2

      “CAN I HELP YOU with something, Sugar Plum?”

      Mack struggled hard not to laugh. His restraint was evident in the tightening of his thigh muscles, the wheezy quality of his voice rumbling from his chest. Chagrined, Cammie Jo’s head bobbed up as quickly as it had gone down.

      She gulped. You could have fried an egg on her cheeks, they were that hot.

      She wanted to explain, but just ended up mumbling incoherently, “I…bub…er…mum…ah…I…”

      Desperately, she swiveled around in her seat, snapped her seat belt back in place and forced her gaze on the toe of her boot.

      “Bear Creek usually makes a strong impression on people as we fly down in through the mountain pass. Some folks sigh. Others giggle with delight. I’ll have to admit no one’s had quite the same reaction as you.”

      She was horrified at what she’d done. She could never face this man again. She would wait out the rest of her vacation in the B&B, then find herself another bush pilot to fly her back to Anchorage. She buried her face in her hands.

      “We do go in at a steep angle,” he said, all traces of humor disappearing from his tone. “I should have warned you. I can see where your first up-close-and-personal view of the mountain might be scary.”

      Oh great! Now he was feeling sorry for her. She didn’t know which was worse—being seen as a joke or a tragic figure.

      “We’re landing on the water.” He leaned over to point out her window, bringing with him the scent of his soap and the foreign—at least to her unsophisticated nose—aroma of delectable man. “Just to forewarn you.”

      Well, duh. She could have figured that out from the pontoons attached to the landing gear. Where was Mr. Reassuring Tour Guide when the plane was aiming straight for the mountain. Hmmm?

      Cammie Jo spread her fingers and peeked out at the little town circling the bay. A couple of docked cruise ships and a plethora of other floatplanes were parked next to planked piers. She spotted salmon boats and kayaks paddling up smaller tributaries, while sailboats sluiced gracefully through the cove.

      She forgot to be scared as Mack circled the inlet and curiosity vanquished her shame. She dropped her hands for a better look and studied the neat row of rustic houses and storefronts bordering the main avenue.

      Bear Creek was gorgeous.

      A rush of emotion swept over her. An odd sense of belonging. Even though she hadn’t been born here, even though she’d yet to set foot in this place, the bedtime stories her mother had told her about the magnificent state of Alaska bubbled up in her consciousness.

      She felt as if she’d come home.

      I’m having my first adventure, she thought, amazed. My first real honest to gosh adventure.

      Now, if only she could work up the courage to try kayaking herself or salmon fishing, or maybe even join a group of hikers headed into the mountains.

      She wanted so much and frankly, the intensity of these new desires alarmed her.

      Mack set the floatplane down in the bay. A teenage boy waited on the dock to tie it up when they coasted to a stop. The teen helped her out of the plane, then took her bags from the cargo hold.

      “This way, miss,” he said.

      Cammie Jo looked at Mack. “Aren’t you coming?”

      His eyes when they met hers were gentle. “I’ve got more passengers to pick up in Anchorage. Jimmy Jones will drive you to the B&B.”

      “Oh, well then. I guess this is goodbye.”

      Should she offer to shake his hand? Should she tip him? Cammie Jo juggled her carry-on bags and her purse, but by the time she got her hand free, Mack had already turned back to the plane.

      Her heart told her stomach to scoot over because it was coming right on down. Her earlier euphoria at seeing Bear Creek dissipated.

      He had already dismissed her. Out of sight, out of mind.

      “Miss?”

      Cammie Jo gave her attention to the smiling young man carrying her heavier luggage up the pier toward a vintage yellow touring car with Taxi printed on the door in bold black lettering. Already a few other passengers were seated inside.

      “This way,” the teen prodded.

      Okay, well, fine. She didn’t need Mack McCaulley to guide her through town. She would survive just dandy on her own. That’s what grand adventures were all about.

      Right?

      She struggled up the walkway. Her bags were too darned bulky and she tripped over a raised plank. Falling down didn’t hurt much—she was wearing lots of padding—but the giggles from inside the taxi skinned her pride.

      And when she glanced back over her shoulder she saw that not only had Mack witnessed her third humiliation of the day but he was shaking his head to himself. Tears sprang to her eyes. Blinking them away, she pushed her glasses up on her nose.

      I’m tough. I’m tough. I’m tough, she mentally chanted but she knew she was seriously deluding herself.

      Jimmy, seeing for the first time she had taken a spill, rushed over to help her, but it was too late. What little courage she’d managed to drum up evaporated. Then, when she found herself settled into the taxi with four women so beautiful they could have stepped from the pages of Metropolitan magazine, Cammie Jo’s spirits joined her heart and her stomach in the bottom of her boots.

      The women didn’t bother to introduce themselves. Since she certainly wasn’t comfortable initiating conversation with sleek-haired cover model types, she just leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes and pretended to nap on the quarter-mile journey to Jake Gerard’s bed-and-breakfast establishment positioned smack in the middle of town.

      The lobby of the B&B was packed with additional attractive women and tons of ruggedly handsome men chatting them up. No one noticed her. She felt like a holey old gym sock stuffed in a drawer full of sexy lingerie. Now Cammie Jo remembered why she rarely ventured away from the world of academia.

      Cammie Jo inched over to the front desk. She recognized the guy behind the counter as another one of the bachelors. He smiled at her.

      “Hi, I’m Jake.”

      Too shy to speak directly to such a handsome man, she rummaged through her purse for the reservation confirmation slip the magazine had mailed to her.

      At