Woman Inside

By Cherime MacFarlane

A second chance Alaska romance.

Trudy worked full time and a major side hustle to get enough money for her own slice of the American dream, land. Not just a box she slapped money down on, but acreage. Only problem, it's in interior Alaska, where the temperature can fall below minus 25. Her next-door neighbor doesn't think this cheechako will make it without a man. Trudy has no choice, there is no backup plan.

Deak has problems of his own. His wife died in an accident and he can't move forward. Still, something about his new neighbor is appealing. Maybe it's the dark hair she can't seem to keep tamed that has his fingers itching.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherime MacFarlane
• Release date: Apr 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393818519

Cherime MacFarlane

Meet Award-Winning, Best-Selling Author Cherime MacFarlane. A prolific multi-genre author, she has a broad range of interests that reflect her been there-done that life. Romance, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, all sorts of characters and plots evolve from a vivid imagination. As a reporter for the Copper Valley Views, Cherime MacFarlane received a letter of commendation from the Copper River Native Association for fair and balanced reporting. She was part of the Amazon Best Selling in Anthologies and Holidays, and Fantasy Anthologies and Short Stories. The Other Side of Dusk was a finalist in the McGrath house award of 2017.

Book preview

Prologue

A bouquet of flowers Description automatically generated with medium confidence

The game seems to remain the same no matter what you do. And I don’t think I’m talking out of turn for the rest of the women I know. One gain is met with two knocks back. Men have the upper hand and are not going to let go.

A huge irritation for me, and some other women, are the sellouts. We’ve all seen and heard the submissive little darlings, mealy-mouthed twits, extoling how wonderful it is to be controlled by some big alpha dude. They sure whine out of the other side of their mouths when that wonderful male takes it elsewhere. Poor, picked on little darlings often find themselves left for a younger, prettier one a little tighter in a place the old alpha has a yen for.

What can a woman do about it? Other than going full-on over to the other side sexually, not a hell of a lot. That is, unless you start young. If you’ve had the good fortune to be brought up by a strong woman, you may have a shot. Your chances increase if Dad didn’t discriminate between the boys and girls. Still, you’re up against the wall—forget the glass ceiling—it’s a fucking box and we’re in it.

Where is this diatribe headed, you may ask? To the most outlandish thing I have ever done. Told the boss I wasn’t going to be the patsy for his favorite bros. They could do the work on their own; they didn’t need my help. Get some other poor person to work for shit wages and never get a promotion.

I had already sold or given away damn near everything. I’d taken the last tax return, piddly as it was, and managed to put a down payment on ten acres in eastern Alaska. An estate sale, I got pictures of the cabin and the surrounding land. The car went next and the cat to a friend. I’d send for Peanut when I could.

Nasty as it was, I stiffed the landlord. He had the last month’s rent already. I’d been clean enough while living in his dump, not that it mattered. He’d find a reason to keep that as well. A backpack and one suitcase went to the airport with me.

I kinda knew what I was in for. The cabin didn’t look as good as it could. Some reading told me I’d better buy clothes up there. A few second-hand jeans, long sleeved shirts for the heavy work, two good pairs of boots for winter and summer, and a heavy coat. A truck, something with four wheel drive, topped my list of must buys.

The chainsaw bothered me. I’d heard a bunch of stuff about how hard they were to manage and starting one was a big deal. Keeping it from slicing you to bits was a bigger deal yet. I could use a little electric one for around the cabin. Thank heavens, it had electricity.

With no running water and a little propane stove, I’d be hauling both. The realtor had given me the talk. He tried to convince me I couldn’t handle the place. I’m stubborn. With everything sold, every penny I had in my bank account, I boarded the plane.

The realtor doubted my will. I sure as hell hoped he was wrong. I planned to thrive, not just survive. Why couldn’t a woman make it on her own in Alaska? The place was on a road, sort of. How the hell hard could it be?

This was it. Time to prove to myself who the woman inside was.

Chapter One

A bouquet of flowers Description automatically generated with medium confidence

This was the biggest airport in all Alaska? Butter me and call me a biscuit. For real? I avidly watched the plane come in over Anchorage. From the looks of things, the town had nowhere left to go but up. Surrounded by water on three sides and tucked against mountains on the fourth, some houses climbed the foothills.

Anchorage wasn’t all that big. You could fit it into the place I’d just left at least a couple of times. Maybe two and a half. Sitting on a point of land at the head of Cook Inlet, it’s a deep water port, although not ice free in the winter.

I did my homework; Valdez is the northernmost ice-free port and was used by the ships carrying crude from the Alaska Pipeline. North of Valdez was my destination on a gravel road called The Old Edgerton Highway.

I had a truck to buy, but I would get to that tomorrow. The realtor advised me to budget at least three days in Anchorage to stock up for the next month. I had a list he’d emailed me and helpful hints where to get all the supplies.

As soon as the taxi dropped me at the hotel, I got inside and let my realtor know I’d made it. A couple of emails to my friends and I could settle in. Or not. With the sun still high in the sky, the realtor told me to enjoy all the hours of daylight while they were here. I got a taxi and decided to rack up a few miles.

Tomorrow, I might be so busy I wouldn’t have time to look around. When the taxi driver proposed taking me to the biggest mall in the state, I chuckled under my breath. If this was it, well... I’d be doing some shopping online.

Hey, you a tourist? the driver asked.

Nope. I’m moving up here.

Got a job lined up?

No, I’m doing some online stuff. I bought a place out near Copper Center.

Copper Center? That’s one cold hole. I bet you won’t last through the end of December before you’re running back to the Lower 48.

I didn’t want to put up with a minute more of his bullshit. His judgmental assessment of me as a woman was the very thing I wanted away from. Look. Drop me off here and I’ll get another taxi. I don’t need your shit. Since I’m paying for this ride, I want someone who can keep their mouth shut.

Screw you, bitch. You’re not going to make it up here.

I’m done. I eyed the cab’s ID number and made a note in my phone. When I got a new service, one that worked here, I planned to report his ass. I realized Alaska was an alpha male haven. Still, he could be civil. If not, the man had no business driving a cab.

He fumed the entire time I worked to pay my fare with the debit card. Under his breath, he bitched about uppity broads, which made me smile. I’d answer to that one, no problem. I sure hoped he didn’t expect a tip.

Inside the mall, I located security, explained the situation, and got them to call another cab. I specifically asked for someone other than the jerk who’d just dropped me off. I got that there wasn’t a bunch of choice in this small town. Tomorrow, first thing I needed was my own wheels, and then a new phone company. A little trickier since the realtor made a point of telling me not all cell providers worked in the Copper Basin.

The good thing about Anchorage being small and squished between the ocean and the mountains, distances between stores was shorter. The bad thing—traffic. Cars were everywhere and filled with aggressive drivers, for the most part.

This cabbie stepped up and knew how to behave with a customer. I asked if somehow he could meet me in the morning, and I would hire him for the entire day. When he questioned me about what I had in mind, I gave him the spiel.

Tell you what, if you don’t mind my wife riding along, I can take the day off and we can buzz around in my car. That work?

Yes, please. If I find a truck, do you know a mechanic I can take it to and get it checked out?

Sure. Let me give you my cell number. I’ll swing by and pick you up about nine. That be okay?

Better than okay. Suits me.

We got back to the hotel out by the airport and he pulled up into a parking space. What’s your name?

After a moment’s hesitation, I decided on giving him my real name. The pen name I planned to use for my new career didn’t need to go any further than my computer right now. Trudy Metz, Tru to my friends and I’m thinking you land in that column.

He grinned at me. David Sam. His hand came between the seats for a shake. Nice to meet you, Tru. You can put the number in your phone if you want.

The grin dissolved and he raised both eyebrows when I grunted. I don’t have a carrier with coverage in the Copper River basin. Another thing I need to do in the morning.

Don’t worry about it, kiddo. I’ll be here in the morning with the wifie. Around nine start looking for a beat up older pickup green with a black passenger side door in front. It’s a crew cab, so there’ll be plenty of room for anything you may need to get.

Ah... I’m not trying to be nosy or anything... are you Asian?

Nope. I’m Inupiat from up north. The wife has a few medical problems so it’s better if we stay in Anchor Town. We’re close to the Alaska Native Medical Center that way. It’s a long flight to town if something happens.

I’m sorry to hear your wife is sick.

He shrugged. She’s alive and likely to stay that way as long as she takes good care of herself. Living in town isn’t a bunch of fun, but sometimes you need to bite the bullet and that’s all there is to it. David hit the back of the seat with one hand. Okay. See you in the morning. Oh, and you don’t mind if we do a little shopping for us?

Not at all.

Tell you what, since we have a Costco card, we’ll take you shopping and get you set up for bush living once we get a truck to put it in. See you tomorrow.

I felt so damn lucky to have drawn David’s cab. The other guy almost put me off Alaskans. David Sam restored my faith in my dream.

A picture containing text Description automatically generated

By the time afternoon rolled around, I had reason to be doubly thankful for David and his gentle wife. Dottie didn’t say a lot. She nodded in agreement with David and smiled often. Once or twice, she disagreed with something he said, which earned him a light slap on the shoulder.

Who knew finding a truck in Anchorage would be such a hassle? It sure as hell was. Not to mention the price. Honestly, finding one I could afford was the real problem, but David came through. A friend of a friend had an older Dodge for sale. After about an hour of back and forth, looking at the engine, checking the oil and anti-freeze, David declared it good.

A little haggling later, I owned the green meanie. A green body and front end, it had a matte black hood. David told me that would help a lot when the snow came down so thick you could barely see—no glare.

A 4 X 4, it had a winch that worked and a trailer hitch in the back. The bed had been replaced with a flat bed and homemade stake sides. With an extra fifty gallon tank in the very front of the bed and a hand pump, I could fill my green meanie and drive almost all the way across Alaska. Dottie declared it a homesteader model for sure.

That accomplished, we went grocery shopping. With no way to lock all the stuff up, the Sams took me to a security lot used by folks when taking long trips. A tarp over everything reduced visibility and the security people patrolled the lot all the time. Come morning, David would pick me up in the taxi, take me to the truck and I would leave for Glennallen. I couldn’t wait.

Chapter Two

A bouquet of flowers Description automatically generated with medium confidence

I rolled into Glennallen around 11 a.m. A tiny spot in the road, it had two banks, a couple of gas stations, and what looked like two restaurants. I wasn’t sure about the little one by one of the gas stations being open; it was. I wanted something quick and they delivered.

After a good filling meal, it was time to hunt down the realtor. In a town where just about everything was on one side of the road or the other, I had no trouble. I turned over the balance of the cash, grabbed the key, and was on my way. Home, my own bought and paid for place, coming up.

My stomach fluttered when I made the turn on the Old Edgerton Highway. Equal parts anticipation and anxiety took hold of me. A lot of work needed to be done on the old place to make it livable before winter set in. My fingers beat a tattoo on the wheel.

Then, there it was—a hunk of pink plastic streamer tied to a tree. After slowing to a crawl, I made the turn in the driveway. The realtor hadn’t lied. I could use a few loads of gravel. What I drove over now was mostly dirt. I wondered what would happen when it rained. Would the drive be one long expanse of mud? Not a pleasant thought.

One sharp turn and I could see my new home. The clearing needed clearing again. Baby spruce trees and brush were all over the place. But the cabin looked intact. My realtor swore the roof didn’t leak, but said the logs needed chinking. The last and original owner of the old place had put up sheets of what he called OSB, Oriented Strand Board, inside. If I believed the man, I should take it all out and chink the logs again.

The first thing I needed to dig out of the stuff I’d bought was a screwdriver. The door and windows were covered with what looked to be sheets of plywood only made from tiny scraps of wood. I’d looked it up on the internet and had my first up close and personal look at OSB. The realtor and I were in agreement—it would come down.

I hoped the logs inside looked halfway decent. Then again, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The logs on the outside of the cabin had turned a silvery-gray over the years and they were beautiful. The pipe for the wood stove which poked out of the roof seemed to lean a little. I understood checking it would be first before I even attempted to light the stove. Tomorrow for that chore.

I had time before the nights got cool enough to make the stove a necessity, which brought up the matter of wood to heat with. Supposedly, a woodshed sat behind the cabin with a few cords ready to burn. Another thing to check out.

The padlock on the front door appeared ancient, but it opened with no trouble. The old wood door made of smaller logs milled on two sides creaked when I opened it, but seemed sturdy enough.

Leaving it open to air the place out, I got busy with the screwdriver. The sheets of wood covering the windows outside had to be handled with care. They all had large nails facing me. If I weren’t careful and raked my skin across the sharp points, I’d be bloody before the things came off. I understood the spikes were supposed to deter bears from getting inside.

The realtor said there were four to take off the windows. A kitchen window which faced west, the one on the east side, and two on either side of the door. The loft bedroom had a window on the west side and that was it. High enough to not be bothered by bears, it didn’t have any protection.

As careful as I tried to be, one of the nails scraped across my forearm, making me glad I’d made sure to get a tetanus shot before leaving for Alaska. There was a clinic in Glennallen, but it was forty miles away. The small wound would remind me to take care out here. One down, I dragged it back behind the cabin to the shed.

On my way past the woodshed, I got a good look at my heating fuel and wasn’t happy. There wasn’t much there. Either the realtor lied, or someone had sticky fingers. No matter, it was another chore I’d have to see about getting done before winter set in.

With the wood off the windows, I finally got a good look at the interior. Every wall but the one with the kitchen shelves and the sink was covered in the same stuff I’d just taken off the windows. The logs in the kitchen area could use a good scrubbing. I had a feeling the man who originally built this place and lived here for thirty years must have smoked at least a pack of cigarettes a day. The logs had that dingy, brownish look to them.

Who the hell are you?

The deep voice spun me around. A man stood under the porch overhang. A big dog sat on its haunches next to him.

I swallowed. Was he the neighbor the realtor told me about? He and the last tenants had spent the entire time they rented the cabin in a huge pissing match. He swore they were thieves and the young couple said he couldn’t keep his nose out of other people’s business. I didn’t want to get on the bad side of this man.

Hand out, I walked toward him. Trudy Metz. I’m the new owner. Nice to meet you.

Everything seemed to stand still for an instant. After an almost imperceptible hesitation, his hand came out to take mine in a firm grip. Rough skin enveloped my fingers for an instant before falling away. The calluses caused my skin to tingle.

Deacon Davis. Deak... I’m your next door neighbor. As next door as it gets out here. Timms did stop by and say he sold the place. Is your husband... or ... whatever coming along later?

Deak had already given the cabin the onceover and knew I was in here alone. Why did he think I had a man stashed... oh. It’s just me. No significant other involved. I’m it.

He shook his head as if maybe he had something in his ears and hadn’t heard me right. You’re taking this place on alone? Didn’t Timms tell you the condition it’s in? You can probably get your money back if you get on it right now.

I don’t want my money back. Timms was forthright about the work needing done.

His jaw worked before he spoke, spitting the first word out then biting it off. Fucking... ah—hell and damnation. Woman, you are out of your ever-loving mind if you think you can get this place in shape for winter on your own.

I don’t have any choice. Everything I have is sunk into this property. I’m living in it one way or the other.

"Another fucking cheechako! His nostrils flared. You’d better get your ass back to Glennallen, find Timms, and get out of this. Without another person to help you, you aren’t going to make it in time for winter. Hell, those asshole thieves stole the last of the wood. Have you even looked at the woodshed? You don’t have enough for two damn days, let alone eight months of winter."

Leaving isn’t a viable option. Anger spiked through my system. Another damn alpha male trying to tell me what I could and couldn’t do. I wasn’t dumb. I understood how difficult this would be. I’d hoped to hire help. With the school shut down for summer, there must be a kid or two out there needing to make a few bucks.

Still, this man was my neighbor. Curling my