Sam's Folly (Midnight Sons Book 1) Read online

  Sam’s Folly

  Midnight Sons – Book One

  Carmen DeSousa

  A Romantic Suspense Series

  Sam’s Folly

  A Midnight Sons Novel

  Copyright© 2019 by Carmen DeSousa

  ISBN: 9781945143557

  www.CarmenDeSousaBooks.com

  www.WrittenMusings.com

  Cover Design: www.AustinWalp.com

  U.S.A.

  This is a fictional work. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, without the prior permission in writing, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles.

  For any other permission, please visit www.WrittenMusings.com for contact links.

  The Midnight Sons

  Men as Wild and Rugged as The Last Frontier Itself

  Five brothers risk their lives to rescue those caught in the death grip of the Alaska wilderness … and risk losing their hearts to women as tough as the Land of the Midnight Sun.

  Series Description

  The siren call of Alaska’s untamed wilderness, vast mountain ranges, and majestic glaciers draw thrill-seekers from around the globe. But with more unsolved missing person cases than anywhere else in the world, the Alaska Triangle has an ominous reputation. Enter the Midnight Sons, a team that risks their own lives to rescue those in peril.

  Being a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, though. The pay sucks, as does the fact that the team leaders must be ready to spring into action 24/7, 365 days a year — a lifestyle not conducive to a healthy love life. Worse, while the brothers are experts in their individual fields, they each harbor inner demons and secrets that threaten to tear their family apart... and jeopardize any chance of finding the women who could complete them.

  Book Description

  When a bigwig fight promoter needs someone to search for his missing fiancée, he hires expert tracker Sam Belgarde and his search dogs. Sam is more than a little reluctant. His family’s company, Search and Rescue Alaska, is in financial trouble, though, so if searching for a spoiled socialite will save it, then he’s willing to break the rules — just this once.

  After witnessing a murder, Nora Molina needs to get away — fast — and her best hope to escape without her passport is Alaska. A native of Argentina, Nora’s accustomed to harsh winters and high elevation, so she gets more than a little irritated when some tracker thinks she needs rescuing. Even if he is get-out sexy. And even if he’s the guy she stood up before leaving town. It’s going to be a long few days.

  When an unexpected storm rolls in, Sam and Nora find themselves in each other’s arms — to keep warm. Things get a little too hot when it’s clear someone wants the two of them to stay lost — permanently.

  Sam’s Folly

  A Midnight Sons Novel

  Chapter 1

  ~ Nora ~

  I should have worn a thicker coat …

  Nora Molina shivered, her teeth chattering as she tugged her hoodie farther down on her forehead and over her ears, doing her best to shield her face from the brisk Alaska air. Sure, she was in The Last Frontier, but it was May, for God’s sake. According to her research, Alaska’s summer season started in two weeks, which was the reason she needed to get on the trail quickly, ahead of the other hikers. Maybe it was the humidity. The damp air penetrated her cotton pullover, making her feel as if she’d hopped out of a shower and onto the tundra without enough sense to dry off.

  “Layers,” said the backpack instructor, his critical gaze picking her out among the class. “It may feel like summer here in Falcon Run, but on Denali, temps can fall below zero in hours. You have to be prepared for anything.”

  Feel like summer, she thought, at fifty degrees? Why was he even giving this demonstration outside? She must have become more accustomed to the temperate weather in Los Angeles than she’d realized over the last seven years. Her hometown of El Chaltén, Argentina certainly hadn’t been warm. She had to get used to the temperature here, though, the reason she’d left her blasted third layer in the rental car. She needed to save room in her backpack so she could pack enough food to last her a month, long enough that authorities would stop searching. She didn’t have space for long johns. If she could just stop shivering, maybe the instructor would stop focusing on her as if she didn’t belong among all these male backpackers.

  Not that she needed training, per se; she’d spent her childhood hiking with her father. But she’d chosen this refresher course because the instructor, Sam Belgarde, ran the highest-rated search-and-rescue team in Alaska. If anyone knew what to expect in the Land of the Midnight Sun, it’d be him, and she had to be prepared. She couldn’t risk failing.

  Sam … such an all-American name, a name that conveyed trust and confidence. If those qualities were really possible in a man. Get real, Nora! Remember the last man who promised to help you.

  I’ll take you to America, Sergio had said. Get you a job. You can send lots of money back to your mother. It’ll be great.

  Yeah. Right! If it’d been great, she wouldn’t be freezing her ass off right now. In Alaska, of all places.

  Still, if she pushed her cynicism aside for a second, she had to admit that she’d been taken aback by Sam’s boyish good looks, which were in stark contrast to his solid body. His broad shoulders and muscular arms — the exact build she’d hope a rescuer would have if she ever needed rescuing — filled out his plain black shirt. His warm chocolate eyes and tousled brown hair softened his hard lines. But then he’d turned those dusky eyes on her.

  As he lay out the contents of his backpack, explaining the importance of each item, he scanned the twenty-some backpackers who had gathered around the six-foot utility table. Each time, though, his gaze drifted to her, and his dark brows would sink, shadowing those inquisitive eyes. Why was he staring at her? She’d always been good at hiding her feelings, showing more courage than she felt. Living in Buenos Aires from the time she was fourteen had taught her that.

  He can’t possibly recognize me.

  She’d worn the largest, darkest sunglasses she owned. Even if he’d seen her before she shielded her long dark hair beneath the hoodie, he shouldn’t have recognized her. When she was in the ring, her hair had been blond — because her manager claimed that men preferred blondes. And her trainer had always applied dark shadow around her eyes to make her look meaner, more intimidating. When she viewed the playbacks, she hardly recognized herself.

  Not anymore. The previous morning, when she’d packed to leave L.A., she’d dyed her hair to match her natural color and left behind her makeup bag. As she’d stared at her reflection this morning, she’d seen a brief glimpse of the girl she’d been seven years ago, before Sergio had rescued her from the streets of Buenos Aires. Nora had wanted to help her mother, so that she wouldn’t have to continue working as a maid in her senior years. Following Sergio to the United States had seemed safe … smart, even.

  Hindsight’s a bitch!

  Her thoughts returned to the guide; she didn’t have time to dwell on the past.

  Sam systematically returned all the items to his backpack, then reached beneath the table, pulling up snowshoes and a bear canister. The crowd groaned, and one of the men closest to the table whined, “Snowshoes in May? How we even supposed to have room for extra clothes for layering if we have to make room for a
bear canister and snowshoes? Thought we’re in season, Sam.”

  Sam grinned. “You won’t be bellyachin’ when you’re post-holing up to your hips, or when a grizzly decides he’s still hungry after finishing off your snacks.” Thankfully, Sam now focused on someone other than her. “Just recently,” he continued, “we saw the most snowfall since the early 1960s. The point is, you never know, so you have to be prepared.”

  With the instructor’s attention elsewhere, she decided it was time to slip away unnoticed. Besides, she had received all the info she needed.

  The cloud cover had cleared some over the last hour, providing a stark break between the blue skies and white mountains. She stared off to the west, at the vast mountainous region that rested beyond the highway. The mountain range looked like a giant barrier blocking off an alien land that forbade outsiders. From the moment she’d landed in Anchorage, she’d been mesmerized by the snowcapped mountains that reminded her of her youth in El Chaltén … of her father. Of a time when she’d felt safe and loved.

  A wave of longing and grief swept over her, as unexpected as the snow Sam had just mentioned. Even though the tops of the mountains were white, evergreens and birch trees lined the highways and trails. She gritted her teeth to push back the heartache before a stupid tear slipped out. She refused to cry. Like her mother had said, Mi’ja, you must forge forward and keep it all inside. And she had. For the last seven years, Nora had ignored the truth. She wouldn’t ignore the lies and deceit anymore.

  She took a deep breath. Life was what it was. Crying about what fate had dealt her and the poor choices she’d made wouldn’t change anything. Only she could alter her path — literally. She shook her head and turned to leave. Over the next two days, she’d stock up at a couple different stores, and then head out, hopefully long before Sergio sent someone to find her.

  ~ Sam ~

  Sam couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering to the only woman in his class. Unlike most of the women who attended his crash course on backpacking — typically large groups of ladies who wanted to mark off one of the adventures on their bucket lists — she appeared to be all alone. She hadn’t spoken with any of the men in the group. And instead of crowding around the table, she’d stood back about twenty feet, arms folded.

  Did that mean she intended to hike Denali solo? As much as he enjoyed peace and quiet, even he didn’t climb The Great One on his own. And showing up to this course wearing nothing but a cotton hoodie … what was that all about? Was she trying to get attention? Well, technically, he didn’t look dressed for Alaska either, since he’d chosen to wear just a long-sleeve T-shirt. But that’s because he lived in Falcon Run. Fifty-five degrees felt like heaven after four months of temperatures in the single digits. And the sun … God, how he missed the sun during the winter months. He wanted to soak in as much vitamin D as possible after the long winter, when he had been lucky to see four or five hours of sunlight daily.

  Most people freaked this time of the year when they looked out their window at midnight and it was still light out. He loved it.

  As he droned on about rules and requirements for backpacking Denali, he glanced to where the woman had been standing. She had walked away from his lesson and was staring out at the mountains. Her shoulders lifted and fell, as if she were upset. Then she strolled toward the parking area.

  Of all the nerve. Walking out on my class. He didn’t even charge for his refresher course. The least she could do was give him the entire thirty minutes.

  She suddenly stopped, then batted at an invisible assailant. She launched backward, nearly falling over the split-rail fence that marked the property line.

  “DEET!” he barked, attempting to hold back a laugh. The woman wanted to hike Denali and she was afraid of a blasted mosquito. “If you hadn’t dropped out of my class, I was getting to that part.”

  The woman turned. Ah … guilt. Good! He’d take it. Obviously, she realized he’d been calling out to her. Maybe she didn’t really intend to hike Denali, but had just happened upon his class. Either way, he had an uncontrollable desire to meet her. Any woman who gazed at the majestic Alaska Range with as much longing as she had was a woman he wanted to get to know.

  Her only response was to furrow her dark brows. At least he assumed she drew them together based on the small crease above her blacked-out sunglasses.

  He challenged her glare with one of his own. “You plan to hike Denali, ma’am?”

  The woman crossed her arms, offering him a stiff nod.

  “I was just getting to my ropes refresher course. Knowing how to tie the correct knot can be the difference between life and death. You know how to tie a half hitch?”

  She twisted her mouth, then huffed when the other spectators turned to acknowledge her as well.

  “Yes,” she said curtly, jaw clenched.

  “Come on up, then.” He flashed a wide grin, something he hadn’t done in what seemed like forever. “Show these men how it’s done.”

  The woman forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re quite capable of showing them.”

  Her voice held just the slightest of accents. South American, maybe? Yes, definitely. What little he could see of her face revealed exquisitely bronzed skin. Not the bottled-orange look, as many women here ended up with. And the few stray hairs that whipped her face were black as midnight.

  Intrigued, he crooked his finger for her to come up. “Please,” he said. “I’ve already been challenged a couple times today. It’s time someone else steps up. Besides, I must be boring, since I have folks walking out on me.”

  The woman released an exasperated sigh but walked forward. The men stepped back, immediately making way for the shapely and apparently irritated woman.

  As she approached the table, she removed her leather gloves, revealing more of her beautiful skin. “Here, hold these.”

  Sam accepted the gloves with one hand, handing her a 550 line with the other.

  She dropped her head a notch, staring above the frame of her sunglasses. Dark green eyes, the color of jade, held his. Without shifting her intense gaze from him, her long fingers had already started working the knot.

  The woman handed him the half hitch, then held out her hand. “Give me another line.” He obeyed, and with her eyes still holding his, she proceeded to tie a bowline knot with one hand. She dropped the paracord then raised a brow, as if challenging him to another test. Her full pink lips quirked up. “Give me something hard next time.” She’d spoken so low that he doubted anyone else had heard her. She turned and strolled off as he stared, dumbfounded.

  What a woman! He gulped, licking his suddenly dry lips.

  Sam stared out at the stupid grinning faces of the men who had parted once again, making a way for her to escape. Just as quickly as they’d separated, the men gravitated back, filling the empty space the woman had left.

  “All right,” he muttered hastily. “Make sure you grab a safety manual before you leave. The booklet contains great emergency info if you find yourself in a bind.” He skirted the table, nearly hopping it as he tried to intercept the woman before the others inundated him with questions.

  “Sam?” said the man who’d challenged him about snowshoes.

  Sam held up a finger. “Just a sec.” The woman was already hustling toward the parking lot. Nearly all of the people who attended his refresher course on backpacking had additional questions. Why was she running off? Because she’d shown him up?

  “Sir?” The eldest gentleman in today’s class stepped in front of him. “You said that your company leads a trip. Is there a sign-up form? I think you’re right. I’m not sure I want to challenge Mount McKinley on my own.”

  Sam forced a smile. “Good idea. There’s a clipboard on the table. My brother’s leading a group in a couple weeks.”

  Another man held out his hand. “I heard you were the youngest boy to climb Denali.”

  Sam craned his head around the additional men closing in on him. “I heard that rumor too.” He chuckled. �
�I was twelve the first time my father took me up, but we didn’t care about telling folks. Climbing was just part of our daily life. An eleven-year-old boy recently summited Denali, though, so either way, I’m out.”

  The man laughed. “Ah … so maybe it’s not as hard as you make it out to be.”

  “Maybe not.” Sam forced a laugh, irritated. “I’m getting old, I guess. Excuse me just a second, gentlemen; there’s someone I need to speak with.”

  The line of men finally shuffled out of the way, the synthetic material of their insulated jackets swishing as they moved. Seemed everyone was dressed for Alaska except him and the mysterious woman.

  Finally free of the group, Sam stared forlornly at the retreating bumper of a Ford Taurus with Anchorage plates. More than likely a rental. If a new woman had moved to town, he would have already heard. News traveled fast in Falcon Run, but no news traveled faster than word of a new resident, especially a female resident when you were one of five single brothers. If his mother didn’t inform him that a prospective wife just moved to town — or back, which was more common — one of the older women who’d known him since he’d been in diapers definitely would.

  Oh well, such was life in Falcon Run. He turned back to the men, ready to answer their questions, and pushed away thoughts of the beautiful woman who’d stared out at the mountains as if she were lost.

  As he walked, he looked down at his hands. She’d forgotten her gloves.

  Chapter 2

  ~ Sam ~

  Sam allowed the fusion of country-rock music to fade into the background as he soaked in the sights and sounds of the local tavern and its patrons.