[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
put Sarah at ease. Yet, the more she looked out the window, the more she saw this starkly
beautiful landscape, and the more she feared what she had to do. Hodges & Associates sent
her out here on a mission. She couldn t let her spiritual or her environmental beliefs get in the
way. No matter if DC politics sickened her on the best of days, and made her wish she were
far, far away on the worst.
The plane began a steep descent, cutting off her thoughts. Sarah swallowed hard, her
fingers once more gripping the armrest as the plane bumped and jolted its way down to the
strip of runway outside of Deadhorse. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to block out the images
45
of bloated, dead carcasses the town s name invoked. A slight bump announced the plane s
touchdown, and she breathed a sigh of relief. On firm ground once again.
She used the moments while the plane taxied to the terminal to calm her racing heart
and wrap her political shell around her. She was here on a fact finding mission. Once she met
up with Liam from Round the Bend EcoTours, she d see the Brooks Range and what the oil
pipeline was doing, or not doing, to the environment. Once that was done, she d return to her
cushy apartment in Washington D.C., where the wildest thing she had to deal with was the
non-stop city traffic, and write her report. Fair and unbiased. She could do this. She had to do
this.
The plane stopped and the pilot thanked them for flying with him, as if any of them
really had a choice. She fished her sunglasses out of her carry-on and put them on before
disembarking to gather her luggage. Just a small suitcase and camping supplies, but she had
no doubt they d be enough to carry into the terminal. She scanned the area, but didn t see
anyone who looked like her contact. I don t know why you re worrying about this. Just write
your report and come back. It s not that big of a deal. Her fiancé s words haunted her as she
slung her backpacking frame over her shoulders and pulled out the handle on her rolling
suitcase. Sarah curled her lip in disgust. Walt Beamer hadn t been beyond the city limits a day
in his life and didn t understand what it meant to be out here. He didn t understand what her
work meant to her. She drew in a breath of fresh, clean air, available even here at the airport,
and smiled.
Just inside the terminal, Sarah removed her sunglasses and blinked at the sudden
change in lighting. The small building housed worn chairs that looked left over from the 70s
and a few vending machines.
A man leaned against the wall next to the coffee machine. Thick hair the color of
polished mahogany hung in soft waves nearly to his collar. He towered over most of the
men other than her, there were no women in the terminal. Dressed in a long-sleeved black
turtleneck that stretched across his broad chest, worn blue jeans, and heavy hiking boots, he
radiated masculinity. Just looking at him made her throat dry and her pulse leap. She d be in
the backwoods of Alaska with him. Her body hummed at the prospect, and she struggled to
keep her fiancé s image foremost in her mind, though compared to this woodsman, a slick city
lawyer had no chance.
Guilt assailed her. Just because she and Walt were having problems didn t mean she should
act impulsively. She could be professional. After all, she d come out here to write her report
on the impact of drilling on the environment. An impartial report, as her boss had reminded
her time and time again with an implied wink and nod. She knew exactly what her boss
expected to read. First, she d gather the facts. Then, she d write the report they required.
The man straightened. He gave her a long perusal, his shuttered gaze not giving anything
away. His attention lingered on the thrust of her breasts against the faded oversized
University of Mary Washington sweatshirt she wore, then down the length of her legs. He
gave a slight nod at her hiking boots, as if she wasn t completely without common sense, then
with the leisurely stride of a man completely in control of his environment, he walked toward
her. A hint of a smile crossed his chiseled lips as he neared.
Sarah Doyle? He held out a large hand.
46
She released the handle of her small suitcase and clasped it. His handshake was firm,
but not overly so. Where his fingers touched hers, tingles shot up her arm. You re Liam? She
released his fingers.
He nodded. Let me help you with that.
Thanks. Sarah slid her backpacking frame from her shoulders, deciding there wasn t
any harm in letting him carry it to the vehicle. She d carry it often enough if her plans to live
out in the field bore fruit. I appreciate that. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase.
The truck s this way. Without waiting for her, he easily lifted her gear, the muscles in
his biceps bulging. Sarah tried not to notice, just as she tried to ignore the way his jeans clung
to his rear. She had an engagement ring tucked in her dresser back home. She shouldn t be
looking at him this way. Damn Walt and his angry words. She sighed, knowing she d have to
make a decision one way or the other about his proposal. And right now, the fact that she d
taken off the ring and put it in her jewelry box spoke volumes.
She followed him to the truck, where he opened the door and helped her inside.
Moments later, they were on their way.
Not one to chatter, Sarah watched as the scenery changed from the homes and small
businesses designed to cater to the oil workers, to the sparse landscape. On the horizon, she
thought she saw an elk, though the thought of wildlife so close to town seemed foreign to her.
She d read there were bears here. Both black bears and grizzlies, and a shudder wound its way
down her spine at the thought of meeting them in the woods.
Cold? Liam asked. His voice sounded like Swiss chocolate. Just the sound of it chased
the chill from her and filled her with liquid heat. Damn it, why was she so hot for this guy?
I m fine. Just a shock from the weather in DC, she answered.
I ll bet. The lower 48 has nothing on us. His smile flashed white teeth against his
tanned skin. The lodge is just about five miles from town. We ll be there shortly. He turned
onto a gravel road, maneuvering the large quad-cab truck easily between ruts and larger
rocks. True to his word, he pulled up in front of the lodge before much longer.
The two story building, built from stone and logs, rose from a flat plain around it.
Liam pressed the garage door opener on the sun visor, and the door opened to reveal room for
three cars, though one of the bays held an ATV and a snowmobile. A red jeep sat in the other
parking spot. He pulled the truck in and stopped. Just as before, he held the door open for her
and grabbed her backpack frame before she could protest, then led her into the building.
An open floor plan showcased a large living area with a fireplace and a kitchen with a
spacious dining area. A short hall led to closed doors, and a wooden staircase led to the
upstairs rooms. A balcony overlooked the living room with its large windows that looked out [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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put Sarah at ease. Yet, the more she looked out the window, the more she saw this starkly
beautiful landscape, and the more she feared what she had to do. Hodges & Associates sent
her out here on a mission. She couldn t let her spiritual or her environmental beliefs get in the
way. No matter if DC politics sickened her on the best of days, and made her wish she were
far, far away on the worst.
The plane began a steep descent, cutting off her thoughts. Sarah swallowed hard, her
fingers once more gripping the armrest as the plane bumped and jolted its way down to the
strip of runway outside of Deadhorse. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to block out the images
45
of bloated, dead carcasses the town s name invoked. A slight bump announced the plane s
touchdown, and she breathed a sigh of relief. On firm ground once again.
She used the moments while the plane taxied to the terminal to calm her racing heart
and wrap her political shell around her. She was here on a fact finding mission. Once she met
up with Liam from Round the Bend EcoTours, she d see the Brooks Range and what the oil
pipeline was doing, or not doing, to the environment. Once that was done, she d return to her
cushy apartment in Washington D.C., where the wildest thing she had to deal with was the
non-stop city traffic, and write her report. Fair and unbiased. She could do this. She had to do
this.
The plane stopped and the pilot thanked them for flying with him, as if any of them
really had a choice. She fished her sunglasses out of her carry-on and put them on before
disembarking to gather her luggage. Just a small suitcase and camping supplies, but she had
no doubt they d be enough to carry into the terminal. She scanned the area, but didn t see
anyone who looked like her contact. I don t know why you re worrying about this. Just write
your report and come back. It s not that big of a deal. Her fiancé s words haunted her as she
slung her backpacking frame over her shoulders and pulled out the handle on her rolling
suitcase. Sarah curled her lip in disgust. Walt Beamer hadn t been beyond the city limits a day
in his life and didn t understand what it meant to be out here. He didn t understand what her
work meant to her. She drew in a breath of fresh, clean air, available even here at the airport,
and smiled.
Just inside the terminal, Sarah removed her sunglasses and blinked at the sudden
change in lighting. The small building housed worn chairs that looked left over from the 70s
and a few vending machines.
A man leaned against the wall next to the coffee machine. Thick hair the color of
polished mahogany hung in soft waves nearly to his collar. He towered over most of the
men other than her, there were no women in the terminal. Dressed in a long-sleeved black
turtleneck that stretched across his broad chest, worn blue jeans, and heavy hiking boots, he
radiated masculinity. Just looking at him made her throat dry and her pulse leap. She d be in
the backwoods of Alaska with him. Her body hummed at the prospect, and she struggled to
keep her fiancé s image foremost in her mind, though compared to this woodsman, a slick city
lawyer had no chance.
Guilt assailed her. Just because she and Walt were having problems didn t mean she should
act impulsively. She could be professional. After all, she d come out here to write her report
on the impact of drilling on the environment. An impartial report, as her boss had reminded
her time and time again with an implied wink and nod. She knew exactly what her boss
expected to read. First, she d gather the facts. Then, she d write the report they required.
The man straightened. He gave her a long perusal, his shuttered gaze not giving anything
away. His attention lingered on the thrust of her breasts against the faded oversized
University of Mary Washington sweatshirt she wore, then down the length of her legs. He
gave a slight nod at her hiking boots, as if she wasn t completely without common sense, then
with the leisurely stride of a man completely in control of his environment, he walked toward
her. A hint of a smile crossed his chiseled lips as he neared.
Sarah Doyle? He held out a large hand.
46
She released the handle of her small suitcase and clasped it. His handshake was firm,
but not overly so. Where his fingers touched hers, tingles shot up her arm. You re Liam? She
released his fingers.
He nodded. Let me help you with that.
Thanks. Sarah slid her backpacking frame from her shoulders, deciding there wasn t
any harm in letting him carry it to the vehicle. She d carry it often enough if her plans to live
out in the field bore fruit. I appreciate that. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase.
The truck s this way. Without waiting for her, he easily lifted her gear, the muscles in
his biceps bulging. Sarah tried not to notice, just as she tried to ignore the way his jeans clung
to his rear. She had an engagement ring tucked in her dresser back home. She shouldn t be
looking at him this way. Damn Walt and his angry words. She sighed, knowing she d have to
make a decision one way or the other about his proposal. And right now, the fact that she d
taken off the ring and put it in her jewelry box spoke volumes.
She followed him to the truck, where he opened the door and helped her inside.
Moments later, they were on their way.
Not one to chatter, Sarah watched as the scenery changed from the homes and small
businesses designed to cater to the oil workers, to the sparse landscape. On the horizon, she
thought she saw an elk, though the thought of wildlife so close to town seemed foreign to her.
She d read there were bears here. Both black bears and grizzlies, and a shudder wound its way
down her spine at the thought of meeting them in the woods.
Cold? Liam asked. His voice sounded like Swiss chocolate. Just the sound of it chased
the chill from her and filled her with liquid heat. Damn it, why was she so hot for this guy?
I m fine. Just a shock from the weather in DC, she answered.
I ll bet. The lower 48 has nothing on us. His smile flashed white teeth against his
tanned skin. The lodge is just about five miles from town. We ll be there shortly. He turned
onto a gravel road, maneuvering the large quad-cab truck easily between ruts and larger
rocks. True to his word, he pulled up in front of the lodge before much longer.
The two story building, built from stone and logs, rose from a flat plain around it.
Liam pressed the garage door opener on the sun visor, and the door opened to reveal room for
three cars, though one of the bays held an ATV and a snowmobile. A red jeep sat in the other
parking spot. He pulled the truck in and stopped. Just as before, he held the door open for her
and grabbed her backpack frame before she could protest, then led her into the building.
An open floor plan showcased a large living area with a fireplace and a kitchen with a
spacious dining area. A short hall led to closed doors, and a wooden staircase led to the
upstairs rooms. A balcony overlooked the living room with its large windows that looked out [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]