What she needed was an uncomplicated tourist. No wedding rings. No cheaters. Several of the locals had asked her out, and while they were nice enough, they came with hitches. Sometimes she had nightmares and she woke herself up screaming. If it was a one-night thing, she could say she had a bad dream and most accepted her story. If she slept with the same man and they learned she suffered lots of nightmares, the questions started.
Renee pushed through the door and spotted two of her fellow pilots sitting at the bar.
The local hangout wasn’t much in the looks department—a rectangle room with worn gray carpet and battered wooden tables with mismatched chairs. Grimy black and white prints of Marilyn Monroe plastered the wall. The owner’s idea of classing up the place. But, with cold beer and tasty bar snacks, the locals called it home away from home.
Renee lifted a hand in greeting and joined the closest friends she had in Churchill. “Hey, guys.”
“Where have you been?” Tim asked. Another Australian, he had surfer-blond, messy hair and a grin that never stopped. His easy-going humor made him popular with everyone, local and tourist alike. Renee liked him because he reminded her of army friends, still on active duty.
“I missed lunch. They had roast chicken at the restaurant, so I ate dinner there. The place is crammed with tourists. It was lucky I got there early. My usual, please,” she said to the barman.
“The reason we came down here.” Charlie grimaced, or at least she suspected he did. He sported a bushy beard that, according to him, kept out the cold. Since most of the local men wore beards, Renee decided there must be truth in Charlie’s assertions.
“What’s the new waitress like?” Tim asked. “I heard she’s from Queensland.”
“Bubbly and friendly,” Renee replied. “I didn’t get her name, but I liked her.”
The bar door opened, and Renee froze, her glass halfway to her mouth. The four men she’d seen earlier entered and sauntered to the bar. Customer chatter and banter ceased for a millisecond while locals sized up the new arrivals. Almost instantly, the din started again and a lanky man with a runner’s build put money in the jukebox. A Celine Dion ballad poured from the speakers a beat later, and Renee, along with Tim, Charlie and the barman, groaned.
“Bother.” Renee rolled her eyes. “If I’d known Billy and Sarah had broken up again, I would’ve stayed home with my audiobook.”
“Can’t you turn it off?” Charlie demanded the barman.
“Unfortunately, no. Hello, gentlemen. What will it be?” the barman asked the new arrivals.
“Four beers,” one of the men replied.
Two men—brothers, Renee decided again—took possession of empty barstools while the other two who looked like mirror images seemed content to stand.
“Draft or bottle?” the barman asked.
“Draft is fine,” the man doing the drink ordering replied.
Score points for the new arrivals. Most tourists were fussy and only drank beer with what Renee called designer labels.
“You here for a polar bear tour?” the barman asked.
The man hesitated. “Yes, but we’re also here in a different capacity. We’re thinking about building a new hotel in Churchill. Something that caters to the luxury market rather than the normal tourist.”
Renee drank her ginger ale and eavesdropped as did her two friends. A fancy hotel might work up here if they targeted the correct market. The Hallsten brothers had built a luxury lodge out on the tundra that took limited guests. For their first season, which would be next year, they’d already invited a select number of guests and photographers wanting a shot of a polar bear mother and her cubs leaving the den. She’d flown out there several times a week during the summer, taking out the Hallsten brothers and different supplies. Yet Churchill was missing the high-class component in the town.
A second ballad started, the singer crooning about broken hearts and torment. Renee pulled a face and drank the last of her soda. She sighed and set her glass on the bar. No warm body to cuddle tonight. “I can’t stand any more of these they-done-me-wrong songs. I’m going home to listen to my audiobook.”
“You got an early shift?” Tim asked.
“No, usual start time.”
Charlie drank his last mouthful of beer. “I’ve had enough of the music too. I’ll walk you to the dorm.”
When they left the bar, Renee did her usual scan of her surroundings.
“It will snow,” Charlie said.
Charlie had spent the last three years working in Churchill, so Renee didn’t doubt his weather forecasting abilities.
“Hard enough to halt flying?”
“No, I think we’ll be right. I heard they placed another bear in jail this morning. That’s two in jail plus a cub.”
