One Big Family (Hot Alaska Nights Book 1) Read online

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  One Big Family

  (Hot Alaska Nights Book 1)

  Aiden Bates

  Important information…

  This book, “One Big Family” is the First book in the Hot Alaska Nights Series. However, this book and every other book in the series can be read as a stand-alone. Thus, it is not required to read the first book to understand the second (as so on). Each book can be read by itself.

  Important information…

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Preview (Silver Oak Medical Center Book 1): Deliver Me

  Chapter One

  He flung the curtains wide open; blinding white and breathtaking blue spilled in through the window.

  Up in the nearby mountains, fresh snow gleamed in the sunshine like a blanket made of flawless diamonds. The sky almost hurt his eyes, surreally blue, but maybe that was just because it had been a drab pale-gray since Zachary’s arrival. His eyes caught movement in the air, gulls and birds of prey, no doubt enjoying the sun’s warmth on their expansive wings. He would track them down later. Zachary’s nose was pressed against the window like a child’s. It was one of the famed few sunny days in Stellar, Alaska, and it was glorious.

  Zachary was almost itching with excitement at the chance to get outside. He’d arrived two days earlier via a tiny, shivering plane, and upon landing, his guide told him that the weather was about to turn; they had to hurry to the hotel. Once safely indoors, the snow began to fall within the hour, and Zachary hadn’t left the hotel—which really was a misnomer—since his arrival. He was starting to get cabin fever. But now, surely, he’d be able to stretch his legs in the beautiful, albeit very cold, outdoors.

  Ken’s accommodations were very comfortable and very clean—more so than many of the five-star hotels he’d stayed in during his travels—but the interior decoration left something to be desired. The carpet was a 1990s mauve, the bedspread a hideous floral with huge yellow hibiscus flowers on a forest-green background, and the framed prints on the walls were of scenes of Paris. It was as if the proprietor stuffed what she could fit into a bag at a flea market clearance sale. None of it really made sense together, but at least he wasn’t worried about getting athlete’s foot in the shower, and the mattress was fantastic. Plus there was a full-size, if modest, kitchen. Considering how often he was on the road, it was a real treat to skip the fast food and be able to make a simple meal in his own room. Despite the rather awful and outdated décor, he planned on giving the accommodations a rave review.

  The “hotel” was actually part of a twelve-story multipurpose building that housed hundreds of yearlong and seasonal Stellar residents, as well as every necessity and comfort that they might need during “snow days”—when the unforgiving winter cold kept them trapped inside for days . . . or even weeks. There was a small grocery that carried enough dry goods and powdered milk to feed several armies; a café that served home-cooked meals and renowned sandwiches; a three-room, three-teacher school that taught grades pre-k through twelve (currently with about fifty students of all ages); various governmental offices, including the Stellar mayor’s (he also lived in the building); a nondenominational church that had all Christian, Jewish, and Hindu needs covered; a slightly obsolete gym; a clinic staffed by a resident nurse-practitioner and which brought in a doctor once a week as well as a monthly dentist; a hair stylist; and even a basketball court in the basement.

  In the top two floors of the building was the “hotel”—twenty condominium units of various sizes that could be rented like normal hotel rooms. It was the only hotel in the small town, population 327, half of which lived in the building. During the summer months, the population of both the town and the hotel almost doubled when the seasonal residents came back to enjoy the beautiful summer months.

  The building was known as Stellar Landing, and it was where photographer Zachary Kelso now found himself. He worked for National Geographic and was here to record the famous springtime bird migration that caused Alaska’s shoreline skies to burst into color and movement. The delay due to the weather gave him a chance to explore the unusual building and get to know some of its charming residents.

  Like his room on the twelfth floor, the interior of the rest of Stellar Landing left much to be desired. It had an institutional look to it, bland walls with unfortunate flooring and art choices. The building was at least fifty years old, and it seemed as if there hadn’t been many cosmetic improvements since then. But when Zachary stood in front of a window in his room or at the end of a hallway, all of that faded away: the scenery was awe-inspiring. He almost appreciated the lack of decoration, because it made him respect the outdoor setting so much more.

  Once he settled into his room, his first stop was at the small grocery on the ground floor. The older man that owned and ran the store introduced himself as Carl. He wore a beat-up leather hat and had a thick silver beard with black streaks; his massive silver brows were expressive. He looked like the kind of gruff Grizzly Adams-type that you might come across in the backwoods of Alaska, but he was actually a sweet Scandinavian guy who moved to the States with his wife in the 70s, became a citizen in the 80s, and then retired to Alaska in 2005 after she passed. He owned one of the small condos above and bought the grocery store when the previous owner decided to head back to civilization. Zachary browsed his selection of canned vegetables and soups, boxes of Stovetop Stuffing and assorted breakfast cereals. Vitamins, shampoo, paper towels, and toilet paper were stocked along one wall. There were plenty of snack foods and candies in a section that seemed to be especially for the kids. Zachary peeked into a refrigerator that only held some wilting carrots and several jars of powdered probiotics, as well as some overpriced homemade jams.

  “I don’t get much fresh produce during the winter,” Carl explained. “What I do get, goes fast. But those carrots would make a nice stock! Half price. And be sure to stop by on Mondays when Gladys sells her homemade pies and cakes.”

  The freezer held more options, with meats from a local butcher wrapped neatly in white paper and marked with a black wax crayon. There was bee
f, pork, venison, and bear, as well as seafood. Zachary wondered about the bear, but instead grabbed a package of bacon and a bag of shrimp for later.

  The prices were rather high, but Zachary figured that the residents likely stocked up on things like toilet paper when they made trips into “the city”—there was a Walmart about two hours away.

  Zachary stayed to chat with Carl for a bit longer. There was a stool near the cash register that seemed to be there exactly for that purpose. It was one of Zachary’s favorite parts of his job—getting to know the locals. Carl was an interesting guy and he filled Zachary in on the history of the town and the building.

  Zachary stumbled upon the church on his second day at Stellar Landing, a small, peaceful space with stained glass windows and a few rustic wooden pews. There was no one inside, but a sign told him to “stay and pray,” so he looked around. Another much smaller sign next to the windows told him that a resident had handmade the stained glass, and that she was available for commissions. It was Gladys, the woman who made pies and cakes for the grocery.

  As he was leaving, a middle-aged man with a bald pate and small, wire-rimmed glasses entered.

  “Hey, there! Pastor Mike,” he said, introducing himself with an outstretched hand. Zachary wasn’t big on clergy, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. After a brief conversation about birds and Stellar, Zachary moved on.

  Zachary decided to next check out the library, but on the way, he stopped at a large bulletin board in the hallway, covered with fliers and cards. It seemed that if there was a need or desire that Stellar Landing didn’t officially meet, the residents jumped to the task.

  Hair and Beauty by Gladys, read one card, followed by a phone number and a unit number. Zachary smiled. This Gladys was a Jill of all trades. Zachary imagined she had to be a frumpy but sweet elderly woman, and he couldn’t imagine what kind of out-of-style haircuts she might give.

  Darkroom available by appointment. Give James a call, read another. Zachary snapped a photo of the guy’s number with his phone. He hadn’t planned on developing any film before he headed back home, but it never hurt to know where the closest darkroom was.

  Take part in a scientific study, was another flyer that caught Zachary’s eye. A psychologist was interviewing the residents of Stellar Landing, but the flyer didn’t say why. Intriguing, thought Zachary. He took a snapshot of that flyer, as well. Maybe there was a good story behind it.

  Dance Party on Saturday! screamed a hot pink flyer. Everyone invited! There was a rec room on the ground floor, apparently, and several other flyers mentioned events that took place there: movies, a writing workshop (conducted by Gladys!), yoga, and more.

  There were a few different housekeepers advertising their services, with different specialties. A high school student marketed tutoring for elementary and middle school students, as well as babysitting services. Someone named Aaron was advertising “year-round wilderness tours and kayaking,” and Zachary shivered where he stood. On the water this time of year? Insanity.

  The library was very small, and only held a few hundred books, mostly paperback bestsellers and nature guides specific to the area, but it had five new computers and a decent printer. There were a few shelves of DVDs and Blu-rays. Despite the small size and supply, it still had that old-book smell and the calming atmosphere of its bigger and more traditional library cousins.

  “We have subscriptions to all of the major databases,” the surprisingly young librarian, Celia, told him. “And with a Stellar library card, you can order books from across the state, or check out almost any book you want immediately with an e-reader. We’re small, but we work hard to make sure everyone gets what they need.” There was also a “take one, leave one” book cart for visiting non-residents such as Zachary. He told Celia that he would be back later to exchange the books he had finished on his plane ride to Stellar.

  Thank God for that book cart, Zachary thought now, after two days cooped up inside. He had rediscovered and enjoyed an old Terry Pratchett book from his youth, as well as a memoir by a comedian that he’d never heard of. He had also enjoyed the lively and humorous conversation with the librarian, who, as it turned out, was also a part-time postal employee.

  Largely thanks to Carl and Celia, Zachary’s two pent-up days weren’t completely miserable, but now . . . finally . . . he was leaving the building. He sat in the small atrium at the entrance to the building and waited for a man named Aaron, the very same one who had advertised wilderness tours. Aaron would be showing Zachary around that day, for a reasonable fee.

  The wilderness guide certainly fit the part. He was a very large guy in his mid-thirties, wearing weather-proof boots, pants, jacket and gloves, and as he walked into the atrium with a friendly grin, he tossed a hat and gloves at Zachary.

  “Suit up, gringo,” he said in a booming voice. “Newbies always forget hats and gloves. I’m Aaron.” His grip was very strong and his teeth were very big.

  Zachary took an immediate liking to Aaron. He was the epitome of a gentle giant, who, despite his gruff appearance, loved talking about his beloved wife Denise and his three sons. Even as his well-equipped Jeep expertly threw itself down bumpy roads and narrowly dodged trees and rocks, he quoted Thoreau and Robert Frost. And when the men took their first break, he poured himself hot cocoa instead of the expected black coffee.

  “I’ve never liked the taste,” Aaron almost sheepishly admitted.

  Aaron was such enjoyable company, in fact, that Zachary got more talking done than photos taken, but he had no regrets. The views were astounding, the birds were—as promised—brilliant, and they even saw a mama bear and her cub. Zachary also learned some tips about venturing out solo. As they headed back into town—the sky started to darken at five p.m. and it would take them almost an hour to get back—Aaron gave Zachary solid advice on how he could safely excursion on his own.

  “You can rent a Jeep from Olsen’s across the street. It’ll look like a piece of shit, but the engines are kept in top running condition. But you need to stick to the main roads if you’re goin’ by yourself. Not safe if you didn’t grow up here. Snow and mountains all start to look the same. Once you get to Stellar State Park, you’ll be able to park and hike the trails. Gorgeous out there. Keep the hat and gloves for now, give ‘em back before you leave. When you get closer to the glacier, you’ll feel like your bones are shakin’. Worth it, though. Gorgeous. Gorgeous. Watch out for those bears! The black bears aren’t too bad, but you don’t wanna mess with the grizzlies.”

  Aaron turned and gave Zachary a wink, but Zachary still couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  Regardless, one thing was for sure: Zachary was in for an adventure.

  Chapter Two

  “All right, kids. Listen up. Everyone who follows the directions gets a Kit-Kat. Fold your surveys in half so your answers are private—you can even do it like Cayden here, who’s making a paper airplane—and pass them up. Next we’re going to do a word find. Anyone need to sharpen their pencil before we start? Bathroom break?”

  Despite being something of an introvert, Bastian Byers, PhD, actually enjoyed his time spent working with the young students at Stellar Landing Pre-K-to-12 School. The kids were hilarious and adorable, and they seemed to find the surveys and tests Bastian gave them fun. Perhaps they didn’t even realize that these “games” were real scientific research. Maybe they were just excited to be paid in candy and fruit-scented markers.

  Bastian was conducting a long-term psychological study in connection with the University of Alaska. The setting of Stellar Landing was unique, in that there were very few non-military settings in the developed world where unrelated people were forced to spend so much time together without contact with the outside world, and none as large as this one. At least four times a year, the residents of the large building were kept indoors by the extreme weather for up to ten days at a time, their needs being met by the resources located in the building. How did these unusual conditions affect the individuals
and the group, emotionally and mentally? That’s what Bastian hoped to find out. Perhaps this research would help in the future, if fears of environmental pollution or overcrowding became reality. Sometimes he day-dreamed about his work being used in the distant future to keep moon colonies healthy and happy.

  For now, though, the research was what kept Bastian busy and funded his modest lifestyle. He was content. Mostly. He dodged Cayden’s paper airplane with a grin. That kid could use some Ritalin, he thought to himself.

  Bastian grew up in Florida, one of three alpha boys born into a very nuclear alpha/omega family. His parents loved the Florida lifestyle, playing tennis or golf in the sun every weekend. In high school, both of Bastian’s older brothers were volleyball enthusiasts who belonged to leagues that played on the beach. They were tall, muscular, blond guys who always had toothy smiles and good-looking dates. The home that they grew up in was in Sarasota, one of the sunniest cities around, and they had a pool surrounded by date palms and deck chairs. Neighborhood kids and school chums filled their home every weekend.

  Then there was little Bastian (short for Sebastian), dark of hair and pale of flesh, who squinted against the sun and preferred to stay inside in the air conditioning even as his brothers and their friends splashed in the pool. Bastian was a reader and a contemplator, and his best friend was his mutt of a cat, Raggedy. Raggedy was a petite tortoiseshell gal who didn’t like to be picked up but, left to her own devices, would curl up on quiet Bastian’s lap and purr for hours as he read.

  His parents whispered on the phone to his pediatrician (they didn’t think Bastian could hear them), asking what was wrong with their son. Fortunately, the pediatrician had been a bookish alpha child himself, and he told the parents that Bastian was perfect as he was. The undeniable fact was that Bastian was a happy and healthy alpha boy. Just different.

  Bastian’s brothers followed in their physician alpha-father’s footsteps: One was now a successful medical supply salesman, with a home near the beach in Clearwater, Florida; the other was a sports-medicine doctor who traveled with the University of South Florida basketball team. Both of his brothers had married lovely omega men, and both of them had already started their families. The eldest Byers boy had two kids now, and the middle brother’s husband was pregnant with their first.