Emily's New Life

Emily’s New Life By

Barrie Abalard

Emily’s New Life By

Barrie Abalard A Newsite Web Services Book Published by arrangement with the author All rights reserved. Copyright 2008 © by Barrie Abalard This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission of the author or Newsite Web Services, LLC Published by Newsite Web Services, LLC P.O. Box 1286, Loganville, Georgia 30052 USA [email protected] disciplineanddesire.com

Dedication

To the marvelous people I met in the Great State of Alaska—I hope to come back soon!

Notices

Emily’s New Life is a work of complete fiction. No character in the book is meant to represent any real person, living or dead. Emily’s New Life contains sexual fantasies. In real life, always practice safe sex. Emily’s New Life was originally published on www.disciplineanddesire.com by Barrie Abalard, writing as Belle. This novella is a sequel to the story, “Corporate Malfeasance,” which appears in Barrie’s book, The Future of Spanking.

Image Credit I took the photo myself while visiting Alaska. The cabin is the public use one we rented at Fielding Lake State Recreation Site (near Delta Junction, Alaska), a beautiful, beautiful place. If you visit Alaska, you can rent the cabin, too—and I highly recommend that you do!

Introduction Early September It had been five years since Emily Anniki Grayson had received her paddling under the Corporate Malfeasance Act. Although the corporation started by her family, Confederated Amalgamated, had closed down, she’d been busy establishing a new company with her then-husband, the ex-security guard Jack Gibbs, who had shown her kindness at her public paddling. She stood, whispering, “Goodbye, love,” before she cast a dozen white roses on top of his grave. She’d married Jack after a whirlwind courtship, only to have him struck down by a freakish wind shear while piloting his single-engine plane. The turbulence had slammed his plane into the runway, demolishing it—and him. Though she had continued running the corporation since then, she never failed to visit his grave each day with a dozen white roses. Their business, Loving Touches, Inc., provided counseling services for couples who had tried traditional marriage therapy, but found it wanting. Loving Touches also sold items useful to couples who wanted to experiment with marital discipline. She, with her husband’s help, had personally tested every single item on her bare bottom. After Jack’s death, Emily had continued running the company that helped other couples while her own heart had cried for her lost love. Now, two years later, she’d decided to try to move on. She

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needed a love partner, a husband, someone to spank her when she felt lost and uncertain. As the leader of the Grayson family company, she’d never felt lost or uncertain before. Doubts and dark days had arisen, though, when she’d been betrayed by her then-fiancé, her lawyer, and members of Confederated Amalgamated’s board. Though she’d enjoyed the revenge of watching every single one of them receive the severe spanking she’d suffered through, administered under the Securities and Exchange Commission’s Corporate Malfeasance Act, she hadn’t the heart to return to work as ConAm’s CEO. Consequently, the company had gone into a decline and eventual bankruptcy. The fact was, she’d been so distraught by the betrayal of those around her that the only thing she could face was a clean break and a new company. Under Jack’s love and care, her lack of assurance in herself had faded, and the new Emily, more assured but also more humble, had blossomed. After his death, though, she felt like an empty husk. She ran the business and took as much interest in it as she always did, but she knew that she often simply went through the motions. Her fall from grace in the corporate world, despite her eventual vindication and clearing of the Grayson name, had instilled doubt in her soul. Jack’s sudden death had only deepened her wounds. Tired of working and grieving, she’d arranged to sell Loving Touches to a private investor. Now, Emily was setting out on a new adventure. She climbed back into her four-by-four, taking one last look at Jack’s grave before turning the SUV west— to Alaska.

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Chapter One Late September Emily gritted her teeth. She’d learned to change a tire in preparation for her new Spartan life, but the balky jack wasn’t cooperating. She swore, kicking the flat tire. Why she’d decided to move to Alaska with winter almost here had to rank as one of her more stupid decisions. Something cold and wet touched her cheek. She looked skyward. Snow. Oh, God, no. Snow wasn’t exactly unheard of this time of year in Alaska’s interior. But now she was stuck on the Richardson Highway, in the wide swath of nothing between the Tok Cutoff and Delta Junction. She was still many miles from Fielding Lake State Park, where she’d arranged to stay the night—the tiny cabin had looked cute on the Internet. She looked up at the snow falling in earnest. She was still a long way from the nearest town— Paxson—and that wasn’t much more than a wide spot in the road. She didn’t bother to check her cell phone—it was useless here. Not that there was any 911 to call. For a moment, she thought fondly of her old New England farmhouse, the one she’d rented out to some well-to-do high tech people. She thought about the fall foliage colors, and the smells of a wood-burning stove and hot, mulled cider. This was what I wanted—to get away from everyone and everything, in the middle of nowhere.

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“I’ve sure got a lot of freakin’ nowhere right now,” she muttered to herself, opening the SUV’s passenger side door. Snow now sticking to her down jacket and hood, she pored over the Alaska Atlas & Gazetteer, trying to pinpoint where she was. She’d passed a place called Sourdough some miles back, but she hadn’t seen much in the way of houses and people. She hadn’t noticed a road of any kind, other than the one she was on. She knew that setting out on foot was the dumbest thing she could do. She was better off waiting inside the vehicle, running the engine now and then to stay warm while wrapped in her Mylar survival blanket, the better to retain body heat. In fact, she was probably better off driving on the flat tire. Yes, she’d ruin the entire wheel by doing so over a distance, but buying a new wheel, even a whole new SUV, beat freezing to death. She loaded the spare and jack back into the SUV. Then she crept along the Richardson Highway with her hazard lights blinking, praying she’d find some place where she could take shelter. After a couple of hours, Emily was still in the middle of nowhere. The snow had grown thick on the road, and she had to admit that she was a little scared. Hell, she was a lot scared. Having grown up in New England, she knew snow and cold, knew that the combination could be deadly. She loved snow, loved to ski, loved to snowshoe and hike. She loved winter, and Alaska had a lot of winter. But had she surrendered to a fantasy Alaska? The reality of freezing to death here had never entered her mind—until today. She crawled along, one eye scanning a page in the Gazetteer. She was trying to figure out how much farther Paxson was when she saw the oncoming headlights, dimmed by the swirl of snow. Desperate to make the driver of the other vehicle help her, she flicked her high beams off and on repeatedly.

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She could tell now that the vehicle was a pickup, and an old one at that. It slowed, and she prayed a silent thanks that she’d found help. A sudden, city-borne fear hit her when she saw the solitary male climb out. Would he hurt her? How could she trust a stranger while she was all alone in a storm? How can I not trust him? I’ll die out here without help. Emily shoved her uncapped can of pepper spray into a pocket and hoped for the best. ______________ Dan “Bear” Collins had met some dumbass lower-48 visitors in his time, but this woman driving alone in an Alaskan storm scored near the top of his private “more money than brains” list. Her brand new luxury SUV, Patagonia parka, and fancy boots definitely put her in the “money” category. As for “brains,” that question was answered by the fact that she wore jeans. Didn’t she know that heavy cotton like denim was her worst enemy in a cold, wet environment? She needed synthetic fabrics or wool to stay alive should she get wet. And in Alaska, you always got wet sooner or later. Still, he knew he’d help her. That was the way it was up north—the person you rescue today could be the person who rescues your own ass tomorrow. But if she were his, he’d blister her little behind for taking to the road in jeans. Such poor planning could be fatal. He shook off memories of walloping Dana’s bare bottom and her loud squalling, his handprints an angry, deep pink against her pale skin. “Looks like you need a little help,” he said. The woman doesn’t even know how to change a flat tire. This idiot has no winter survival skills worth mentioning—that much is clear. He stepped closer, only to be undone by her beauty. Her looks were born of privilege and

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money, to be sure, but still… He tore his gaze away from her Irish-green eyes and sensuous lips. He couldn’t see much of her body, but he was certain that the denim encased a round, firm butt. God, but he wanted to spank her till she wailed, wanted to see that pretty mouth pout in a tearstreaked face, wanted that mouth on his own… and on his most male of parts. Jesus. I need to keep those kinds of thoughts out of my mind. “You could say that.” “Huh?” he said. “I said, you could say that I indeed need some help.” She stuck her hand out as if they were meeting over a boardroom table. “I’m Emily Grayson-Gibbs, and I actually do know how to change a tire. I couldn’t get the jack to work, that’s all.” “Dan Collins, but most people call me Bear.” When he shook her hand, the firmness of her grip surprised him. “I can see why.” She lowered her eyelashes, fluttering them briefly. I can’t believe she’s actually flirting with me during a raging snowstorm, the temperature no more than fifteen. She really does deserve a spanking. He squatted by the tire, frowning at the damaged wheel. “How long you been driving on the flat?” “Probably twenty miles. I haven’t gone above ten miles per hour for the last two hours.” She opened the back of the SUV. “I’ll get the jack. Thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t happened along.” “That jack’s no good to you now. Your wheel’s too bent to change the tire,” he said, indicating with a wave that the jack should stay put. “You can leave your truck up the road at the Paxson landing strip.”

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He thought he heard a whimper, but he didn’t fully notice her fear until he saw the white area surrounding her pressed-together lips. “Something wrong?” “I—I don’t fly,” she said. What kind of phobic fool comes to Alaska, where the best way—sometimes the only way—to get around is by plane? “Don’t worry,” Bear said. “Even I’m not crazy enough to fly in this weather. Besides, my cabin’s not far. We can hunker down there.” ______________ He’s enormous. No wonder folks call him Bear. Emily blinked at the sight of the mountain man striding to his pickup. Big men. tall, large-boned and muscular, had always turned her knees weak with desire. Jack had been big, with hands to match. She recalled how it felt when one of those big, tough hands connected with her bare bottom. After twenty or so hand spanks from her beloved, she’d be crying—and so hot for him, her inner core would ache. Now, despite the cold and snow, she felt her face glow with heat, and imagined the stinging burn this man could raise on her backside with his hand. Her butt actually tingled from her fantasy. “Hey,” he shouted, his head sticking out of the pickup’s window. “You coming or not?” The mild scolding tone in his voice produced a longing she hadn’t experienced since Jack’s accident. She jumped back into her SUV, making sure she cinched her seat belt before following Bear Collins. In less than twenty minutes, they’d reached the landing strip’s parking area. She picked up her purse, and was debating what else to take with her, when he materialized at her window.

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“Come on,” he growled, sounding more than a little bear-like. “Don’t bother with any foo-foo stuff. Just bring your warmest clothing that’s not denim.” “What’s wrong with denim?” she asked. “Wet denim is the worst thing to wear, survivalwise,” he said, his open gaze as straightforward as a rifle’s shot. “Oh,” she said. How did I ever miss that important fact? He must think I’m a complete idiot. Even though I’m not. I used to run a corporation, for God’s sake. “Got any wool pants and synthetic-fabric underwear?” The mountain man smiled. “And I’m not talking from Victoria’s Secret. I mean long johns.” She glanced around the considerable mound of stuff in her SUV. “I’m supposed to leave everything else here?” “Don’t worry. No one will steal from you. For one thing, it’s Alaska, and this time of year, it’s mostly natives around here. Natives take care of each other. For another, no one will steal your stuff if I do this.” He pulled a grease pencil from a pocket. “Grab your winter gear and go climb in my truck. We’ve got to make tracks before the snow gets too deep to drive through.” Emily walked against the wind, sighing with relief once she’d scrambled inside his truck. When she looked at her vehicle, she could see him sitting in the driver’s seat, printing on the inside of her windshield, “BEAR.” Once he’d returned to his truck, she said, “You write backwards well.” He grinned at her, saying, “I’m a man of many talents.” I’ll just bet you are. She felt her face flush when she considered some of his likely intimate talents. Twisting her head to look out the passenger-side window and thus keep her expression hidden from his prying

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eyes, she said, “So, how far is it, anyway, to your place? You said it was a cabin?” He goosed the gas a little, and the pickup fishtailed as they turned onto the Denali Highway. “About thirty-three miles, right on Glacier Lake. I don’t suppose you know where that is?” She shook her head, keeping her face averted. Bear had awakened a hunger she hadn’t felt since Jack, and she didn’t want him to see it in her expression. “Well, it’s a pretty area. We do have to walk the last three miles, though.” When she whipped her head around, he laughed. “I have an ATV and a snowmobile. We don’t really have to walk, not in this storm. But we’re lucky that this highway’s still open. They close the Denali from October to May. Then I have to fly in and out.” “Where do you land?” she asked. “On the lake. My plane’s equipped for land, water, and ice landings. Hey, why don’t you fly? Alaska is beautiful from the air—” “I’m sure it is,” she said, crossing her arms. If he has any sense, he’ll drop the subject. He did, and he did. Quiet reigned for a few miles, until her curiosity got the better of her. “Are you a native? What do you do?” “What do you mean, what do I do? I live. I really live. Not like those fools who chase success in the lower 48.” “So,” she said dryly, “were you born with enough money to scorn those who work for it, or did you originally chase success yourself to earn your stash of cash?” “Touché,” he said. “I was born and raised in Boston. My parents had enough money to send me to business school—Harvard—and after that, I was supposed to head for Wall Street. The summer after I earned my M.B.A., I decided to come up here—I’d always wanted to see Alaska. That summer, I

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learned to fly. September came, and I didn’t want to leave. I’d decided to start an air taxi business, so I worked just long enough on Wall Street to save the money I needed to buy a used airplane. I made a profit my first year and every year since. I have a nice, new plane now, a comfortable home and a rustic cabin, and one hell of a good time working. I can’t imagine doing anything else, or living anywhere else. So,” he said, “what’s your story?” Still keeping her face averted, she said, “It’s not very interesting.” “People who say that usually are more interesting than most.” He pulled off the road, next to a four-wheeled vehicle that looked a little like a kid’s toy, and a sleek red machine that Santa would have loved. “Guess we’ll have to use the snowmobile today. Usually I store the ATV out at my cabin, but today’s snowstorm caught me by surprise.” “You just leave it here?” Emily couldn’t get over the casual way he treated belongings, both his and hers. “Sure. Who’s going to steal it? No one around here. Though when the tourists flood the state, I do chain it to a tree.” He opened the driver’s side door. “Let’s get going. I don’t know about you, but I’m cold and hungry and looking forward to a drink by the fire.” He packed her few belongings, then handed her a safety helmet. “Once I start the engine, climb on behind me and hang on tight.” She did as he told her to, her arms barely reaching around his massive torso. But when she felt the vibrations, with her arms and legs hugging him from behind, heat flooded her groin. She lay her head against his strong back while they traveled through the woods, her mouth cottony from the lust this man aroused in her. ______________

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Bear groaned when her thighs gripped his hips, imagining how it would feel to have her legs wrapped around him while he was on top of her. He’d been fully erect since she’d climbed on behind him. He imagined that he could feel heat from her loins on his lower back. Whoa! He swerved to avoid a tree. He’d better keep his mind on the path before him. Not that he minded when her arms tightened around his body, the way they did when he dodged the tree. Still, he slowed a bit. An accident would be foolish, and one thing that Bear Collins was emphatically not, was foolish. Refusing to play the fool lost me Dana. Maybe I should this time. That is, if I want to get into another woman’s pants before I turn ninety. They’d reached his cabin, his snug, comfortable, lonely cabin. He’d enjoy hosting such a pretty visitor, even if he did need to keep his hands off her. He wasn’t the kind of man who rushed into things. Thank God I have two rooms. I only wish the rooms were separated by a door. A lockable door. He shut off the motor. “Here we are,” he said, not knowing what else to say other than, may I spank your cute little buns, ma’am, before I ravish you? She looked him directly in the eye. “Thank you for letting me spend the night. I had the Fielding Lake cabin reserved, but I think your home will be more comfortable.” He picked up his gear. “I suspect this snow will be a big one, so you might not have gotten back out once you drove in. The Parks people don’t plow the access road.” “Oh,” she said, and he could tell, even in the dusky light, that she was kicking herself mentally. He revised his opinion of her. She wasn’t more money than brains. She admitted when she’d made a mistake, at least to herself.

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“You must think I’m an idiot,” she said once they’d trooped inside. He had his back to her, stoking the fire in his wood stove. “Idiocy can take your life in Alaska. But you’re no more of an idiot than any other visitor I’ve met, and believe me, you’re much less of one than most of the fools that come up here.” An odd noise made him turn around. “What was that?” “That was my stomach,” she said. “Not to impose or anything, but I sure could use some dinner. I have something—” She made a face. “Never mind. All my food is back at the landing strip, in my SUV.” He arched an eyebrow and said, “Why didn’t you bring it with you?” just to see what she’d do. She rewarded him with an impassioned, “You said ‘bring your warmest clothing that’s not denim’. You didn’t say a damn thing about food.” He laughed under her glare. “Calm down. I’m teasing you, that’s all. I have plenty of food, if you don’t mind no-meat chili over rice. I’m fresh out of meat—deer season doesn’t begin for a few more days. I could try scaring up a rabbit, or catching a fish or two, but doing so would seriously delay dinner.” She shook her head. “Going without meat is fine by me. I’ve never been one to eat a lot of it. If you don’t count fish, I’ve become almost vegetarian over the years. That’s probably heresy up here.” He moved to the kitchen area, pulling down cans of beans-only chili and the rice from the shelf. “Not at all. I do have some blueberries left over from the recent season. I make a mean blueberry grunt, if you’d like dessert.” “Grunt? What the hell’s a grunt?” “Basically berries and sugar baked with biscuit dough on top. Tasty, if you like blueberries.” “Sounds good to me. Hey, where’s your, um,” she said, her voice trailing off.

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“You mean the facilities? This is my winter cabin, so you’re limited to either the potty behind that wall,” he said, pointing to an area at the other end of the cabin, “or you can use the outhouse. It’s your choice.” “Is the outhouse far?” “Nope. Turn right and go about fifty feet. You’ll see it.” He watched her leave, her straight back indicating she was determined to make the best of it. ______________ Emily found the outhouse. Now all she had to do was muster up the courage to drop her pants and sit on a surface she was certain would feel shockingly cold. It would feel almost good, if she’d been spanked recently. She thought about how much she’d enjoy it if Bear took down her pants and let her have it. You don’t do one-night stands. Oh, why the heck not? New life, new rules. Maybe. I don’t know anything right now except that I need to pee. She sighed and lowered her pants, wincing when her skin touched the frigid plastic seat. No doubt an outhouse was all she’d have had at Fielding Lake, so it wasn’t as if she were missing a night of luxury. She pulled up her pants and opened the door before she zipped them, only to see something she’d never wanted to see close up: a bear. A black bear.

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Chapter Two

Emily froze, not sure what to do. The cabin wasn’t far. Maybe she could make it back. She edged out of the privy, her heart in her throat. The bear, who looked to be about thirty feet away, stood on its hind legs and snuffled, scaring her so badly, she was grateful she’d already peed. Jesus Christ, I’m outta here! She screamed more loudly than she had ever screamed in her life and took off for the cabin. Before she’d gone ten feet, Bear—Bear Collins, that is—was standing outside of the cabin, a doublebarreled shotgun in his hands. “Stop running!” he yelled as he shot over the bear’s head. Ignoring his order, she reached his side seconds later, right as he fired again. She turned and saw the bear running away, feeling sweat on her brow despite the weather. “Jeez, Bear, thanks—” Bear had grabbed her by the upper arm and hustled her inside the cabin. It took her a moment to realize he was furious. He sat in the nearest armless chair, pulling her across his lap. He had her jeans and panties down in a flash because she’d opened the outhouse door before she zipped up. With both her wrists caught behind her, he walloped the center of her bare sit-down area with his toughened palm. “Don’t you know better than to run from a bear?” he yelled, smacking her again dead-center. “Bears can run faster than you can. When you meet a bear, you make a lot of noise and wave your

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arms. Or you stay perfectly still till they go away. You never, ever run! Oh, hell, I’ve got to make sure you remember this lesson,” he said, and she heard the familiar sounds of a belt being unbuckled and pulled through loops. “What are you doing? Stop it, stop it!” she shouted at him. “You have no right to spank me, you son of a bitch! OW!” she bellowed as the thick leather stung her naked bottom. “If I’d known what you were going to do, I would have accompanied you to the outhouse. Remember this well—do not ever, ever run from a bear. If you do, they’ll chase and attack you because, in their minds, running turns you into prey.” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! sounded, as loud as rifle shots, and Emily squirmed in desperation. Her behind hadn’t been blistered like this since, since… Since Jack. Memories of Jack, and the fierce burning in her backside, prompted tears while Bear continued to scold her. “Emily, I know it hurts, but I want you to learn this lesson. I don’t want to read about your death by bear misadventure in the Fairbanks Daily News Miner. The only way I know to make an impression on you is to impress my belt repeatedly on your bare butt.” Emily wailed her way thought five more vicious whacks. Then it was over. “I don’t think I can sit for dinner,” she sobbed. “My bottom’s on fire.” “Well, you’ll have to, because I don’t pamper a woman with a sore butt when it’s her own damned fault.” He set her on her feet, facing away from him. “Pull up your pants, and get ready to eat chili. And get that pout off your face.” ______________ Now I’m the idiot. Bear knew he’d been wrong to spank Emily. He’d be lucky if she didn’t press assault charges.

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And it wouldn’t be hard to convince a jury of bad intent. He had her out here, alone, and he’d taken advantage of her. That’s how they’d see it. They wouldn’t see a worried man—worried that a woman he liked would get mauled by a bear. How he’d come to care so much about Emilyhyphenated-last-name in the past couple of hours, he had no idea. He watched her as she gingerly stroked her bottom, still sniffling. He’d left a couple of welts on her, that was for sure, and she was exploring each one, her fingers tracing their outlines almost lovingly. God, she liked it. Dana had done the same thing, had taken her time, running her fingers over the outlines of any welts he’d created—and he’d always made a point to create a few. Later, in bed, he’d licked those sore little ridges before he dropped his tongue lower, Dana on her tummy, legs spread wide. When he first kissed her down there, she’d tremble just like the ground did during a mild earthquake. He wondered whether Emily would enjoy having her welts licked as a prelude to more intimate tonguing. He sat, enjoying the view as she shucked off her jeans and panties. She produced the occasional sniffle, but was otherwise quiet. The bright red of her sitting area contrasted nicely with the paleness of the surrounding skin. He watched her don her thermals, enjoying the sight of her pulling them up and out once the leggings reached her spanked areas. She adjusted them, clearly careful to keep from irritating her sore bottom. Then, she groaned. “You all right?” he asked. “Long johns have wool in them. I forgot.” Her voice filled with sulkiness. “They irritate my butt, no thanks to you.” Her hands vanished inside the back of the thermals, and he knew she was attempting to soothe her wounded backside.

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“Well,” he said, “put on some pants, and sit at the table. That is, if you want some food.” While she donned a pair of woolly slacks, he served dinner. Remembering he’d never put his belt back on, he was about to do so—until he noticed that she was staring at it. “Maybe I’ll just leave this handy,” he said. “In case I need it again.” She muttered words that were mostly of the four-letter variety. When he said, “What did you say?” she replied, “Oh, nothing, really, nothing,” and her palms flew to her sitting area. He hid his smile, even though he was certain that she was enjoying the game. ______________ Emily sat uncomfortably for the first time in two years. She wiggled and winced while eating her chili over rice, the woolly underwear a torment. Still, she had to stay warm. Besides, she knew from experience that tight, stiff denim was no more comfortable on a sore bottom than wool was. “You’re not going to have me arrested, are you?” he said. She snapped her head up. “What?” “I said, you’re not going to press charges against me for spanking you, are you?” He actually looks worried. She smiled. “I’m considering it. Though you might be able to talk me out of it if you rubbed my welts with snow after dinner.” She felt a quiver between her legs. I’m horny. He’s horny, if that bulge in his pants is any indication. It’s just a one-night stand. I haven’t had sex in two years. Why not? “I’d be happy to rub your welts with anything you’d like,” he said. They met, kissing across the table, her hands under his shirt, his hands in her pants.

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“How about I…” he whispered something in her ear that made her nipples bud tightly. She nodded. After he pushed the meal out of the way, he bent her over the table and took down her slacks and thermals. Then, he spread her legs. Emily keened as his tongue explored. Then, he slapped each cheek, hard, reigniting the fires in her bottom. She moaned to feel the delicious sting of a wellspanked bottom, and moaned louder when his tongue returned to exploring between her nether lips. A few moments later, she gasped, her body shuddering in a longed-for climax. Then, the sensation of Bear filling her in an area that hadn’t been filled in much, much too long started a second orgasm. The two of them howled together. Later, much later, they slept. Emily awakened before seven, needing to go to the bathroom. After the previous night’s encounter with the bear, she wanted company for the hike. She turned over in bed, only to find Bear staring at her in the pre-dawn light. “Good morning,” she said, hesitating a moment before continuing. “I could use some company for a trip to the outhouse.” “You might want to dress,” he said. “I suspect it’s in the single digits out there.” With that, he got out of bed, pulling on clothing. She could see goose bumps on him—the wood stove had gone out overnight. “Brr. How do you stand getting dressed when it’s so cold in here?” she asked, reaching out to snag as much clothing as she could from the floor before getting dressed under the down comforter. He shrugged. “You get used to it.” After loading his shotgun, he said, “I’m going out to use it myself. Before you come out of the cabin, make sure you don’t see any bears.” “Except you, of course,” she said, trying to tease back the intimacy of the night before. However, he

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said nothing except, “See you in a few,” before shutting the cabin’s door behind him. ______________ He walked to the outhouse, scanning for wildlife, but didn’t see anything bigger than a squirrel. He was trying not to think about the woman in his cabin, but without luck. I never rush into things. Except for last night, that is. What the hell do I do now? Dump her at her vehicle, say it’s been fun, and wave bye-bye? Afterwards, he waited by the privy, lost in his thoughts. When he saw Emily stick her head out the cabin’s door, he couldn’t help smiling. She was cute as the dickens, not to mention dynamite in bed. No law says I have to consider last night a onenighter. “You’re safe,” he called to her, but she was already scurrying toward him. She slammed the outhouse door, and Bear took the hint, moving a discreet distance away. When she reappeared, she said, “What do you do for a shower at your winter cabin?” “No shower, I’m afraid, but I do have a holding tank that will heat water once I build a fire. I have a large washtub for the hot water, if you want to take a quick bath. Usually I just sponge-bathe when I’m out here. I have a house somewhere else.” They walked to the cabin together, their breath fogging the air. “Where’s that?” “I have a modern place down near Talkeetna— indoor plumbing and all. I don’t know if you noticed, but I do have electricity at the cabin, courtesy of a small generator. I don’t use it much, though, unless I have guests.” He grinned. “Running water for things like showers and toilets is a little harder to come by because pipes freeze so easily, though you must have noticed the purification system I have for drinking water.”

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“Where’s the water come from?” she asked as they continued their conversation indoors while he built a fire. “The lake. I do what I can to keep those pipes open. When I first bought this place, I got tired really fast of hauling drinking water on the ATV and snowmobile. For foods that need to be cold, I use Mother Nature. My bear safe—” “What’s a bear safe?” “A bear-proof container. I use one for stuff that needs to be cold, which isn’t much. I eat a lot of canned food and dried beans out here. Since I never got around to the blueberry grunt last night, how’d you like blueberry pancakes for breakfast?” He sat back on his heels, blowing on the coals to encourage them to catch. “After we’ve eaten, there’ll be hot water for Madame’s bath.” She didn’t respond to his question, or his smile. Instead, she walked around the cabin, silently exploring every nook and cranny. Maybe she’s not much of a morning person. Best to leave her alone. He washed up in cold water before fetching the blueberries from the bear safe and making the batter. He oiled his well-used iron griddle, placing it on top of the wood stove, then set up the percolator, also on top of the stove. Within a few minutes, the aromas of pancakes and fresh coffee were making his mouth water. “Ready for breakfast?” He caught her glance, and she nodded, moving toward the table. He put last night’s dishes in the sink, replacing the dirty ones with plates of steaming pancakes and mugs of coffee. “Sorry, no butter, but I have some maple syrup, the real thing from Vermont. You like the dark stuff, the Grade B?” He liked the way her face brightened at the mention of maple syrup. “I love the stuff, the darker, the better.”

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He placed a large container with a spigot on the table. “I buy a three-gallon size that doesn’t need to be refrigerated, and do all my cooking with maple syrup instead of sugar. I guess that’s the New Englander in me.” He tapped the container, filling a creamer with the dark, sticky treat. “You need more, just help yourself. I got powdered milk, if you want some for your coffee. I don’t use sugar and don’t stock it, like I said.” “Coffee’s fine black,” she said. He watched her drown her pancakes in the syrup, and didn’t take a bite of his own until he saw the look of pleasure on her face. “Mmm, these are delicious, and the syrup is excellent. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he busied himself with his pancakes, pausing now and then for a hearty slug of coffee. When she’d finished, he said, “Want more? I have batter left over. Plenty of coffee on the stove, too.” After she’d filled her cup—and his, too—she sat, holding her mug with two hands. “It’s really warm in here, now. Almost too warm.” “That’s a wood stove for you. They’re kind of hard to regulate,” he said. “You need anything else?” She gazed at him steadily for a moment, and then said, “Why’s a handsome guy like you alone?” He forced out a chuckle. “I could ask you a similar question.” She inclined her head to the right. “I asked first.” He stood, carrying dishes to the sink, where he bled off some hot water from the holding tank. If he was doing the dishes, he didn’t have to look her in the eye. “I was tight with a woman named Dana, once. Somehow, it all fell apart. Let’s just say we didn’t share the same values.” “But you spanked her, right?”

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He felt his face flush, something that rarely happened to him. “Yes. Our sex life was never the problem.” “So, what was the problem?” He turned to face her. “I’ve answered enough questions. Now you tell me about you.” It was her turn to avert her eyes. He stood at the sink, studying her, while she talked. He’d already figured out that she’d come from money, but never suspected she’d run a corporation—or that she’d been the first one punished under The Corporate Malfeasance Act. Her tale of how she turned the tables on those who betrayed her made him smile. The gal’s got guts, he thought. “I met Jack—” She halted, and Bear saw her chin quiver for a moment before she firmed her lips. “I met Jack, we started a new business together, based on spanking—” “Get out,” he said. “Spanking?” She waved her hand. “I sold it to someone else and decided to retire in Alaska. Then I met you. That brings us up to the present.” Her smile was wry. “What happened to Jack?” She suddenly dropped her gaze, and all he could see was the top of her head, a glistening, silky blonde waterfall of hair. “Jack died,” she choked out. “How?” he asked. She said, “Now I’m the one who’s answered enough questions. I should be on my way. I’ve caused you enough trouble.” “No trouble at all. What about your bath?” She drained her mug. “It can wait. Any ideas on how I can get the damaged wheel on my SUV replaced?” “I’ll run you to Delta Junction.” “That’s got to be more than a hundred miles!” she protested.

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He walked over to his parka. “About one hundred-twenty-five from here, actually. I’ll make sure you have a place to stay while you wait for your vehicle to be fixed. Shouldn’t be too hard to find you a room.” “I can’t ask you to do that,” she said. “You’re going to spend your whole day taking care of me. That can’t be why you came over to your winter cabin.” He shrugged on his coat. “I came out here for a few days’ break after a busy summer season. I didn’t have anything special planned. Of course, if you want to get to the Junction faster, we could fly.” She gathered up her things, saying only, “No.” “Then we’d better get a move on.” ______________ Emily sat in her motel room, ready to scream with boredom now that she’d enjoyed a long, hot bath and eaten her fill. When she and Bear had arrived at the Paxson landing strip, where her SUV was, he asked her once more to fly. She’d refused, so he’d hitched her SUV to his old V-8 truck and had towed it all the way to Delta Junction, where they’d left it at a shop Bear knew called Repair Junction. The owner, Dave, said he’d see what he could do. In the meantime, he had a couple of cars to rent, if she needed something to get around. So, she’d rented an ancient Dodge sedan, checked in at the motel both Bear and Dave recommended, and eaten the best halibut sandwich in her life at a nearby diner. Now, with nothing to do, she couldn’t seem to settle. Nothing to watch on the television—not that she had a lot of choices for channels in Delta Junction. She rubbed her still-tender bottom while thinking. What she wanted to do was continue her journey to Fairbanks, which she’d planned to use as her home base while looking for a property of her

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own. Money was no object, but she was learning that flying was—a lot of places for sale were fly-in only at least part of the year. And, with the beat-up sedan, she couldn’t explore any place off-road. She wanted to see Fielding Lake, eighty miles south, but if the Parks Service didn’t plow the access road, no way she was getting in there without four-wheel drive. She shut off the television and paced. Maybe she’d go up to Fairbanks, anyway, and stay there a few days. She could talk to some real estate agents and literally get the lay of the land. Although money wasn’t a problem, she didn’t like to spend it frivolously. That fact alone was keeping her from selling the SUV and buying something else. That, and the fact that she hadn’t established residence anywhere yet. Outside, the sun was shining, though low in the sky. The Richardson Highway had been reasonably clear. Fairbanks was less than two hours away, so why not? Emily donned her outerwear and opened the motel room’s door, only to run right into Bear. She sucked in a breath, surprised, and he backed up. “Hey, sorry,” he said. “I stayed in town to run a few errands, and thought I’d check on you. Are you settled in?” His deep brown eyes seemed to bore into her green ones. “Um, yes,” she said, edging away. Her body was crying out for the man, but a new relationship wasn’t part of her plans. She thought about how the bath’s hot water had stung her sore bottom, and she wanted to grab his coat collar and drag him into the room behind her. She let her gaze drop to the heavy leather belt around his middle, and remembered how aroused his tongue had made her. She licked her lips, suddenly hungry for his kiss. “Actually, I was heading for Fairbanks. Thought I’d talk with a few agents about finding a property

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of my own. So you don’t need to worry about me. I have plenty to occupy my time.” He slouched against the wall, towering over her, triggering an ache deep in her loins. “I’ve lived here a number of years. Why not let me go along? I could keep you from making a big mistake. The agents don’t necessarily have your interests uppermost in their minds.” “Uh, don’t you have work you need to do, or something?” She forced herself to move towards the decrepit Dodge. He followed. “Told you, I took a few days off. No work scheduled. I have a satellite phone, in case of emergencies.” She blinked. She hadn’t thought about his delivery service as being emergency-driven. “What kind of emergencies?” “Usually medical,” he said. “You know, delivering medication or airlifting someone. Doesn’t happen very often, but it does happen. Now, how about Fairbanks? I know some great places to eat and stay. Two rooms, of course. If you want,” he added, his eyelids drooping a little, turning his gaze into a come-hither look. “Yes. Two rooms,” she said, talking herself into it. “I insist on that.” “Then what are we waiting for? Dave will need days to find another wheel for you. This way, you can get a jump on finding a place to buy before winter settles in for good. Or were you planning to live in hotels until May?” His grin annoyed her, mostly because he was right. She hadn’t planned very well at all, had she? You could easily buy a home and move in regardless of the season in most of New England, but Alaska was a whole different story. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll call Dave— “No need to,” he said, taking out his satellite phone. “Hey, Dave, it’s Bear. Yeah, it’s hangin’ fine. Listen, Miss—what was your name again?” he said.

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Why am I getting all excited about a man who doesn’t even remember my name! “Grayson-Gibbs,” she said, frost in each word. “Miss Grayson-Gibbs is going to Fairbanks with me. She’s looking to buy a home.” He listened for a moment, then covered the phone’s mouthpiece. “Dave says his brother’s looking to sell.” “Have you seen the place?” she asked. He nodded. “What do you think? He shook his head. “Tell Dave my heart’s set on Fairbanks,” she said, unable to keep from smiling. Maybe Bear really could help her in ways she hadn’t considered. It never hurt to have an insider around when you wanted to make a big purchase. “Sorry, Dave,” he said. “Call this number when her SUV’s fixed, all right?” He disconnected, saying, “Let’s go, Emily.”

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Chapter Three

Bear tried not to look at her cute butt as she climbed into his pickup. How he wanted to reach out and swat it, sort of friendly-like. He remembered how she’d wriggled on his lap last night, her bottom glowing with heat, and felt himself grow hard. Very hard. Forget it. She said she’d insist on two rooms, remember? What’s she want with an old mountain man like you, anyway? She’s got money, looks and brains. She could have anyone she wants. He climbed in. Once they were on the highway, he said nothing, turning his satellite radio to his favorite station. “This okay with you?” he said. She laughed. “I’m more of a Norah Jones than a George Jones fan, but that’s all right. Your truck, your rules.” “My rules, huh?” He decided to take a chance. “What if I said my rules included stopping every fifty miles to blister your butt?” “What if I said I wouldn’t mind?” she answered, lowering her lashes. “Then what the hell was all that back there about insisting on two rooms?” he said, letting his tone deepen into a growl. “Maybe I don’t want you to think I’m a slut. I’m not sure what I want,” she snapped. “So sue me.” “Maybe I don’t let pretty girls sass me without paying the price.” He scanned the road for a turnoff. Finding one, he pulled off the road and set the emergency brake. “Come here, you,” he said,

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unlatching her seat belt. She protested, but not very loudly, when he hauled her across his lap. Then he realized just how padded her bottom would be, covered in layers to keep her warm. She was giggling, and he wanted her to take this spanking a bit more seriously. It had to hurt, at least a little. He glanced around the back seat, his gaze lighting on his ancient, thick yardstick. He grabbed it, weighing it approvingly in his hand. It had some heft, and she’d feel it when it landed, even through long underwear and wool pants. He adjusted the driver’s seat back to give them more room. He whipped it down across her sitting area, rewarded by her squeak of surprise. “Didn’t think a spanking over all those layers of clothes could sting, did you?” he asked, whacking her a second time. Emily jerked, exclaiming, “Oh! What the hell are you using? YOW!” she wailed after he landed a third whack. The yardstick made hardly any sound, applied over her clothing as it was, but apparently he was making an impression, so to speak, on her backside. He put his shoulder into two more strokes, and she straightened out, howling, “Stop, stop! Ooo!” “Going to sass me again?” he said, walloping her sitting area hard. She shook her head, the blonde, silky strands not captured under her hat flying about. “No, nooo!” He smacked her once more, and was rewarded with a loud sniffle. “All right,” he said, tossing the piece of wood into the back seat, “get back in your seat.” “Oh,” she moaned, rubbing her sitting area, “it’s going to hurt to sit.” “That’s right. And if you don’t obey me this instant, I’m going to give you five more—” She threw herself back into her seat, bouncing up a little when her buttocks pressed against it.

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“Ow, ow,” she complained, taking off one glove before shoving her hand down the back of her pants. “Man, that smarts. What were you using?” “Get your hand out of your pants and put your seat belt on this instant. Then, and only then, take a look in the back seat.” Pulling his seat back in place, he carefully pulled out onto the road. After she obeyed, she looked. “Oh, God,” she said. “That thing’s awful. I can’t imagine taking it on the bare.” “Then you’d better behave from now on,” he said, unable to resist a chuckle when she replied, “Yes, sir.” His fierce hard-on was almost worth it, spanking her the way he had. He began to whistle to Roger Miller’s “King of the Road”. “Mr. Bear, sir?” she said, a purr in her voice. “I’ve reconsidered the separate rooms. But only if you promise not to use that stick on my bare backside.” “I’ll do no such thing.” “Puh-leeze?” “No,” he said, not paying much attention to her. He had an eighteen-wheeler bearing down on his rear bumper, and— “Jesus Christ!” He swerved when her ungloved hand grasped his erection. How had she managed to get his zipper down without his noticing? “You trying to make us have a wreck?” he yelled as the truck passed them, honking his air horn. “I thought every guy had a fantasy about a woman taking care of him while he was driving,” she said, crossing her arms in a huff. “I didn’t even get to use my mouth. I was only trying to have a little fun.” “Oh,” he said through clenched teeth, “you’ll get to use your mouth, all right.” They were almost to Eielson Air Force Base. If he was going to teach her a lesson, he had to do it now. No time to find a private road.

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He jerked the pickup onto the shoulder, his blinkers flashing, and jumped out of the truck. After throwing open her door, he dragged her out and stood her up facing the truck. Then, he bent her over the seat. His fingers found the button and zipper, and he tore down her pants and long johns in a flash. But he’d forgotten to get the yardstick, and by now she was struggling, knowing what was coming. He saw the red marks the ruler had left, and sighed. He didn’t want to use the belt again and risk bruises. Then again, she’d acted really stupidly. “Your choice,” he rasped out. “The belt now, or the hand now and the yardstick later, both on a bare butt. What’ll it be?” ______________ Despite the heat in her seat and loins, she was freezing, her lower half exposed to the wind from her waist to her knees. Struggling would do no good—Bear was going to spank her, and how. Just the way Jack used to do. She pushed the thought aside. Before she could answer Bear, he said, “You took too long, so I’m deciding for you. The hand now and the yardstick later it’ll be. You’re going to be awfully sorry you didn’t speak up.” His palm, his incredibly huge, hard palm, spanked her bottom and thighs soundly, until not one square inch was left untouched. By then, she was sobbing hard and dancing her feet. She’d forgotten about the cold—all she could feel was an intense burning. Her bottom felt scorched. He dragged up her panties, scratchy thermal underwear, and wool pants, swatting her one last time over her clothing. “Get in. Once we’re in Fairbanks, I’ll find us a place to stay. The next order of business will be applying my yardstick to your butt. After you dry your tears, we’ll make the round of real estate agents.”

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She climbed back in, still sobbing, easing her bottom down. After Bear had taken his seat but before he put the truck into first gear, she choked out, “I’m so sorry. I was only trying to have some fun and make you feel good. Honest.” “Oh, hell,” she heard him grumble as he pulled her close. “Apology accepted, sweetie. I know you meant well. But don’t ever do that again, okay? It’s just not safe.” He kissed her cheek, then her mouth. Before long, both of them were clutching at each other, but he pulled away first. “Take care of that later, all right?” he said. Emily was pleased that he was breathing hard. “After I give you a few with the yardstick,” he added, but he took her hand and held it most of the way to Fairbanks. She smiled, despite the uncomfortable burning in her bottom. Bear located a decent motel, and five minutes after they’d checked in, he had her completely naked from the waist down and bent over the foot of the bed. “Keep your palms pressed against the bed, or I’ll give you more,” he said, and she bit her lower lip. The yardstick was going to hurt like a bitch. “Only five. You can take five, can’t you?” “Yes, sir,” she said, and closed her eyes. The sound the flying wood made was similar to that of a cane. She’d become well-acquainted with the cane as Jack’s wife. The explosion of sting she felt after the yardstick landed wasn’t quite as bad as the cane, but it wasn’t good. Her knees sagged, but he warned, “Stand up straight, Em, and take your medicine.” WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! sounded. She’d barely had time to burst into tears before the five strokes were done. To her dismay, the deep, burning throb continued to build—just the way the strokes of a cane did. “Shh, shh,” he said, taking her in his arms as she wept loudly. “It’s over, done with, and

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forgotten. You’re completely forgiven,” he murmured before placing his mouth over hers. Still sobbing, she groaned as his fingers rushed under her top layers, caressing her breasts. He pushed up her clothing, including her bra, and clamped his mouth on first one nipple, then the other, until both were stiffly puckered. She felt perspiration break out on her forehead when his mouth found her delta. But she pushed him away, saying, “I think I should finish what I tried to start in the truck.” Magically, they both became naked, or so it seemed. She knelt before him, taking him in her mouth, conscious of his panting and the regular throb of the stripes on her bottom. She made love to him with her mouth as she hadn’t done to anyone other than Jack in years, rewarded when he muttered, “Enough,” placing her on the bed. His tongue worked its way between her nether lips while two fingers stroked her inside until she felt faint. He entered her, and his movements inflamed her further until she was crying out, meeting his hips with hers, the thrills radiating down to her toes. Before long, he also climaxed, and they lay together, fatigued. “That was incredible,” she moaned. “Just incredible. My behind’s also incredibly sore.” She felt his fingers trace the welts, and hissed her breath out. “Incredibly sore,” she repeated. He grinned down at her. “Aw c’mon, you loved it.” “I did not,” she said. “It hurt like hell. It still does.” “Yeah, but you’re tough,” he said, raising his head to look at the clock. “Only three-thirty. Let’s call some agents and find out what’s for sale.” He punctuated his words with a spank on each cheek. Fifteen minutes later, they were back in his truck, Emily trying hard to sit still and not make the welts hurt worse as they bounced over ruts in the

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road. She didn’t like being spanked, but she sure liked the way her body responded to it, and the way a spanking made her feel inside. She glanced over at Bear, and felt heat flush her down below. She’d do it with him again, right now if they could. Damn, she was fully in lust with this guy. “Ow,” she complained when he hit an especially deep rut. “It hurts when that happens.” “I know,” he said, grinning. “I know.” She punched his upper arm. “You’re mean.” “And you love it. Well, this must be it,” he said. “Doesn’t look too bad from the outside.” Emily tried to keep her face from showing that her bottom was still on fire as she got out of the truck, and greeted the agent with a smile. ______________ Three days later, she was back at the motel in Delta Junction, depressed. She’d had no luck finding the place she pictured in her dreams, and Bear had left her here—but not before he’d treated her to his hard palm—and his tongue—once more. The memory made her smile. She’d picked up a cold sandwich for dinner, but first she wanted to run a hot bath and drink some wine. In Fairbanks, she’d insisted they stop at a liquor store that looked like it sold stuff a little classier than Thunderbird and Boone’s Farm. She ran the water, and then poured some chardonnay into one of the motel-supplied plastic cups. But before she stepped into the tub, she caught a glance of her bottom in the mirror. Still red and still sore. And Bear was right, she loved it. Wincing as her tender flesh hit the hot water, she hissed out her breath once she’d settled her bottom on the unforgiving porcelain. A little wine will dull the soreness. By the time the phone rang, she’d finished her third glass, and the bath water had turned cold.

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Grabbing a towel, she ran, dripping and chilled. “Hello?” “I may have found you a place.” Bear. “Well, okay,” she said. “Tell me about it.” “It’s too late to go out there tonight—it’s already sunset,” he said, static on his satellite connection obscuring his next words. “What?” “I said, the only down side is that we’d be neighbors.” That’s a down side? her heart said, and that was when Emily knew she was falling for Bear. Hell. I don’t want to be in love. Not again. “You still there?” he asked. “Yes. Tell me more.” “How about I give you the whole scoop tomorrow, after I pick you up for breakfast? I’ve hoisted a few with a friend who lives near here, and I’m going to spend the night,” he said. “It’s a long way back to the cabin, and I don’t want to be stopped for DUI.” “You’re still in Delta Junction?” she asked, eyeing the clock. He’d dropped her off two hours ago. “You could spend the night with me, you know.” “I know. Listen, I’ll stay at my friend’s place, and come pick you up for breakfast. Is eight okay?” She’d barely replaced the phone when it rang again. “Your SUV’s all fixed,” Dave at Repair Junction said. “I can wait here a little longer, if you want to come get it tonight.” She couldn’t wait to get her own vehicle back, even though she hadn’t needed the Dodge, not really, after spending most of her time with Bear. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be over,” she said. She didn’t fully realize how tipsy she was until she started driving. At least the roads are clear of ice and snow, she thought. And she’d practically

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lectured Bear on the phone about drinking and driving. What a hypocrite she was. After she settled up with Dave, she said, “Is there a place nearby where I can get a cup of coffee, and something to eat? I’ve had a little too much wine to chance driving back to the motel.” “Sure thing. The Wolf’s Tooth is two blocks east of here. It’s not too cold tonight--you could walk it easy,” Dave said, wiping his hands on a rag. So she walked the two blocks, head down against the wind. When she pulled open the heavy pine door, she realized that the Wolf’s Tooth was mostly a bar. Still, she saw a menu hanging above the bar. She could get a burger and coffee here. Then she saw Bear, with a tall Native woman perched on a bar stool next to him. She was laughing up at him, her blue-black hair long, straight and shiny, and he was grinning back at her. They looked uncomfortably like a couple. No wonder he refused to spend the night with me tonight, saying he’d stay at his “friend’s” place. She certainly does look friendly. Pissed, Emily headed for an open booth in the back and sat down hard, forgetting about her bottom. She yelped. Deep brown eyes swung her way. Bear was staring straight at her. No, Bear was heading right for her, one of his huge hands tugging the woman along after him. Jesus, he’s not going to introduce her to me, is he? “Em, what are you doing here?” “My SUV was ready, so I decided to get a bite. Not that it’s any of your business.” He bent over, sniffing. “What are you doing?” she snapped. “You had most of that wine on an empty stomach, then drove. Realized you needed to sober up, so came here for food and coffee. How am I doing so far?” He glared at her, bringing his lips close to her ear to whisper, “Driving while

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intoxicated—we’ll take care of that tomorrow, with the yardstick. You think you’re sore now.” “Like hell we will,” she said. “Plan to introduce me to your woman?” He looked dumbstruck. “You know, the person attached to one of your hands?” she snarled. The woman burst out laughing. “She thinks we’re together, Bear.” The woman removed her hand from his, and stuck it out for Emily to shake. “I’m Mary. Mary Blackfoot. Bear and I go way back.” Emily sniffed, “I’ll just bet you do.” “Be polite,” Bear growled at her, giving her The Look. She knew The Look well, after spending three days with him. Spanking always followed The Look unless she mended her ways. She reached out to take Mary’s hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m Emily Grayson-Gibbs, and I’ve moved to Alaska, though I don’t have a home, yet. How do you know Bear?” “When he first came up here, I was working in my parents’ store. I was only fifteen, but I knew way more about how to survive up here than he did. He was the dumbest white man I’d ever met,” Mary said. Bear’s face had turned red all the way to the roots of his hair. “Mary,” he snarled, just as a wounded bear would, but she simply laughed again. “You don’t scare me, Bear. I have a husband who’d eat you for breakfast if you even thought about spanking me.” “Jesus,” Emily said, “did you tell her—? Oh, crap.” She dropped her face into her hands. “God, I could die now.” “Hey, I know Bear spanked Dana, but I didn’t know he spanked you—till now,” Mary said, her eyes twinkling. “Not my thing, as my husband John likes to say. Not his, either, but we don’t mind if it’s yours. Bear, you want to change your mind about

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staying with us tonight? I’ll certainly understand if you’d rather stay with her.” “Yeah, Bear,” Emily said. “Want to stay with me?” Bear just glared at her. “Slide over,” Mary said, nudging Emily. She did so, unable to keep from wincing. Mary stifled a chuckle before saying, “Bear, go get our drinks. We’re going to keep your new girlfriend company while she sobers up.” After he walked away, Emily said, “The way you order him around is amusing. I don’t think I could get away with that.” “He’s not so tough,” Mary said. “You do know why his nickname is Bear, don’t you?” “Um, considering how large he is, I thought it was obvious.” “There’s another reason. He’s just a bunch of pudding under that gruff exterior. His full nickname is, ‘Teddy Bear’. But you might not want to call him that. He gets mad enough when I do, and he doesn’t get to spank me for it,” Mary said, grinning. “I’m glad the two of you met. You’re practically all he’s talked about tonight.” “That so?” Emily waved to the waitress. Her stomach was starting to hurt, she was so hungry. “After Dana left, I thought he’d go crazy,” Mary said. “Dana didn’t have her head screwed on right. Some idiot from Seattle convinced her that Bear wasn’t allowing her to ‘be who she was meant to be,’ or some garbage like that. Bear’s the last person who would have stopped Dana from pursuing her dreams. After all, he moved up here to pursue his.” “So, what happened?” Emily found herself intensely curious about Bear’s ex, and was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy, too. “Dana said she ‘needed to be free.’ Said he had to stop spanking her —as if that was the problem.” Mary snorted. “Dana and Bear always had a hot

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connection, and spanking was part of it. Then the Seattle jerk told Dana that allowing Bear to spank her meant that he was running her life. I’ve known the man for eighteen years. Bear wasn’t running Dana’s life—he’s live and let live. The spanking was mostly for the sex, the way I understood it. I mean, it wasn’t a heavy dominance and submission scene, you know?” Emily was grateful that the waitress showed up at that moment, because she really didn’t want to talk about kinky sex with someone she’d just met. She ordered a cheeseburger, coffee, and a cinnamon roll, too, based on Mary’s recommendation of the pastry. After the waitress walked away, Emily said, “Dana left him?” The Native woman nodded. “Three years ago, with the Seattle bozo. Bear’s had a fling or two since then, but you’re the first one he seems to have grown attached to. I’m glad you’re not just a tourist, that you’re going to stick around for a while.” Emily opened her mouth to say she didn’t know for a fact that she was going to stick around, but decided against it. “So, Bear tells me you used to run a corporation. You must be at least forty, then.” “Forty-one.” The coffee arrived, and Emily sipped it. “Your point?” “Hey, don’t get all prickly. You sure don’t look forty. I only meant that you have some wisdom and maturity, unlike little brat Dana. She was ten years younger than Bear in real years, probably twenty years younger in behavior and attitude.” “How old is he?” Emily asked. “And what’s keeping him? We sat down here ages ago.” “He’s thirty-nine. You don’t mind that, do you? That he’s two years younger than you? I assure you, Bear doesn’t care.” Emily smiled and shook her head.

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Mary peered over the crowd. “He’s headed our way now. Marc Genrette was bending his ear for a while. Marc often hires Bear as a courier.” She frowned. “I wish he didn’t do jobs for Genrette.” “Why?” Emily said while taking the cheeseburger from the waitress. She dug into it as if she hadn’t eaten for days—and it tasted great. Mary waved her hand as if she were shooing away a fly. “Forget I said anything. It’s just rumors I’ve heard about the man and what kind of business he runs. I shouldn’t repeat gossip that could well be wrong.” “Finally,” Bear said, handing Mary her beer and placing his on the table. “I thought Marc would never shut up. He wants me to run some stuff to Anchorage tomorrow. You mind, Emily, if we don’t go see the property for sale till after I get back? In fact, maybe you could meet me there. I’ll be no later than one.” “I’ll be there, Bear,” she said. “Assuming the road’s open.” “You’ll make it in your SUV,” he said. “The park people haven’t closed the road down—yet.”

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Chapter Four

Emily checked her watch: one-thirty-three. Bear had said one, and he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would be fashionably late to a commitment. He’s flying. Anything could have happened. Remember Jack? Remember— Emily put her fingers in her ears as if someone real were speaking to her, not a voice in her head. “I will not worry,” she said aloud. “Bear is fine. Sometimes business takes longer than you thought it would.” She wished she had bought a satellite phone this morning in Delta Junction. If she had, he could have called her and told her he was running behind schedule. She would be sure to make a sat phone her next purchase. As she walked around the cabin for the tenth time, she liked what she saw. The place had been easy to find, a few yards off the Denali Highway, maybe five miles east of Bear’s place. He’d told her that electricity was available, if she wanted to pay to have a line run in to this cabin. He himself was considering running the wires two miles in from the highway, to his own place. If he did that, he said, he’d consider living in his cabin more and the Talkeetna place less. She liked the idea of Bear spending more time near her. She liked it a lot. Though it would probably mean more spankings for her. She grinned at the thought. Five miles away wasn’t much for a determined man like Bear. He might drop by several

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times a week to tan her bottom, and Emily would like that a lot, too. She’d also like the sex that would inevitably follow. She stopped walking to peer inside. This cabin was more like a real house, or what she considered a real house. It was supposed to have an indoor toilet and a shower stall—no bathtub, but she wouldn’t mind spending whatever it took to have one put in. Her biggest concern was the plumbing— he’d warned her that it would be a major job to insulate the pipes sufficiently to keep them from freezing. It sometimes hit fifty below in the dead of winter. Hell, she was sitting on several million dollars from selling her business. She didn’t care what it cost, she would have hot and cold running water, no matter what, in any place she called home. She walked back to the road, gratified to see Bear’s old pickup bouncing along. When he stopped, she ran to the driver’s side door, pointing at her watch and scowling. “Hey, you’re late, buddy. I’m freezing my goddamned ass off.” “Just keep talking, Em. I’ll add a few strokes on for cussing and fussing to the ones you’re going to get today for driving under the influence last night.” He leaned inside the truck, pulling out the yardstick. “We’re going inside to see the place—I have keys. And, after we do, your ass will hardly be freezing.” The two of them tromped to the door. Bear threw it open, and whistled. “This place looks pretty good inside. I was afraid it would be trashed.” “Why?” she asked, walking the empty space. So far, she’d seen a kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, all in an open plan and running into each other, with a huge wood stove in the middle. The bath was behind a closed door. “It’s been vacant a couple of months. The owner left the mortgage holder with an obligation, an obligation he’d very much like to be rid of.”

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She braced herself before opening the bathroom door, but except for dirt, it was fine. “Who’s the owner?” “You’re looking at him. Or, you were, till the bathroom grabbed your attention.” She turned to stare. “You? Why didn’t you mention this place before we spent three days in Fairbanks?” “One, you said you wanted to live near Fairbanks. Two, I wasn’t certain I wanted you for a neighbor,” he said. “I mean, if what we’d had was a one-night stand, it might get uncomfortable to have you just down the road.” Stung at first by his honesty, she considered what he’d said before opening her mouth. “Thanks for telling me the truth. I promise not to turn into a crazy woman when we break up.” “When we break up?” he said. “I’d rather think of it as ‘if’.” He grabbed her around the middle and walked her to the kitchen area. “This looks like a good place for you to drop your pants and take your lickin’. Put your hands on the counter and bend over.” She undid her pants and pushed everything to her knees, then took the position. He slapped each cheek hard while saying, “I think five with the yardstick ought to do it. You’re going to count, Em, and you’ll earn extra if you mess the count up.” “Oh, God,” she whined. “That yardstick of yours really, really hurts. Can’t you just use your hand?” He said nothing, so the next thing she heard was the stick moving though the air, making a muted thudding sound as it landed, burning the area where her bottom ended and her thighs began. “Owww, one,” she said, wincing. WHUP! “Two.” Emily’s forehead was damp from the stress and pain of the throbbing lines across her sitting area. WHUP! “Three,” she wailed, tears sprouting behind her eyes.

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“How cold’s your ass now?” Bear asked, running his fingers across her stinging butt. “Not very,” she choked out. WHUP! “Shit, four!” she sobbed. “You’ll get one more, for cussing. Be good,” he said, and when the stick hit her on the thighs, she cried, “Five, oh, God.” If I hadn’t cussed, I’d be done now. Damn it all! The last stroke made her jump six inches into the air, it hurt so much. “Six!” she yelled. “Bear, please, please, please.” His fingers explored between her legs, and she moaned. “All over now, and all’s forgiven.” She heard the familiar sound of a zipper, sighing when he took her. She’d grown to love having a quickie with Bear after he spanked her. Her face was still wet with tears when she climaxed, Bear thrusting hard inside her, shouting out his pleasure. “Wow,” she murmured after a minute or two. “I think I’m addicted to your stick. Both your sticks,” she added. “Naughty, naughty,” he said, leaning over to kiss the nape of her neck. “I have to admit, I love spanking you, and my, um, personal stick enjoys you as much as you enjoy it.” After they’d dressed, with Emily groaning when her long underwear rubbed her sore spots, he said, “Well, what do you think? Of the cabin, I mean.” “I think I love—it,” she stammered. I almost said I love him. I can’t do that. He has to say it first, so he won’t think I’m a nutcase. Besides, how could I know I love a man after less than a week? He pulled her close. When her breathing returned to normal after their scorching-hot kiss, he said, “Take all the time you want to decide. Buying a home is a major decision. I don’t want to rush you.”

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“Tell me, why were you so late? Did you—” she said, swallowing the fear rising in her throat, “— have any trouble?” “A slight problem. Nothing serious, and nothing I want to talk about.” “Bear,” she said, “please. I have to know what happened.” He sighed. “Okay, a couple of my gauges were acting up. But I’m experienced enough to know what’s a major problem and what’s a minor one. After I checked things out, I determined that I could make it back here fine. And I did. End of discussion.” “No,” she said, “it’s not the end of the discussion. If we’re going to be involved with each other, I need to know whether you take foolhardy risks.” “Hey,” he said, stepping back from her. “I know you don’t like to fly. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing so. If you don’t like that, perhaps you shouldn’t buy this place.” He walked out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. ______________ Late November Emily hummed to herself as she put the finishing touches on Thanksgiving dinner: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and brownies. Supposedly, Bear was bringing a roasted wild duck and canned yams. None of it was fancy food, but it should taste fine. She loved her cabin, now that it had running water, and propane to heat the water and fuel her stove. Running in electricity hadn’t been completed before the ground froze. She’d have to wait until spring thaw for them to put in the remaining poles. In the meantime, she ran a generator for the times when she absolutely had to have electricity. For light, she used kerosene lamps, and for heat, her

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wood stoves—she’d installed a second one in the bedroom and bath area for her comfort. If only she’d had as much success with Bear as she’d had with her new home. Emily pushed her hair out of her face while leaning against the kitchen counter. After their fight, she’d bought the place outright with cash, and he’d been grateful for it. But the subject of his air taxi business remained a sore one. Neither of them had brought up the topic since the day they’d fought about it, the day she first saw the cabin she was now living in. That had also been the last day he’d spanked her, and the last day they’d made love. She sighed. What she’d had with Bear had been sizzling hot, but it had burned out fast. As much as she wanted to be with him, she couldn’t bear the thought of getting emotionally involved with yet another man who might die in a plane crash. At least, they’d remained friends, though not what she’d call close friends. He had his life, and she had hers, and occasionally they helped each other, as neighbors often do. But that was as far as it went. Besides, she was forty-one, and that was old enough to be through with love. Right? She threw on her parka, hat, and mittens to step outside long enough to fetch the wine she’d left to chill. At fifteen below, turning wine cold didn’t take long. In fact, she had to be careful not to leave it too long, so it wouldn’t freeze and burst the bottle. She was grateful that Bear did some supply runs for her, for her mail, her wine, her tanks of propane, the kerosene for her lamps, and occasional groceries. When the weather wasn’t bad, she could ride her top-of-the-line snowmobile as far as the gate that barred traffic on the Denali Highway, then drive her SUV on the Richardson Highway to get her supplies. Like the locals, she’d gotten used to leaving her snowmobile and SUV wherever it was most practical to do so. However, she was resigned

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to the fact that, a lot of the winter, she’d have to depend on the kindness of Bear, all because she wouldn’t fly. Of course, he didn’t do things for her out of charity—she paid him well to run the errands for her. And she did so because there was no damned way she was setting foot inside any airplane ever again. Well, maybe a huge commercial flight, but nothing with fewer than four engines. Four jet engines. After opening the wine, she had nothing left to do—dinner was ready. So she carried a kerosene lamp to her comfy overstuffed armchair, turned the light up high, and picked up the book she was reading. When she’d worked long hours in corporate America, she’d never had time to read for fun. She considered reading a novel, just because she wanted to, one of her keenest pleasures in retirement. She ordered them online by the dozen whenever she could get to the local Internet cafe, and donated the books to local libraries when she was through with them. She’d just become absorbed in a John Sandford suspense when she heard a snowmobile pull up to her door. When he knocked, she yelled, “Come on in, Bear.” A mountain of a man threw open the door, bringing snow and the cold wind with him. “Where should I put the food?” She went to him, saying, “Put the dishes on the counter,” wanting to check whether they were still warm, even though Bear had wrapped everything in heat-holding insulation. But when she approached him, she heard a boom, then felt the earth under her feet roll. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to throw her against him. He gripped her tightly, saying, “Earthquake.” The tremors shook her in more ways than one, and as she gazed up into Bear’s eyes, her mouth open from the shock of it, the hunger in his eyes grabbed something inside her. She reached up,

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pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him hard. With a groan, he kissed back, his tongue tangling with hers. When they broke apart, she said, “Was that really an earthquake?” He responded, “Are you talking about the earth moving before we kissed, or how it moved when we kissed?” They fell on each other, tearing off clothing until skin touched skin. Bear slipped his arms under her and carried her to the bed, where he lay her down gently before taking his place next to her. They kissed again, and his fingers explored her breasts, his thumbs skimming over her nipples. Emily hadn’t felt this sexually needy since the first time they’d made love, and her hands went immediately to his erection, stroking it. She wanted him inside her, and soon. His hand slid down her torso, his fingers exploring. She opened her legs, whispering, “Yes, Bear, yes,” until he positioned himself on top of her. When he entered her, she gasped, so starved for love that she thought she might climax during his first movements. But he rolled his hips slowly, forcing her to relax into the maddening pleasure radiating from her inner core. He slid a hand between them to touch her while they moved as one, and hot sensation filled her entire body. She cried out as she threw her legs around his waist and pounded against him, driving him deeper inside her, her head spinning while her pulse thudded in her ears. Bear called out as well, moving against her in ways that made her want more, even though she was well-satisfied. They lay there together, him still inside her and up on his elbows. They kissed and began moving together again until his erection fully returned. Then they paused for long moments, their satisfaction taking a while to happen, but when it did, each felt as if their entire body was alive and tingling with waves of thrills that took forever to ebb.

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A while later, Bear said, “I’ve ruined our dinner. Everything must be stone cold by now.” Emily placed his hand on her breast, saying, “The right things stayed nice and hot.” Then they dressed, reheated the food, and enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner. When she passed him a plate, he took it from her, then grasped her hand, kissing the palm. “I’m very thankful for you,” he said. Emily’s heart thumped harder when she said, “I’m pretty thankful for you, too.” After dinner, she tried to interest Bear in a brownie, but he refused, brandishing a bottle of Scotch. “A hot toddy with this is all I want.” “You’re going to ruin good Scotch by putting sugar and water in it?” she said, sticking her tongue out. He laughed. “Em, this stuff isn’t good Scotch. Now, where’s your honey? I brought a lemon. We also need boiling-hot water. Got any nutmeg or cinnamon?” As Bear fixed the toddies, she said, “Did my chest of drawers come in? Someone told me in town yesterday that Genrette had received my furniture.” “That’s right,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I forgot all about it. Let me go home and come back with your piece. Then we’ll have the hot drinks.” “That’s fine, but in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy a brownie,” she said with a smile. A short while later, Bear lugged the chest of drawers into Emily’s cabin, using a dolly. “God, this is heavy,” she said, attempting to position it exactly where she wanted it. “But it’s all real wood, and worth every penny.” “If you’re finished fussing with the furniture now, let’s have those toddies.” She let him mix the drinks while she stood and admired the chest of drawers’ dark wood and exotic look. “Thank you, Bear, for bringing it to me,” she said, running her fingers over the smooth finish.

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“I think it looks damned stupid in a cabin, but it’s not my home,” he grumbled. “That’s right. It’s not,” she said, arching her eyebrows. “I’m about to pour the boiling water into the whiskey, but it sounds as if someone is mouthing off.” Bear couldn’t quite pull off gruffness or hide his smile. “Maybe that someone needs a spanking,” she said while toeing the floor. “I expect so, considering she hasn’t had one in nearly two months.” He sat in one of the armless kitchen chairs. “Get on over here, Em. Got to make sure your butt doesn’t get frostb it.” She sauntered to him, pretending nonchalance as she loosened her pants. Once she stood beside him, he pushed her pants and underwear down to her knees, then draped her across his lap. “I think a hand spanking will be enough to remind you who’s boss around here,” he said. She closed her eyes, waiting for the first stinging swat. When it came, she couldn’t help jumping. It hurt more than she remembered. “Ow!” she said, wiggling on his lap. “You spank so hard, Bear.” “I spank hard because you’ve got a hard head. I have to pound your bottom to make an impression at the other end.” SMACK! Emily sucked in air, only to exhale with a moan. Bear picked up the tempo, slapping each cheek several times in a row before changing to the other one. After a dozen swats, tears filled Emily’s eyes. Her bottom burned, but she was grateful for the emotional release the spanking provided, grateful for the love and care she felt emanating from Bear. Still, by the time he’d finished, she’d taken twenty hard licks, and was scissoring her legs and sobbing. “Bear, stop, please!” she cried.

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“All right, I guess that’ll do. Be good tonight because I’m itching to use my belt on you.” He laid one final, thundering wallop on the center of her sit spot. Emily wailed, “Bearrr! Owww!” He lifted her, hugging her close while she pressed her sore bottom against his lap, and kissed her. “Now that I’ve warmed your bottom, time to warm our insides with the toddies.” Emily pulled up her clothing, taking care not to rub any of the wool against her stinging cheeks. She wiped tears from her face and smiled simultaneously. Having Bear back in her bed, having him discipline her, was the way her life should be. Though she still ached inside for her late husband, she knew Jack would understand that life goes on. She also imagined that he would approve of her choice of partners. Bear pulled two chairs together near one of the wood stoves. “Em, can I ask you something?” “Sure.” She placed one of her bed pillows on the chair’s seat before sitting, exhaling with a smile. “That pillow helps a lot.” “And if I were any sort of disciplinarian, I’d not allow that pillow,” he smiled. “But I’m feeling generous.” “What did you want to ask me?” Her curiosity was getting the better of her. “Why won’t you fly?” She sat back as if he’d slapped her face, but it was only memories of the burning crash that hurt her. “Any other question,” she choked out. “Anything but that.” Bear shook his head. “We broke up for nearly two months because of my job, which is to fly stuff around. I don’t want to break up again. I need to know why, Em. What happened? Or have you always been afraid to fly?”

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She swallowed hard before speaking. “My late husband died while piloting his single-engine plane. I witnessed the crash. I haven’t flown anywhere, for anything, since that day.” She felt her eyes fill. “I loved him so much, Bear,” she sobbed. “And he didn’t die because he was foolish or a bad pilot. It was wind shear—wind shear on a perfectly sunny day. I—” Howling now, she hid her face with her hands and cried so hard it made her stomach hurt. Bear gathered her in his arms, shushing her, stroking her hair. She wept as she hadn’t wept in two years. “He was so special, Bear,” she wailed. “He spanked me hard and loved me hard. We were planning a family when he—” She began sobbing again, unable to speak. “Oh, Em,” Bear murmured, hugging her tightly. “I never suspected the reason. I’m so sorry to have made you tell me. I feel like I hurt you. I never want to hurt you, ever.” She wept on his chest until she felt cried out, and he never stopped hugging her, not for one moment. When she finally raised her head to look at him, the caring in his gaze was almost more than she could stand. “I’m not sure I could live through losing another love to a plane crash,” she whispered. “I realize it’s your livelihood, and I’ve no right to ask you to give up something you’re passionate about. Just please, please promise me you won’t take any stupid risks. If you go that way, and it wasn’t your fault, it would be easier on me—after, you know.” “I never take stupid risks. Ever,” he said. “Promise me. Promise me that you won’t, ever.” He kissed the top of her head. “I promise. And you can take that promise to the bank. I never, ever go back on my word.” “I know, Bear,” she said. “I know. Thank you.” Her face drenched with tears, her mouth sought his. They kissed wildly, desperately, both needing

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the comfort of making love. Their passion arose from emotional and not sexual need, and as he peeled her clothing off, she began to weep once more, this time with gratitude that she’d found this man, that she’d found love twice in a lifetime. When he entered her, he said, “I love you, Em.” His confession restarted her grateful tears. “I love you, Bear.”

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Chapter Five

Bear did his best to sneak out early without disturbing Emily, who was curled up under several comforters. He did stoke the fire before he left, however—he wanted the place to be warm when she finally awoke. He looked back before leaving, and smiled. Somehow, they’d come together the way he’d hoped they would. And she’d not said a word when he told her he had a full day of flying on Friday, though he knew it was hard for her. He remembered her sobs when she confessed why she wouldn’t fly, and the lovemaking that followed. He shook himself mentally. He had to stop mooning and be at Marc Genrette’s place by seven. The holiday season had begun, so Marc needed him to fly furniture to buyers all over Alaska almost daily. He couldn’t understand what others saw in the pricey stuff, but apparently importing it was lucrative. Genrette paid him handsomely, had his own stable of planes, and drove a six-figure car. Bear shrugged, unable to comprehend those who felt compelled to acquire things. He made enough to have all he’d ever wanted, plus enough salted away against the day when he might not be able to work. He hoped that such a day was very far off, because he loved his job. Bear ran his pre-flight checks and took off in the dark, the horizon lacking even a glimmer of sun. The flight was short. Genrette had coffee waiting for him when Bear arrived just before seven. The thermometer read nineteen below zero. “Get in here and thaw out,” Marc said, “before I send you on your first errand. Good holiday?”

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“Just fine,” Bear replied, pouring himself a mug of coffee. “What’s today’s first job?” “I have furniture going to Juneau, Sitka, and Haines on your first flight. Then, on your second trip, you’ll head to the Cantwell airport with a couple of items. The buyer will meet you there to take possession of the furniture. If it weren’t winter, I could deliver by truck. Wish the damned Denali Highway wasn’t closed from October to May. It would make my life easier.” Marc sipped his coffee, and the two men were silent for a moment. Bear was biting into a cinnamon roll when Marc spoke again. “Say,” Marc said to Bear, “would you like to do a special job? Good money in it.” “What kind of job?” Bear watched Genrette over the rim of his mug, licking frosting off his lips. “I need you to fly to the Wales landing strip and pick up some large cargo. Everything will be in wooden crates too big for your plane. You can fly one of mine.” “Why don’t you go yourself?” Bear asked. “Hell, you know you’re a better pilot than I am. Besides, as the owner of this business, I need to stay here, not fly all over the damned state. Suppose a client tried to get in touch with me, and I was in friggin’ Wales, Alaska? No, I need a good pilot, and you’re the best there is. I’ll pay double what I usually do. You want the job?” Something about Marc’s casualness felt false, so Bear suspected that the job had some risk—what that risk was, he had no idea. “I’m pretty booked these days, Marc, and a trip to Wales and back would eat up two whole days, more if the weather doesn’t cooperate, which it often doesn’t this time of year.” “Bear, you’re the only one I trust for this job. I’ll pay triple, how’s that?” His radar was now on full alert. Marc was cheap—he wouldn’t pay triple to deliver furniture to

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the President. Something was definitely up. “Marc, you know I deliver medical supplies to Native settlements in the Bush1. I can’t afford to miss a delivery—those folks depend on me for their drugs, and if bad weather keeps me in Wales, I’ll miss deliveries. The money’s tempting, and I appreciate your asking me, but I’m going to have to refuse,” he said. “Can’t Densmore do it for you?” The other man stood, turning his back to Bear. “Dick moved to be closer to his grandkids in Seattle. He doesn’t work for me any more.” Alarms were clanging in Bear’s head, but he kept his face impassive. “Wish I could help you, but I’m phasing out cargo delivery in favor of medical supplies delivery.” He was lying, but he knew something was wrong. For one thing, Dick Densmore hadn’t said boo to Bear about moving to Seattle when the two men had a beer together at The Wolf’s Tooth last week. He hadn’t seen Densmore since, but he seriously doubted that the man, a lifelong Alaskan, had picked up and moved to Seattle without telling anyone. Bear stood. “I’d better get started loading the plane for the Juneau area run.” ______________ Emily woke in the dark. The lack of light during winter made it harder to get up, but this morning she didn’t mind. Rolling over to Bear’s side of the bed, she inhaled his scent. Memories of their lovemaking stirred her inside, and she could still see his face, tenderness writ large all over it. Her Jack had been a wonderful man—kind, honest, intelligent, true—and Bear exhibited the same

1

“The Bush” is the term used to describe Alaskan land that’s extremely thinly settled and isolated. Access to these communities is limited to air or sea (or perhaps dogsled in the winter). The vast majority of Alaska is Bush.

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sterling qualities. How lucky she was, to find such a man twice in a lifetime! She stoked the fire and started coffee. Once she had a mug of strong brew, she carried it and a lamp with her into the bathroom, where she drew water for a long, hot soak in the tub. The giant clawfooted monster had been installed by Bear, the original owner—she’d only had to add shower controls to make it perfect. But today, she had no desire to take a practical shower and rush through her bathing. The tub called to her. With a sigh, she immersed herself in the steaming water, knowing it would take away the soreness left behind by the energetic sex. The heat made her bottom sting—Bear had walloped her a second time before they made love for a long while—but she had no complaints. If only Bear didn’t fly for a living, he’d be the perfect man for her. She drank her coffee, not willing to let thoughts of disaster into her head. She needed to focus on the positive, and the positive was that the two of them were back together. After dressing and breakfast, Emily began unpacking the cardboard boxes she’d been using to store her clothing and linens. How she looked forward to using her new chest of drawers and jettisoning the cardboard. She removed the drawers to see the workmanship, pleased to discover that the piece was as well-made as she’d hoped. But when she removed the bottom drawer, it felt much heavier than the others. Perplexed, she turned it this way and that, seeking the reason it was so heavy, and heard clunking sounds. She studied the drawer, realizing that it had a false bottom. It took her a while to pry the covering board loose, but once she’d succeeded, she felt her throat tighten.

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She stared at a semi-automatic rifle, the kind of gun that belonged in the “assault weapons” category. She didn’t know guns well, but she knew that such a gun had to be illegal. She rocked the dresser back and forth. No more clunks. But when she studied it, she could see that the back also appeared false. Genrette—or someone else along the import trail for the dresser—was a gun-runner. Somehow, that person had missed removing the guns from the dresser. Such a person would surely realize before long that guns were missing, and they’d come for the dresser. That fact frightened her. She knew Bear would be up in the air by now. The best she could do was ring the FBO2 at Juneau International Airport and leave a message for him to contact her immediately. After calling on her satellite phone and stressing the urgency of her message to the person that answered in Juneau, Emily paced, unsure what to do next. She’d bought a shotgun to have some sort of defense against a marauding grizzly or black bear, but would she have the guts to use it against a stranger? Not only that, if the gun-runner came sniffing around, doubtless he’d be armed to the teeth. Plus, he wouldn’t want to leave any witnesses. She chilled at the thought. And when she considered her isolation, she became more and more unnerved. She fitted the false bottom back into the drawer holding the gun, and put all the drawers back. Then she loaded the shotgun and stuffed a box of shells in her parka, along with her satellite phone. After locking the door behind her, she considered where she should go while the wind whipped the snow 2

FBO stands for Fixed Base Operator. An FBO is a company that provides services to those who use the private airstrip area, as opposed to providing services for commercial passenger airlines.

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around. If she rode her snowmobile out to the Richardson Highway where her truck was parked, she might encounter the gun-runner coming the other way. If she rode it to Bear’s cabin, the gunrunner wouldn’t know to look for her there. Unless it was Genrette. He knew that she and Bear were neighbors, and had a history. He might come looking for her there. And the snowmobile would leave tracks. She had to take the chance that the criminal wouldn’t know about her and Bear, and that the howling wind would obliterate the snowmobile’s tracks by the time someone reached her place. She decided it was safer to hide at Bear’s cabin. She had a key. She fired up the machine and took off as fast as she dared, her heart thudding. Seventeen minutes later, she was searching for a place to hide her vehicle. Behind the woodshed would keep it out of sight, unless the person searched Bear’s property. If he did, all bets were off. She started to enter the cabin, then looked at the nearby food cache. Essentially a miniature cabin, the cache was a good fifteen feet off the ground, accessible only by a wooden ladder. Built to keep food safe from bears, it would provide a hiding place that the person might not think to look. Not only that, they’d be vulnerable climbing the ladder while she could hide inside, gun trained on them. She might be safest inside the cache. Unless hypothermia got her. But if I stay inside Bear’s cabin, I can’t risk a fire to stay warm because the smoke would alert anyone looking for me. So the hypothermia point is irrelevant—I’ll be cold no matter which hiding place I choose. She decided she had her best chance of hiding— and surviving—inside the food cache.

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She did some jumping jacks, then trotted around to raise some body heat. After she’d worked up a light sweat, she climbed the ladder, shutting the door behind her once she was inside. She didn’t have much room, what with all the supplies surrounding her, but at least she could sit up. She put her box of shotgun shells within reach, found a small chink in the door handy for peeping, and watched, the gun resting on her crossed legs. The satellite phone rang. “What’s going on?” Bear said. Hesitating to reveal what she’d discovered in her dresser over a mobile phone, she said, “I need you to come back here right away.” She could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Em, if this is a game you’re playing to, uh,” he lowered his voice, “get me back into bed, it won’t work. I have a long day ahead of me, and as much as I’d like to come back right now and make love, I can’t.” The sound of an approaching snowmobile made her tense. “Bear,” she whispered, “it’s no game. But I don’t want to give details over an open line. Just get back here as soon as you can. Trust me, it’s urgent. Hang on,” she said in a low voice, “someone’s here.” The snowmobile stopped, but she couldn’t tell whether the person was Genrette, or someone she didn’t know. Whoever they were, they were tall. The person tried the cabin door, giving up when they found it locked. Then they walked around the cabin, peeping into windows. When they came back to the front, they looked up—at the food cache. “Em, you still there?” Bear’s voice was filled with impatience. “Look, I gotta go.” She was afraid to speak, not even a whisper. She heard the static-ridden sound of no phone connection after Bear hung up. She realized she hadn’t pumped a shell into the chamber of the

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shotgun, and doing so now would give away her position. As the person started towards the cache, Emily decided that she’d pump the gun just before she fired. But she wasn’t willing to off someone—which she certainly would, using double-aught shot at point-blank range—until she was certain the person meant her harm. Whoever it was, they’d put one foot on the ladder. She swallowed hard and waited. ______________ Guilt twanged Bear over ending the phone call with Em, but his day was packed solid, and Genrette had him preoccupied. What kind of scam could he be running? And had anything happened to Dick Densmore? If illegal activity was going on, Bear wanted no part of it. As he executed his pre-flight checks so that he could hop over to Sitka, Bear decided that it was time for him to end his business relationship with Marc. He had plenty of money and never lacked for work. Besides, for a while, he’d been toying with the idea of doing nothing but medically-related flights. The money wasn’t as good, but perhaps it was time for him to give back something to the state he loved. Still, Emily preyed on his mind. With a sigh, he pulled out his satellite phone and called her. Otherwise, he’d think about her when he should be concentrating on flying and work. No answer. He turned off the phone, and prepared to taxi his plane. ______________ Emily, barely breathing, stared through the tiny slit between two boards at the person climbing the ladder.

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Then the person looked up, and recognition shot through her. Mary Blackfoot was climbing the ladder. Emily started to relax, until she heard a warning voice in her head: Mary could be involved. You don’t know for sure. Besides, why is she here, and why is she climbing the food cache ladder? But she’s an old friend of Bear’s, she argued silently with herself. Yes, the voice in her head said, but maybe Bear doesn’t know she’s involved with guns. Or maybe Bear’s involved, too. She shook her head. One thing she was certain of was that Bear was not a gun-runner. She doubted Mary was, but Emily admitted to herself that she didn’t know the woman as well as she knew Bear. The satellite phone beeped, and Emily jerked at the noise. Mary’s head snapped up. “Is someone in the cache?” she called out. Emily wasn’t about to use a weapon on Mary, so she figured she might as well reveal herself. “Yes,” she called, “it’s Emily.” She opened the door, and Mary smiled. “What the heck are you doing in Bear’s food cache? Did you run out of supplies? Are the two of you back together?” “One question at a time,” she said. “But first, let me climb down.” Mary descended the ladder so that Emily could join her on the ground, saying, “Let’s go inside and build a fire. The wind is terrible today.” Emily noticed she didn’t say a word about the shotgun she was carrying. “Look,” Emily said, not moving toward the cabin, “something’s going on. I’m not sure we should build a fire. I don’t know who to trust. I do know we shouldn’t stand here talking. Either we’ll get frostbitten, or we might have unexpected visitors.” She stared into Mary’s

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dark eyes. “Why are you here, and why were you climbing the ladder to the food cache?” Mary stared back. “I asked questions first. You answer first.” “I didn’t run out of supplies—I was hiding, in case someone is pursuing me. I don’t want to say any more than that. And yes, Bear and I are back together, but that fact has nothing to do with why I was hiding in his cache. Your turn.” She continued giving Mary the eye until the other woman spoke. “I came by to ask Bear something. And I wanted to see his cache.” Emily noticed Mary shifting her weight and moving one hand slightly, as if she was preparing to go for a weapon, probably a knife. Emily backed up to be out of slashing range, and swung the gun around until it was pointed at the other woman. “I’d rather you didn’t move right now because I still don’t understand why you’re here. Why didn’t you simply call Bear on the sat phone? What did you have to ask him that it required a personal appearance? And exactly what did you want to see inside his cache? I’m sure you’ve looked inside it a hundred times before.” Mary threw up her hands. “Oh, for God’s sake, my husband’s Christmas gift is up there, that’s why I was climbing the ladder. If you tell John, I’ll skin you alive. It’s supposed to be a huge surprise.” Emily felt her eyes narrow. “What gift? I didn’t see anything that looked like a gift.” “Bear saved me a couple of deer skins from deer he bagged earlier this year. I’ve been working on the skins here, to keep John from finding out. I’m making him a vest for Christmas. If I have enough skin left over, I’ll make a pair of slippers, too. John likes the old ways, so I wanted to give him something that reflects those ways. As for what I wanted to tell Bear, it wasn’t something I was willing to say on a sat phone. And it’s none of your business,” Mary said, her black eyes snapping fire.

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Emily began to feel a little silly, so she dropped the gun’s barrel, pointing the weapon at the ground. “I’m sorry. Chalk it up to my nerves. Right now, I don’t feel like I can trust anyone, except for Bear— and you.” “I want to hear about this, but my ass is freezing,” Mary said. “Come with me. John has a hunting shack near here, way off the road. It’s not much, but it does have a wood stove. We’ll build a fire there and talk more.” Emily, her face and fingers numb, agreed, and sat behind Mary on her snowmobile. In short order, the women arrived at the shack. Not long after that, a roaring fire was heating the small space. “This building’s so full of holes, the heat won’t do us much good,” Mary said, still feeding the fire, “but it’s better than being outside. I keep telling John that this shack’s going to fall down on top of him, but he just laughs. Now, pull up a stool and tell me what’s got you jumpy.” Emily, sitting on a rusty metal stool, huddled by the fire. “I bought some furniture from Thailand. It came with some extra things inside that are illegal as hell. I’m sure that, when the criminal notices the missing, um, stuff, they’ll come looking for my dresser. And me. That’s why I was hiding in the cache. I figure that person might need to, um, get rid of me, in order to keep the secret.” “It’s Marc Genrette, isn’t it?” Mary said. “I knew that bastard was up to no good. What’s this mysterious illegal ‘stuff?’” “Are you sure you want to know?” Emily said. “Because the knowledge would put you at risk.” Mary said nothing for a few moments, opening the stove to throw on another small branch she’d scavenged from the floor. “I was coming to tell Bear that John and I are having a baby. I haven’t told anyone else yet, so please don’t repeat it. But, seeing as how I’m going to be a mother, I don’t want to endanger my baby’s life. Forget I asked.”

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“Done.” Emily crossed her arms and hunched her back. Never had she felt so alone, not even in the dark days following Jack’s death. ______________ Bear had finished the Juneau-area deliveries. Now he was refueling at Haines. Once he finished, he thought again of Emily. For privacy, he walked away from the FBO area and called. This time, she answered her phone. “Em,” he said, “I apologize for hanging up on you earlier. I’ve been thinking about you ever since. Is anything wrong?” “Yes. How soon can you get back?” He hadn’t expected her to say yes. “I’m supposed to go back to Genrette’s place and load something I have to take to Cantwell. I can fly straight to you after that, if you want to meet me at—” “Don’t say where,” Emily said. “Someone might be listening.” “Jesus, stop the spooky stuff. You sound like the CIA.” “Bear,” she said, “do you know about a certain hunting cabin?” “Yeah, sure, you mean—“ “Don’t say it,” she urged in a quiet voice, and her quietness worried him more than if she’d been hysterical. “I’m sure you’re thinking of the one I am. How soon can you meet me there?” “You’ll freeze to death in that building,” he argued. “It’s got more holes in it than my oldest pair of socks.” “How soon?” she repeated. Bear considered his options, then said, “Four to five hours, and that’s if I skip the Cantwell trip.” The dismay in her voice was palpable. “Four to five hours!”

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“My top airspeed’s a little over one hundred fifty, and I shouldn’t fly the max that long—but I will, if you want me to.” ______________ Emily didn’t know what to say. She wanted Bear here as soon as possible, but she didn’t want him to do anything unsafe. Not now that they’d gotten back together. Especially not now. She shut her eyes, and the VCR in her mind replayed Jack’s fiery crash. No! She also didn’t want him to alert Genrette by canceling a job at the last minute. If he was involved, it would be too easy for him to figure out why. “Do the job,” she urged. “Then meet me where we stayed when we went on our road trip. You know the place I’m talking about?” “The cabin you mentioned first is a better idea,” he said. “It’s going to take me at least six hours, maybe seven. Will you be all right for that long?” Emily felt Mary tap her on the shoulder. With a piece of charcoaled wood, she wrote something on a piece of cardboard. Emily nodded. Mary threw the cardboard in the stove, and Emily watched it burn. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you then,” she said.

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Chapter Six “We need to go back and get your snowmobile,” Mary said. “Then we’ll both hang out at Kittredge’s fishing lodge up the highway. Nobody will be there but him, and he won’t mind if we stop in to warm our toes for a while. You can tell him that Bear needs to land there later—he has a strip. If Bear were trying to get to John’s hunting shack in a hurry, that’s where he’d land.” After extinguishing the fire in the stove, Emily climbed on the back of Mary’s snowmobile. The two women planned to get within a quarter-mile of Bear’s place. Mary would then walk the rest of the way while Emily hid. When Mary returned with Emily’s snowmobile, both would travel to the fishing lodge. Mary would call John, plead snowmobile breakdown, and wait for him to pick her up. Emily would wait at the lodge until she heard Bear’s plane, and then meet him at the landing strip. It seemed like a sensible plan. Emily prayed it was. She and Mary remained silent as they approached Bear’s cabin. Mary scouted the place, leaving Emily hiding in the woods. She’d protested that Mary shouldn’t take the chance, but the woman had countered that, if anyone was at Bear’s cabin, they had no reason to suspect her. Besides, she’d lived in the area all her life, Mary had argued, and was a damned sight better at scouting than Emily was. She’d pretend she owned the snowmobile Emily had parked behind the woodshed, and drive it back to where she was hiding.

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With a heavy heart, Emily agreed. Now she wanted to stamp her feet against the cold, but didn’t dare make a sound. After about fifteen minutes, she heard a snowmobile engine. Emily crouched behind a large rock, waiting. “Hey,” Mary called above the roar of the engine, “let’s go.” They swapped snowmobiles and headed for the lodge in the darkening afternoon. ______________ Shadows were lengthening as Bear brought the plane down at Genrette’s strip. He didn’t relish making another flight before he could go meet Emily, but he’d given his word that he’d run the furniture to Cantwell today. After blocking the aircraft’s wheels, he ambled to Marc’s office, exhibiting nonchalance he didn’t feel. Marc’s office was dark, and the door was locked. He looked in the windows. The entire hut appeared deserted. Then Bear checked the warehouse. That, too, was locked. Genrette’s vehicle was parked nearby, but Bear had no idea where the man was. He used his satellite phone to call both of Genrette’s numbers, his landline and his sat phone. Only a message answered. It was then that Bear saw the plane. Though it looked exactly like one of Genrette’s, the identifying number on the tail was one he’d never seen. Could Genrette have had a visitor? Or had he painted a false number on the tail in preparation for illegal activity? Bear assumed a semi-crouch as he sidled up to the plane, casting his gaze over the cockpit, but the afternoon’s light bounced off the glass. He’d have to walk right up to the plane and peer inside. Bear stopped, thinking. The apparent desertion of Genrette’s place during business hours, plus the

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unfamiliar tail number on the plane, spooked him. If Marc wasn’t here, he couldn’t fly any furniture to Cantwell. That suited him just fine. Emily’s problem was all he had on his mind. Bear filled the tank, ran through the pre-flight check quickly, and took off for the fishing lodge’s landing strip. ______________ The owner of the lodge, Chuck Kittredge, welcomed both Mary and Emily, insisting they have a bite while sitting by the fire. “I’ve got some venison stew,” he said. Mary had stopped protesting then, and had joined Em and Chuck in eating stew while sitting near the enormous wood stove. Afterwards, they’d all enjoyed fresh coffee and cake. Now, Emily stood alone, staring out the window that faced the landing strip. John had picked up Mary a while ago. Chuck, a strapping man of about sixty with bushy white eyebrows, had told her to stay put where it was warm, telling her she’d have plenty of time to reach the strip once she saw the lights of the plane. Emily didn’t expect Bear for at least another hour, but within five minutes she saw the lights of a plane. By the time she’d dressed for the cold, it was on the ground. Emily dashed from the lodge to the landing strip, pumping her legs as fast as they would go. When she reached the plane, Bear had already blocked the wheels. He gathered her in his arms and held her tight without speaking. Emily’s eyes stung with tears. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she gasped, out of breath from her run. “I’m so scared.” “Why don’t we go inside the lodge before you tell me what’s going on. It must be twenty below.” He kept one arm tightly wound around her waist as they retreated to the warmth of the lodge. “Good to see you,” Chuck said when he saw Bear. “Want some stew?”

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Emily, eager to tell Bear what was wrong after waiting several hours, said, “Bear and I need to talk first.” The smile left Bear’s face. “Yes, I’d like some stew. Thanks for offering some. But I need a moment alone with Emily, some place private, please.” Chuck nodded. “The heat’s turned off in the upstairs rooms, so it’s chilly, but you’re welcome to use one of them. I’ll heat you a bowl of stew and wait for you here. I have something I want to discuss. Here, take a lamp with you.” Bear grabbed her upper arm and marched her up the stairs to the room farthest from the kitchen. Emily could see her breath, it was so cold. After he shut the door, he said, “What you just did was incredibly rude. I don’t care how urgent the situation might be, the way you handled it was wrong.” He unbuckled his heavy leather belt. “Bend over the bed and rest your weight on your forearms.” “But, Bear—” “You want more than ten?” he growled. “No, sir,” she said, hastening to comply with his order, resting her forearms on the bed. Goose bumps appeared on her naked bottom from the chill, and she swallowed hard. The belt was going to hurt like hell. “I want you to count, Em. If you mess up, you’ll get more added on. Ready?” “Yes, sir.” The leather whistled through the air, slapping her bottom, the end of it biting one hip. “One,” she gasped. The next stroke landed fully on her thighs. “Two,” she said with a catch in her voice. The burning sting was awful. WHACK! “Three,” she choked out. “Why are you getting spanked, Emily?” Bear said just as the fourth blow landed.

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She cried, “Because I was rude. I’m sorry, Bear. Four.” WHACK! “You’ll need to apologize to Chuck once we go back downstairs.” “Yes, sir, five.” Emily gulped against the rising tide of her tears. “But you don’t understand—” WHACK! She sucked in her breath before sobbing, “Six.” Her bottom throbbed with painful heat. The goose bumps from the cold were long gone. Bear said, “No explaining right now,” as he landed number seven, which she counted. Sobbing, she stuttered out eight, nine, and ten as he whaled her hard. Once she reached ten, she collapsed on the bed, wailing, her hands thrown back to soothe the welts her fingers found. “I’m so sorry I was rude, I really am.” “You’re forgiven,” he said, gathering her in his arms. She cried on his chest while his hands gently rubbed her backside and thighs. “Now, we’re going downstairs, and you’re going to apologize. You’re going to keep your peace until Chuck has discussed with me whatever he wants to discuss. Then, and only then, you can tell me what’s on your mind.” Unable to help herself, she cried, “Bear, I found guns in my chest of drawers.” She felt his entire body go still as a stone. “Okay, that’s serious business, and I understand how you feel the need to tell me this instant after carrying the burden of the knowledge for hours. Still, Emily, we’ll discuss it later. It’s nighttime, and we can’t do anything about it. The FBI office won’t be open, and contacting them would be the next logical step. Actually, I’m not too surprised to learn this. I figured out Genrette was up to something strange. However, you disobeyed. You’re getting five more. Bend over the bed again.” “Oh, no, please no, I’m sorry!” she wailed, but she obeyed. The five strokes were quickly applied and raised an intolerable, deep burn in her sitting

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area. When he finished, he said, “Pull up your pants. We’re going downstairs.” Emily sobbed loudly, the throbbing of the welts intensely uncomfortable. However, she did as Bear asked her to, and once she was fully dressed, he kissed her forehead, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “I love you, Em, in all your impatience and need, and you’re forgiven. I’m dying to toss you down on that bed and make wild love to you, but we are guests here who haven’t been invited to stay the night. Be good, all right?” He bent down to whisper in her ear, “I’m so aroused right now it hurts. You’re going to pay for that later, Em.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose while he stroked her bottom. It helped ease the stinging. “Ready to go downstairs?” he asked. In the kitchen, she took her seat slowly, praying that Chuck wouldn’t notice anything odd about her behavior. If he found out she’d just been spanked, she’d die from embarrassment. She willed herself not to wiggle, her bottom burning like the fires of Hell, while the older man served Bear some stew. “Chuck,” she said, “I apologize for rudely interrupting you earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry.” As she said the words, the throb in her sitting area seemed to intensify, and she couldn’t help shifting her weight. Chuck said, “No offense taken, Emily,” and she thought she saw a knowing twinkle in his eye. Her face flooded with heat at the thought that Chuck knew exactly why Bear had taken her “some place private,” and why she was squirming on the hard chair. She dropped her gaze, wanting to sink through the floor. “Thanks, Chuck,” Bear said before digging in. “What did you want to talk about?” “You’ve heard the rumors about Marc Genrette, haven’t you?” Chuck said, and Bear nodded. “Are they anything more than rumors, do you know?”

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Emily caught Bear’s glance, and nodded, signaling permission to share what she’d told him. “I believe they are. Why, do you know something?” Chuck said, “He called me earlier today. Said he’d ‘lost something’, wanted to know if I’d seen either of you lately. I said no, because, of course, I hadn’t. Told me that, if I ran into either of you, he’d make it well worth my while to let him know.” He stopped to light his pipe. “Then, when Emily and Mary showed up blue with cold, I knew something was up. Your request to land here only strengthened my suspicions. Of course, I haven’t told Marc a thing. But I sense whatever he’d ‘lost’, it was expensive. He talked like a squirrel who’d had his nuts stolen, chattering nervously, almost as if he were afraid.” Emily, intent on Chuck’s story, had almost forgotten about her sore bottom. When she wiggled, she had to work hard to keep from wincing. “Bear, do you think that he might have gone to my place and taken the dresser?” “It’s possible,” Bear said. “In which case, we have nothing to show the FBI.” “FBI?” Chuck asked. “Guns,” Bear said. “Assault weapons,” Emily added. “He was running guns?” Chuck asked. “Jesus Christ. I figured it was drugs.” He ran a hand through his thick white hair. “We’d better go get whatever evidence you have right now, if it’s still there. I can hide it for you until you fly it to Anchorage tomorrow.” Fly it. A chill ran down Emily’s back. She hadn’t considered she might have to fly the dresser to the FBI. Bear pushed back his bowl. “No time like the present. Let’s go, Chuck. Emily,” he said, turning his gaze on her, “you stay here. I saw your shotgun. You have any shells?”

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“In a pocket of my parka. I grabbed them before I climbed down from your food cache.” Bear stared at her. “My food cache? Never mind, you can explain later.” The two men left in Chuck’s enormous truck that doubled as a plow. Emily found herself alone and frightened. What if they didn’t come back? What if Marc showed up? She extinguished all the lamps except one, which she used to light her way to her gun and box of shells. She moved her chair far from the heat and extinguished the lamp so she couldn’t be seen from outdoors, resting the gun across her lap. She barely noticed how much it hurt to sit. She was too scared. In the darkness, she waited for the men to return. ______________ “So, how do you plan to keep from being charged as an accessory by the FBI?” Chuck said, staring ahead. Bear shot the older man a glance. “I didn’t think you could be charged as an accessory if you didn’t know something illegal was going on.” “You know and I know that you didn’t know, but how do you prove it to the effin’ Bee Eye?” Bear sighed. “Hell if I know. Let’s just get the dresser and worry about the rest later.” Chuck slowed his truck as they approached Bear’s cabin, but everything looked undisturbed. “Think anyone’s waiting inside to ambush you?” “Possible. Let’s not find out,” Bear said. Chuck nodded and drove on. When they approached Emily’s cabin, it too looked undisturbed. “How you want to do this?” asked the older man, driving past the structure. In answer, Bear grabbed a gun from the rack behind him. “Where do you keep your extra shells?” “In the glove compartment.” Chuck continued driving until he knew that no one in the cabin could see them. Then he parked

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the truck and took a shotgun off the gun rack. Both men checked that the guns were fully loaded and stashed as many shells in their pockets as they could quickly access if something went wrong. When they climbed out of the truck, they agreed on a few simple hand signals so they wouldn’t have to talk. They trotted, their breaths icy plumes, until they drew within one hundred yards of the cabin. Then they split, Bear moving to approach the cabin from the side hidden from the road. Chuck crept straight ahead, but cautiously stepping from tree to tree, taking advantage of whatever protection he could find. Fifty feet from the cabin, Bear signaled for Chuck to stop, though he continued moving forward. The cabin, dark and silent, revealed no secrets. Forgive me, Emily, he thought as he used the gun barrel to smash a window pane, then flattened himself against the ground to avoid the bullets he assumed would follow. Silence and cold enveloped him. Now he doubted that anyone was inside. The surprise of a breaking window would be enough to panic most people into shooting. Staying low to the ground, Bear crept to the front door. The door’s lock had been utterly destroyed. He kicked the door open, then dropped back out of the line of fire. Again, no reaction. He chanced a look inside and saw no one. He didn’t see Emily’s dresser, either, which meant they had no evidence against Genrette. “Shit,” he muttered, turning to go signal “all clear” to Chuck. But before he did, he caught a tiny glimmer out of the corner of his eye. ______________ Emily had never been so cold in her life. Sitting far from the fire’s light, she didn’t feel much heat.

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But she’d be damned if she’d be a sitting duck for anyone outside who might look in the windows. A scratching sound made her heart leap in her chest. She remained motionless, barely breathing, for long minutes. Just as she was about to relax, she heard the scratching sound again, this time behind her. Unable to stop her motion, she snapped her head around. A moose looked back at her through the window. Stifling her desire to scream from pent-up emotion, she sucked air in and out, trying to relax. Nothing but a moose. The moose isn’t going to break down the door and hurt you. Relax. The moose moved on, leaving her alone. Despite her chilled state, she had sweat on her forehead. She wiped it off with the back of one glove. She wanted to look at her watch, but she couldn’t read it in the dark. She had an old-fashioned one on her arm: hands, not digital, no glowing numerals, no light button she could press to illuminate the dial. She wasn’t about to light a lamp just to see the time. It felt as if the men had been gone all night, though she suspected only about one hour had passed. She shifted restlessly on the hard chair, and the embers of her whipping roared to life. Suppressing an exclamation, she thought about how she’d have to get used to being spanked again. The intervening months when she and Bear hadn’t been together had turned her bottom as soft and sensitive as a baby’s. She shifted again, thinking, Jesus, my butt is sore. While balancing the shotgun on her lap, she tore a glove off and reached around to slide her hand under the many layers she wore. Her cold fingers felt good against her inflamed skin, soothing the fire that Bear had built back there. She leaned one way and then another, rubbing each burning cheek. She sensed only the slightest of welts now. However, her backside was no less tender for it.

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I’d better not piss off Bear like that again. Fifteen with the belt on my bare backside is real discipline. The image of headlights appeared on the ceiling, cheering Emily. She re-gloved her hand and went to the door, mighty glad the men had returned. ______________ “Chuck,” Bear called, “nobody’s here. But come see what I found.” When Chuck entered the cabin, Bear shone his flashlight on the floor. “I’ll be damned,” Chuck said, “it’s a rifle shell. But it doesn’t look like any shell I’ve ever seen before.” “It sure as hell isn’t Emily’s—she only owns a shotgun. But she did say that she saw assault weapons in the dresser. This shell could be from an AK-47 or something similar. We have to take it with us. Wait,” he said as the other man bent to retrieve it, “let me find something to put it in. We need to preserve fingerprints. An envelope would work.” “What are you, a crime scene guy on the side?” Chuck cackled. “I’d never have thought to do that.” Bear shone his flashlight on Emily’s kitchen table. He thought he’d remembered seeing mail there, and he was rewarded with a pile of envelopes. As he was reaching for a piece of junk mail, figuring Em wouldn’t mind if he opened it for the return envelope inside, a sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. He picked it up, and as he placed it back on the table, he couldn’t help seeing what it contained. Bear stood there, stung, the bitter cold making little impression on him. “Get the shell, why don’t you,” Chuck said. “I’m freezing my nuts off here.” Bear picked up the shell, placing it carefully inside a junk-mail return envelope. Then he folded it and stowed it in an inside pocket for safekeeping. What he’d read was echoing in his mind, but he

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couldn’t think about that right now. He had to get back to Emily, make sure she was all right, and then hide out with her until they could contact the authorities and bring them the shell. ______________ She heard voices, so she moved her hand toward the lock, eager to welcome Bear and Chuck back. She didn’t like being alone in the dark. Don’t be stupid. Look and see who it is before you unlock the door. Backing away from the door, she kept a tight grip on the gun as she peeked from behind a curtain. She didn’t see a vehicle, but she did see three men. And one of them was the other two’s prisoner, forced to walk in front of them. Emily took a hard look at the guns. She’d seen similar weapons hidden inside her dresser. Once the men drew closer, she recognized the prisoner—Marc Genrette. Get out of here, go, go! She whirled, moving as quickly and quietly as she could toward the back of the lodge. She ran through the kitchen to the back door. Before she opened it, she looked out a nearby window, and saw a man with a gun approaching. No good. She had to find another way out to save herself, so she could warn Bear and Chuck before they returned. The men she now heard at both doors had hidden their vehicle, so her newest friend and her lover might both walk into a trap. She spun in a circle, trying to think while every cell in her body screamed one word—escape. Earlier, she thought she’d seen another way out. Spying the pantry, she ran inside, shutting the door behind her. A heavy door large enough for deliveries was built into the outside wall. Because the man at the back door would see her leaving, she couldn’t open the door until she heard him

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enter the cabin. She waited, her insides clenching with fear. It didn’t take long. She heard the man shoot his gun, no doubt to blow away the lock, then his kick to knock the door open. She unlocked the pantry door, breathed deeply, then threw it open. But it didn’t move far. Snow was partially blocking the door. Cursing silently, she shoved the door hard enough to squeeze out, then pushed it shut. Slogging through the snow like the devil himself was dogging her steps, she fled far enough into the darkness to be unseen from the windows. Bear and Chuck could come back at any time, she knew, so she circled around the building, remaining as far away from it as she could manage. She crept across the frozen, snowy ground, parallel with the Denali Highway, staying hidden using what little cover she found. The unmistakable sound of an automatic weapon echoed from inside the cabin.

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Chapter Seven

Chuck drove the truck back to the lodge while Bear was silent. What he’d read weighed heavily on his mind. “You’re awfully quiet,” the older man said. “Worried about Emily.” “Me, too.” Chuck shot a sharp glance at him. “We might start thinking up a Plan B. I’m sure the bad guys could find out that you and I are friends— and that I have a landing strip.” “Got any ideas? Kind of a chilly night to camp in the woods.” Bear was glad to have a problem other than Emily’s writing to occupy his mind. “I have plenty of cold-weather camping gear, if it comes to that. Of course, that assumes the bad guys aren’t already at my place.” Chuck scratched his nose. “Suppose they are. How do we rescue Emily?” “I’ve no idea.” Bear set his mouth in a grim line. “We can hope she managed to escape.” “No flies on that woman,” Chuck said. “Wouldn’t be too surprised if she did.” “She’s a smart one, that’s for sure,” Bear said. He loved Emily like he’d never loved anyone else— not even Dana. The hurt of what he’d read in her cabin hit him fresh. He couldn’t lose her, not after they’d reunited, not after they’d said they loved each other. About two miles from the lodge, a small person jumped in the road, arms waving. Chuck hit the brakes, and the person ran off the road, out of the way of the sliding truck.

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“Emily,” Bear said, his chest tight. God, but he was glad to see her in one piece. She banged on the window, which he lowered. “Men at the lodge,” she panted. “At least three, with Genrette as hostage. What do we do now?” “Wait for them to leave?” Chuck asked. “We could hide out in the Clearwater Range.” “I have a better idea,” said Bear, his eyes on Emily. “Any place we can hide this truck? Then we can skirt the edge of the mountains to the plane, and fly out of here.” He watched her face whiten. “No.” “Can you carry three people, Bear? If you can’t, I’ll stay behind. You and Emily get to Anchorage and hide there, keep the evidence safe.” “Evidence? The dresser was still in my cabin?” Her expression lightened. “No. It was gone. But we found a shell casing,” Bear said, holding her gaze. “I can carry the three of us easy, though I took out the third and fourth seats because I usually haul stuff, not people. Somebody would have to ride in the cargo area. It wouldn’t be comfortable, and it’d probably be rough.” “So’s dying,” Chuck said, deadpan. “I’ll ride in the cargo area. I know just the place to stash my truck.” “Let me drive the truck out of here,” Emily said. “You two go to Anchorage. I’ll be all right.” “Ain’t no way I’m leaving a tenderfoot behind,” Chuck said. “And that’s that.” “You’re flying out of here,” Bear said. “Get used to it, Em.” ______________ She wanted to scream, wanted to run and hide. Getting in a single-engine plane was the last thing Emily wanted to do. No, the last thing I want to do is get shot and die. Taking the plane is better— but not by much.

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Despite her reluctance to fly, she continued hiking with Bear and Chuck. The truck wouldn’t be too visible where they’d left it, though you could see it if you knew where to look, or passed by at a crawl. They were all betting that the bad guys wouldn’t be looking, and wouldn’t be driving that slowly. The unrelenting cold was something she’d have to get used to. She’d never been as cold for as long as she had been tonight. Maybe she’d live in Alaska only during the summer. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough money to own a winter home some place warm like San Diego. She thought again of the note she’d starting writing to a friend back in New England. She couldn’t send the woman an email—Cyndy was a total Luddite when it came to computers. Not that she really wanted to. She enjoyed having Internet access at a café or library, and liked having a laptop to keep her diary. However, corresponding the old-fashioned way pleased Emily almost as much as it did her friend. She remembered the essay she’d been working on, glad that she was trying her hand at writing. Maybe she could land a regular column about her newbie experiences in the frozen north. Ahead of her, the white plane was clearly visible. Fear struck her for two reasons. “Bear,” she whispered, “suppose they’re waiting to ambush anyone who approaches the plane? You can see it from the cabin.” The three stopped. Chuck had heard her. Saying nothing, he inclined his head to indicate he’d scope it out while she and Bear waited under cover. The two of them were alone. He gripped her hand and squeezed. She realized he was trying to give her courage. If only it were that easy. A few minutes later, Chuck waved at them from behind a large rock that hid him from anyone who might be looking out one of the lodge’s windows.

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Bear kissed the top of her head, let go of her hand, and ran. She followed, managing to keep up with him. Chuck joined them. The three fled to the plane. Bear made it first, unblocking the wheels and throwing open the doors. Chuck dove behind the copilot’s seat as Bear hopped inside. He hissed, “Inside, Em, inside! Now!” She found herself frozen, hand on the plane, unable to move her body up and into the copilot’s seat. The last time she’d sat in that position was in Jack’s plane. Shouts carried to them, and the sound of gunfire followed. “Jesus!” Chuck yelled. “Let’s get the hell out of here!” “Emily,” Bear screamed over the engine’s noise, “get in the fuckin’ plane.” The whine of nearby bullets finally pushed her into action. She swung up, landing in the seat, frantically buckling her seat belt and putting the copilot’s headset on while Bear taxied. “Did-did you do the pre-flight check?” Her teeth chattered from cold and fright. “Hell, no, I thought staying alive was better,” he said. “Hang on while I goose this baby up into the air.” She could see bullets raising little puffs in the snow next to the plane as they sped along. Terrified, Emily shut her eyes and gripped the seat. She felt the plane make a final bump before the familiar sensation of flying hit her stomach. The plane swayed, and her eyes popped open. “Relax, just some crosswinds,” Bear said into the headset. “We’re going to stop for fuel before Anchorage, and I’ll do a complete pre-flight check there. Okay, Em?” “Yes,” she said faintly. “Did you realize I have only two headsets? Chuck can’t hear a word we’re saying.” She glanced over her shoulder. Chuck smiled and gave her a thumbs-up from his prone position.

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“You know what else?” Bear asked. “No, what?” “For not getting into the plane right away, I’m going to spank you till you can’t sit down. Once we’re some place safe.” “Bear! No fair!” she cried. “I was terrified. Cut me some slack here.” “You mean, you’re not terrified now?” He smiled at her. She smiled back, weakly. “I’m about to scream, but that’s better than before, when I was certain I’d die in this tin can.” “Tin can? Don’t you dare diss my plane. Not unless you want me to use the yardstick on your bare backside.” He grinned at her, raising his eyebrows, and the love she felt for him began to overpower her fear. “Bear,” she murmured, “thank you. For everything.” “Love you,” he said. She wondered why she saw him wince after he said it. ______________ I’d better enjoy being with her while I can. Who knows whether she’ll stay in Alaska? His chest aching, he glanced her way. Emily had turned quiet. Bear hadn’t said so, but he was damned proud of her. Getting in his plane obviously had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done—but she’d done it. How many people in this life ever faced their fears like that? He’d make sure he told her how proud he felt— but he’d still spank her, no doubt about it. Arousal coiled inside him at the thought of her across his lap, her bottom red and hot, her cries half-pain, half-lust. Shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts, he concentrated on flying. He knew the risks. They could die tonight if something freaky happened, like

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the wind shear that slammed her husband’s plane into the ground. But he rather doubted it. Privately, he’d thought it much more likely they were going to die before they got off the ground. “Hey, you doing all right?” he asked her. She nodded. “You’re following the road. I didn’t expect that,” she said. “I figured you’d take the shortest way. I thought that was one advantage of flying.” “In Alaska, it’s safer to follow a highway. Then, if we have to put down, we’re more likely to have a good, level place to land. Plus, it’s easier for someone to find us if we have an emergency. There’s not a lot of radar outside of Anchorage, Fairbanks, and Juneau, so landing in some deserted area could doom us. We’ll follow the Richardson until we reach the Glenn Highway. Then we’ll follow that most of the way into Anchorage.” She nodded, then turned her attention back outside the plane. He knew she was wishing and hoping and praying the flight would be over soon. Suddenly, clouds surrounded them. He felt the plane lose altitude, and verified it by glancing at the altimeter. Tiny, hard pellets hit the windshield. Sleet or freezing rain—the worst weather they could encounter. He peered at each wing, dread growing in his gut. The wings were icing up. If they were icing, that meant the tail and the landing gear would be icing up as well. Standard procedure was to exit icing conditions immediately. Small planes like his didn’t have deicing equipment. If he’d had time to check on weather conditions, he could have avoided the ice. But he’d been a little busy trying to keep them all from getting shot back at the lodge. Emily seemed to catch his fear without his saying a word. She whipped her head around, saying, “What’s wrong?” He tried not to show concern on his face. “A little icing. I’m going to fly lower to get out of these

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clouds. Then we’ll land at Gulkana, so I can deice the plane.” He scanned his gauges, worried inside. The ice that was accumulating created drag, which slowed the plane. If he increased his air speed, it would suck up more fuel, and he was running low as it was. But he had to increase his speed, because if it dropped too low, the engine would stall. Then Bear would have to land the plane in what was known as a “controlled crash.” Chances of survival from any small-plane crash weren’t huge. If he didn’t exit the icy conditions soon, their chances of crashing increased. He watched his altimeter, his fuel gauge, and his speed drop, dismay growing inside him with every new tick down. He contacted Gulkana Airport, knowing what he had to say, and knowing that, when Emily heard it through the headphones, it might turn her hysterical with fear. “Gulkana, this is Bear Collins, N45613. Request immediate permission to land. Icing up. Repeat, icing. Decreasing altitude, but still in weather.” “Roger that, Bear. We’re quiet. Come on in.” Ground control gave him the coordinates he needed, as he was flying under IFR4. He could hear Emily hyperventilating via the headset, but he couldn’t think about her fear. He had to fly the plane perfectly if they were to land without crashing. He started having trouble with roll control. He fought the plane’s attempts to yaw5, his mouth dry 3 4

Not a real ID number.

IFR stands for “instrument flight rules.” When pilots can’t see where they’re going, they have to trust their instruments (and ground control) to land properly. Pilots who can see where they’re going fly under VFR, for “visual flight rules.” Pilots must be specially certified to fly IFR.

5

“Yawing” means the plane is rolling from side to side (wing to wing). “Pitching”, by the way, means the plane is rolling up and down, nose to tail.

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and pulse pounding. At 500 feet, they exited icing conditions, but the plane was still acting up because of the accumulated ice. Bear wrestled the plane to the ground, hitting the runway hard and bouncing. A tiny scream in his headset meant that Emily was on the edge of losing it. The plane skidded to a stop. Bear realized he was soaked in sweat despite the below-zero temperature. When he removed his headset, it was damp. “Chuck, you all right?” he asked. Chuck wasn’t strapped in securely, so Bear was concerned. “I’ve had rougher landings,” the older man said, but Bear saw the anxiety in his eyes and the whiteness of his face. Then Bear turned to Emily, but she’d already left the plane. She staggered a short distance away, and vomited. Bear went to her. “I’m sorry. I know that was hard to deal with.” She grabbed him. “Let’s stay here tonight. Can we stay in Gulkana? Please?” “Go inside the building and relax,” he said. “I need to take care of the plane.” Chuck and Emily headed for the building while Bear taxied to the proper area. There, he deiced the plane thoroughly, verifying that every single spot of ice was gone. Even a tiny bit could disturb the plane’s flight. After he fueled up, he joined the other two inside and gave the ground control fellow, Tom, his pirep6. Tom in turn handed him pireps from two other pilots. “Not a good night to follow the highway—too much weather from the Wrangell Range. Where you headed?” “Merrill,” Bear said. “You’d best stay here the rest of the night. Those pireps indicate moderate to severe icing between here and Anchorage.” “Hell,” Bear said, “we’re kind of in a bind, and we really need to get to Anchorage tonight. Unless 6

Pirep stands for “pilot weather report.”

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there’s a way to hide the plane, and a place nearby to stay.” Tom stood. “Let’s put the plane inside. You can get a few hours’ sleep at my place, if you want. I’ll be working all night. Or, you could stay in the back room here.” Chuck spoke up. “I’ll take the back room. Why don’t you two stay at Tom’s?” Tom handed Bear keys and gave him directions. Bear, in turn, told Chuck to use the sleeping bag and other items he routinely carried in his plane. Then he moved the plane inside the hangar. Within twenty minutes, he and Emily were on their way to Tom’s house in his Jeep. “You hungry?” Bear said. “I’m sure there’s something we could fix at Tom’s.” “Would that be before or after my spanking?” Emily asked. ______________ Emily’s mouth tasted sour. She wanted to kiss Bear, but she wanted to clean up a little first. Still, she couldn’t resist suggesting a spanking because she liked the way the corners of his mouth would curl up in response. “We really should get some sleep. We have to come back by eight. But I think we could arrange a spanking. There is that matter of you not getting in the plane right away and endangering us all.” He grinned, and she grinned back. They pulled up at Tom’s place—a batteredlooking mobile home, but it would do. Inside, they both washed after feeding the wood stove. Then Bear led her to a chair without arms. She waited, feeling breathless, while he took down her many layers of clothing before pulling her across his lap. “Em,” he said, “I think you need to relieve some stress. So I’m not going to be tough on you. Unless that’s what you want, what you need.”

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She said, “Please, help me cry. Do whatever it takes.” His palm crisply smacked the center of her sit spot. The sting took her breath away. His hand slapped her again in the same spot. And again. The burning she felt in her most tender of areas made her squirm, but she needed more, if she was going to cry. The steady rhythm of his hand walloping her helped her let go. She closed her eyes, trying to surrender to the pain. She needed to scream, wail, throw a fit. But so far, all she could do was breathe hard, wiggle, and moan. “Ohhh,” she gasped, “my whole sitting area’s stinging like mad. I may regret this, but I need to cry. Use the belt, Bear.” The clinking of his buckle and the whisper of the leather drawn through the belt loops was his only reply. She scrunched her eyes closed and waited, her entire body tensed. WHOP! The sound of the doubled leather was dull, but there was nothing dull about the smarting it raised. Unable to contain herself, she kicked wildly. He threw his leg over hers, making her body jackknife over his left thigh, her nose nearly on the floor. “Now,” Bear said after petting her hair, “we’ll get down to business.” Each time the leather landed, it felt like a brand. The throbbing heat it left on her bottom made her flail, desperate to escape. When she threw her hands back to cover herself, he gathered both wrists up in his huge left hand, never breaking the tempo of the whacks. Emily felt well and truly whipped, her entire bottom on fire, and yet she still hadn’t cried. “Em,” he said in a low tone, “let go. Let go of all your fears. Let go of the anger you feel toward me because the plane iced up.”

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“I’m not angry at you,” she protested, but as she said it, she sensed the first sensation of tears behind her eyes.” “Yes, you are. Even though it wasn’t my fault, some place inside you blames me for putting you through the stress of it. Just as some place inside me is angry at you for balking at climbing in the plane, back at the lodge. It’s not logical. Feelings aren’t logical. Let go.” Then, the belt landed on the same cheek repeatedly, right in her sitting area. Tears were in her eyes. She struggled against the fiery sting as blow after blow burned the same place. Bear switched cheeks, whacking her in the same spot four, five, six, seven times. And still the tears filling her eyes wouldn’t fall. When the belt bit the center of her sit spot, she cried out, and, finally, her sobs began. She wailed louder and louder as he switched from the belt to his hand, spanking the few square inches she sat on. Once she was limp with uncontrollable crying, he stopped. Immediately, his hand rubbed her smarting flesh, and the relief of it made her sob all the harder. “It’s over now, Em. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met. Possibly the bravest person I’ve ever met. I love you.” “I love you, too,” she sobbed as he lifted her, so she could sit on his lap. It hurt to sit, but his kiss took away any protest she might have made. When his hand explored her, she groaned her approval, her own hands scrabbling for his zipper. Before long they were both naked below the waist, Bear still sitting in the chair, Emily sitting on him, with her legs wrapped around his waist. They kissed while they made love, and she felt a kind of desperation as she did so. Bear was the only man she wanted, the only man she needed. His thumb massaged her swollen nub, and with a loud cry, she came, tears streaming down her

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face once more. After he was satisfied, he kissed her neck, murmuring, “If we get through this alive, don’t you dare leave me.” “Bear,” she whispered, “I’d never leave you.” “Oh, really,” he said. “So what was that, that thing you wrote that was lying on your table? You couldn’t say enough bad things about Alaska, and about me. You wrote that you were going to leave.” “I never planned to leave you,” she cried. “I love you. I was just bitching—what I wrote was part of a letter to a friend back East. And I wrote it before Thanksgiving, before we reunited. Besides, it was private. How could you violate my privacy like that?” “It was lying right there. When I opened a piece of junk mail, so I’d have an envelope for the shell, the paper fell on the floor. The words jumped out at me, Em. I don’t think I violated anything. You shouldn’t have left it lying around.” She willed herself to calm down. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have left it lying around. But I’m not going to leave you, Bear. Not ever. Not if you want me to stay.” His answer was to pick her up and carry her to the guest bedroom. As he placed her on the bed, he said, “I want you forever.” They disrobed completely then, despite the chill, and made love again. ______________ “Wake up, sleepyhead.” Emily opened one eye. A smiling Bear was offering a mug of coffee. “Come on, we’ve got to go soon.” She sat up, only to yelp and jump to her feet. “What did you do to me back there? I can hardly sit.” “I told you I’d spank you till you couldn’t sit down. Remember?” He winked at her.

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She sipped the coffee while her free hand rubbed her bottom. It was as if he’d taken off a layer of skin, the sensitivity was so intense. It hurt a little just to run her fingers across the remaining welts. “Wow. Next time I need to cry, I’m going to rent a three-hankie movie. At least, I’d be able to sit down after I watched it.” He slapped one cheek lightly, and she yelped again. “Hey! I’m hurting here!” “Drink your coffee and then take your shower, if you’re going to,” he said. “I’m going to call Tom to see if he wants us to bring him anything.” After half a cup, she’d screwed up enough courage to stand under hot water. She knew from experience that the water would make her backside sting like the dickens. Showering as quickly as she could, she dried off, taking care not to do more than gently pat her sitting area with the rough towel. “Ready?” Bear said as she was hurrying into her clothing. “We’ll grab a cinnamon roll or something for breakfast. Tom asked me to bring some coffee and food to him and Chuck.” Once she was bundled up, she climbed into the Jeep, lowering her bottom gingerly into the seat. “You’re really sore, eh?” Bear patted her thigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spanked you so hard.” “No, I told you to,” she said, “and while I don’t enjoy sitting, I really needed that cry. And you needed to say what you had to say. Otherwise, we might have broken up over a misunderstanding.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, when’s the sun going to come up?” “Not for another couple of hours yet. Hell, duck!” Bear yelled. “Why?” she asked while shrinking down in her seat. “I see a truck coming toward us I don’t like the looks of.” Bear was worried the truck approaching from the opposite direction held the men who’d shot at

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them. He could make out two silhouettes. He pulled up his parka’s hood and tied it tightly, the better to hide his face. “Brace yourself in case it’s really them because I’ll have to accelerate like mad. Damn shame there’s no shotgun in Tom’s truck.” He heard a whimper. “Emily?” “I’m scared,” she cried, “really scared.” “Em, do you trust me?” “What?” Emily said. “I said, do you trust me? Do you trust me to do my best to keep us both safe?” Bear couldn’t look at her because he was obsessed with the approaching truck, but he felt her hand on his thigh. “I trust you with my life. I have ever since I got in that damned plane of yours, Bear.” “Then hang on.”

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Chapter Eight

They were about to pass by the oncoming truck, and the blacktop road was ahead. Bear accelerated to speed past the truck. As they bounced up and down over the gravel road’s ice ruts, he heard Em yelp. Must have hit her head on something. He didn’t get much of a look at the two men, but he kept pressing the accelerator. When he turned onto the blacktop road, the truck nearly went up on two wheels. He fought to keep it on the road as it skidded. Then he floored it toward Gulkana Airport, his eyes on the rear view mirror. After a couple of minutes, when it was clear no one was following them, he exhaled loudly. “I don’t see anyone chasing us. Go ahead and take a seat. Make sure you use your seat belt.” “Thank God.” Emily flopped into the seat, buckling her seat belt. He reached out to rub the angry-looking bump on her forehead. “Do you think it was them?” she said. He nodded. “Even though they’re not after us?” “Yes. Either they didn’t realize who we were when we passed, or they had trouble turning around.” “How did they find us? Alaska’s a big place.” “Not big when it comes to airports with services between the fishing lodge and Anchorage.” “How would they know we were heading for Anchorage?”

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“They’d know it’s a likely option. For one thing, major-level law enforcement is there. For another, it’s easier to hide in a big city than a small one. Anchorage is the biggest city in the state.” “I’d think it would be easier to lose yourself in the Bush.” “You have a point. But we couldn’t hide there forever, with no provisions and winter weather upon us.” Emily stopped talking. Bear let her remain silent because his fears were screaming inside his head, fears that the bad guys had found them because they’d hurt Tom or Chuck. Maybe fatally. If he was responsible for either of their deaths—he left the sentence unfinished. He doubted he could live with someone’s death on his conscience. He passed a coffee hut, but decided that reaching the airport took precedence. He braked hard in front of the main building, running to the door, not waiting for Emily. It was locked. He peered inside, hearing a faint noise. He returned to the truck, found an ice axe in its bed, and used it to batter the door open. While heading for the back room, his thoughts were grim. Relief flooded him when he found both Chuck and Tom. The men were a little beat-up and tied together back to back, but alive. Chuck had a black eye and skinned knuckles, no doubt from fighting back. Tom’s nose had been bleeding. Both men were gagged with duct tape, but able to make the little bit of noise Bear had heard. Using his pocket tool, he cut the heavy rope wrapped around them. Each of them tore off the duct tape, grimacing as they did so. “Damned tape pulled out a few whiskers,” Chuck muttered. Tom looked as if he were worse off than the older man. “Hey, you all right?” Bear asked. Tom tried to smile after tearing off the duct tape across his mouth. “They broke my nose, maybe. But I’m fine.”

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His dazed expression did not look “fine” to Bear, nor did the bump on his head, but he decided to joke with the man and not challenge his statement. “Maybe a broken nose will improve your looks.” Tom shook himself as if that would improve his mental state. “No doubt. We’d better check your plane. They might have sabotaged it.” “They left here not long ago,” Chuck said. “We met them on the road,” Bear said. “I think all four of us have targets on our backs now. We’d better get going. Did they drive here?” Bear asked. “No, flew,” Tom said, pointing away from the hangar. “See? They must have stolen a truck to drive to my place. I tried not to tell them where I lived, but after they tied me up, they took my wallet to see for themselves. Plenty of maps around here to guide you where you want to go.” Bear studied the plane. “That’s one of Genrette’s. Was it two men, or three?” “Two.” Dashing for the plane, he called back, “Genrette may be inside. If those goons don’t know how to fly, Marc would have been the pilot.” When Bear jerked open the pilot’s door, he found Genrette bound and gagged. His eyes bulged when he saw Bear, and the man began thrashing around wildly. “Don’t worry, you bastard,” Bear growled. “I’m not going to do a damned thing to you except put you somewhere else, so we can fly out of here. Chuck,” he said, tossing keys to the older man, “bring Tom’s truck over here.” Chuck raced across the airport, returning with the truck in seconds. The three men dumped Genrette unceremoniously in its front seat, paying no attention to his muffled protests. Bear pointed to Genrette’s twin-propeller plane. “The one plane I’m certain they wouldn’t have sabotaged is this one. Get in, everyone. There are enough seats for all of us.”

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Emily, who’d been quiet until now said, “You know how to fly this plane?” “I’ve flown it,” he said, not saying out loud, once. “You get any negative weather pireps recently, Tom?” “None since yours. The bad guys didn’t bother to give me a weather report.” Bear hopped inside, doing a quick pre-flight check, mostly to familiarize himself with the controls. He could feel Emily’s gaze on him. The woman knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t completely secure in flying the plane. “Get your headgear on,” he said, searching the skies for nearby planes before heading to the runway. Emily pointed, yelling, “Hell, here they come!” The truck headed right for the runway, and the man driving it parked it crosswise. One man hopped out, aiming an automatic rifle, while the other stayed behind the wheel. Bear figured it came down to a monstrous game of “chicken.” If none of them got shot first, that is. The man fired as Bear bore down on him and the truck. To his surprise, none of the bullets penetrated the cabin. “Son of a bitch,” he wondered out loud. “Marc had a bulletproof windshield installed. Who does that, except a smuggler?” “We’re going to hit the truck!” Emily cried. “Bear, stop!” Ignoring her, he accelerated faster to gain enough speed to take off. “Jesus Christ,” he heard Tom scream, “we’re going to smash right into them!” Gritting his teeth, Bear said, “I think they’ll move. But assume the crash position, just in case.” His headphones filled with the sounds of terrified people. Emily was probably having a heart attack, he thought. He had no time to look at her or reassure her that he knew what he was doing. Even

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if he wasn’t sure he did. Still, Bear was certain that, if he kept up this game of chicken, the men would move. They did. But they didn’t move the truck. Bear braked, turning away from them as the goons fled, and in the process picking up Gulkana’s second runway. He accelerated rapidly, concentrating on getting enough lift to fly. Just when it seemed they would run out of tarmac, the plane left the ground. He pointed it sharply toward the sky. Once they’d reached the proper altitude and leveled off, he exhaled in a rush, sweat rolling down his forehead. “Thanks for not freaking out too much,” he said in his best I-can-handle-anything pilot’s drawl. No one said anything in response until Emily did. “Bear, if we get out of this alive, I’m going to wring your neck.” ______________ She was still gasping from her fear, but they’d all been scared. Even Bear, though he’d probably never admit it. But not once did she doubt that Bear would do anything except fly the plane to the best of his abilities. She’d trusted him, and she’d been right to do so. She looked out the window, surprised to find that she wasn’t afraid of flying any longer. When she felt a tap on her arm, she turned. He was smiling at her. “You look as if you’re actually enjoying the flight,” he said. “I am. Now that I’m not peeing my pants in terror any more.” The men behind her laughed along with Bear. She’d forgotten they could hear whatever she said, unlike the flight to Gulkana in his plane. Thank heavens she hadn’t said anything about sex or spanking. Her face flushed with hot embarrassment, but Chuck slapped her on the shoulder. “You’re a tough one, Em, and a good addition to the frozen

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north. When this is all over, I’ll buy you a drink or three.” “You trying to make time with my woman?” Bear fake-growled, and this time all of them laughed, Emily included. “Do you think they’ll follow us?” she said. Bear nodded. “They’ll have to drive, however, if they did sabotage all the other planes, and that gives us plenty of time. Still, I’ll radio ahead to Merrill Field and warn them that Genrette might be arriving in the company of criminals.” “You think he ran guns because he wanted to? Or because he was forced into it?” Chuck asked. Bear said, “Tom, you up to speed on this? You know what we’re talking about?” The air traffic controller grunted. “I figured out most of it.” “The man gave me my first job when I started my air taxi business,” Bear continued. “I can’t help feeling sad about the whole mess. If Marc really was a victim, then I’m sorry I left him behind in Gulkana with God knows who to face God knows what fate. Nobody good, that’s for sure, uses automatic weapons and takes hostages. But I wasn’t about to endanger any of us, just in case Marc was a baddie, so he had to stay there.” “Me, I think Marc probably started because he was greedy. He likes fancy things, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he got in over his head. I can’t see Marc taking a life, not one of his friends and neighbors, at any rate,” Chuck said. “You may be right about that,” Bear said. “But you never know what people will do, how they’ll react, until they’re put to the test.” He smiled at Emily, and her heart fluttered with love. They flew in silence until Bear contacted Merrill Field in Anchorage, informing them of his intention to land there, and of any bad company that might arrive looking for him. Tom supplied identifying numbers for the planes parked at Gulkana, and

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Bear supplied his own, so the ground crew at Merrill would recognize them. “Of course,” Bear said to the control tower, “they could always alter the numbers on the tail. I think I saw a plane with an altered tail number at Marc’s place. They might also arrive by truck or car, too. If they fly, Marc Genrette will probably be the pilot, and he may be a hostage.” “We’re on top of it, Collins,” the guy at Merrill said. “We’re contacting the FBI right now.” Emily glanced to her left. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone call you anything but Bear,” she said. They landed without incident. As they disembarked, a man and a woman standing on the tarmac each held up identification. “Federal agents,” they said. “Identify yourselves.” “Man, you folks got here quick, considering it’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving,” Chuck said. Bear handed over his licenses to fly and to drive, as did Tom, while Emily and Chuck produced only Alaska drivers’ licenses. Bear said, “I have the rifle shell inside my jacket—” “Cuff those two,” the Special Agent in Charge7 said, pointing at Bear and Emily. “Watch out—the woman’s got a Federal conviction on her record. She violated the Corporate Malfeasance Act.” “I did not,” she snapped while allowing herself to be handcuffed. “That conviction was overturned.” “And this one flew guns for Genrette. We’ve been watching Genrette for a long time,” the SAC said. “I never did!” Bear protested. “I only flew furniture.” “But the guns were hidden inside the furniture,” the SAC replied. “We have a record of the deliveries

7

Special Agent in Charge is abbreviated hereafter as “SAC”. The SAC is top dog at an FBI Field Office, such as Anchorage.

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you made, and you handed over furniture on at least three occasions to illegal weapons buyers.” “These two aren’t criminals!” Chuck said. “They’ve been doing their best to stay alive and deliver the evidence to you, you dumb-ass Feebs.” “Watch your mouth,” the male agent said, glaring. “That’s right,” Tom piped up. “I’d probably be dead now if it weren’t for Bear and Emily.” “Don’t you two get yourselves in trouble,” Bear said. “Oh, hell,” Emily grumbled as they were loaded into an FBI van. “Normally, I’d enjoy being handcuffed, but being arrested isn’t sexy. We’re screwed, Bear. Temporarily, anyway.” “Yeah, I know,” he sighed. ______________ First, the FBI searched both Emily and Bear thoroughly. Then the Feds placed them in two separate interview rooms, releasing the hands that were cuffed behind their backs but attaching them to a table leg in their respective rooms. Bear was pissed off and doing his best to keep his temper. Emily’s face had been the color of spoiled milk, and he was worried about her. No doubt being in Federal custody brought back a slew of bad memories. “Mr. Collins,” the SAC said, “I want to believe your story. I do. But evidence doesn’t lie. We have photos of you delivering the guns to known gunrunners here in Anchorage.” “Wrong. You have photos of me delivering furniture. I didn’t have a freakin’ clue that any guns were inside. Besides, would I risk my life—would Emily risk her life—to bring you that damned rifle shell if we were guilty?” “Maybe you’re using the shell only to appear innocent.” The SAC tapped a pencil on the tabletop. “Check my record.”

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“We did. You don’t have one.” “Exactly,” Bear snapped. “Check my finances. You’ll find no money trail. And everyone knows that people run guns for money, not because they think it’s a fun way to pass the time.” The SAC frowned. “You’d do well to keep smart remarks to yourself.” “Why? Will you charge me with breaking the Smartass Statute?” The agent left the room. “Hey, I could use a donut,” he called after her. “And coffee, cream, no sugar.” ______________ Emily, unlike Bear, was managing to hold her tongue. She’d been through the Federal justice system once, and knew that full cooperation, along with a large helping of groveling, was her best strategy. She’d convinced the agents to doublecheck her conviction. When they did, they discovered that her conviction had indeed been overturned when she blew the whistle on the real violators of the Corporate Malfeasance Act at Consolidated Amalgamated. Agents were on their way to her cabin, the SAC told her. Once the cabin and her finances were searched and cleared, she’d be free to go. “But what about Bear?” she asked, truly worried for her love. “He’s not guilty. He’s not. I swear it. He’s one of the good guys in this mess.” The SAC studied Emily for a moment. “Personally, I think you’re right. But we do have those photos, and I can’t let him go just because you say—or because I think, which I do—that he’s a ‘good guy’.” The door opened, and a male agent jerked his head to the side. The SAC stood to leave. Emily said, “Before you leave, please have someone take me to the ladies’ room.” “Someone will be back—”

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“Please, now, before I wet my pants.” Emily begged with her eyes. “It’s been a long day.” The female SAC smiled. “Okay. I’ll send somebody in to take you to the ladies’ room as soon as possible.” Several hours later, the FBI released Emily without charges. But Bear was in a holding cell. It would likely be days, the SAC had told her, before he’d be released. If he’d be released at all. She pleaded to be allowed to remain in the building. When the agents asked her why, she said she was afraid for her life. That was when Emily discovered that the FBI had Genrette and two other thugs in custody. The third man’s whereabouts were unknown. “Let me stay till you catch the third guy,” she’d begged, and the agents had reluctantly allowed her to. “Have you questioned Genrette about Bear’s lack of involvement?” she asked, thinking, that bastard had better not lie. “We’re working on that,” was all she could get out of the agents. Frustrated, she paced the room. She could afford the finest lawyers in the country, and she’d gladly spend the money for Bear. But he had to ask for one, and so far, he hadn’t, according to the SAC. “Doesn’t that show you he’s innocent?” Emily had cried. The SAC had said nothing in response. That night, she still hadn’t been able to visit Bear. But she did learn that the FBI had found the third man—dead—in Gulkana. They wouldn’t give her any more details. So, she left to check into the most expensive hotel in Anchorage that she could find, taking the biggest suite it had. After the past thirty-six hours, Emily felt she deserved all the luxury she could afford. The next morning, she told them she was staying one more night. She wanted to be in Anchorage when they released Bear, which she

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hoped would happen on Monday. Emily refused to consider it an “if”. After breakfast, she joined the whirl of shoppers outside, and found herself stunned by their numbers. Then she remembered it was the biggest shopping weekend of the year. Christmas was only a month away. So she plunged into the crowds and bought herself some new clothing—she didn’t want to clean what she’d been wearing for over two days, she wanted to trash it—and also bought some for Bear. Then, she returned to her suite, running water for a hot bath. As she sat down in the tub, she realized her bottom was no longer sore. That fact made her sad. She’d been soaking for about ten minutes, breathing in the flowery scent of the bath oil she’d added to the tub, when the phone rang. Thank heavens for phones in bathrooms in fancy hotels! “Hello?” she said, still relaxing in the tub. “I figured I’d find you here,” the familiar voice teased her. She sat up, sloshing water onto the floor. “Bear! Where are you? Did they let you go?” “Yes, they finally let me go. Tell the front desk to give me a key, and I’ll come up.” “My backside’s not sore any more,” she said. “We can fix that,” he said, laughing. ______________ “Ow, ow, ow!” Emily cried. No matter how many times he spanked her, she never got used to the stinging pain, never got used to the embarrassment of being across Bear’s lap bare-bottomed. “What ever possessed you to say what you did?” he asked, his toughened palm raining whacks onto her sitting area. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Ow!” she cried as he slapped her backside hard. “Bear, I didn’t mean it!

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My butt’s so sore from last night’s spanking, please, I’m sorry!” “Last night was last night. Today is today. Two different offenses. We’re guests here at the fishing lodge. You watch your mouth from now on,” he said, delivering five intense smacks to the center of her sit spot. “Remember, if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” When she was able to stand, she threw herself on his chest, sobbing her apologies. She felt his lips in her hair. “Everything’s forgiven, Em. Come on, settle down so we can rejoin the others.” “A spanking on both Christmas Eve and Christmas day. It’s just not fair,” she grumbled, her palms clasping her throbbing cheeks. He pulled away, raising his eyebrows at her. “Is that a complaint? Because, if it is, I have a belt here that hasn’t been used since last night.” “Nooo, oh, nooo,” she said, trying to rub away the sting his palm left behind. “No, Bear, no complaints.” He helped her pull up her underwear and pants. “Then let’s rejoin the others.” She followed him down the stairs of the fishing lodge, her hands still clasping her tender rear. Chuck had offered to make Christmas dinner for everyone, and the rest of them—Mary, John, Tom from Gulkana, and his girlfriend, Jennifer—were waiting. “That’s a beautiful vest,” Emily said to John. “Mary did a wonderful job.” She hadn’t quite finished her after-spanking sniffling. Mary said, “Thanks, Emily,” and passed her a face tissue with a wink. Emily sat down very, very slowly. Jennifer said, “Tom’s told me a little of what happened. What was the final outcome, Bear?” “Genrette was importing AK-47s made in North Korea. He hid them inside expensive furniture and flew them across the Bering Strait, from Russia to

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Wales, Alaska. From there, he flew them to some place the FBI wouldn’t reveal to extract the guns before sending the furniture on to real buyers, like Emily.” Bear nodded his head at her and took her hand. “But some times he left the guns inside and shipped the furniture to go-betweens, in an attempt to fool anyone who might be watching, I guess. From there, the guns made their way across the U.S., into the hands of several domestic terrorist organizations.” “I always knew something was up with him,” Mary said. “He was making too much money from his ‘import business.’ What happened to Genrette?” Emily spoke up. “Marc copped a plea and rolled over on the two goons who held him hostage. Those two will never make it to trial, though.” “Why not?” Chuck said. “Because they both died in prison under mysterious circumstances. I just found that out yesterday,” Bear said. “Marc’s going to prison, but if I were him, I’d watch my back. Let’s change the subject. Has anyone seen Dick Densmore?” “He’s decided to spend winters with his kids in Seattle,” Chuck said. “Said he was too old for this fifty-below foolishness.” “At least he’s safe,” Bear said. “I’ve been worried about him ever since he disappeared.” “Hey, shall we have a toast?” John said. “To good friends, old and new.” He smiled at Emily, Tom, and Jennifer. “Hear, hear,” Chuck said as everyone touched glasses and then drank. “I’ll help you get the food on the table,” Emily said to Chuck, not unhappy about a chance to stand rather than sit. But Bear put a hand on her forearm. “Just a minute. I have something I want to say.” She gazed into his eyes, waiting. Everyone was quiet. “I have one more present for you, Emily. Here it is.” He handed her a small wrapped box, and her

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heart leaped inside her. Mary said, “Oh, boy, I bet I know what that is.” “You know,” John said to her, “sometimes I think you need regular spankings, too.” Mary shook her head vigorously. “Too?” said Tom and Jennifer, while Emily blushed deeply. “Inside joke,” she said as she opened the box. A small but gorgeous emerald, flanked by two rubies and set in gold, sparkled inside. “Bear? Is this—?” Her mouth had turned dry as sandpaper. He took the ring and slipped it on her left hand. “It was my mother’s. She loved Christmas—that’s why the stones are rubies and emerald, red and green. My father over-nighted it to me last week. He wants to meet you, Em.” Bear cleared his throat. “I kind of got the cart before the horse, putting the ring on your finger. Hell, Em, will you marry this bonehead who’s mucking up your proposal?” Mary and Jennifer squealed. Everyone applauded as Emily clutched Bear’s shoulders and kissed him hard. “Yes, Bear, yes.” He moved his lips to her ear, whispering so that only she could hear him. “No imported furniture. Deal?” In answer, she whispered back, “I don’t promise to obey.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. Bear grinned. “Excuse us. Please start eating without us,” he said, pulling Emily after him, heading for the stairs. As they climbed together, he cupped her bottom, saying, “You’re going to obey, even if I have to spank you till my hand falls off.” He slapped her bottom hard. Emily said, “I love you, Bear.”

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