From Out Of The Blue. Nadia Nichols

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From Out Of The Blue - Nadia  Nichols


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mushrooms, potatoes, tomatoes, whatever trips your trigger. Coat ’em with olive oil and a pinch of herbs and grill ’em.”

      Well, scratch the eggplant and mushrooms, he hated the things, but he bought a few nice fat tomatoes and brightly colored bell peppers to supplement the vegetables he knew he already had, and he could make a salad, too, and then…?

      Then they’d eat. And whatever happened after that was up to the gods and the mountain, because the mountain played a big role in his life here. He might have to fly out at the drop of a hat to pick up climbers who were calling it quits or were sick or injured. Those calls happened frequently this time of year and they certainly could use the business. But barring the climbers, who knows where the night might end? Maybe she wouldn’t want to go back to the Moosewood. Maybe she’d opt to stay.

      Maybe? Of course she would. That’s why she was here, wasn’t it? She’d spend two weeks’ worth of fabulous nights with him before flying away again, back to her Navy career. What could be better than a short-term relationship with a gorgeous, sexy woman, no strings attached?

      As he parked the truck, Thor jumped out of the back and Mitch heard her greeting the useless beast. He grabbed the bags of groceries and climbed the porch steps after the dog. Kate was sitting in the late afternoon sunshine, book of poetry lying open in her lap, and she smiled when she saw him. Right then and there he forgot all about how great a two-week-long, no-strings-attached affair would be because she looked like she belonged, and she looked beautiful.

      “Hey,” he said, caught off balance by his own reaction.

      “Hey, yourself. How’d it go at the airfield?”

      “Great. Got the plane fixed. What about you?”

      “I didn’t do a thing. I sat on this porch and read poetry and then I had a nap.”

      “That’s what a vacation’s all about. You hungry?”

      “Getting there.” She folded the book shut and stood. “What can I do to help?”

      “You can supervise.”

      She followed him into the kitchen and leaned over the counter while he unpacked the bags of groceries. “It’s so peaceful here. I can see why you love it.”

      He uncorked the bottle of wine, rummaged in the cupboard for the two wineglasses left behind by the lonesome musher and poured. “Hope you like red. It goes well with meat, or so I’m told. I’m mostly a beer drinker myself, and beer goes with everything.” He handed her the glass and she smiled at him again. His heart did something that made him lose his breath and remember the night they’d had together, the night he’d spent years trying to forget.

      “Thanks.” She took a sip and then watched while he organized the meal, or tried to. It was hard to do anything while she stood there. “Your friend Campy stopped by in your truck to deliver the dog, but Thor chased her down the road when she left. I don’t think she realized he was following her.”

      “No, she didn’t.” He unwrapped the thick tenderloin, laid it on a platter and poured the marinade Yudy had recommended over it. “Thor jumped aboard, probably in that rough section a quarter mile from here, and rode to the airstrip in the back of the truck. But it was quiet there today, not much traffic. He didn’t get in any trouble or cause any crashes.”

      “Has he caused crashes before?”

      “Yup. Two.” Mitch piled all the vegetables into a colander and pumped water over them in the sink. That old-fashioned hand pump sure beat carrying water from the creek.

      “What happened?”

      “Both pilots tried to avoid him and went off the airstrip. One hit a bunch of willows, not much damage, just a few scratches, but the other bent a prop and we had to replace it. Wally swore he’d shoot the dog if he ever showed up at the airstrip again, but that was before Campy had the run-in with that brown bear and Thor saved her ass. Big vet bill, he was all torn up, but Campy told Wally that dog belonged here and if he shot the dog, she’d shoot him.”

      “This sounds like a happening place,” Kate remarked with a smile.

      “You betcha. Never a dull moment out here in the bush.” He took a knife out of the block, laid the cutting board on the counter and began slicing up the vegetables. “You like yellow and green bell peppers, scallions, potatoes, tomatoes and carrots?”

      “I love any and all vegetables. Shouldn’t you start the grill?”

      “Oh, yeah, forgot about that part. Here, you slice while I get that thing fired up.”

      “Mitch?” He glanced over his shoulder and the way she was looking at him made his heart do that weird somersault thing again and he could hardly catch his breath. Damn, was he having some kind of coronary? “Thanks for asking me to supper,” she said. “And I really am sorry I never read your letter.”

      KATE WAS SORRY in so very many ways that her feelings of remorse nearly overwhelmed her. As she watched Mitch through the cabin door while he got the grill started, then watched him laying cheese and crackers onto a chipped china plate with little roses along its border, she knew that she’d made a terrible mistake in not reading that letter he’d sent. She’d made a terrible mistake in not telling him about Hayden the moment she’d found out herself. How was she going to right these wrongs without making them worse? What would be his reaction when he found out that he’d had a son for the past four years? How could she possibly bring the subject up in a calm and logical way?

      Right after Campy had left that afternoon, she’d called the Moosewood on Mitch’s satellite phone. “I’m out at Mitch’s place and he’s fixing a plane so I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” she told Rosa. “How’s Hayden?”

      “Oh, he’s fine, señora. The owner of this nice place took us snipe hunting today.”

      “Snipe hunting? What’s a snipe?”

      “Some kind of bird they shoot and eat here, but it was a joke, I think. The man, he had us carry empty coffee cans and bang on them with spoons. He said the birds would fly into the cans. Of course, they didn’t, but Hayden loved it.”

      “Did you have lunch?”

      “Sì, a very good lunch and Hayden is napping. He has been outside all morning. This is good for him. How about you, señora? How does it go for you?”

      “So far, so good. If I don’t get back until late, don’t worry. I haven’t told him about Hayden yet, but I’m going to. I just have to pick the right time.”

      “I understand, señora. Good luck.”

      It seemed that Rosa was saying that more and more often. Was it luck Kate needed, or nerve? She had only a few days to tell Mitch he had a son and the sooner she broached the subject, the better. What if he flipped out at the idea? What if he met Hayden and didn’t like him? But how could anyone not like Hayden? Besides, when Mitch saw him for the first time, he was sure to recognize himself in that little boy’s grin, the mischievous flash of his eyes, the arrogant know-it-all attitude that yes, even a three-year-old can possess. He was sure to take one look at Hayden and know without her saying anything that he was looking at his own son.

      She glanced up from slicing the vegetables as Mitch came back into the kitchen from checking on the grill. “This is such a great place for kids. I’m surprised you aren’t married by now, with a whole bunch of them stampeding around.”

      He lifted his wineglass for a taste. “This cabin isn’t big enough for a whole bunch. Besides, a wife and kids have never been a high priority for me. I tried that once and it didn’t work. Marriage, that is. Fortunately, there were no kids.”

      “You don’t like kids?” Kate asked with a twinge of unease.

      “I think they deserve better than two parents trapped in a bad marriage. Besides, if anyone else moved in here on a permanent basis, I’d have to build an addition.” He regarded her steadily for a moment,


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