Why dont you like me, Gage?
She hitched her chin up a notch, studying him with blue eyes capable of bending unsuspecting men to her will.
As far as I can tell, Karenna, you ran out on your wedding. What youre doing here in a wedding dress is anyones guess. Why didnt you change on the way? Or did you think the men here would be rubes, easily tricked into marrying you, so you didnt bother to change?
Believe me, if you are anything like the rest of the men in this town, then I want to sue that magazine for false reporting. You are hardly hunky, marriage-minded or charming. Okay, maybe shed gotten carried away. Gage Parker was hunky, but that was about all the good she could say about him.
Alaskan Bride Rush: Women are flocking to the Land of the Midnight Sun with marriage on their minds
JILLIAN HART
grew up on her familys homestead, where she helped raise cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isnt working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.
Klondike Hero
Jillian Hart
www.millsandboon.co.uk
The Lord is near to all who call upon Him.
Psalms 145:18
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Prologue
Karenna Digby pulled her car in front of the diner in nowhere, Washington Stateshe had no idea where she wasand grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. The lace cuff of her sleeve caught on the emergency brake. Stupid wedding dress. She was tired, heartbroken and starving. She couldnt remember when shed last had a real meal, since shed been dieting to fit into her gown for months.
She shoved open the door, the tap of rain on her face felt like the tears she could not shed. She grabbed her purse and her dresss train, planted her expensive white shoes on either side of a huge puddle. Yes, she would have to park in a puddle. That was the way her dayher would-be wedding daywas going. She slammed the door and spotted the Just Married sign on her back window.
Stupid sign. She skirted the puddle, tossed her train over the crook of her arm and tore at it. It ripped in half, one piece sticking stubbornly to the window. What had her sisters used to adhere it to the glass? Superpowered glue? It wouldnt come off.
The heavens opened, and the rain turned to a torrential downpour. Leaving the tattered half of the sign for later, she wove around the puddles on the worn blacktop. She could only hope she didnt look as bedraggled as she feltthen she caught her reflection in the diners windows and groaned at the lonely bride with wilting roses braided into her hair.
Table for two? The gum-cracking waitress asked at the rickety podium that served as a hostess stand.
No. Theres just me.
I see. Sorry to hear it. Once that happened to me, too, honey. She led the way down the aisle in sensible rubber shoes that squeaked with her gait. What you have to do is not let it get to you. Get back up, shake off the hurt and find you another man. Dont let one bad seed ruin your attitude about love.
Thanks. She slipped into the booth patched with duct tape and let the train fall to the bench beside her. At least she wasnt the only bride in history to have been left at the altar. It just felt that way.
Menus are on the table. The waitress pulled a pad out of her pocket. What you want to drink, hon?
Coffee, please. She would start with that. Her stomach might be growling, but she wasnt sure she could keep down anything more than liquids. Devastation hung on her like a lead weight. She thought of her familys fury at her, and her younger sisters, both married of course, patting her consolingly. Hell come to his senses, Kim had said. You just have to be patient with him, Katie had advised.
Patient? She wanted to be married. She had the dress. Shed had the groom. She had a future as Alans wife all mapped out. How could he do this to her? Her two-carat engagement ring sparkled as she reached for the worn, laminated menus tucked between the paper napkin dispenser and the wall. She didnt know what to do. Shed dated Alan for seven years. Theyd been high-school sweethearts and attended the University of Washington together, strolling hand in hand down the tree-lined avenues and along picturesque walkways, and studying in their favorite carrels in the undergraduate library.
Now that was all gone. All the love and hope vanished as if theyd never been.
Send me a sign, Lord. Please. Show me what to do. She yanked the menu free, and bold print caught her eye. There was a magazine tucked against the wall, its pages folded over to an article with a catchy headline. Treasure Creek, Alaska, Seeks Brides for Hunky Habitants! Rain dripped off her hair as she seized the magazine and spread it out on the table in front of her. Hunky men were looking for brides? Was this for real?
Sure enough, the picture above the headline showed a small town, tucked into the gentle embrace of thick, lush forests and reaching, breathtaking mountains. Another picture, inset into the article, showed a long-angled shot of a cute old-fashioned town and a sign that read, Welcome to Treasure Creek.
A customer left that behind. The waitress returned, overturned the cup and poured. Interesting article. If I was single, I might hop in the car and go take a look. I mean, good, decent single men are hard to find.
And even when you do, they have commitment issues.
Amen, sister. The waitress set the carafe down and hauled out her notepad. Does anything on the menu look good?
Maybe she could eat. She ordered a cup of soup and a club sandwich and turned her attention back to the Now Woman magazine article.
Think all the good men are taken? Not so in tiny, charming Treasure Creek, Alaska, population 724. The hunky inhabitants are churchgoing, marriage-minded single men in a town with one woman for every five men! Many of them are tour guides for the towns popular tour company, Alaskas Treasures.
Churchgoing and marriage-minded sounded good. In fact, it sounded heaven-sent. She grabbed the sugar jar and upended it over the steaming cup, stirring it into the black, tarry brew as she kept reading.
Alaskas Treasures is run by the founders widow, Amy James. Theyre the best tour guides in the state, she says, proudly. And theyre the hottest, ladies. A handsome pediatrician, originally from the big city, moonlights as a tour guide along the famous Klondike Highway, the very route taken by the gold rush stampede of 1898. No worries if you break a nail on the trail, ladies, hell be right there to mend it!
A glossy photograph of a totally hunky man with brownish hair and blue eyes stared back at her. The caption underneath the picture stated jauntily, Doctor Alex Havens is single, ladies!
Not bad. Karenna took a sip of coffee, let the heat and sweetness roll over her tongue. Rain sluiced down the window, smearing the view of the outside world, making the small diner seem cozy and the agony of the morning fade a notch. If only she could make her despair fade, too.
A muffled electronic chime rang from inside her purse. She unzipped the compartment and checked her cell. Her sister calling. Karenna squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the humiliation. Her stomach knotted, knowing what Kim would say. All that money, and no wedding. All the time spent, and for nothing. Come back and try to fix things.
She took a deep breath and let it ring. She wasnt up to talking about her failures right now. What she needed was hope. Shed spent seven years of her life on a man who ran at the reality of marrying her. Shed wasted seven years loving someone who didnt truly love her back.
When she opened her eyes, the article stared up at her. She turned the page and several more hunky men smiled up at her, all proclaimed bachelors, each handsome face looking like Mr. Right. Maybe these Alaska bachelors were the kind of men who knew how to keep promises and make commitments, men of honor and great of heart. Interested, she kept reading.
So many of the guides, from the hunky chief of police to the strapping commercial fishermen, are among Alaskas Most Eligible bachelors. So, ladies, if youre looking for the adventure vacation of a lifetime that just might last a lifetime, what are you waiting for?
Thirty-eight hours, forty-two minutes and a few coffee breaks later
Chapter One
Ive got more diapers and formula, Gage Parker grumbled into the pay phone on the corner of the towns main street. Treasure Creek, Alaska, sandwiched between rugged snowcapped peaks and pristine forests, was an old gold-rush town currently jam-packed with women, thanks to some magazine article. He couldnt hear a single word his grandmother said, because a pair of fancy women strolled by the booth, talking and giggling and commenting on how quaint everything was.
He didnt like quaint and he didnt like giggling women. Women were everywhere in a town where females were usually scarce. Theyd all flown in with their mounds of luggage and driven in with their city carsnot a four-wheel-drive among them. Even in the falling twilight, he could see them. They strolled the sidewalks, took up tables at Lizbets Diner and went exploring in the wilderness, which is why he was out at nine forty-five at night when any sensible person would be home. But no, some clueless woman had gotten herself stuck halfway up a cliff this evening and hed been on the search-and-rescue team that rapelled down to save her.
I didnt know rock climbing would be so hard, the clueless gal had breathlessly explained, once she was clipped in and safely against his chest. She smiled coyly up at him. My, dont you have strong arms.
Ugh. The lack of needy women was one of the big draws for moving from Seattle back to Alaska. His grandmother needing help had been the other.
Sounds like all kinds of commotion is going on, Gran chirped, downright chipper on the other end of the line. She would be. Nothing tickled her more than that article telling about how Treasure Creeks men wanting for wives seriously outnumbered the available women. Any of those gals catch your fancy, Gage?
Wishful thinking on your part. There would have to be something wrong with a woman to want to get tangled up with the likes of me. He had proof of that in his ex-wife, who had been one of those women whod wanted a wedding but not marriage. Shed seen her vows as merely a suggestion on how to behave as a wife. Anything else you need me to do in town?
Ill take pity on you, my boy, and I wont tell you to find a nice girl and bring her on homeat least this time. You already know the baby could use a mama.
Oh, she was having a heyday. Gage shook his head, trying to drum up some patience. He didnt want to hurt the elderly womans tender feelings. My nephew is doing just fine with the two of us. What I need is to find the right nanny, not a wifejust so were clear on that.
That wont stop me from praying the right woman for you comes along.
Great. More prayers. Just what he needed. God had better things to do than trying to fix the impossible. The darkness hed seen in his recent life had only reinforced that. His baby nephews mother had died, his brother had been too busy to raise the child and dumped him off just shy of a week ago. Ben James, Gages boss and one of his close friends, had died in an on-the-job accident in January, leaving his wife, Amy, a widow, with two young sons and a struggling business. Not to mention his own fight to recover from a bitter divorce. That was plenty enough disillusion to go around.
Yep, there didnt seem much reason to believe God was up there looking out for him. Not these days. He shook his head. Gran, Im going to pretend you didnt say that and head home.
You and that surly disposition of yours. You had better shape up. You never know when your future wife will come along and you go and scare her off. Why, you could meet her on the street tonight.
Sure, she could fall from the sky like manna from heaven. He did his best not too sound too cynical. His grandmother was a firm believer. He didnt want to mar that for her. He wished he had her strength of faitha strength she maintained despite all her lifes hardships.
He ended the call and grumbled because his cell phone had run out of juice. He wove around another pair of women dressed up in what they thought was Alaska garb, who probably had bought their pricey outfits in some fancy boutique in Beverly Hills. Ridiculous. Thoroughly disgruntled, he hopped into his four-wheel-drive. He pulled his black SUV away from the curb and had to wait for someone in a Porschewhat were people thinking?to squeeze into a space between a tractor and an ancient pickup, before he could motor away from the madness.
On the outskirts of town, he breathed a pent-up sigh of relief. He hadnt dealt with traffic congestion since hed been commuting across Seattles Evergreen Bridge twice a day.
His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. By the time hed turned off the main road from town and headed home, twilight was deepening. He switched the vehicles headlights to bright. The beams swept the shadowed, narrow two-lane road, illuminating undergrowth, a long wood fence line and two grazing deer, who fled into the woods.
Something reflected up ahead. He slowed down, a bad feeling settling into his gut. It looked like dark taillights and the back window of a sports car. Not a car he recognized, and he knew everyone who lived on this road. Not one of his neighbors would be foolish enough to own a car they couldnt drive when the weather turned and the roads muddied up.
Probably another one of those desperate women.
Great. Just what he needed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. Tension seeped back into his muscles. He slowed down, close enough to make out a faded-purple Fiat perched on the narrow shoulder. The hood was up and the car appeared abandoned. A torn sign hung from the back window, bearing a single, bright pink word: Just.