Love & Moosechief, page 1
Love & Moosechief
Finding Love in Alaska Book 4
Jacqueline Winters
Love & Moosechief is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Jacqueline Winters
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copy Editor: Write Girl Editing Services
Cover Design: Alt 19 Creative
Proofreading: FictionEdit.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Next in Series
About the Author
Sneak Peek of UNDER THE MOOSELTOE
Chapter One
Kinley
“You must be the infamous Ed.” Kinley James stood at the top of the small knoll that once held a prominent wooden sign, welcoming visitors and residents alike to Sunset Ridge. That massive sign, though freshened up with some paint, was the same one Kinley saw in her rearview mirror the day she graduated high school.
She never intended to see it again.
Now, it lay on the ground, splintered and face down.
The notorious moose, Ed, somehow a local favorite though Kinley couldn’t quite figure out why, stood off to the side of the sign. Blinking at her. Just blinking.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to pay for the damages?” Kinley retreated from the top of the grassy mound to lean against the side of the older Buick, thankful the bumper was not only still attached but mostly intact. Aunt Fiona had enough to worry about with her broken wrist. Kinley didn’t want her worrying about their only mode of transportation being out of commission.
The bull took a step toward the tree line then stopped, looking over his shoulder. As if he intended to sneak away without her noticing.
“Go ahead.” Kinley threw her hands up in exasperation. “Leave the scene of the crime so no one believes me.”
She’d only been back in town for three days. Three wonderful days in which not a soul recognized her. Had it not been for the relic of a car she was forced to drive, she might’ve pulled off her tourist guise for the duration of her two-week stay.
At least, that was a nice lie to tell herself before she took out the town’s sign with Fiona’s Buick. It would be easier to book a ticket to the moon than keep her return a secret.
Since Ed had decided to saunter onto the road as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, forcing her to swerve a hard right into the ditch to miss him, Kinley felt certain her cover was already blown. She gave it half a day before all of Sunset Ridge decided she used her aunt’s car as a battering ram to take her disdain out on the town sign.
Probably shouldn’t have given that speech at graduation.
“You couldn’t even give me one more day to hide out?” Though it was easy enough to blame the moose, it was really the letter that had caused all this. A letter written by her mother—deceased more than a decade—that Kinley had been sitting on since it arrived in her mailbox.
For two years, she’d kept it at the bottom of a shoebox filled with letters and birthday cards sent to her over the duration of her Army enlistment. Every time she slid the box from beneath her bed to add a new piece of mail, she resisted the urge to read her mother’s handwritten letter hidden at the bottom of the stack. No good could come from drumming up past secrets.
But as she found herself at a crossroads, the urge to know tugged at her. Answers the letter promised were readily available, waiting. Before Kinley made the decision that would shape the better part of her future, she wanted to uncover the truth.
“What do I do now, Ed?” she asked the bull, though she hardly understood why. She would not become one of those locals who talked to the wildlife as if they understood.
Yet, here she was.
The moose lingered at the tree line, almost as if it pitied Kinley’s predicament. Luckily, she was spared the brunt of embarrassment by unusually light traffic. The fewer witnesses, the better. Sunset Ridge was a tourist trap all summer long. She hoped to be long gone before the start of that madness.
The Buick was too high-centered on the embankment to drive in reverse. All she’d accomplish was digging her tires deeper into the soft earth. But without friends who’d answer her call, Kinley was at a loss about a next step.
“Coming back was a mistake,” she muttered. “Stupid letter.”
Fate had given her a not-so-gentle nudge the day Aunt Fiona called and confessed a broken arm. The shoebox containing the letter she hadn’t touched in two years spilled out during that conversation. The light blue envelope—right on top of the scattered pile—taunted her.
Before that letter, Kinley had accepted that learning the identity of her father was impossible. That her mother took that secret to the grave. But the letter promised one other person knew the truth. Kinley was on a plane two days later, making good on an offer to help Fiona while her arm healed.
“Guess I’ll call Fiona,” she mumbled, fishing her phone from the center console of the car. Would anyone believe she wasn’t texting and driving when Ed wandered onto the road? She hoped for a signal, hard to come by on the outskirts of Sunset Ridge. A landline at Fiona’s cabin did little good if she couldn’t get a call to go through.
As she reached her phone up toward the sky, hoping for at least one more bar, Ed let out a loud snorting huff then sauntered off into the woods. At least she was convinced it was Ed. No other moose she encountered before had ever acted that way, like a stray dog who couldn’t quite decide whether or not to trust the intriguing human. Add to that his slightly unusual antlers, and he matched Fiona’s description to a tee.
No signal.
She leaned in through the open driver’s side window to grab her purse. The offending blueberry scones that caused this mess could endure their punishment on the passenger side floor. Had they not slipped off the seat, Kinley would already be back at the cabin instead of a tourist eyesore on the side of the road.
The whine of a siren caused every muscle in her body to freeze.
“Great,” she muttered, annoyed to discover that the first passerby to stop would be a cop. “So much for staying under the radar.”
Kinley wondered which of Sunset Ridge’s finest might be arresting her today. Or at least, writing her up and promising a hefty bill in the mail. She could tolerate almost anyone except Ryder Grant, the boy who stole her first kiss when they were fourteen. Kinley had been doing her best to avoid him ever since Fiona told her he was the Sunset Ridge police chief.
Slowly, she pulled the upper half of her body from the open window and turned to greet the embarrassment head-on.
Ryder Grant. Of course it is. Had they stayed friends in high school, she might have some hope to sweettalk her way out of this mess.
“What happened here?” Ryder’s deep, stern voice boomed as he approached. The man filled out his uniform in all the best ways. He’d always had the firm muscles, but the beard was new. It made him look . . . attractive. Attractive in that official Alaskan way.
Kinley ripped her gaze away, hating how tongue-tied she felt. She forced words out anyway. “There was a moose, probably Ernie.”
“Ernie?”
“The famous one.” Why was the name now eluding her when she needed it most? “You know. Ted?”
“Ed.”
“Yeah. That one. He was standing in the middle of the road. I had to swerve to miss him—”
“Have you had anything to drink today?”
Of course that would be the first question Ryder Grant asked her after nearly a decade. His physical appeal slipped away by the second, making it easier for her to regain her ground. Kinley let out a laugh of exasperation, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. “No.”
“Nothing to drink?”
“I don’t drink.” Kinley had been witness to too many incidents involving soldiers and alcohol. It ruined careers and took lives. She’d never wanted any part of it.
Ryder turned a full, slow circle. When he faced her again, he said, “I don’t see any sign of Ed.” He removed his sunglasses, revealing startling intense eyes. Once upon a time, when she was fourteen, those brown eyes convinced her that Ryder was the perfect boy to give her first kiss to. Now, they unsettled her. “It’s not fair to blame the local moose. If you were on your phone—”
“I wasn’t.”
“The rebel Kinley James doesn’t text and drive?”
“I’m not that girl anymore.” The Army had changed a lot of things about her life for the better. Made her more responsible. Gave her purpose when before she had none other than escaping this suffocating town.
Kinley leaned against the hood of the car as she waited for Ryder to assess the scene. He’d always had that analytical edge to him that brought out his inner nerd. The trait the popular crowd stunted when he started hanging out with them. It was the part of him she liked the most.
The collision with the signpost replayed in her mind. The bumper tapping the wooden post. The rocking of the massive billboard. For several moments, Kinley’d held her breath. Please don’t fall over. Please don’t fall over.
Just when she thought the sign might survive and she dared to exit the car, ominous creaking echoed through the air.
She watched in horror as it teetered on the weakened post. The sign wobbled and stilled. Then wobbled again and dropped forward. The cracking of wood assaulted her ears, though Ed hardly shuffled more than a step at the offending noise. By some miracle, the sign fell forward down the hill and not backward onto the hood of the Buick.
The sign splintered down the center. If the thing weren’t bigger than the car, she might’ve tried to catch it before it fell. But that attempt would’ve left Kinley flattened like a pancake beneath the wreckage.
“You look like you swallowed sour milk,” said Ryder. He dropped into a squat at the post, studying it from every angle.
Kinley gave up guessing what he thought he might discover down there. It all seemed so obvious to her. “You’d look that way too if you took out the town sign and the police chief was the first one to find you.”
Ryder might’ve flashed a smile, though if he did, it didn’t last. He looked much too serious, and for reasons Kinley couldn’t quite put her finger on, that bothered her. What had Ryder’s life become since graduation day? He’d always wanted to be in law enforcement. He loved Sunset Ridge almost as much as the town loved him, so discovering he became the local police chief wasn’t surprising.
But that all-too-serious frown was.
“What’s the protocol here, Chief?” Kinley asked, dreading the answer. Another car passed by, slowing way down. At this rate, the entire town would know she was back within an hour. Ava would no doubt be extra salty to find out that way.
“I could write you a ticket for reckless driving.”
“You’re kidding.”
Ryder stretched back up to his feet. “Nope. The sign is twenty feet off the highway and up a small hill.”
Kinley felt the unexpected sting of tears early enough to ward them off as the memory flashed. The massive, antlered moose standing in the center of the road, staring at her car. Kinley profusely honking her horn. The beast unmoving. She was forced to swerve into the shallow ditch. In her panic, she floored the gas pedal instead of hitting the brake. The momentum launched her up the small knoll.
She would not cry. Clearing her throat, she repeated, “It was Ed.”
Ryder might’ve laughed if the quick rising and falling of his shoulders was any indication. Though his lips, hardened into a straight line, didn’t bend. “Sure, blame the moose. I’m sure the mayor’ll love to hear that.”
“The mayor?”
“It’ll be up to him.” Ryder pointed at the fallen sign. “What to do about it.”
“Who is the mayor these days?”
“Lee Daniels.”
Kinley felt her heart sink into her stomach, crushing any hope that this incident stayed off the record. “It would be him, wouldn’t it?”
“He’ll probably expect you to pay for the damages,” Ryder offered, his words gentler than before. Almost as if he was extending a shred of sympathy for her craptastic situation. “Might have me issue a ticket.”
If Kinley had another encounter with the notorious Ed, she was going to let the moose have a piece of her mind. “Can you help me get my car back on the road?”
Ryder crouched down to look beneath the car. “Looks like you’re a bit stuck.”
“Really?” she snapped, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Here I thought I was out of gas.”
“Not too late to write you that ticket, you know.” As he rose, she saw the first traces of a smile. A real smile. One that she remembered well from the summer when they were friends, untainted by high school popularity and the weight of other peoples’ opinions. “I’ll call Liam. See if he can’t make it out this way to pull you out.”
Kinley didn’t know who Liam was, and was too wiped to solve that puzzle from memory. “Sure we need a tow truck?”
“Yep.”
Ryder stalked off toward his car to make the call, leaving Kinley to wait. A string of cars passed, each one slowing to gawk at the scene. So much for keeping this quiet.
“Liam’ll be here in about an hour,” Ryder said when he returned.
“An hour?”
“He’s finishing up a job. He’ll be over after.”
“No one else has a tow truck?”
Ryder’s shoulders rocked with another laugh. “You forget where you’re at?”
Never. “Guess I could walk.” Fiona’s cabin was a little more than a mile down a dirt road, the turn just past the sign. But without another vehicle, she’d have to return on foot. She’d be eaten alive by mosquitoes before the ordeal was over.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
Kinley hated leaving the Buick as a spectacle for locals and tourists alike. She suspected it was the oldest running car in town, and therefore a highly recognizable classic. But she hated the idea of waiting here with the car even more. “Fine.”
“You could try thank you,” Ryder said as they walked toward the patrol car, lights still flashing, drawing additional attention. Cars slowed on the highway, passengers glued to their windows. Kinley ignored them the best she could, but the feeling in the pit of her stomach was the same one she’d felt too often growing up here.
“Thank you for the ride.” Her tone dripped with the sarcasm she couldn’t seem to shake. “Do I at least get to sit up front?”
“I don’t know.”
“What?” Fiona would have a mild heart attack if Kinley arrived in the back seat of a police car.
“Kidding. Lighten up, Kin. The sign can be fixed, and I’m not arresting you. The day’s not all bad, right?”
Dropping into the passenger seat of Ryder’s patrol car, Kinley remembered the scones. She debated whether to retrieve them from the car, considering all but one had stayed inside the container.
“What brought you back to town anyway?” Ryder’s question made the decision for her.
I’ll get them later.
“Fiona broke her arm and needs some help,” she answered as they rolled through the rural residential neighborhood. Half of Sunset Ridge’s population lived on the town’s outskirts, preferring privacy they couldn’t achieve in the crowded neighborhoods. And, as had always been her family’s case, the cheaper rent.
“I thought I heard something about that. How did that happen, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Kinley searched her memory for the answer she was certain Ryder already knew. Most of Sunset Ridge had to know. She remembered the night Fiona called to tell her about the incident. But Kinley had been too distracted by the letter to recall the details of Fiona’s mishap. “I’ll let her tell you the story,” Kinley evaded. “She gets a kick out of that.”
“I’m sure she’s happy having you home,” Ryder added as he turned into Fiona’s driveway. “What’s it been? Eight years?”
“Nine.” For nearly a decade, she’d managed to avoid this town by sending Fiona plane tickets to meet her in various places where Kinley was stationed. She never expected Sunset Ridge would summon her back the way it did.
“What’s your plan? Visiting or moving ba—”
“I’m not staying.” Kinley had no illusions that learning the identity of her father would change her feelings about this town. She might view it with a slightly less harsh lens than her grieving teenage self had, but it would never feel like home.
