Walker turned to the sink with the pretense of rinsing out his coffee cup. What he’d told Garth about the Westmorelands being good people was true—up to a point. As far as he was concerned, the jury was still out on Bailey.
Bailey.
There was no way Walker could have hung around another day and breathed the same air that she did. He clenched his jaw at the thought that he had allowed her to get under his skin. She was just the type who could get embedded in a man’s soul if he was weak enough to let it happen.
On top of everything else, she was as gutsy as the day was long. She’d definitely had a lot of nerve asking him to do that interview. She was used to getting what she wanted, but he wasn’t one of her brothers or cousins. He had no reason to give in to her every wish.
“You actually played cards with Thorn Westmoreland?” Garth asked with what sounded like awe.
“Yes,” Walker said over his shoulder. “He told us about the bike he’s building for some celebrity.”
“Really? Did you mention that you used to be an actor and that you know a lot of those folks in Hollywood?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Walker turned around. “I was there to get to know them, not the other way around, Garth. They didn’t need to know anything about me other than that I was a friend to the Outlaws who came in good faith to get to know them.”
But that hadn’t stopped them from finding out about his past anyway. He wasn’t sure who all knew, since the only person who’d mentioned anything about his days in Hollywood was Bailey. If the others knew, they’d been considerate enough to respect his privacy. That had been too much to expect of Bailey. All she’d seen was an opportunity to sell magazines.
“I think I’ll take your advice and suggest to the others that we pay those Westmorelands a visit. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Walker said, opening the dishwasher to place his cup inside. “How are you going to handle Bart? Do you have any idea why he’s so dead set against any of you establishing relationships with your new cousins?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll have to get over it.” Garth glanced at his watch. “I hate to run but I have a meeting back in Fairbanks in three hours. That will give Regan just enough time to fly me out of here and get me back to the office.”
Regan Fairchild had been Garth’s personal pilot for the past two years. She’d taken her father’s place as the corporate pilot for the Outlaws after he retired. “I’ll see you out.”
When they passed through the living room, Garth glanced over at Walker. “When you want to tell me the real reason you left Denver early, let me know. Don’t forget I can read you like a book, Walker.”
Walker didn’t want to hear that. “Don’t waste your time. Go read someone else.”
They had almost made it across the room when Walker’s doorbell sounded. “That’s probably Macon. He’s supposed to stop by today and check out that tractor he wants to buy from me.”
They had reached the door and, without checking to see who was on the other side, Walker opened it. Shocked, his mouth dropped open as his gaze raked over the woman standing there.
“Hello, Walker.”
He recovered, although not as quickly as he would have liked. “Bailey! What the hell are you doing here?”
Instead of answering, her gaze shifted to the man standing by his side. “Hey, you look like Riley,” she said, as her face broke into a smile.
It was a smile that Garth returned. “And you look like Charm.”
She chuckled. “No, Charm looks like me. I understand I’m older.”
“Excuse me for breaking up this little chitchat, but what are you doing here, Bailey?” Walker asked in an annoyed tone.
“Evidently she came here to see you, and on that note, I am out of here. I need to make that meeting,” Garth said, slipping out the door. He looked over his shoulder at Walker with an expression that clearly said, You have a lot of explaining to do.
To Bailey, Garth said, “Welcome to Hemlock Row. I’ll let the family know you’re here. Hopefully Walker will fly you into Fairbanks.”
“Don’t hold your breath for that to happen,” Walker said. He doubted Garth heard as he quickly darted to his parked car. His best friend had a lot of damn nerve. How dare he welcome anyone to Walker’s home?
Walker turned his attention back to Bailey, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach at seeing just how beautiful she looked. Nor did he want to concentrate on her scent, which had filled his nostrils the moment he’d opened the door.
Walker crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve asked you twice already and you’ve yet to answer,” he said in a harsh tone. “What are you doing here?”
Bailey blew out a chilled breath, wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to shiver. “Could you invite me inside first? It’s cold out here.”
He hesitated, as if he were actually considering doing just the opposite, and then he stepped back. She hurriedly came inside and closed the door behind her. She had dressed in layers, double the amount she would have used in Denver, yet she still felt chilled to the bone.
“You might as well come and stand in front of the fireplace to warm up.”
“Thanks,” she said, surprised he’d made the offer. After sliding the carry-on bag from her shoulders, she peeled off her coat, then her jacket and gloves.
Instead of renting a car, she had opted for a cab service, even though the ride from the airstrip had cost her a pretty penny. But she hadn’t cared. She’d been cold, exhausted and determined to get to Walker’s place before nightfall.
The cabbie had been chatty, explaining that Walker seldom got visitors and trying to coax her into telling him why she was there. She’d let him talk, and when he’d figured out she wasn’t providing any information, he’d finally lapsed into silence. But only for a little while. Then he’d pointed out a number of evergreen trees and told her they were mountain hemlocks, a tree common to Alaska. He’d told her about the snowstorm headed their way and said she’d made it to the island just in time or she would have been caught in it. Sounded to her as if she would get caught in it anyway since her return flight was forty-eight hours from now. The man had been born and raised on the island and had a lot of history to share.
When the cabbie had driven up to the marker for Hemlock Row, the beautiful two-story ranch house that sat on Walker’s property made her breath catch. It was like looking at a gigantic postcard. It had massive windows, multiple stone chimneys and a wraparound porch. It sat on the Shelikof Strait, which served as a backdrop that was simply beautiful, even if it was out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by snow. The only other house they’d passed had to be at least ten to fifteen miles away.
Walker’s home was not as large as Dillon’s, but like Dillon’s, it had a rustic feel, as if it belonged just where it sat.
“Drink this,” Walker said, handing her a mug filled with hot liquid. She hadn’t realized he’d left her alone. She’d been busy looking around at the furniture, which seemed warm and welcoming.
“Thanks.” She took a sip of what tasted like a mixture of coffee, hot chocolate and a drop of tea. It tasted delicious. As delicious as Walker looked standing directly in front of her, barefoot, with an open-collar sweater and jeans riding low on his hips. What man looked this mouthwatering so early in the day? Had it really been a week since she’d seen him last? A week when she’d thought about him every day, determined to make this trip to Kodiak Island, Alaska, to personally deliver the apology she needed to make.
“Okay, now that you’ve warmed up, how about telling me what you’re doing here.”
She lowered the cup and met his gaze. After telling Lucia and Chloe what she’d done and what she planned to do, they had warned her that Walker probably wouldn’t be happy to see her. She could tell from the look on his face that they’d been right. “I came to see you. I owe you an apology for what I said. What I suggested doing with that piece for the magazine.”
He frowned. “Why are you apologizing? Doing something so inconsiderate and uncaring seems to be so like you.”
His words hurt but she couldn’t get mad. That was unfortunately the way she’d presented herself since meeting him. “That goes to show how wrong you are about me and how wrong I was for giving you reason to think that way.”
“Whatever. You shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t think there’s anything you can do or say to change my opinion of you.”
That angered her. “I never realized you were so judgmental.”
“I’m as judgmental as you are.”
She wondered if all this bitterness and anger were necessary. Possibly, but at the moment she was too exhausted to deal with it. What should have been a fifteen-hour flight had become a twenty-two-hour flight when the delay of one connection had caused her to miss another. On top of everything else, due to the flight chaos, her luggage was heaven knew where. The airline assured her it would be found and delivered to her within twenty-four hours. She hoped that was true because she planned to fly out again in two days.