No wonder you’re so happy here.”
“Now,” Frankie heard Caz whisper to JJ, “now, they finally see her clearly.”
Birgit pursed her lips. “You actually found a guy who has no intention of being part of Bocelli’s.”
Mama made an appalled sound, then sighed. A sigh of acceptance.
Bull only laughed. “I like to think that I found her, and I’m doing my best to convince her to stay here.” His voice dropped, and he cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze to his dark eyes. “Ms. Bocelli, I’ll follow you to New York if I have to, but I’m pretty convinced you’d be happier here in Alaska.”
He’d move to New York to be with her? She stared at him, seeing the firm line of his mouth, the set of his jaw. The honesty.
He’d go with her, even though he belonged here in Alaska.
She belonged here, too. This was her place.
Eyes filling with tears, she saw Gabe starting to smile, Audrey beaming. Caz nodded at her, and JJ grinned because they knew her decision without her speaking.
Because they knew her. They saw her.
They were her family.
And Bull was her man. She looked up at him, into eyes the color of the darkest sky. “I love you. And I belong here.”
“Yeah, you do.” He leaned down, forehead against hers, and whispered. “Here, with me.”
Epilogue
Where thou art, that is home. ~ Emily Dickinson
In the kitchen at the roadhouse, Frankie sucked down a glass of soda. Caffeinated soda, because she totally needed it. What a day.
This morning, Kit had moved into the rehab hospital. Progress. Frankie had taken in clothing and books and anything she could think of that her friend might need. Kit had been exhausted and in pain, but the stubborn woman refused to take pain meds unless she was in agony.
Somehow, Hawk had anticipated the problem and said he’d take Aric to visit tomorrow when Kit wouldn’t be stressed.
Poor Aric. He was still whispering and hiding whenever he made any noise. Or anytime there was the least upset—like when Bull had dropped a pot, it’d taken an hour to find Aric, who’d holed up under a bed.
Hawk planned to take him out more often. In fact, the two planned to pop into the roadhouse tonight and take a dessert back to the Hermitage. She’d watch for them so Aric would have someone he knew.
Her soda finished, Frankie set the glass down, then checked her hair. Her old-fashioned braid-coronet was more suited to a date night than work, but her Hermitage girl-gang had wanted to learn the style Nonna had taught her. Regan was going to a birthday party and sleep-over at her bestie’s house. JJ and Audrey had dates planned with their men. So, they’d had a girls’ hour before Frankie came to work.
Frankie smiled. Regan was such an appealing mixture of intelligent and innocent and sturdily practical. Audrey was brilliant and sweet. JJ was the voice of reason and the one who balanced them all out.
They were becoming good friends.
On her way to work, Frankie had dashed off to Bull’s house—her house, too—while answering a call from Birgit.
It was the first time she’d heard from her sister since her family returned to New York. Honestly, that night at the restaurant, they’d been almost as shell-shocked as the PZs were after Mako’s sons dealt with them. Yet, at the airport, they seemed pleased she’d found Bull and was happy.
She cried when she sent them off.
Today, though, Birgit whined that Frankie’s replacement wasn’t good enough and never would be. So, Frankie said since the replacement wasn’t up to the job, someone in the family should take over. Since Birgit was the youngest…
It was the fastest end to a phone call on record.
“What’re you laughing about, Ms. Boss?” Felix called from where he was waiting for a platter of nachos.
“I was—”
Shouting came from outside the kitchen, then a crash.
Crashes were bad, very bad.
Frankie hurried out and into the barroom. “No, no, no.”
A fight, in her bar. A broken chair lay on a crushed barstool with a short, stocky man sprawled beside the mess.
Gabe punched a bearded blond man who stank like dead fish, then shoved a lanky rat-nosed one at JJ.
So many people—did they bring an entire fish camp here to brawl?
Yelling, a barrel-chested, bald man raised a chair, planning to hit JJ from behind, then staggered back with a knife in his shoulder.
Caz, seriously?
When a thickset man with a receding chin lunged for Gabe, a heavy mug bounced off the guy’s forehead. Mr. No Chin landed