Sam's Folly (Midnight Sons Book 1) Page 2

  He hadn’t wanted to come to Grizzly’s. The bar, though familiar, was a dive, and he was apt to get into trouble. He’d wanted to hit up one of the civilized bars in Talkeetna. One of the establishments that roughnecks — and his family — usually steered away from. He certainly wouldn’t find his mysterious woman here. But the youngest member in his family wanted to have his 21st birthday at Grizz’s, where all the Midnight Sons had celebrated coming of age.

  As long as it’d been since Sam had come here, nothing had changed. He’d swear that even the regulars screaming every time their team scored were the same folks who’d caterwauled Happy Birthday to him seventeen years ago, on his twenty-first birthday.

  Everything in the bar was either stained or painted a deep rustic brown. Soot-colored pine timbers made up the walls. Boot-scuffed planks served as the floor. And the heavy door, as slick and black as Alaska oil, kept out the bright sunlight and frigid winds. With twenty hours of sunlight daily, the dive bar was the only place in Falcon Run to experience a real nightlife.

  Soccer fans drummed their feet and fists, screaming, “Goooooool!” Many launched themselves from barstools. Most of the year, hockey or football dominated the screens, but this was May. Even Alaskans cheered their favorite teams, excited to see which ones would advance to the World Cup. The establishment was broadcasting the game on nearly every TV, but the real devotees were huddled at the bar.

  One of the Pipeline workers — Sam had seen the roughneck around town — staggered backward, causing the waitress to swerve and splash Sam.

  Her front teeth biting her lower lip, she dabbed at Sam’s black shirt with a cocktail napkin. “Sorry, Sam.”

  Sam winked at her as he nudged the man back toward the bar. “No worries, Gina. It was only a few drops.” He’d gone out with Gina a few times. Years ago … maybe ten; he wasn’t sure exactly. He’d been in a bad place then, he remembered. Of course, seeing someone he hadn’t dated was unusual. With less than two thousand year-round residents, single people tended to make the rounds. At thirty-eight, he’d dated more than his share of locals, though, and he wasn’t one to repeat past mistakes. Dating visitors wasn’t smart either, but he couldn’t help thinking about the woman who’d taken off earlier. He’d hung her gloves over his rearview mirror, hoping he’d see her again. At least he’d have an excuse to approach her if he did.

  Gina handed out the drinks. Only two of the five mugs held drafts, one for his mother and one for the birthday boy. The other three were just water. One of the downsides to running a search-and-rescue team was that, other than a sick day or vacation, he was on-call 24/7, 365 days a year. For him and his team, that meant no drinking. Not even one light beer. And since it’d been forever since Sam had taken a sick day, even longer since he’d actually gone on vacation, he’d been dry for several years. Not all rescue workers felt the same way, especially in Alaska where drinking was pretty much a required pastime.

  Alex, the next eldest and Sam’s only full brother, accepted his mug of water from Gina and wrapped his arm around the birthday boy’s neck. “So, your first drink, Daire —” A few coughs and a loud guffaw had Alex scanning the faces around the bar. Even their mother was doing her best not to spew out the sip she’d just taken. “Okay, your first legal drink,” he said. “What should we drink to?”

  “Hmmmm …” Daire stared up at the exposed rafters as though he was contemplating an answer. “Got it! I’m gonna drink to the fact that now that I’m twenty-one, Sam will stop treating me like a kid and start treating me like the expert whitewater rescue guide I’m gonna be.”

  Erik, their adopted brother from the time he was five, smacked Daire’s back. “Gotta earn that one, baby brother. I’m older than you, and I’m still fightin’ that battle.”

  “You’re only six years older —” Daire set down his mug without taking a sip, shifting his beleaguered look to their mother. “Baby brother. See how they treat me, Mom?”

  Claire Belgarde tipped back her mug. “It’s okay, honey. You know you’ll always be my favorite.” Although their mother still worked in the family business, she no longer worked search and rescue, so she tended to indulge in a drink or two. Made the nights shorter and kept the nightmares at bay, she’d confessed once. Claire had been an expert climber, one of the few team members who could spider any rock face. But she’d retired her climbing gear and boots after his father died. Now, Erik led the mountaineering expeditions and rescues. With his trim but amazingly strong frame, there wasn’t a crag he couldn’t scale.

  Claire had brushed off Daire’s words, but Sam couldn’t. Sam didn’t know if he could ever stop treating Daire like a kid — his kid. Although his parents had raised Daire as their child, and he’d tried to treat Daire the same as he did his other brothers — blood and adopted — he couldn’t. He also couldn’t figure out how to tell Daire that he was his father and that the woman Daire had called Mom from the time he uttered his first word was actually his grandmother.

  “Well,” Daire continued, “that’s what I’m drinking to. Oh, and that Vince makes it home tonight. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen his goofy grin.”

  “When he gets off the boat,” Alex grumbled under his breath, “he might go away permanently for murdering his wife after he finds out what she did.”

  Sam started to admonish Alex for his snide comment, especially when Vince wasn’t even there to defend himself, but a stirring of the crowd caught his attention.

  “Make way,” a resonant, raspy voice sliced through the throng of chattering drinkers, parting them like the Red Sea. “I got a party to attend.”

  The entire family lowered their mugs and scanned the bar. That familiar booming voice belonged to their brother Vince. Not really a brother. Not even adopted. As if he’d been a lost pup, Vince had followed Erik home in grade school and had been a family member ever since.

  “Vince!” Daire set down his untouched mug and rushed to the man who was as much of a brother as any man could want. The two men, although separated by more than seven years, embraced each other like long-lost twins reuniting. “I didn’t think you were gonna make it.”

  “Miss my baby brother’s most important birthday? Never!” Vince leaned back, appraising the younger man’s enhanced physique. Daire had been pounding protein and working out like an Olympiad. In the last few months, he’d gone from a scrawny adolescent to a strapping man. Vince, a hulk of a man himself, squared off with Daire, squeezing both of his shoulders. “I see you’ve been getting ready.”

  “Hell, yeah! Been waiting years for this day.” Daire tossed a grimace over his shoulder. “Ridiculous that I had to wait until I turned twenty-one to join the team when I’ve been paddling white water and climbing mountains nearly ten years.”

  Sam cast his gaze upward. “Rules are rules, Daire.” He circled the table, and Vince stepped back so the family could take turns hugging the brother they hadn’t seen in several months. As Sam backed away, he searched for any indication that Vince knew about his wife.

  Vince narrowed his eyes as he took in everyone’s serious gazes. The family had always been able to read one another’s thoughts with little more than an eyebrow raise, an invaluable skill when you didn’t have time to talk on a rescue.

  He obviously saw their sympathy because anger mottled his face. “You knew!”

  Sam offered Vince a solemn nod. “At first, Karen was discreet. We only suspected something might be going on. But in the last few weeks, she’s gone public. Word on the street is that she and her new beau are heading south.”

  Vince straddled a barstool. “Yeah … with my money! Why didn’t someone tell me?”

  Sam’s shoulders lifted and dropped. “Would you really have wanted us to radio the boat when there was nothing you could do? We tried talking to her, but honestly, I don’t know what happened. Karen has become —”

  “A royal bitch,” Vince finished.

  The family gathered closer, encircling Vince. Everyone had known. Everyone but
Vince, since he’d been offshore all season.

  “I could handle her leaving. But my boat …” Vince sighed as Daire sat down beside him. “Apparently she hasn’t been making the payments. When I got home, I found a letter stating that as soon as I docked, the bank would repossess it. ’Course, that was the only thing she left: past-due letters. She took everything, didn’t leave as much as a roll of toilet paper. Hell, she even took my underwear. What on God’s great earth is she gonna do with my tighty-whities?” He mimed holding them up. “‘Here, babe, I even took his briefs. They’re only slightly used.’ That’s nasty.”

  Sam covered his mouth. It wasn’t funny, but it was hard to hold back a laugh when Vince told stories. Even sad ones.

  Vince tried to maintain his somber expression, but burst out laughing. “Go ahead and laugh, my brothers. I deserve it. Every single one of you warned me.”

  Daire slid his draft in front of Vince. “Here, you need this more than I do.”

  “Damn straight!” Vince tipped back the mug, draining it. “’Nuff about my sorry ass. Let’s get this party started.” He ruffled Daire’s thick dark hair, the same color and defiant curls as Sam’s, except Sam kept his hair cropped short. “When you gonna cut this mop, kid?”

  Daire laughed off Vince’s comment, causing another kick to Sam’s gut. How come everyone else could call Daire kid and baby brother, and Daire didn’t get upset? Maybe Sam did treat Daire like a kid. Maybe he did need to let him grow up without always worrying that he’d die … like Sam’s father had.

  With that thought, Sam stared at Alex. He hated that he blamed Alex for their father’s death. It had happened, and that was that. He couldn’t change the past. No one could cheat death forever, especially when you navigated churning white water, razor-edge cliffs, and wildlife nearly every day. If only he knew the truth, he could probably move on, but it always felt as though Alex was hiding something.

  Alex lifted his eyebrows when he caught Sam staring, but then nodded toward Vince. Sam cocked his head, immediately reminded how his search dogs would do the same thing when he gave them an order they didn’t understand.

  Alex deliberately mouthed the words a job.

  Oh … yeah, Sam mouthed back. The business wasn’t doing well. He wasn’t sure he could add another salary. But the company rescue boat was just sitting in dry dock, which wasn’t cheap. With an expert captain manning the boat again, they could pick up more search-and-rescue jobs, which would bring in more donations. Especially this time of the year, when novice fishermen flocked to Alaska. Too often, storms would pop up out of nowhere, and boats would capsize, leaving unsuspecting vacationers holding on for dear life. “You know, Vince,” Sam started, “we haven’t replaced a boat captain since Chris left, but with summer coming up fast —”

  “I’d love to captain it,” Vince said before Sam could finish his sentence. “I’ll take it. Thanks!” Vince flagged down Gina, and the waitress smiled at the only fair-haired brother in the family. Even though Vince came off as raucous and was built like his Russian father, with massive hands that would make a polar bear envious, he had a bigger heart. “Let’s get this young man good and drunk, so he’ll never want to drink again. Drinking’ll kill ya, Daire! Better to stick to women and song — ah … scratch that. Women’ll kill you, too. Or at least they’ll take your last penny and clean pair of undershorts and run.”

  Erik tapped the back of Vince’s head. “Cut your whining. You’ll have another woman faster than the ink dries on your divorce papers. Just like high school. One woman the entire four years. Face it, Vince, you don’t like being alone. Not like ol’ Sam here.” Erik raised his chin as if challenging Sam to refute his statement.

  “What?” Sam scowled. “Why’re you dragging me into this conversation?”

  “I’m just sayin’. Unlike Vince, you haven’t had a real relationship in … what … twenty years?”

  Twenty-one years obviously, Sam thought, but who’s counting? “I date.”

  “Since when?” Daire cut in. “When’s the last time you’ve gone out?” Sam started to answer, but Daire interrupted his reply. “You can’t lie, bro. We live in the same house, remember?”

  “There was … uh … you know. That, ummm … firefighter …” He snapped his fingers. “Evie!”

  “Oh, yeah. The woman you went out with twice and then said it was too difficult to work a relationship around your schedule.”

  Sam blew out a breath. “I’m going to start dating again. I was waiting —” The entire family gawked at him. “It’s not like there are a lot of choices in Falcon Run. I know practically everyone, and the women I don’t know are usually only here long enough to visit Denali. That’s not really conducive to establishing a relationship.”

  Daire raised the new mug to his lips but paused. “No one said you had to sign a marriage license. I just think you might not be so grouchy if you got laid once in a —”

  “Daire Belgarde!” his mother screeched.

  “Sorry, Mom.” Not looking contrite in the least, Daire peered over Sam’s shoulder, then pointed to something — rather, someone, Sam assumed — behind him.

  All his brothers — and their mother too — surveyed the area behind Sam, their eyebrows rising in unison. A few mouths even fell open.

  “I don’t know what you’ve been waiting for, Sam,” Alex crooned. “But I challenge you to start now.”

  “You better move fast,” Erik chuckled. “Vince is already trying to push by me.”

  “Am not!” Vince snorted. “For her, I’ll crawl under the table.”

  Perfunctorily, Sam turned to see what all the fuss was about. After seeing no one of interest nearby, he checked out the three ancient videogames at the opposite end of the bar. Okay, maybe not ancient, but twenty years old if they were a day.

  Fate, you old fool … What are you thinking? Chills ran down his arms. He didn’t have to see her eyes; he’d recognize those curves from a mile away. The woman from the backpacking class was playing the boxing game, the one where the player punches until the virtual opponent drops. She was his kind of sexy. Not too short, not too tall, curvy in all the right places, and obviously athletic based on her mad air-boxing skills.

  He didn’t need his brothers to challenge him; he’d been thinking all day about what he’d say if he saw her again. His legs were already transporting him across the worn wood floor. Once within a few yards of the woman, he paused and watched as she knocked out one simulated challenger after another. Note to self: don’t come on too strong. The chick’s got a wicked right hook.

  He glanced back at his family, irritated at their concern for his love life … and the way they were hanging on his every move. Just out of spite he thought about heading back. But hell, isn’t that called cutting off your nose to spite your face? Or cutting off another part, he thought with a snort. Besides, a new woman in the local dive bar was unusual. Attractive and new was nearly unheard of. Was it possible that since she was here, and not on the touristy side of the river, that she was a new resident? Didn’t matter. He wasn’t stupid enough to pass up a second opportunity to meet her. Sure, they’d kind of met earlier, but maybe he shouldn’t be thinking that way. Maybe he should act as if she hadn’t showed him up in front of twenty men.

  All of the lines he’d rehearsed sounded stupid now that he was within feet of her. It’d been too long since he’d approached a woman. He wasn’t sure how to start. Play it cool? Clumsy? Funny? Common interest?

  The woman dropped the handles and stepped back, smiling at her high score.

  He didn’t have time to come up with a game plan. If he waited for her to notice him, some horny local might swoop in. Abe, the resident meth-head, was already eyeing her as if she were a big juicy steak.

  Ignoring his palpitating heart and sweaty palms, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “You up for taking on a real opponent?”

  The woman turned, and she was even more striking than he’d remembered, especially now that she
’d discarded the sunglasses and hoodie. Dark brows and lashes, matching her espresso-colored hair, framed those brilliant green eyes.

  “You want to fight me for real?” Her narrowed eyes sized him up from his cap to his boots.

  Sam blinked. Had she just checked him out? Or … wait. She thought he was seriously challenging her to a physical fight? Apparently so, from her rigid stance and very fit bod that seemed ready for an altercation.

  He held up his hands, the ancient sign that he held no weapons, and added a chuckle for good measure. “Oh, God no. You misunderstood. I may be the eldest of my brothers, but if I ever lifted a hand to a woman, they’d kick my ass from here to the North Pole. Not that that’s far from here, but it’s a cold and bitter place. I was thinking of something a little tamer.” He indicated the pool table behind her. “Are you as good at shooting pool as you are at air-boxing and tying knots?”

  The woman raised one of her perfectly sculpted dark brows. “Not sure. I’ve never played.”

  “Wanna learn?”

  “Depends.” She cocked her head. “Are you better at shooting pool than keeping people’s interest?” Obviously toying with him, the woman’s lips turned up slightly. But then she peered around him, scanning the bar.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’d teach me, then? Without that I-know-everything swagger?” she added playfully.

  “Sure.” He’d love to teach her a few moves. Based on her one-handed knot tying and boxing skills, though, she might be able to teach him a few.

  The cheeky expression disappeared as she peered past him again, her gaze darting around the bar.

  He instinctively peeked over his shoulder to see what she was looking at. No one stood out. Mostly just his family gawking in his direction — and Abe’s sorry ass, as if he stood a chance with this physically fit woman. All parties quickly stopped their rubbernecking and started talking amongst themselves as though they hadn’t been spying.

  Great. Not only would his family be shamelessly watching him, so would every single man in the establishment who had wanted to approach the green-eyed beauty.