Under Alaskan Skies by Grace Carol Read Free Book Online

fall, but the radiant heat was welcome on a night like this. Even more welcome when the temperatures dropped below freezing in the winter. She sat on the stone hearth to let the heat dry her hair and thought about the man upstairs. What would her father say if he knew she’d invited a stranger to spend the night? The man who right now was standing under the shower with the water pouring down on his broad shoulders, who was soaping his chest while the lather cascaded down his legs….
    Carrie took a deep breath and tried to think of something else. She couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been alone too long. Too long since there’d been a man in her life.
    “’Bout time,” she imagined her father saying. “Alaska is no place for a woman alone.” She’d accuse him of being a chauvinist and he’d admit it. He wanted her to get married, but not to the man she’d brought home to meet him. As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to worry.
    The man she’d brought home today wasn’t any more suitable than the first one. Surely her father would have seen that. It was obvious. She ought to find herself a fisherman, a logger or a hunter. Someone at home in the bush. Someone content to stay there. Because she had no intention of ever leaving God’s country. She told herself to relax. No one was asking her to leave. Least of all a doctor who’d come to help out in an emergency. Maybe he found her interesting. Maybe he really thought she was beautiful. It wouldn’t last. Although she was probably differentfrom the women he knew, she was probably a little too different.
    When he came down the stairs he was wearing her father’s plaid flannel shirt and a pair of outdoor fishing pants with cargo pockets that were baggy but almost fitted him. Her father had been a large man. For a moment it seemed her father had come back. As if she weren’t alone anymore. A tear sprang to her eye.
    “Carrie? What is it?”
    “It’s the clothes. I’m sorry. I’m fine, really.”
    “I’ll go back and change,” he said turning toward the stairs.
    She stood and crossed the room, put her hand on his arm. “No, don’t. He’d want you to wear them. He’d want someone to get some use out of them. That’s why I gave most of them away. He hated waste.”
    Matt brushed the tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Are you sure?” he asked.
    She nodded. His touch was so tender, so unexpected, it set off a new round of tears. Instead of stopping, she cried harder. She’d received sympathy when her father died, but not this kind of comfort.
    “What’s wrong?” Matt asked, alarmed, both hands on her shoulders, holding her tight.
    “I … I don’t know. I didn’t cry that much when he died. He didn’t want me to. He was tough and he wanted me to be, too. I tried to be, but look at me now. I’m having a delayed reaction.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I’m a mess.”
    “Go ahead and cry,” he said. “Nobody can be tough all the time. Everybody has to let go after atragedy. It’s only normal. Sometimes it happens sooner, sometimes later.”
    “You’re not a psychiatrist, are you?” she said between sniffles.
    “No, I’m destined for plastic surgery. But I did a rotation in psychiatry once. It was fascinating and I learned a lot.”
    Carrie wondered if it was there he learned how to comfort teary females or did it just come naturally. However it had happened he was an expert. He exuded strength, sympathy and understanding. And so much more.
    “You’ve had a stressful day, flying around looking for a doctor,” he said. “You flew us through rough weather and you had a scare about the boy.”
    He put his arms around her and held her tight. It felt so good to be held, to have someone care about her. To admit to herself she was not as strong as she pretended. She had no idea why a stranger should be able to see into her mind the way no one else could. Maybe it was because she’d let down her guard for once. Maybe