Dodging Cupid's Arrow

Chapter Two

Joe Brennan stood silently in the waiting area and watched as a line of travelers straggled through the jet-way and into the airport. He glanced again at the board, just to make sure he was in the right place, then held the sign up a little higher. He'd written the name Mr. Perry Kincaid on the back of a battered fuel bill that he had yet to pay, but so far, no one had claimed the name.

Maybe the guy had missed his plane. Or maybe Milt Freeman had decided that whatever trouble his reporter was in, it could be best handled in Seattle. All Joe knew was that he owed Milt a few favors and Milt had finally called one in. Though he couldn't show Perry Kincaid much fun in the dead of an Alaskan winter, Hawk might be able to take him ice fishing.

He scanned the waiting area again and his gaze stopped on a young woman who was in the midst of a heated argument with the desk attendant. She wore a short leather jacket and jeans that hugged her backside perfectly. Her auburn hair had been piled haphazardly on top of her head, twisted into an off-center knot that seemed in jeopardy of slipping over her left ear. A bright yellow pencil jutted out of the knot and he watched as she shoved a pen in next to it.

Joe had learned to appreciate a good-looking woman when he could-whether half-frozen on Denali or in the midst of an argument in the airport. Muleshoe-and most of Alaska's bush country-was populated mainly by men, men who fished and hunted and searched for gold, or men who provided goods and services to those trying to eke out a living in the Alaskan bush. Muleshoe was not the kind of town that women found attractive-unless, of course, they were looking to get married.

Just last week, he'd flown in three women who had answered an ad in the Seattle Star. A group of single men in Muleshoe had decided that they'd never get wives unless the women knew they were looking, so they pooled their money and bought the ad. Erv Saunders asked Joe if he wanted in. For forty dollars, Joe could buy a chance to read through the letters, study the photos and pick himself a potential bride.

But Joe had taken a pass. A woman-especially a desperate woman bent on marriage-would only complicate his life. Besides, in order to get married, a guy would have to fall in love, and Joe Brennan had never been in love in his life. For now, he was more than satisfied with an occasional affair, no strings attached.

He studied the woman at the desk, pushing his sunglasses down and the brim of his baseball cap up to get a better look. His mind slowly formed an image of her face. But then, before the picture had completely materialized, she spun around suddenly. The image evaporated, replaced by one more lovely than he'd even anticipated. He fought back a purely instinctive jolt of desire, an unbidden and electric attraction, then shoved his sunglasses back up on his nose. He forced his gaze to fix somewhere over her right shoulder.

Lord, she was pretty, he thought as he risked another glance. Her auburn hair framed delicate features-wide eyes, a perfect nose, a lush mouth. He found his eyes drawn back to stare, against his will, and to his surprise, he found her staring back.

She narrowed her eyes and a defiant expression settled on her features. Squaring her shoulders, she started across the distance that separated them. Joe glanced to either side to make sure he hadn't misunderstood the object of her attention. No, she was definitely headed in his direction.

She stopped in front of him, gave him the once-over, then sighed. "All right, here I am," she snapped. "Now what are you supposed to do with me?"

Joe blinked, then slowly lowered the sign he held. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're Brennan, right?" She shifted the bag on her shoulder, then thrust out her hand. He hesitantly took it, holding her slender fingers against his palm. Another jolt of electricity, this time skittering up his arm. "I'm Perrie Kincaid."

He frowned, then shook his head. "You're Perry Kincaid? You're a woman."

She arched an eyebrow and regarded him coolly. "You've definitely been living in Siberia too long."

"I was expecting a man. Perry is a man's name, like Perry Como. And Milt lead me to believe-"

"It's i-e, not y," she countered. "And you're not exactly what I expected, either."

His mouth quirked in amusement. Gee, she was a snotty little thing, all full of spit and vinegar. "And what did you expect?"

"Well, being an open-minded feminist, I should have expected Josephine Brennan. But to tell the truth, I expected some potbellied guy with fishing lures stuck in his hat and a cigar butt clenched in his teeth."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Kincaid."

"It's Perrie. Or Kincaid. You can drop the Miss. Makes me sound like a damn debutante." Perrie shook her head and began to pace in front of him. "You know, I should have suspected he'd try something like this. First he confiscates my cell phone. Then he steals my wallet. I don't have a credit card to my name, all my cash is gone. I should have known there was something fishy when he offered to watch my stuff while I went to get a cup of coffee. Then he wouldn't leave the damn airport until my plane left the ground. I tried to get off twice and he was standing there blocking the door of the jetway. Then he tricks you into flying me into some frozen tundra town… Donkeyfoot or Mulefoot or whatever it's called." She smiled and patted the side of her shoulder bag. "But I got him back because I took all my files with me. He's got the key to my desk, but I took the evidence. He's got nothing to give the cops." She stopped, met his gaze and drew a deep breath. "So, what's it going to take, Brennan?"

She talked faster than anyone he'd ever met and it took him a moment to realize that she'd finished. "Take? I don't understand."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Everyone has a price. What's yours? I'll pay you to fly me back to Seattle. Whatever your regular price is, I'll double it. I can't pay you up front, but as soon as we get back I'll pay you in cash. I've got important business back there and I can't waste another minute in igloo country."

Milt had warned him that Perrie Kincaid would try to talk him into taking him back… or her. Damn, this was all he needed! Milt knew exactly how he'd react to the prospect of baby-sitting some hyperactive, run-at-the-mouth woman reporter, especially one with such an attitude. He would have refused, flatly and quickly. But now that she was here, he was stuck with her.

"Do you have luggage?" he asked.

She took his question for acquiescence and smiled in satisfaction. "It will only take a minute for me to pick it up. So, how long will it take to get back to Seattle?"

"Depends on the weather," he replied as he reached for her shoulder bag.

She pulled away from him. "I can carry my own bag, Brennan."

"Suit yourself… Kincaid."

"So… what? Four, five hours?"

"I said, it depends on the weather. There's weather coming in and we're going to have to move if we expect to beat it."

She automatically picked up her pace but he barely had to lengthen his stride to keep up. As they hurried down the concourse, he gave her a sideways glance. For all her beauty, Perrie Kincaid was the most prickly woman he'd ever met.

"I hope you brought something warmer to wear," he commented.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "It can get a little cold in my plane."

"Where is this plane of yours?"

"It's parked at a hangar on the other side of the airport. I've got a truck and we'll drive over as soon as we have your bag. Hopefully we'll get clearance to take off."

"Do we have to ask for clearance, Brennan? Why can't we just go?"

"If the tower advises me to stay on the ground, I stay on the ground. I don't know about you, Kincaid, but I happen to value my life-and my plane."

"Just because I managed to get myself shot does not mean I have a death wish, Brennan. Jeez, Milt is such a worrywart. What else did he tell you? Did he tell you that I was supposed to rest all day and take it easy? Three minutes in some backwoods cabin and I'll be crawling the walls."

Joe stared down at her as they walked, more baffled by this woman with every step. "Milt didn't tell me you'd been shot."

An impatient scowl marred her pretty features. "It was just a small flesh wound. It hardly hurts at all. But Milt seems to think if I stay in Seattle, something more serious is going to happen."

"Milt is probably right."

She stopped cold and groaned, throwing down her bag and planting her hands on her slender waist. "Don't you start on me now, Brennan. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need Milt or you or anyone else telling me how to live my life."

Cursing beneath his breath, Joe grabbed her arm with one hand and her bag with the other and dragged her along with him. "I was simply stating an opinion, Kincaid." She didn't seem like a "Miss" Kincaid to him anymore. And calling her Perrie felt entirely too personal.

"I'm not interested in your opinions," she muttered. "I just want to get home."

She picked up her pace, yanking her arm from his grasp. He took a moment to admire her backside again, the cute wiggle of her hips as she strode down the concourse. He grinned when she stopped and looked back at him impatiently.

"What's the problem?"

He caught up to her. "I don't know why you're so anxious to get home. Milt says you're in danger."

"My boss can be a bit melodramatic."

"Hey, I've got a lot of respect for Milt Freeman. He's a good guy. You should be happy someone like him is looking out for you."

She didn't have a comeback for that. Instead, she sent him an obstinate glare and refused to say another word until they'd recovered her bag and headed for the doors. When they stepped outside, a wickedly cold wind slapped them both in the face and snow swirled around their feet.

"Jeez," she hissed, her teeth chattering. "Is it always so blasted cold here?"

Joe glanced up at the late afternoon sky. The weather was moving in faster than he'd expected. If they didn't get off the ground quickly, he'd be spending the rest of the day and probably a major portion of his evening with Perrie Kincaid. His jaw tightened. To hell with the tower. He'd go whether they gave him the okay or not. "You're in Alaska, Kincaid. What did you expect, palm trees and ocean breezes?"

She gave him that look again, the one that told him she was about to start another harangue. "I expected-"

"The truck's in the lot," Joe said, interrupting her before she had another chance to start talking. He grabbed her arm again and pulled her along. Damn if he wasn't beginning to like Perrie Kincaid better when she had her mouth shut.

They made it to the hangar without further argument, Perrie choosing to sit silently beside him, her eyes fixed on the road. To Joe's relief, the plane was fueled and ready to go when he pulled up. He parked the truck, then ran around the front to open Perrie's door, but she'd already jumped out and was dragging her bag from the back on her own.

Satisfied that she could take care of herself, he tugged his hat down and ran over to Tanner O'Neill, who was standing by the hangar door. "What's the weather look like?" Joe asked. "Are they going to let us go?"

Tanner shouted against the frigid Arctic wind. "If you get off the ground in the next fifteen minutes, you should be all right. You'll be ahead of the storm all the way to Muleshoe. I put the mail sack in back and there's a crate of fresh mushrooms that Burdy ordered for the spaghetti feed at the fire hall Saturday night. There's a load of lumber in the cabin, I've tied it all down. Tell Hawk to unload it and put it in the shed for now."

Joe nodded. He hadn't seen Tanner in more than a week. He and Julia had been married in Muleshoe the weekend before last and had decided on a family honeymoon at Disney World with Julia's nine-year-old son, Sammy. They'd returned and decided to stay in Fairbanks and look for an apartment, where they'd live during the winter months while Sam was in school.

"How is Sam?" Joe asked.

."Sammy loved Florida but misses you and Hawk and the lodge. And Julia is in the middle of tying up all her business affairs in Chicago. By the way, we've made a decision."

"What's that?"

"We're not going to live in Fairbanks during the winter. We've decided to live at the lodge. Sammy will go to school in Muleshoe."

Joe grinned, happy that he'd have his partner at the lodge full-time, not to mention Sammy and his mom. He'd grown to love the kid and appreciate his mother. Julia made Tanner happier than a man had any right to be. Someday, when Joe was ready to settle down, he hoped to find a woman as sweet and loving as Julia Logan.

But for now, he was left with Perrie Kincaid-a first-rate pain in the backside. She joined them, standing beside Joe, her hair now free of its knot and whipping in her face. "Are we going to be able to get to Seattle?"

Tanner frowned, then opened his mouth, but Joe shot him a warning glare. "Tanner O'Neill, meet Perrie Kincaid," Joe said. "Go stow your luggage in the plane, Kincaid, and hop in. I'll be there in a second."

They both watched her hurry toward the Otter, then Tanner grabbed Joe's arm and pointed at her. "How the hell do you do it, Brennan? You were supposed to pick up some guy from the airport and you end up with a woman. And a beautiful woman to boot."

Joe grinned. "Pure, unadulterated charm."

"If you take her to Seattle, you're going to be flying right into that storm."

Joe chuckled and patted his buddy on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We're not going to Seattle. She just thinks we are. We're on our way to Muleshoe like I promised her boss."

"You're going to put her up at the lodge?" Tanner asked. "Are you sure you want to test the legend again? I let Julia in the door and I ended up marrying her."

Joe shook his head. When Julia Logan had showed up at Bachelor Creek Lodge, Joe had been the first one to move out Legend claimed that a woman entering Bachelor Creek Lodge was destined to marry one of the occupants and Joe wasn't about to take any chances. The legend had proved true, but Tanner had been the one to be caught. "Perrie Kincaid is staying in one of the guest cabins."

Tanner blinked. "She isn't going to be so happy with that. No indoor plumbing. In the middle of winter."

"Well, she'll have to live with it," Joe replied. "She's not setting foot in the lodge."

Tanner glanced over at Perrie, then back at Joe. "She doesn't look like the type to live with anything she doesn't like."

"I know," Joe grumbled. "But I'll deal with that problem later."

Perrie huddled down in the copilot's seat, wrapping her arms around herself and stamping her feet. Her breath clouded in front of her and her nose was so cold she was sure it would break off if she rubbed it. "Don't you have any heat in this plane?"

Brennan glanced at her absently, as if surprised that he had a passenger at all. He hadn't said a word since they'd taken off an hour before and seemed quite comfortable with the silence. He closed his hand into a fist and rapped firmly on a spot near the center of the control console. A fan began to whir and, slowly, the cockpit of the Otter warmed to a temperature somewhere above freezing.

"I sure hope the rest of your plane works better than the heater," she muttered.

He grunted in reply, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses and shadowed by the brim of his cap. He seemed intent on the view through the plane's windshield, so Perrie took the opportunity to study him.

She considered herself an excellent judge of character, possessed of the ability to immediately discern a person's true nature and hidden agendas with a simple glance. It had come in handy in her work, allowing her to cut through the bull and get right to the heart of the matter. But Joe Brennan defied an immediate impression.

His physical attributes were simple enough. A long, lean body. Thick, dark hair badly in need of a trim. A handsome face behind the shadowy stubble of a three-day beard. But she'd have to see his eyes to really get a good take on him. And since they'd met, he'd kept his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

Perrie turned her gaze to the landscape below them, searching for the first sight of civilization. But all she saw was forest, broken only by spots and strings of white that she guessed were lakes and rivers in the summer. When she couldn't discern their location, she turned her attention back to the pilot.

Why bother to figure out Joe Brennan? It was a waste of energy. After they landed in Seattle and she paid him off, she'd never see him again. What did she care what kind of character lurked behind his shades? As long as he was a capable pilot, she didn't need to know more.

"How much longer until we land in Seattle?" she asked. "I would have thought we could see the coastline by now. Are we going to have enough gas? Or will we have to stop? I could really go for a cup of coffee right about now."

"There's a thermos behind my seat," he said. "And we're not going to Seattle."

Perrie chuckled and peered out the window. "Of course we're-" Her words died in her throat and she slowly turned to him. "What do you mean, we're not going to Seattle? I'm paying you to take me there."

"I'm taking you to Muleshoe, just like I promised Milt Freeman."

She twisted in her seat, snatching at her seat belt with frantic fingers. "We had a deal, Brennan. Turn this plane around and take me to Seattle."

He turned to her and pushed his sunglasses down on his nose. Brilliant blue eyes sparkled with amusement-and challenge. He met her gaze without blinking and she felt a slow shiver work its way down her spine. For a moment, she couldn't breathe for staring at him.

He made a lazy survey of her face and then her body, and she wondered how many times she'd been observed in the same way from behind the reflective lenses. But her instincts suddenly failed her, for all she could read in Joe Brennan's blue eyes was an instant and undisguised sexual curiosity. A curiosity she shared at that very moment.

The realization rocked her senses and an unexpected flood of desire warmed her blood. She forced herself to glance away, certain that his gorgeous eyes were somehow to blame for her momentary lapse. The guy was a first-class charmer, all right, and he was using his charm to renegotiate the terms of their agreement, employing every available weapon, including her newfound weakness for a handsome face and devilish grin. Well, she wasn't going to fall for it. "I-I want to go back to Seattle," she said, trying to cover a tremor in her voice.

His eyebrow quirked up. "You seem to forget who's flying this plane, Kincaid. You go where I go. Unless, of course, you want to jump. I don't have a parachute with me, but that shouldn't matter to a woman like you."

Azure. His eyes were really more azure than sapphire. The same clear blue of the sky outside. She swallowed hard and ignored the heat mat rose from her throat to her face. "What is that supposed to mean? A woman like me."

"I know your type. Nothing stands in your way, does it?"

No, Perrie never let anything stand between her and her work. But somehow, coming from him, the comment felt more like an insult. She bristled, her sudden attraction now tempered with defiance. "The hell if I'm going to Donkeyleg," she shot back. With a curse, she grabbed the controls on her side of the plane.

He chuckled, then leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her expectantly. "You want to fly her, be my guest. If you can get us back to Seattle, the ride's on me, sweetheart."

She'd never driven a plane before, but it couldn't be all that complicated. She was an intelligent woman, a woman who had once driven in downtown Chicago during a rush-hour snowstorm. At least up here there were no speeding taxis and bothersome pedestrians. There was only up and down and left and right. Though down wasn't a direction she really wanted to explore right at this moment.

Placing her feet on the pedals, she gripped the steering yoke with white-knuckled hands. "You think I can't fly this plane, don't you?" Her words came out through clenched teeth.

"I know you can't fly this plane. But I'm willing to give you a chance."

Grinding her teeth, she slowly turned the steering yoke. The plane responded by making a gentle bank to the right. But as she turned, the plane's nose tipped down slightly. Her eyes went wide.

"You're losing altitude," he commented.

"I know that." She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she knew about airplanes, then slowly pulled back on the yoke. The plane's nose began to rise again and a self-satisfied smile curled her lips. This wasn't so tough. She glanced at the compass. South. They'd have to head south to get to Seattle. And when they got there, she'd make a try at landing the plane. If she knew one thing about Joe Brennan, he wouldn't let her crash his precious plane over the stupid game they were playing.

"Before you fly into that weather ahead, you better file a new flight plan with Fairbanks. They'll need to know what part of the wilderness to search after we go down."

"We're not going down," she said.

"If you fly us into that storm, Kincaid, I can guarantee we'll go down. The wings will ice up and we won't have enough power to maintain our air speed. We'll slowly lose altitude and we'll probably crash somewhere in the Alaska Range. Maybe if we're lucky, you'll hit Mount McKinley."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she snapped.

"Immensely."

Perrie Kincaid did not accept defeat lightly. The truth be told, she couldn't remember the last time she'd thrown in the towel… except for the Saturday she had tried to fix the toilet in her apartment and it flooded the bathroom and the apartment below. A plumber had been her last resort, and she'd called one only after she'd exhausted all her other alternatives.

The dark clouds looming in front of them would more than likely put an end to her short career as a pilot. If she continued this game of one-upmanship with Joe Brennan, it might even end her life. Hell, she'd go to Donkeyleg with him. But she wouldn't let him win. She'd hop the first bus out of that freeze-dried burg and make her own way back to Seattle.

"All right, we'll do it your way," she said, taking her hands off the controls. "For now," she added beneath her breath.

He grinned, shoved his sunglasses back up, then slowly banked the plane until they were headed northeast again. "I think you'll find Muleshoe infinitely more bearable than crashing into a snow-covered mountainside. We've got a tavern, a general store, a mercantile and our own post office. And there's a spaghetti feed at the fire hall on Saturday night."

"Oh boy," Perrie muttered. "A spaghetti feed. I'll try to contain my excitement."

"Welcome to Muleshoe, Kincaid."

Joe watched Perrie peer through the frosty windshield of his Blazer, which he had parked in the middle of Main Street. She didn't have to look hard to see the town, mostly because the greater part of it lined one street.

The buildings were a ramshackle lot of faded paint and rickety porches, frosted windows and wisps of smoke curling around the chimney pipes. Front yards were cluttered with a variety of snow-covered possessions-old tires, dogsleds, snowshoes, fuel drums, rusted canoes, animal pelts-and anything else worth saving for future use. To the outsider, it might appear a bit shabby, but to Joe, it was home.

"Good grief," she muttered. "It's worse than I imagined."

Joe bit back a snide retort. Right now, he wasn't in the mood to get into another "discussion" with Perrie Kincaid, especially in defense of the place he chose to live. "The lodge is about a mile north of town."

"And where do you live?"

"I live at the lodge," he replied.

Perrie gasped. "I'm staying with you?"

"Actually, you're staying in one of our guest cabins on the property. It's a real nice little place. You'll be warm and cozy. I had Burdy McCormack supply the place with everything you'll need for your stay. If I know Burdy, he's got a fire blazing in the stove and a pot of coffee brewing. He'll be your neighbor. After the Yukon freezes, he comes in from his claim and spends the winter in the cabin next to yours. Burdy makes a run into Muleshoe every day, so if you need something from town or you need a ride in, just flip up the flag on your front porch and he'll stop."

She slowly released a long breath and rubbed her arms. "Don't bother with the cabin, Brennan. Just take me to the nearest public transportation. The bus station will do."

When was she going to give up? He swore he'd never met a more pigheaded, single-minded woman in his life. And why he found her attractive, he'd yet to figure out. "I can't do that," he replied, leaning back in his seat and fixing her with a weary look.

"You might as well." She tipped her chin up in a way that had already become familiar to him. "I'll just walk there on my own. You can't stop me from leaving."

"That would be a little tough, seeing as the nearest bus station is halfway back to Fairbanks."

Perrie closed her eyes, her jaw tightening. Here it comes, he thought to himself. She'd been itching for another go-round since their confrontation in the plane and he knew he was about to feel the sting of her tongue. But she slowly schooled her temper and forced a smile. "All right, I'll just stand here on Main Street and stick out my thumb. There's bound to be a truck that comes by headed for civilization. Unless you're going to tell me you don't have roads and trucks up here."

"Oh, we have roads. Trucks, too. But not in the winter. This is the end of the highway, Kincaid, and once you're in Muleshoe after the first big snow, you're pretty much here for the duration. Until the spring thaw, that is."

Perrie arched her eyebrow dubiously. "What about this road? Where does it go?"

"Right now, not much of anywhere. Erv runs the plow. He keeps the road dear out to the airstrip and north to just beyond the lodge. But trying to clear the snow any further is like dusting in a sandstorm. Once you're finished, a new storm just moves in and blocks the roads again."

"Do you mean to tell me that there's no way out of town?"

"Sure mere is. In my plane. But you already know I'm not real partial to that idea."

Narrowing her eyes, Perrie cursed beneath her breath. Then she grabbed the door handle and jumped out of the truck. As soon as she hit the ground, her feet slipped out from under her on the hard-packed snow. She steadied herself against the truck then began to pace. "What about food?" she said, stopping to stick her head through the open truck door.

"We bring that in by truck in the fall. Mostly canned and dried. We've got fresh meat frozen over at Kelly's meat locker. Venison, moose, caribou, salmon and a few sides of beef, as well. But if you're looking for fresh fruits and vegetables, you're pretty much out of luck. I bring in what I can, but only when I've got room in the plane."

She paced back and forth a few more times, nervous energy vibrating from her body with each step, then stopped again. "What happens when someone gets sick?"

"If it's an emergency, I fly them out. Or they send up an evac plane from the hospital in Fairbanks. And if the weather is bad, well, then your chances aren't the best. This is a hard life up here, Kincaid. You're pretty much standing on the edge of the frontier. Once you cross the Yukon River, there's not another town for at least two hundred miles."

She clenched her fists and snarled in frustration. Hell, she even looked beautiful when she was angry and about to spit nails. Color rose in her cheeks and her green eyes came alive with light, and he found himself unable to keep from staring.

"How do people get to work?" she snapped.

"Everyone works on the land. They hunt and fish. They get by."

She stopped her pacing in front of him and scrambled back into the truck. Desperation filled her gaze and she reached out and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, then yanked him close. "I have got to get out of here, Brennan. You can take me right now, or I'll start walking. Either way, I'm going back to Seattle."

He pulled off his sunglasses and leaned closer, his mouth hovering over hers, his jaw tight with anger. He could feel her warm breath as it clouded up around his face in the cold. A tiny thread of desire snaked through him and his gaze skipped to her lips. An unbidden urge to cover her mouth with his own teased at his mind. Would her lips be as soft as they looked? How would she taste? And would a kiss finally shut her up?

He gripped the steering wheel with one hand until his fingers went numb. He didn't want to kiss her. What he really wanted to do was shake her until her teeth rattled. "Damn it, Kincaid, don't be a fool. If you try to walk out of here, you'll be dead in a day. The weather can change in the blink of an eye. There's a reason the road is closed. So fools like you won't risk their necks trying to travel. You're here until I fly you out, and the sooner you get that through your stubborn head, the better."

She blinked, then frowned, drawing back slightly to look at him. Her gaze flitted over his angry expression, her eyes wide. Finally, he thought to himself, realization. After all this wasted time bickering with her, she'd decided to listen to reason. Maybe now she'd quit fighting the inevitable. She was here to stay until Milt Freeman told him it was safe to fly her out again.

"You want to kiss me, don't you?" Her husky voice was mixed with an equal measure of surprise and smug satisfaction.

A sharp laugh burst from his throat, but it sounded hollow and forced. He shifted in his seat, but she wouldn't let go of his jacket. What the hell? Was she a mind reader as well as a major pain in the backside? Or was his desire so easy to discern?

It had been a while since he'd had a woman. In fact, he'd been afraid to admit that he was going through a bit of a slump lately. There had been plenty of possibilities, plenty of romantic dinners, but that was about it. Not prepared to risk betraying another errant impulse to her prying gaze, he turned and looked out the front windshield, slowly slipping his sunglasses back on. "You have a rather high opinion of yourself, don't you, Kincaid?"

She sighed, then released his lapels and pushed away from him impatiently. "It's no big deal. I mean, why try to hide it? You're a healthy guy, living up here in the middle of nowhere. I'm an attractive, educated woman. You can say it, Brennan. I'm certainly not a prude. I'll admit it-I find myself slightly attracted to you, as well. Inexplicable, but an attraction nonetheless."

He reached for the key and started the truck, taking a small measure of satisfaction that the attraction was reciprocated. Still, all his good sense told him that pursuing Perrie Kincaid would be a colossal mistake. The sooner he dumped her at her cabin, the sooner he'd be able to escape from those disturbing green eyes. She was far too perceptive-and outspoken-for his tastes. Even if she was the only decent-looking woman in a fifty-mile radius. "Are you always so blunt?"

"I don't consider it a failing," she said. "In my line of work, it's a necessity. I always say what's on my mind. Why waste time dancing around the issue when you can cut right to the chase? It saves a lot of time and trouble."

"Well, as long as you're here in Muleshoe, you may want to tone it down a bit. You'll make more friends if you don't go blurting out every thought that comes into your head. Especially your rather negative opinions about Muleshoe."

"I'm not planning to stick around long enough to make friends."

"Whatever you say, Kincaid," he muttered, shifting the truck into drive and punching the accelerator. The back end fishtailed until he brought it under control. "I just don't want to be putting you in Kelly's meat locker."

"You'd lock me in a meat locker to keep me here?"

"No, that's where we put our dead folks until we can fly them out to the funeral home in Fairbanks. If you're planning to try to get out on your own, you'll end up there sooner or later."

She wriggled down in her seat and shot him an uneasy look. "I'll keep that in mind, Brennan."

As they drove down Main Street, Joe pointed out the major landmarks-the general store, the tavern, the mercantile, the post office-but she showed little interest. "And that's the brides' house, right over there." He pointed to a little cabin with smoke curling out of the stone chimney. "The bachelors built it last summer when they cooked up their mail-order plan. They figured to bring the brides up in the middle of the winter to test their mettle. If they could survive the snow and cold, then they might just be worth marrying. You might want to stop by and say hello. The three of them are the greatest concentration of the female sex you're likely to see between here and Fairbanks."

"I don't think we'll have a lot in common," she said, giving the cabin no more than a cursory glance.

"You never know."

"I'm supposed to write an article about them. Milt assigned it to me before he banished me from Seattle. I can't imagine why any woman in her right mind would choose to live out here."

"It's not all that bad," he said, wondering why he even bothered to defend it to her. "Some women find it a challenge. Not everyone loves living shoulder to shoulder in a city. All the noise, the pollution… the crime. I wouldn't be surprised if you got to like it a little bit."

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." She leaned her head against the window and observed the scenery in silence.

Joe carefully negotiated the curve out of town, swinging his truck wide around a snowdrift that the wind had kicked up. He sure hoped Milt Freeman knew what he was doing sending Perrie Kincaid to Muleshoe. More than a few women and a good number of men had cracked under the endless boredom and isolation of an Alaskan winter. If the snow and cold didn't get to a person, the endless nights would. Days were short and darkness came early.

He didn't want to be around when Perrie Kincaid started suffering the combined effects of cabin fever and sunshine deprivation. The sooner Milt Freeman and the Seattle police solved her problems, the better off he'd be.

The better off they'd all be.