Page 204 of Track of Courage

“So, what are you doing in Alaska?” he asked. “Besides fixing snowmobiles and taking care of my dog?”

Speaking of, the animal had gotten up, walked with him to the coffeepot and back, and now sat again, behind him, alert to the room. “Seems like the dog is taking care of you.”

He glanced at him. “Yeah. He does that. I don’t know why.” He reached out and petted the animal behind the ear.

And maybe it was the gesture or the warmth of the room, the sense that here, maybe her secrets didn’t have to feel so bruising, so raw and naked.

She took a breath. “I was looking for my mom.”

He raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her coffee. Perfect. She’d just ignore the inner Goldie raising an eyebrow at the sugar intake.

“Your mom?”

“My biological mom,” she added. “I was adopted, and when my mom—the one who raised me—was dying, she told me about the woman who’d given me away.” She hated saying it like that, but it felt that way sometimes. Even if doing so had saved her life. “My bio mom was a cop in Chicago. She worked undercover in the gangs division, with a partner—my bio dad. Apparently, they were made and my bio dad was killed. My mom was pregnant, so she went into hiding ... anyway, when I was born, she gave me to my parents. My dad—the one who raised me—was my uncle, on my bio dad’s side. He was a cop in Minneapolis. She thought that I’d be safer with him. I guess she thought the gang wouldn’t stop tracking her. So, Vic gave me away and disappeared in Alaska.”

“Vic, from the Midnight Sun Saloon? She’s your mom?” His voice lowered.

She shrugged. “Yep.”

“Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”

“You know her?”

“Everybodyknows her. She’s like ... well, the backbone of Copper Mountain. Has been running the Midnight Sun Saloon for as long as I can remember. Rumors said she’d been a cop in the Lower 48, but no one knows much about her. Not even her last name.”

“It’s Dalton. I had dinner at the Midnight Sun a couple nights ago, hoping to talk to her. I bought dinner and some pie, and ... completely chickened out.”

He made a wry face. “Sorry. What happened?”

“I don’t know ... I just thought...” She blew out a breath. “What if...” And now she made a face.

He softened his voice. “She rejects you, after all this time.”

She nodded.

“So, why even come here? Why try to meet her?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Maybe it didn’t matter. She let the silence sit between them. She didn’t know him well enough for the rest. And frankly, she wanted him to like her. For now.

She had no illusions that their little holiday friendship would shatter when they hit civilization. Because even if she did get ahold of Goldie, it would only take a fan, a TikTok, or even a social media post for the press to wake up to the fact that superstar pop singer and actress Bliss had wandered into Alaska.

Which would bring more questions and maybe even answers, and any Hallmark magic this place possessed would vanish under the bright, hot lights of her fame. So, “I just wanted to know who she was, and if there was any of me in her.” That felt vulnerable enough.

He met her eyes. “I think you should give her the chance to meet you, Keely. I don’t know you well, but from what I see,there’s plenty of Vic in you,” Dawson said. “Tough, smart, capable ... I think probably you shouldn’t leave Alaska without another go at getting what you came for.”

She looked back at him then, the kind tilt of his smile. It occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, he was the kind of guy to write a song about.

And suddenly she wondered ... just what had she come to Alaska looking for?

Tinkerbellwas Vic’s daughter.

Vic Dalton, who could wrestle a polar bear away from a beer and throw him out into the snow if she had to. Yeah, he hadn’t seen that coming, not from her petite frame, the aura of city that radiated off Keely. But she’d been tough enough and survived a plane crash and sure, he could see a steely thread, a strength inside her.

Huh.

“We have one set of the nickel alloy plugs.” Griffin’s voice. He emerged from a room inside the machine barn. “And a socket wrench.”

The blizzard still howled, but in the machine shed, lit by kerosene lanterns and battery-powered lights, Donald and a couple other men, along with Dawson and Griffin, attempted to fix the broken sleds.