Alaskan Sweethearts by Janet Tronstad Read Free Book Online

trying to shake off her mood. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Regardless of what her grandmother felt and how much money Colin had or didn’t have, the payment due her family was legitimate. The Jacobsons owed them. And she intended to collect.
    Her vision was still a touch blurry and she licked her lips for the moisture. She put her hand up to her forehead. She’d had too much heat as well as too little food. No one had told her that the only car left on the lot in Billings was the last to be rented because the air conditioner didn’t work. Of course, it would not have made any difference if she had known. She would have taken it; she’d had to get here and she would have traveled in an ox cart to do it if necessary.
    They were quiet for another moment and Scarlett told herself she was okay. She felt better out in the open air instead of inside the café.
    “My grandfather is a cheat,” Hunter finally confessed as he stood there looking down the street with her again. “I don’t like it, but there you have it.”
    He turned sideways to look at her, faint embarrassment on his face. He was obviously reluctant to admit what he had told her.
    “And you?”
    “People treat us like we all are crooks. The whole family,” he added. “But my brothers and I aren’t.”
    She tried to answer, but she couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t work.
    “I thought you should know,” he added, and she saw his eyes suddenly narrow.
    Scarlett swayed then and the porch started to spin. She tried to blink the fuzziness away, but it didn’t leave. She reached out to steady herself but there was nothing there again except the man’s arm. She clutched him.
    “You’re sure you’re okay?” Hunter asked as he moved in to catch her.
    It took her some time to catch her breath.
    “Of course I am,” she finally managed to say. She still held his arm, but she told herself it wasn’t necessary. “I’m a Murphy.”
    She had gladly taken back her maiden name after her divorce.
    Hunter’s cotton shirtsleeve hid hard cords of muscle in his forearm and he kept her upright with no visible effort. She felt the muscles flex as he moved to better support her.
    “How hot was it in that car of yours?”
    She kept herself upright long enough to glare at him.
    “I’m fine.”
    He grunted in disbelief, turning her slightly and guiding her toward a weathered wooden stool that sat on the edge of the porch. She hadn’t noticed the paint-spattered thing until now, it blended so well with everything around it. For a moment she saw the legendary Jacobson charm her grandmother had spoken about. Hunter had a fine growth of black whiskers on his chiseled face. His scars were lighter when not in the direct sun. His eyes held a knowing sympathy. His lips were smiling. His manner beckoned her toward him.
    She sat and he went to his pickup, coming back with a bottle of water and a nut bar of some kind. “Here. Drink and eat.”
    She did so and she felt better.
    “You need water in this kind of heat,” he said.
    She nodded.
    “Soda doesn’t work,” he added.
    A few minutes later she stood. She wasn’t going to lose out on the chance to claim this land for her family just because she had a little problem with dizziness. Hunter kept looking at her anxiously, though, and he had his hand out to catch her if she should fall.
    “Careful now,” he said.
    “I’m fine. Strong, too. I’ll be able to work that farm your grandfather has for us.”
    “I’ll admit I think you could do it,” he said, facing her and then taking a breath. “But you won’t have the chance. My grandfather can’t be trusted with a contract. Something is wrong with it even if we don’t know what it is yet.”
    He kept his voice so low she had to lean closer to hear. She half thought he’d said that about her being able to do it just to sweeten her up for the rest. His dark eyes looked serious in the shadow of his hat brim.
    He could be lying, though.
    “If your