“Thanks, Eva.”
She grunted around another mouthful. How did someone so small eat so much? He watched her polish off a full plate and then fill it up with a huge cinnamon roll. Was she only eating for two?
“Did you sleep all right, Aidan?” Fiona asked.
“Fine, thanks. The lodge is very comfortable.”
“What are your plans?”
“I need to go through Earl’s things and—according to his will—spread his ashes over the gold claim.”
“It’ll be hard getting to Trapper’s Creek this time of year. You’ll need a snow machine and good weather to make it safely through the pass. Promise me you won’t attempt it alone.”
Who was he going to get to accompany him? No one in this town would want to attend the sprinkling of Earl Harte’s ashes. But he nodded. He ate and then covered his foot with the ski mask Eva had found and was waiting in the main room for Raven when she pulled up in a big black Suburban. A mean, tough-looking gas hog.
He wished he could drive it.
Aidan met her on the wooden covered porch. The sun had started to rise, a faint peach blush in the east, casting the hills in dark shadows. The snow had blanketed everything in big white puffy shapes. Limbs drooped, heavy with snow. It looked like a fairytale Christmas card. The sky was a dark blue that would lighten with the sun until the combination of white-covered landscape and bright blue sky hurt the eyes to look at it. His sunglasses were in his rental. He’d had his wallet in the pocket of his coat. Eva had saved it from his jean pocket before tossing out the pants she’d cut off of him.
He knew he looked a sight, one leg in a hiking boot, the other covered in a ski mask. But this being Alaska, nobody would look twice at his crazy get-up. He hobbled to the end of the porch, looking at the slick ice and snow gleaming over the parking lot. While he’d put pressure on his bad leg, he didn’t want to slip and come down hard on it.
Raven jumped out of the Suburban, jogged around to the passenger door and opened it. She parked so that he wouldn’t have to walk far. But it was still ten feet or more. She approached and took his arm to help steady him on the ice-covered ground.
“Just take it slow. We aren’t in any hurry.”
He raised a brow. “What about you saying you had to get back early? That you had a lot to do?”
“I always have more to do than I can get done. Doesn’t mean that you have to hurry. Chances are if you push it, we’ll both end up on our butts, and this will take longer.”
She had a point. They reached the Suburban. “Nice rig,” he said admiring the leather seats.
“I like it.” She held his crutches while he grabbed the handle above his head and stepped on the running boards to propel himself onto the seat. The seat was heated. And she had turned it on for him. Heaven.
Raven opened the back door. He glanced behind him to see the seats down and the back of the Suburban filled with boxes. She placed the crutches to the side, shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s side, and got in. She clicked her seatbelt in place and looked at him. “Ready to fly this coop?”
He smiled. “As the crow flies, or should I say raven?” That must have hit too close to what he’d said last night, because her expression shut down. She turned her attention to the road as she put the SUV in gear, the four-wheel drive already engaged.
“I think we’ve exhausted the bird clichés.” She turned onto the Steese Highway, which would take them past Fox, another gold mining town, and then into Fairbanks. Though the trek was only thirty miles, it would take them at least an hour or more with the road conditions. The Steese wasn’t known for a smooth, pleasant drive. The road was plagued with frost heaves that changed yearly due to the freeze and thaw of the permafrost under the asphalt. The posted speed limit was fifty, but you were crazy to travel at such high speeds in the winter. Those who did usually ended up in the ditch, crashed into a tree, or plowing into a wayward moose.
Raven put in a Jon Bon Jovi CD. He admired the way she handled the big rig, her hands lightly placed on the wheel, confident in her ability.
“Quit it,” she said, her attention on the road. “Quit looking at me.”
“I can’t help it.” He wanted her. Always had. He knew now that what he had tried to feel for Sonya was based on her similarities to Raven. Both were capable, confident women. Both came from well-adjusted families, unlike his severely dysfunctional one. “You’ve grown into a strikingly, beautiful woman, Raven.”
She glanced at him, her eyes quickly returning to the road. “Don’t flatter me. It won’t work. I’m not sleeping with you.”