"I could use some more salt. Used the last of it on a brine when the silver salmon were running and forgot it on my trip to the store yesterday." Chop. "You might want to see about getting Doc Janson to look at you, too, while you're there." Chop.
"Probably should." She'd been taking prenatal vitamins since she got a positive pregnancy test, and she'd been scared of visiting a doctor in Miles's neck of the woods, but out here, it was time to learn as much as she could about her options and what her body was going through.
"You can take my truck today, but from here on, you'll have to take a four-wheeler, snowmobile, or a horse because I'll be out of town again starting tomorrow."
At the mental image of her on horseback, she stifled a snort. That wasn't going to happen in a trillion years. Like they could read her uncharitable thoughts, one of the winter-furred beasts bugled from a corral nearby.
The bigger of the two dogs lay near Aanon, but the puppy was making her way to Farrah on her belly. Little biscuit beggar.
She was cute, with a gray and white coat and one floppy ear. One of her eyes was icy blue while the other was the color of good whiskey. "What kind of dog is she?"
"Guess."
"Husky?" she asked. She really wasn't confident in dog breeds, never having owned one herself. Dogs and tiny city apartments didn't mix well.
"And?"
Okay, so she was at least part husky. Her giant paws surely gave something away but she hadn't a guess at what. Shrugging, she tossed the pup a chunk of biscuit. "Beats me."
"Gray wolf."
Maybe if the puppy wasn't rolling in the snow and putting on a show for more treats, Farrah would have been more worried. "Where did you get her?"
"Neighbor's dog got pregnant and had one live pup. Nobody wants a wolf, and he was going to put her down, so I took her. She'll be a little hellion when she gets older, and I'm sure she'll make me regret saving her hide later down the road. She'll probably eat my chickens," he muttered.
"Oh, you wouldn't eat poor little defenseless chickens, now would you?" Farrah cooed as the dog scooted under her waiting hand.
Aanon stood and rested his hands on his hips. Breathing heavily, he said, "Luna. Her name is Luna, and she's all yours while you stay here. Keep her out of trouble, will you?"
"Can she stay in my place with me?"
"If you want to take on potty training a wolf, be my guest."
Farrah's gaze drifted down to Luna who was squirming under her scratching fingers with a goofy dog grin and her tongue lolled out to the side. She'd never had a dog before, and a fierce protectiveness washed over her. She'd train Luna to be a good companion and prove Aanon wrong.
"Can I take her into town with me?"
"I don't care. She isn't truck trained, though, so you'll have to tie her in the bed when you go into a store. The other dog over here is named Bruno. He's mine, but you'll be feeding them both when I'm gone." Tugging the keys from his pocket, he asked, "You know how to drive a truck?"
"I learned to drive on a truck," she said, snatching the tossed keys out of the air.
"Well, now that is a surprise."
"I'm full of surprises, Mr. Falk."
"I bet you are," he murmured as she made kissing noises for Luna to follow her.
The pup jumped clumsily into the front seat and Farrah turned the engine. Okay, now she needed to get it into gear. In New York, she'd taken subways and taxis or just walked where she needed to go. It had been many years since she'd driven anything as big as a truck.
Finding drive, she pulled carefully onto the snow-covered road. She'd paid close attention the night before so she'd know how to get to and from her new home without having to ask Aanon. The more independent she could become, the better. She never wanted to depend on a man like she had on Miles.
Men just let you down, and she'd be damned if she was going to need someone like that ever again.
Chapter Four
A sense of relief flooded Aanon when Farrah had decided to run errands in town. He'd work faster without her there, distracting him with her fruit-smelling hair and waiting smile. A deliberate discussion needed to be started about how serious preparing for winter around here was. He had one day to get a million things done before he had to head out of town to finish up a construction job he'd landed. At this point, even one missed day of work at the job site could spell disaster. He needed the money, or everything fell apart.
It wasn't often that winter snow held so early in October, and if his instincts were right, this part of Alaska would thaw again and give a couple more weeks to prepare for the nine months of snow and ice. Three months of beautiful weather during the summer months left very little time to grow and collect the food he'd need through winter. And that was feeding just him. Now, whether he liked to admit it or not, he would be responsible for making sure Farrah didn't starve, too. She'd be locked up there at the cattleman's cabin for months, and so would he when the snow was too deep to plow. The garden had produced well and could probably sustain them both if he could get everything preserved and into the root cellar. Most of the beans, carrots, lettuce, spinach, kale, cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, and okra he'd picked the week before, he had stacked in plastic containers filled with sawdust to preserve them beneath the house. He had enough salmon, beef, and halibut to keep himself comfortably fed, but now Farrah was there late in the hunting season, and the last thing he wanted to do was get caught with three more months of snowy winter and no way to bring in protein. That was too dangerous a gamble.
All day he'd been crunching the numbers and rearranging the meat store in his mind. Now, they'd need 150 pounds of fish and 150 to 200 pounds of red meat to feed both of them. Protein was all important to surviving a frigid Alaskan winter on a homestead. His cattle were used to barter and sell, but if it came down to it, he was going to have to butcher one of them, and that was something he really didn't want to do.
Brushing mounds of snow from the tractor, he hopped into the seat and turned the engine. It roared to life, and he sped down the road to grab another cord of firewood to split. The beetles had come through and devastated some of the trees a couple of years back, leaving dead, dry wood in their path. Perfect for burning. All he had to do was cut the dead logs down and drag them back home to chop.
Three hours of hauling, chain sawing, and ax swinging later, he had another cord stacked on the front porch. A sharp bark from Bruno announced someone was headed up the road, and Aanon's heart beat a little faster as he tried to ignore his old truck picking its way through the snow drifts.
"Hey," Farrah called, like they'd known each other for years.
He took a drag of frigid water from a canteen hanging on the arm of the porch bench and nodded a greeting.
She wore tight, black leggings tucked into fur-lined snow boots, and her parka was fitted and covered her ass completely. She was agile and energetic, but at the end of this next season, she'd be so full of child, she'd hate moving in the cold.
Luna feigned fear of jumping from the cab of the truck, and Farrah pulled the overgrown pup from the bench seat and set her free. With two grocery bags clutched to her chest, Farrah sent him a timid smile and disappeared into her cabin.
He would've ran electricity to the place if he'd ever in a hundred years thought he'd be renting to a woman. A pregnant woman, at that. Oh, he'd gotten way in over his head on this one.
He finished stacking the last row of newly chopped wood just as she reemerged with a box of salt and a picture. When she shoved the picture into his hands, he almost dropped it in the snow when he figured out what it was.
Farrah's lips were set in a grim line. Doctor Janson thinks maybe late March from the baby's size."
"You going to keep the baby?"
Her gaze dropped to the tips of his boots. "I picked up some pamphlets on adoption. I haven't decided yet whether to keep it or give it to a family who could provide a better life for it. Aanon?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever seen one of those pictures before?"
His gaze dropped to the little black and white photo in his hands, and his heart ached. "Yes."
"It's just … " Her bottom lip trembled, and she pursed it. "I can't tell where the baby is. And Dr. Janson just kept talking on and on, and the longer he talked, the stranger I felt asking him where my own baby was, so I just took the picture and didn't ask. And then he drew my blood, and I left."