Cotton Grass Lodge Read Online Free PDF

him quickly. He slept without dreaming.
    Early the next morning, Duncan woke to the quiet. A breeze whistling through a crack in the almost open window sounded like the distant roar of a freeway. Occasionally the loose tarp on the roof snapped. He snuggled further under the down comforter and wished the fire would magically start itself. A full bladder convinced him to get up. The cold floor shocked his bare feet, and he slipped them, sockless, into the worn-out shearling slippers. His inappropriate shoes were still down stairs drying. Hell, when Carl said casual he didn’t explain. Casual here meant hardcore outdoor gear on steroids, lug soles, and down jackets.
    No wonder Hanna made fun of him. Now, there was a piece of work. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met. Fresh scrubbed face, rough hands, she didn’t walk, she seized each step. She was—what was she? Solid, but who could tell for sure under all those layers? Brown Carhartts snugged across her backside, and the ragged unhemmed edges of the legs looked as if she’d used a serrated knife to hack them off at the right length.
    Nothing like Victoria. The Amazing Victoria. The woman his mother had handpicked for him to spend his life with. Duncan couldn’t help remembering the scene at dinner three nights ago, or was it four?
    The evening hadn’t started well. “Mother, please, stop playing matchmaker for me,” Duncan had said.
    “Duncan, you simply must commit to this girl. She won’t wait forever you know. She’s perfect.”
    “Yes, Mother, I know she’s perfect. I like Vic, but we stopped dating in college. I haven’t even seen her since Christmas. Please, I just want to enjoy this meal with the two of you. I haven’t seen you in a month. I’ve made some decisions I want to tell to you about.”
    Pamela Mahoney had patted him on the cheek. “It’s nice to see you too, dear. With your new project right here in San Francisco, we’ll be able to have these little dinners more often.”
    “Right. About the project.” Duncan had twisted his glass, watching the ice float, unmoving in the tawny liquid. “One of the reasons I wanted to see you this evening has to do with this California project.
    “John’s death made me think about my life, the direction of my future. Carl has proposed a business venture I find very interesting right now.”
    His mother had glanced up and feigned surprise, “Oh, look who’s here.” She’d smiled warmly across the elegant dining room and watched the maître d’ guide Victoria, the caricature of her perfect daughter-in-law, toward them. Duncan could even see his mother’s vision of petite, perfect grandchildren dancing along behind.
    “Mom?” Duncan had lost his appetite. He turned in exasperation toward his father. “Dad.”
    Paul Mahoney had raised his empty glass toward a passing waiter. “Accept your fate my boy.”
    Duncan picked up his own glass, drained it, and raised it as well. “I’ve quit my job with Regent. I’m moving to Alaska. Carl and I bought a lodge. I’ll run it for the next six months, and we’ll sell it next year.”
    After his mother’s gasp of indignation, it had been a long, blurry evening, and successful too, apparently. They still hadn’t returned his calls.
    He’d been rude to Victoria, and he truly was sorry. She’d simply accepted a dinner invitation. On the other hand, she had to know what his mother had planned.
    Duncan crept out the door and down the landing onto the stairs. The orange tabby he’d met last night was curled on the hearth and immediately came across the living room to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. Duncan didn’t much like cats. This one stalked into the kitchen and paced expectantly in a tight circle. A rumbling purr all but echoed into the room.
    Duncan passed through the kitchen toward the back door. The cat rubbed his chin against the corner of the cabinets.
    Duncan said quietly, “I’m still a guest, leave me alone.” When he returned