Chapter 10
Logan
“I’m so sorry,” the older woman behind the check-in counter at the Glacier Side Inn said, her expression apologetic.
“We’re completely booked up since the avalanche closed the road.
Seems folks don’t really want to turn around.
Our no vacancy light isn’t working, or that would have saved you the trouble of stopping in. ”
Haylee’s expression dropped at the news.
She’d already been through so much today.
The only thing she talked about on the drive back to Sunset Ridge was how much she wanted to wrap Melly in the world’s tightest hug—she also made some cartoon reference that involved naming her George that he didn’t understand.
Something about Looney Tunes, Daffy Duck in a rabbit costume, and an abominable snowman.
But the message was clear: she needed her daughter.
His only mission was to reunite them, but he hadn’t factored in an avalanche, of all things.
He expected tensions to be a little high with the Webbers, but he wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that they’d outright demand for them to leave without hearing Haylee out.
Did they really think she was after their money?
He was disappointed in their reaction, to say the least. He imagined Dylan would be, too.
“Is there anywhere else to stay?” he asked the woman, using a casual tone that implied this major inconvenience was nothing more than a slight change of plans. It wasn’t her fault a massive avalanche had unexpectedly closed the highway until morning.
“Closest lodging that still has rooms is north about twenty miles, but if you want to stay there, you best go now. You’re the fourth couple I’ve sent that way in the last half hour.”
“We’re so close we could practically snowshoe home,” Haylee said on a heavy sigh. “Can’t you call in an Army tank or one of those Blackhawk helicopters?”
Logan chuckled at her joke. “Afraid I’m not that high up on the chain.”
“You’re in the military?” the woman, Susan her name tag read, asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My husband served in Vietnam. Thank you for your service.”
He nodded, offering her a smile. Six, going on seven years and he still wasn’t used to people thanking him for his service.
He was just doing the job he signed up for.
He hadn’t done anything all that heroic.
If he had, maybe Dylan would still be here.
But instead, he stayed back when his buddy volunteered for a patrol he was never supposed to be on.
They should have gone together.
Or he should’ve tried harder to convince Dylan to stay back.
He couldn’t change anything now, but his decision to do nothing might haunt him every time someone thanked him for his service.
“You’re just waiting on the road to clear?” Susan asked, oblivious to the turmoil inside of him.
“Yes, so we can get back home to my daughter,” Haylee said.
“Do you mind dogs?”
“We love dogs,” Logan said. “Got two of them waiting for us in Sunset Ridge.”
“You must be a Reservist.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He ignored the furtive look Haylee gave him, promising to tell her the truth later. He owed her that much after everything she’d been through today, and it would be good practice for telling Grandma Charlotte. Which he really should do before Christmas.
“Well, if you don’t mind sharing a bed with a golden retriever, I might be able to offer you a place to lay your head tonight. It’s not much, but it’s warm.”
“Really?” Haylee asked. She’d been on the verge of tears since storming out of the restaurant—tears of anger.
And when they encountered the road closure with signs warning an avalanche made travel on the only road into Sunset Ridge impossible—tears of defeat.
But now, he recognized those almost-tears as relief.
“As I said, it’s not much. But, if I can convince you to help with a couple of chores—my husband George hurt his knee, so he’s not been able to do much these past couple of days—then you can stay for free. I’ll even feed you.”
Logan watched Haylee’s expression light up.
“We’ll take it,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Dasher is the biggest bed hog you’ll ever meet. But I can’t stand the thought of a young couple such as yourself stranded from your daughter and pups a minute longer than necessary.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
Logan dropped his hand onto Haylee’s shoulder then, hoping she’d get the hint, and pulled her into his side. If they didn’t pretend to be a couple, the invitation to stay in Susan’s guest room might be revoked.
“Thank you, ma’am. We’re very grateful for your hospitality.”
“Please, call me Susan.”
“Thank you, Susan,” Haylee said, the tension in her shoulders waning as she leaned into him, her peppermint-scented shampoo teasing his senses. It wasn’t hard to play the part of a happy couple. Not for him.
“Why don’t you grab your things, and I’ll show you to your room?” Susan said. “House is just behind the motel.”
First, Logan fixed the no vacancy sign by replacing a shorted fuse.
Then, he brought enough firewood inside the couple’s modest home to get them through Christmas.
He spent the rest of the afternoon tinkering with the stubborn snowblower until it finally roared to life, and then used it to clear the access to the house.
It felt good to be useful.
It reminded him of helping Gramps with chores. The ache he felt in his chest when he told the Webbers of his passing hit him once again.
Grandma Charlotte was holding together well enough, but he knew she missed him, too.
Maybe he was being selfish, moving to Alaska when he could just as easily request a post in Arizona.
Sure, she had her retirement community. But that wasn’t the same as having family nearby. They were it—just the two of them now.
Being around Haylee’s family made him appreciate his own so much more than he ever had.
Was it too late to get reassigned? Now that he’d likely be ceasing contact with Dylan’s parents, he didn’t feel pressure to stay in Anchorage. He could make a call tomorrow and ask about a post in Phoenix. Or he could try. With Christmas only three days away, he wondered if anyone would answer.
“If you’re done being all handy, dinner’s ready,” Haylee called to him from the back door. She stood on the cleared stoop in a pair of fuzzy neon-green Grinch socks he suspected Susan leant her.
He propped the shovel he used to clear the back walkway in a pile of snow and leaned on it.
He meant to tell her he’d be right in, but the words lodged in his throat as his gaze traveled up and down Haylee’s curvy figure.
The sight of her in that dark red sweater—a streak of flour smeared against her cheek and a smile spread across her lips which he didn’t expect to see until she was reunited with Melly—made him come undone.
And just like that, the urge to stay in Alaska—to call Sunset Ridge his new home—completely drowned out his thoughts of moving closer to Grandma Charlotte.
He had an impossible choice in front of him.
“We’re having pancakes,” Haylee added.
“Pancakes?”
“And bacon. I asked Susan to teach me how to make pancakes. Melly wants them for Christmas morning. Turns out I’m not a lost cause after all. I only burned one, and Dasher happily ate it.”
“That’s a good thing, I take it?” he guessed, carrying the shovel back toward the house where she stood.
“Well, when your dog refuses to eat your screw-ups, you know it’s bad.”
“Allie isn’t a fan of your cooking?”
“Allie isn’t a fan of my charred pancakes. The rest of my cooking, she loves.”
“Jasper would’ve eaten your burned pancakes.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s obsessed with pancakes. It’s his main weakness.”
Logan propped the shovel against the back of the house and joined Haylee on the tiny stoop. He glanced down at her, aware how little space existed between them. But if she was bothered by his proximity, she didn’t let on.
His gaze went straight to her glossy lips again. It was a bad habit he didn’t much care to break. If they were a real couple, they’d kiss, right?
“Let’s hope Dasher doesn’t have the pancake farts tonight since he’s sharing our bed,” Logan teased.
“Our bed?” Haylee asked, her question more of a squeak.
“Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, his voice low as he tucked her hair behind her ear. He noticed the flour smudge again. “Safely out of the back blast area.” He dragged his fingertips along her jawline, the touch eliciting a gasp of surprise from Haylee he quite enjoyed.
“Pancake farts aren’t real,” she said, her voice more of a strangled whisper.
He brushed away the flour with his thumb.
“Guess that’s a risk you’ll just have to take tonight.”
“I’m not afraid of a little risk,” she said.
“No?” He hooked his finger beneath her chin. It would be so easy to tip her face up until her lips were in range. So easy to taste the flavor of lip gloss she used, to finally press his lips where he wanted to most.
In Haylee’s presence, all his problems seemed to disappear. The world around them quieted and vanished. He felt more at peace than he had in years. She was his peace.
Would it be so terrible to give in?
Yes, she was Dylan’s ex-girlfriend. That would never change. But that was years ago, when all three of them were different people. They’d still practically been kids, figuring out what they wanted in life. Figuring out who they even were.
But now . . .
“You two lovebirds might want to wrap this up before the pancakes get cold,” Susan called through the crack in the kitchen window. “And fair warning, I’m sending Dasher out in a minute. He goes a little nuts for the snow.”
“We should go inside,” Haylee said, not moving.
“Dasher might eat our dinner if we don’t.”
“If he does, we might both be sleeping on the floor.”
“I’ve slept in worse conditions.”
“Logan—”
Dasher let out a loud bark as he charged them from the back door. He shimmied between their legs, bolting into the backyard. Haylee nearly lost her balance, but Logan caught her by the waist before she went backwards. Her peppermint scent hit him suddenly, nearly knocking him off balance.
The pup let out a few chipper barks as he leapt right into a snowbank with the enthusiasm of an unsupervised toddler.
“Sorry, he was getting desperate,” Susan said from the doorway, an apologetic smile on her face. To Haylee, she added, “Besides, your toes weren’t going to last much longer, sweetie. Let the man sweet talk you where there’s heat.”
* * *
The pancakes weren’t just good, they were the best Logan had ever had.
“The key is to use buttermilk instead of regular milk,” Susan explained as she collected empty plates from the snug dining room table. “I wrote the recipe down for your wife, so she can make these anytime you want.”
Wife.
He liked the sound of that.
Maybe a little too much.
“It probably helps if you don’t burn them, too,” Haylee said on a laugh.
“That, too,” he agreed.
“You kids up for a game of cards? Or maybe a movie?”
Haylee looked to Logan, as though they were a real couple deciding whether to stay or call it a night. It felt oddly . . . normal. Yeah, he could get used to this, all right.
“What about a Christmas movie?” Haylee asked. “Anything other than Rudolph.”
Logan chuckled.
“I’ve been meaning to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. I watch it every year. But it’s been a little hectic around here with George and his bum knee. Would that suit you?”
Logan smiled, shaking his head. He glanced up toward the ceiling, his silent acknowledgment of his mother in that glance.
He lived for those little moments. It was the reassurance he didn’t know he needed that everything would turn out okay.
Mom was watching out for him from above. He never doubted it.
“That sounds perfect,” Haylee said, her gaze flickering to his. “Too bad you don’t have a tree that needs decorating. That would complete one of our Christmas traditions, wouldn’t it?”
“As a matter of fact, my tree is bare aside from some lights. Another thing on the to-do list that won’t get checked off this year. It’s just as well. It’s still pretty with just the lights. Probably a little too late to worry about ornaments anyway.”
“Susan, I believe you’re in luck,” Logan said, dropping his hand to Haylee’s shoulder again, his arm draping across her upper back as he pulled her into his side—something he quite enjoyed doing.
She enjoyed it too if the way she melted into him was any indication.
“Haylee is a world-class tree decorator.”
Haylee shot him a look. “He’s exaggerating.”
“She’s being modest. Did you know I once spent two hundred and seventy-five dollars on a three-foot Christmas tree she decorated for a store display? They weren’t even for sale, but I just had to have it. She’s that good.”
“You two are so sweet I practically have a stomachache. You must leave me your address so I can add you to my Christmas card list.”
Yeah, he really liked the idea of Haylee as his wife.
“Would you like me to finish decorating your tree?” Haylee offered.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll put some cookies in the oven once I get Dasher back inside—I already made the dough. Why don’t you kids grab the ornaments boxes from the guest room? You can go wild while we get the movie started.”