complained neighborhood kids had built their snowmen too close to her yard, scaring her cats. Kreston scribbled a note to tell the kids’ parents to please relocate the snowman, snow-woman, and their snow-baby.
After Mrs. Henderson left, he confessed to Sadie, “I secretly think the snow baby is adorable, but you know how it is. Got to keep peace in the valley.” He spread his arms in a what-can-you-do gesture.
A wide smile spread across Sadie’s face. “Your corporate negotiation and problem-solving skills have come in handy.”
Hardware Bob, practically blind without his glasses, showed up at the mayor’s office, claiming one of Kreston’s sled dogs had gotten loose and chased Bob’s chickens and pet pigs around his homestead.
“Pretty sure that’s not a husky, Bob,” Kreston pointed out when Bob planted himself in front of his desk, holding up a photo of a confused wolf on his phone.
“But it’s your lead dog, Mayor Collins. He responded to ‘Denali’ when I called him,” argued Bob. “ He even rolled over and played dead.”
“So does Lucky when he’s had too many hot-buttered rums. Wolves have been known to do that, too,” explained Kreston. “I’ll have Lucky take the wolf far from town and return him to the wild.”
Speak of the devil. Lucky popped in, and Kreston asked him to fetch one of his dog kennels, lure the wolf inside with a moose steak, and take him to the far side of Grayling Lake. “And use your own moose meat. Don’t raid my freezer like last time!” Kreston hollered after Lucky as he vanished out the door to run his errand with Hardware Bob on his heels.
“You’ll be getting rid of Mayor Collins’ best dog!” Bob yelled after Lucky as he toddled out the door.
Sadie silently watched the parade of complaints with amusement and fascination. She’d never been exposed to anything like this in the city. There was a lot to this mayor business. It wasn’t easy keeping order in a small town. At least Kreston didn’t hassle with bumper-to-bumper traffic and high crime. Not that she could tell, anyway.
Through it all, Kreston maintained his patience and kept his sense of humor, solving problems that would drive most people loony and they’d run screaming out the door. Sadie found herself in awe of how he blended common sense with creative solutions. He was nothing like the bureaucrats and polished executives she dealt with in Seattle—especially Clayton, her ex, with his careful image and calculated charm.
No, Kreston belonged in a category all his own. But maybe that was the problem—nobody could be this perfect. Didn’t he have any flaws?
By the time they arrived at Kreston’s dog yard to prepare for the sled dog sprint races, Sadie had gained a healthy respect for Kreston, the mayor. She observed how carefully he checked his dogs’ paws and got them ready to load into the old pickup he used for hauling.
“You’re good at all this,” she commented.
“With the dogs?”
“No—yes, well, that too. I mean with people. The way you care. How you solve problems without making anyone feel small.”
He looked up. “Easy to care when it matters.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? Everything here mattered. Every person, every problem, every solution. No spin required. A stark contrast to her world, where authenticity hid behind manufactured images, wrapped in layers of pretense.
“Ready to meet your racing team?” He gestured to the excited dogs. “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”
She should be having second thoughts—about all of it. About how he handled broken lives with grace, solved disputes with humor, treated Tess with endless patience. About how different he was from the men she’d known in the lower forty-eight. And how none of it mattered because they lived in different worlds.
“I’m ready,” she said, ignoring the voice in her head reminding her they had nothing in common except attraction. Well, maybe more than attraction, she begrudgingly told herself.
As she watched his gentle yet commanding interaction with his dogs, she realized he was completely in his element. For the first time since he’d opened the door to help her out of Lucky’s plane, she wanted to know more about this person who appeared to have zero imperfections. She was determined to find one. Everyone had them. The only downside to looking for flaws—when you found them, it was hard to un-find them.
Forget it. She’d be out of here in a few days—as soon as the weather cleared.
“Want to give me a hand?” Kreston instructed her to open each of the seven wooden dog boxes. He then lifted each dog inside until all were safely loaded. “Take that end of the sled. Please,” he added, lifting his end.
After they loaded the sled and Kreston secured it to the pickup, Sadie flung open the passenger door and hurled herself into the seat. “You need to install a step on this truck so people can get in easier,” she huffed.
“That would ruin the fun of watching them climb in,” he said laughingly, turning the ignition and driving along the snowy road toward town.
Sadie looked out the side window at the winter wonderland. She’d never been immersed in so much snow. Oddly, it made her feel insulated and protected, the way it muffled everything. She kind of liked it.
It hit her like a brick: she didn’t know what she wanted out of life. She’d fallen into a job after college and worked her way up, jumping from one PR firm to another, until her current job was the pinnacle she’d always aimed for. And now that she’d reached it, she wasn’t happy. Something was missing.
The universe had a funny sense of humor, orchestrating this inconvenience, showing her a slice of life she hadn’t even known existed. She’d driven through small towns lots of times. But not one like this. Polar Creek was a weird, quirky town in a category all its own...and so were its residents. Especially this hotel manager, a.k.a. mayor, a.k.a. postmaster, and, oh yeah, bush pilot. She had yet to see him fly.
But she had a hunch he was really, really good at it.