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me. And tell Patrick to hurry up and finish that roof of his.” He smiled, his blue eyes alive with mischief. “I’ve been practicing my chess game for the next time he comes to town.”
    Paul smiled and gave him a nod. “Will do.”
    The bell jangled and Albert stepped away to help another customer. Paul turned away from the counter and browsed a few of the shelves for any last-minute items while he finished up his soda. His thoughts wandered to Kate, and he glanced at her, wishing he could spend more time with her. The idea surprised him. It had been a long while since he’d wanted to spend time with any woman—not since Susan. He reached for his resolve, reminding himself that he’d never care about someone that deeply again.
    Kate stepped to the end of the grocery aisle, acting as if she wanted to say something. She offered him a small wave. “See ya.”
    Paul gave her a wave, stepped back to the counter to leave the empty soda bottle, and walked toward the door.
    Before he could step outside, Kate stopped him. “How about I take you up in my plane next time you come to town?” Her face looked flushed, and she hurried on. “You said it’s been a while and you enjoyed it. So how about a free ride?”
    Paul smiled. Was she was interested in him? Or maybe she was just trying to make a new friend. He decided it wouldn’t hurt. “Sounds good. We’ll do that.” His eyes rested on hers for just a moment, and her blush deepened. “I’ll see you in the spring.”
    Paul turned his dory northwest and headed out over the inlet. The bow cut easily through calm waters, but the boat’s small engine labored under the weight of the supplies.
    Clouds hugged the foothills of Mount Susitna. Paul studied the mountain known as “The Sleeping Lady.” If he used his imagination, he could see the silhouette of a woman reclining on her back, staring at the sky, her hair flowing down around her shoulders.
    A picture of Susan lying in the shade of an oak came at him from the past like a hurtling spear to impale his heart. The day had been hot and she’d decided to rest. He’d fished while she lay on the grass, gazing up through the leaves of the tree.
    God, how could you have allowed it? I trusted you. Then a voice in his head rebuked him. And she trusted you.

4
    S unlight burned brightly against Paul’s eyelids. Hoping to linger in sleep a little longer, he rested an arm over his eyes. It was no use. He was awake. In frustration, he rolled over and looked at the clock on the bureau—8:15. A list of chores rattled through his mind.
    Paul sat up and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. When his feet touched the floor, spikes of cold jolted him. He’d been so tired the previous night, he’d fallen into bed without starting a fire.
    He rested his arms on his thighs and stared at the floor. He remembered the woman he’d met at the mercantile. What was her name? Oh yeah, Kate. For a few moments he allowed himself to mull over the memory of the Alaskan newcomer. Then he forced all thoughts of her from his mind. He’d decided— no women, not ever.
    Blowing out a breath, he pushed his fingers through tousled hair, grabbed his pants and pulled them on, then fumbled his way into the kitchen. He lifted off the lid of the firebox, crumpled paper, and shoved it inside. After adding kindling, he lit the newsprint. Soon a small fire danced and popped. He added a couple larger pieces of wood and slid the firebox lid back in place.
    After filling a coffeepot with water from a hand pump in the sink, he tossed coffee grounds into the basket, and then set the aluminum percolator on the cooktop. With the pungent aroma of coffee in his nostrils, he moved to the sink and splashed his face with cold water. Shivering, he towel dried.
    Now fully awake, he fed chunks of alder and birch into the fire, enjoying the sound and smell of burning wood. Barking dogs announced a visitor. He glanced out the window just as Lily Warren stepped onto the