Proceed With Caution

by Cherime MacFarlane, C. MacFarlane

Genres: Small-town Romance; 20th Century Romance

Synopsis

He has a good job and is handsome, what would he want with her?
Number 1 Listopia's Set In Alaska
Sweet multicultural, multiracial romance
Nancy has been anything but cautious. Running off to Alaska with a man and investing all her savings in a piece of land where the temperature drops to -40 in winter is foolhardy. When the man dumps her and escapes to warmer climes, it reinforces what she suspects; she always picks losers. Where does Ray fit in?
Ramon, Ray to his coworkers at Pump Station 12, a single father once burned, decides Nancy is sweet, pretty and a hard worker, just the woman he wants. A lingering problem has Nancy calling an end to their relationship. A cranky moose and a good friend try to intervene in this sweet tale of pipeline days in rural Alaska circa 1970s.

Release date: December 22, 2013

Publisher: Paper Gold Publishing

Print pages: 214

Content advisory: clean romance

Sample

 

The unbelievably crowded bar made her later than usual. When she finished all the side work and could leave, the truck didn’t want to start. Only ten degrees below zero, it should have cooperated. Instead, it took three tries and a lot of pumping of the accelerator before it caught. If she had to stay late again, or the temperature dropped any lower, the boss would have to give her a place to plug the pickup in.

At least this one had a block heater on it. If they could just keep up the payments on the pickup, she could keep on working. The truck made cooling off noises, tinging, as it sat in the driveway. She really should get out of the truck and into the house. But it felt so good to be off her feet; Nancy didn't want to move.

With a sigh, she opened the door of the truck. Freezing air rushed into the cab. Nancy shivered slightly as she climbed out of the driver's door. Before she could get into the warmth of the house, she had to plug the truck in, or there would be no starting it tomorrow. The weather report said a cold front was moving in, and there was no telling how low the temperature would drop.

With her gloves on, she plugged the block heater into the extension cord and walked around the truck to the front door of the cabin. Once in the Arctic entry, Nancy pushed the main door of the cabin open and realized the interior was far cooler than it should be. It appeared Dave had gone to bed without stoking the wood stove. One too many beers maybe.

"Hey! Honey, did you forget to stoke the stove?" She called out to her boyfriend who had probably passed out in the loft bedroom.

There was no response. "Damn!" She muttered.

Her purse hit the sofa with a thud as she went over to the big barrel stove. Yanking the door open, she eyed the interior and found there were only a few live coals. Working quickly, Nancy got kindling, some cardboard and split wood into the firebox of the nearly dead stove.

After opening both drafts completely, she moved into the kitchen area to look for something to eat while waiting for the wood to catch. On the counter lay a sheet of paper. Holding it up to the light, she read it.

Sorry baby. This isn’t working for me. I thought I would be able to live out here, but I don't think I can take more of this cold. Hitched a ride into Anchor Town with someone. I'm gone. I love you baby but this doesn't ring my chimes. Don't hate me too much Nance. Love, Dave.

Nancy wadded the note up into a ball and threw it as hard as she could across the room. "It doesn't 'ring your chimes.' You bastard. You drug me out here. You wanted to live out in the bush. You miserable cowardly snake bastard!" Nancy screamed. She moaned as she pounded her fist on the counter. "What do I do now? What am I going to do?"

The wood stove howled its song called feed me. Hurrying over to the barrel stove, Nancy opened the door. The splits of firewood clanged against the metal sides of the stove as she tossed in enough wood to keep it going for the night. After shutting both dampers, Nancy sat heavily on the sofa.