“Thanks.” She set her plate in front of another barstool, but instead of coming around, she stopped to watch him, a little smirk on her face. “You really were starved, weren’t you? Would you like another sandwich?”
Sam set what was left of his sandwich on his plate and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth. You’d think after all these years he would have learned not to gobble. He no longer had to worry that he wouldn’t get enough food, that the other kids at the shelter would take his if he didn’t eat fast. Ursula’s efforts to civilize him had been met with mixed results.
He tried for a carefree smile. “One is plenty.” He tasted the chowder and laid down his spoon. “This is excellent. You’re a good cook.”
“Thanks.” She smiled back and came to sit beside him. “So, you said you’d been traveling. Did you have a nice vacation?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t vacation. I’m working a twenty-eight-day rotation in Siberia.”
“Siberia?” She stared at him as if he’d said Mars.
“Yeah. We’re doing some infill drilling.”
“What does a rotation mean?”
“I work for four weeks straight, and then my alternate takes over and I have the next four weeks off. Unfortunately, it takes about three days to get from there to here, which eats into my time off.”
“I guess it would.” She took a bite of her sandwich and continued to watch him as if she were observing an exotic animal in the zoo. He took the opportunity to wolf down a few spoonfuls of the rich chowder.
She took a sip of coffee. “How long have you known Chris?”
He swallowed. “Let’s see. I was in my senior year at the University of Alaska Fairbanks when we met, so seventeen years. I had a part-time job at a pizza restaurant, and he started working there as a cook. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“And he never mentioned he had a sister?”
“No.” He watched her face, looking for signs of distress, but she seemed more puzzled than anything. “Chris doesn’t talk about his family.”
“Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“Not especially. Sometimes people come to Alaska to get away from something or someone. If people don’t volunteer information, you learn not to ask.”
“Oh.” She bit into her sandwich.
“So, I gather this is your first time in Alaska?”
“Yes. It’s beautiful. I love the mountains.”
“What brings you here after all this time?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “My father died. He and Chris had some sort of falling out. I don’t know what it was all about, but Chris left when I was sixteen. I needed to find him and let him know Dad left him something in his will.”
“Good for Chris. Did you get a chance to tell him before he left?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “But he didn’t seem too happy about it.”
Sam swallowed a spoonful of soup. “I can understand that.”
“Really? Because I don’t.” Dana leaned a little closer. “Obviously, Dad left him the money to try to make it up to him. Why won’t Chris accept it?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t want to make up. Maybe it’s too little, too late. You don’t know what was said.”
“I know my father was a good man. How bad could it have been?”
Sam considered while he chewed another bite of sandwich. “Bad enough to make your brother leave home and never go back. If Chris takes the money, it gives your father all the power. Maybe Chris doesn’t want to be beholden to the man who kicked him out.”
“How do you know he kicked him out?”
“I don’t. But I know Chris. He’s not the type to hold a grudge over something minor. Besides, if he doesn’t want the money, why should it matter to you?”
“Because, well, it’s my responsibility.” Her cheeks were growing pinker. “Chris is my brother. My dad left it to me to set things right.”
That seemed like a pretty big burden for one person. Sam’s jaw clenched, but he reminded himself Dana’s family dynamics were none of his business. Still, his sympathies were with Chris. “Why you? If he really wanted to patch up things with Chris, he could have come himself, not sent you after he died. It seems to me he took the coward’s way out.”
She narrowed her eyes and sat up straighter. “You didn’t even know him.”
“You’re right.” Sam held up his hand. “I’m sorry. I mean no disrespect. I’m sure your father was a fine man.”
She raised her chin. “He was.”
“I believe you. He raised my best friend, so he can’t be all bad.”
The corners of her bow-shaped mouth quirked upward. “Your best friend, huh?”
“Absolutely. Chris is the closest thing I have to a brother.”
She gave a little laugh. “So, if my brother is like your brother, does that make me your sister?”
The idea of Dana as a sister didn’t appeal to Sam. Maybe it was because of the way her eyes softened when she talked about Alaska. Or because of that cute mouth of hers that seemed to naturally curve into the shape of a kiss. Not that he had any intention of following through on any impulse to kiss Chris’s sister. That would be a bad idea for so many reasons. Although he couldn’t think of any at that precise moment.
Instead of answering, he rose and carried his dishes to the sink. “That was a wonderful meal, Dana. Since you cooked, I’ll clean up.” He glanced out the living room window at the mountains. “Then what do you say we get outside? It’s an exceptionally beautiful day. Would you like to go kayaking?”
“Kayaking?”
“You can use Chris’s boat. He won’t mind.”
“I’ve never been kayaking.” Her voice sounded doubtful, but her eyes sparkled.
“They’re small lake kayaks. It’s easy. Go change into some pants or shorts while I take care of the dishes and then we’ll go.”
She caught the edge of her lip between her teeth. “You don’t have to entertain me. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Sam shrugged. “I’m going kayaking. You can come or not. It doesn’t matter to me.” But to his surprise, it did. He needed to get outside, to loosen up the kinks, but he didn’t want to just leave her alone. Besides, he wanted to show her his favorite lake, a jewel of nature tucked away in a city neighborhood.
Her face cleared. “Okay, if you’re sure. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Go get ready.” Sam smiled to himself as he loaded the bowls into the dishwasher. The sun was shining and he was going kayaking. It was good to be home.
* * *
SAM HAD PULLED his truck from the garage and loaded two plastic boats onto the roof rack by the time Dana got changed. She climbed into the truck, and he backed out of the driveway. When they reached the speed bump, Sam slowed but still had to grab his coffee cup before it spilled. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “Reynolds.”
“Who’s Reynolds?”
Sam grimaced. “Martin