It was clear to her, if not to him, that they couldn’t both stay in Hard Luck. One of them had to leave. Leaning back in her chair, Chrissie tried to think rationally about it. Since he’d only recently returned and was now a partner in the family business, it didn’t seem right that Scott should leave.
She was the one who’d have to go. Tears threatened again, but she refused to give in to self-pity. She’d move to Fairbanks, she decided. Get out of Scott’s way.
That decision made, there was only one thing left to do.
Tell Tracy, and then Scott.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SCOTT HADN’T SLEPT all night, and he suspected Chrissie hadn’t, either. He was bushed. After a visit to the office to drop off his flight bag and chat briefly with Mariah, he headed home. He genuinely sympathized with Chrissie, having to work all day. But the sad fact was, she didn’t want his sympathy or, unfortunately, anything else to do with him.
When he made a quick stop at the Hard Luck Lodge, Matt and Karen were openly curious about what had happened between him and Chrissie, but they accepted his vague explanation. Once in his cabin, he stood under a long hot shower and then collapsed on his bed, falling instantly asleep.
A pounding on his door woke him. Light bore into the bedroom’s one window and he glanced at his clock radio, astonished to see that it was already midafternoon.
“Just a minute,” he growled. Grabbing a pair of jeans, he hurriedly pulled them on, along with a sweatshirt. He padded barefoot to the door, yawning as he went.
Finding Chrissie on the other side was a shock. He froze, his yawn half-completed.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked stiffly.
“Sure,” he said, and stepped aside. From the tight lines about her eyes and mouth, he could tell she hadn’t had a good day. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and she looked in desperate need of sleep. He wondered what was so important that it couldn’t wait.
Chrissie peered inside the small cabin and shook her head. “Not here.”
“Where, then?” he asked, not quite concealing his irritation.
“Can you meet me at the Hard Luck Café in fifteen minutes?”
He hesitated, thinking this probably wasn’t the best time for them to discuss anything. Not with her so tired she could barely keep her eyes open and with him feeling so on edge. Despite that, he was curious. “I’ll be there,” he said briskly.
“I’ll get us a booth.”
He closed the door, then rubbed his face. Something was up, and he was about to learn what. It took him the full fifteen minutes to find his shoes, socks and gather his scattered wits.
The September wind cut into him as he hurried toward the café. As promised, Chrissie was sitting in a corner booth, her hands clutching a mug. The lunch crowd had disappeared, with only one or two stragglers. Ben and Mary stared at him, their curiosity as keen as his own.
“She’s been here all of five minutes,” Ben whispered when Scott stopped to collect his own coffee.
“Looking at her watch every few seconds,” Mary added.
“She wants to talk to me,” Scott muttered.
“We’ll see that you have as much privacy as you need,” Mary assured him.
“You settle this matter once and for all,” Ben said. “You’re both miserable, and the whole damn town with you.”
Scott had to grin. “I’ll do my best.”
He carried his coffee to the booth and slid in across from Chrissie. “You have something to say?”
“I do.” Her back was ramrod-straight, her arms unbending as she held her coffee away from her, both hands clamped around the mug.
Scott waited for several minutes, his patience wearing thin when she still didn’t speak.
“Are you aware,” she finally said, keeping her gaze focused on the tabletop, “that we have a problem?”
“What do you mean?” He wasn’t being sarcastic, just inquisitive.
“Did you notice how everyone gathered at the airfield?”
He’d noticed, all right.
“How did that make you feel?” she asked.
He shrugged, wondering if there was a correct answer. “Uncomfortable, I guess.”
“Embarrassed?”
“Yeah.”
“Me, too.” Her look softened perceptibly.
“Everyone was expecting something from us.”
“They weren’t interested in your American Express card,” he said in a weak attempt at a joke.
“No,” she told him, with not even a hint of humor. “What they were looking for was some sign from us.”
“True,” he admitted, refusing to sound defensive, “and we gave it to them, don’t you think?”
“Oh, we sure did,” she returned.
“So what’s the problem?”
She glared at him as though he should have figured it out long ago. “The problem is, we’ve disappointed the whole town.”
His friends and family weren’t nearly as disappointed as Scott himself was, but he didn’t mention that. In his view, he’d laid his heart on the line already. He’d told Chrissie he loved her and she’d laughed in his face. His pride had reached its quota for abuse, and he wasn’t willing to accept more.
“I feel that we can no longer both remain in Hard Luck,” she announced.