Chapter 3---This cross-fiction chapter is done and I hope you enjoy it. It's kind of interesting combining these two shows in one story.

The alarm clock jolted C.J. out of her sleep. She usually didn't need one but the mornings were so dark in Alaska this time of year that it might be too late for work by the time she woke up. The dreams hadn't returned and she actually woke up feeling rested as she lay back waiting for her stomach to settle down.

She didn't have much time to get ready and grab a bite to eat before heading off to do research in different corners of Cicely for Ed's film. She wondered if he knew that Maurice's plans for his final product differed from his own vision and then figured that as far as the young filmmaker was concerned, it probably wouldn't matter much.

Finally getting out of bed, she went to the kitchen to make some tea and grab some breakfast. She liked working with Ed and she looked forward to any work that would get her mind off of her own life for a while. She had spent the past several weeks working with Ed as they went to interview different residents of the town especially the old-timers who had spent their entire lives never having gone down to the Lower 48. The residents that she had spoken to had been very friendly, inviting her into their homes and had opened up talking about the town's colorful history, most notably the oft-circulated tale about Rosalyn and Cicely, the town's founders. She never tired of hearing the various versions of that story that floated throughout the town.

In between, she and Ed spent time drinking hot tea and talking about what they hoped to see from the film when it was finally completed. He never pressed her for details of her life and she found him a soft-spoken yet well mannered young man.

They drove in a truck in a small road from the house of an old woman who had regaled them both with stories of the years she had spent traveling in a carnival throughout Alaska until she had married the sword swallower and settled down to raise a family of acrobatic men who were all working on oil rigs around the country. She had also whispered about Cicely's legendary "Big Foot".

She furrowed her brow.

"What's this about "Big Foot," she said, "Is that this area's version of the sasquatch legend?"

Ed shook his head.

"No, just Adam."

"Who's Adam?"

Ed narrowly dodged a dog running loose on the road.

"A man who married Eve."

Now she felt really confused.

"Not the Adam in the Bible, but the one who's Big Foot in these parts."

Ed nodded.

"He married Eve too, just like in the Bible," he said, "Except he's taller and hairier and a world-famous chef."

"Not the best chef in Cicely," C.J. said.

Ed looked surprised.

"You heard about him?"

She shrugged.

"Not really," she said, "Maurice just said he was a great gourmet cook himself but only the second best in Cicely."

Ed nodded again.

"He's right," he said, "Adam's the best chef in Alaska."

"I'd like to interview him," C.J. said.

"He might not like that," Ed said, "but then he might. It depends on his mood."

"I see," she said, or so she thought as they continued driving back to town.

Maggie taxied her plane and readied for takeoff to Anchorage, the closest thing that Alaska had to an urban center. Not that she minded, because she loved the rugged nature of living a state where the sun shone at midnight and the aureoles borealis lit the sky during certain times of the year. The tourist trade kept her well-fed and as for the adage that Alaska had the largest population of eligible men, well that had done wonders for her social life. She bristled inwardly just as she did anytime anyone approached her with observations, questions or God forbid, advice about her history with men since she had moved to Alaska.

She had loved each and every one of them up to the moments of their untimely deaths. Whether it was freezing on a glacier or getting struck down in their prime by a wayward satellite, all of Maggie's men had brought much joy to her life. The fact that they had all died not long before hooking up with her didn't make her the human version of the Black Widow spider. After all, she didn't kill them. Nature and the dangerous and seductive lifestyle that Alaska offered to the world's alpha men had killed them. She was as innocent a victim as they had been and she had been the one left alive to mourn them and to add an effigy of what they had represented to the shrine she had kept on the mantle of her old cabin until her mother had of course burned it down to the ground.

The plane took off effortlessly, leaving the ground rushing underneath it and the endless possibilities of the pale blue sky above. The clouds had burned off this morning and the town of Cicely had been treated to a sunny if chilly day, which by its end might provide them with a taste of the spring to come.

She was heading off to Anchorage to pick up one fare. Another land developer traveling to Cicely to probably meet and kick back with Maurice over some choice cigars and a couple bottles of Scotch to discuss the town's future as a Mecca to tourists. Every time she thought about that, it nearly made her sick. What if Maurice's vision of strip malls and gaudy entertainment venues became a reality some day? She shook that thought out of her mind and replacing it was something even more annoying.

Joel Fleishman.

Kissing him in the barn during the ice melting period that had driven the entire town crazy had been the worst mistake she had ever made. Even worse than taking Billy Preston to the spring formal in the 10th grade back in Gross point, Michigan where she had grown up as a very different and hopefully deceased Maggie O'Connell. Okay, Joel was a cutie especially when he smiled at her in a way that nearly made her melt even in the near Arctic snow. And he was actually fun to be around when not whining about being a medical school graduate forcefully seized to live out the next few years as an indentured servant of the State of Alaska. Still, he annoyed her at least 20 hours out of every single day and their constant arguments had become legendary. She started nodding her head at that thought then the heat blazed through her. Damn, he could kiss, she sighed and weaken a girl's knees along with her will to stay away. But even if she did put aside all his flaws and the very good reasons they shouldn't get together, if they did hook up, he would just end up dying and she'd have to add some remnant of him to the new shrine she had started for her deceased trail of lovers after the fire.

She looked ahead, thinking that it would surely be a gorgeous day.

C.J. sat at the Brick eating lunch. Shelli had buzzed by in between deliveries to breathlessly invite her to some sort of spa night with the girls. She assumed it was the same crowd that she saw on Scrabble night. She smiled at the younger girl and told her she would think about it. It sounded like it might be fun and she needed to get out once in a while.

She sipped her soup, not sure what was hiding beneath the creamy broth but it sure tasted good. The room was packed with the lunch crowd, including fur trappers, loggers and a tourist here or there. Joel had stopped by and said that he was glad to see her eating more before he began his latest diatribe about life out in the tundra. She watched him and decided that she would give anything to have his problem. She'd live anywhere on the planet if she could just bring him back. It had taken them far too long to find each other even though they had known each other most of their lives. They had been best friends but hadn't crossed the line to become something more and when that finally happened, it had been during a moment of duress. If he hadn't been killed in an explosion, she wondered what would have happened to the two of them. It became obvious about six weeks or so and a couple of pink sticks later what her future held, only by then he had been gone.

How would he have reacted to the news? She thought he would have been happy whether or not they had gotten together. He had always wanted children and they would have worked something out if they had decided to remain just friends. Now of course that chance was gone forever and she was left alone to raise their child in a world that had gotten more dangerous when it became clear that those responsible for taking him from her still viewed her as a threat. And she still hadn't learned why he had been killed and why his killers had come looking for her.

She shivered as she remembered her escaping their grasp and hoped she had run far enough away from them. But knowing that any minute they could show up wherever she went. Still, the quiet tranquility of Cicely had bit her like a bug and she found herself beginning to settle into her new life. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

The first thing Maggie noticed was the pair of cowboy boots on the feet of the handsomest legs she had seen on a gorgeous man in a good while. She sucked in her breath as she reached out her hand to shake his.

"I'm Maggie O'Connell," she said, smiling, "I'm your pilot."

If he found her as attractive as she found him, he sure didn't show it. His grip was strong, his palm warm and appropriately callused which meant that even as a hated developer, he had some sort of intimate relationship with hard work and building something from the ground up. She could almost forgive him for everything else.

His brown eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"I'm…"

"Joshua Walton," Maggie finished, "at least that's what is on the passenger manifest."

He nodded.

"My friends just call me Josh," he said, easily.

"The name suits you," she said, taking in the casual jeans and long sleeved shirt that he wore beneath his coat, "You're going to be in Cicely long?"

He paused.

"Just until I get my work done," he said, "It depends on how well things go."

She made a face.

"Just watch out for Maurice," she warned, "He'll try to sell you some worthless sand pits."

"Huh?"

Maggie shrugged.

"You are coming to Cicely to buy up some land," she said.

He brightened.

"Oh yeah," he said, "I've got a blank checkbook from the boss."

Well, there went the neighborhood, she thought. She looked at his baggage.

"Are those your things?"

He nodded.

"I always travel light," he said, "I do a lot of traveling."

He didn't wear a wedding ring, not that it meant anything.

"Your family doesn't mind?"

His face darkened a little bit.

"I'm on my own now."

Maggie nodded and then she frowned.

"What's the matter," he asked.

She sighed.

"I hate to tell you this but we're grounded until tomorrow."

He looked confused.

"But it's a beautiful day."

She grimaced.

"I popped a part on the engine," she said, "but I'll get you out of here bright and early tomorrow."

He thought about it.

"I'm in kind of a hurry," he said, "Are you sure there's no other transportation?"

She looked at him, a bit crestfallen at the concern on his face and feeling like she let him down.

"There's a guy with some sled dogs," she said, "but it might take a while to get to Cicely."

He ran his hand through his hair.

"I think tomorrow morning will be just fine," he said, "Is there any recommendations you have for a place to hang my hat in the meantime?"

"There's a pretty good hotel with an excellent piano bar," Maggie said, "I used to play myself but Chris, you know he just had to break his artistic slump by turning it into a work of art by catapulting it in the air."

"What?"

Maggie shrugged.

"It was either that or a cow."

Josh glanced at her sideways.

"Dead or alive?"

She shook her head at him.

"Mr. Wal…Josh you're definitely going to love Cicely."

C.J. had put in some full days working with Ed and had mulled several other job offers including one just offered by Maurice to work as his assistant. She didn't take that one seriously, knowing he just wanted her for personal reasons, her pregnancy notwithstanding. Chris the town deejay had called her up and said he would pay her to read his manuscript and help him edit it. When she asked him what kind of writing he did, he had said erotic poetry. Her cheeks had flushed and she had been glad that a phone line separated them. She had told him she would get back to him.

After driving home, she had made a warm fire in the small living room and started preparing dinner in the kitchen. She kept it simple, mixing some canned vegetables into a chicken broth to make soup and heating up some of Maggie's venison. The sharp odor made her eyes tear a bit because she and Matt had often ate what his daddy and Uncle Roy had brought back from hunting trips while growing up. She sighed when she thought of Roy, the last person she had seen before leaving L.A. She had told him she would get in touch with him as soon as she settled in Cicely. Because he had enjoyed and survived a long stint as a covert operative, she knew he could be trusted with her secret. Still, she hadn't called him yet because it still felt too painful.

She heard someone knocking on the door.

"Coming," she said.

She opened it and saw Shelli standing there with a basket in her hands.

"It's just some more of that sparkling cider," she said, "It's nice that I'm not the only one in town drinking it."

C.J. took it from her, saying thank you.

"I was just making dinner," she said, "Would you like to stay?"

"I can't stay long," Shelli said, "Hollings is hosting a poetry reading at the Brick and I've got to help make some finger food."

"You two have been very nice to me," C.J. started.

Shelli just smiled.

"You and me are in the same club," she said, "We're both knocked up and before long, our lives are going to change so much, we won't know what hit us."

C.J. felt like she had already gone a round or two with what Fate threw her way but she knew what Shelli meant.

"Thank you," she said, softly, "It just happened. We didn't plan it or anything."

Shelli shrugged.

"That's okay," she said, "I had one of those…false pregnancies so at first I didn't know this one was for real."

"I know the feeling," C.J. said, "It took a while for it to hit me that I was going to have this other life depending on me."

"I know," Shelli said, "It's just such a huge responsibility. And all these decisions to make. Hollings is so much better handling it than I am."

She glanced at C.J. who suddenly looked distant.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

C.J. smiled.

"It's okay, it hasn't been long since he's been gone," she said.

Shelli sighed.

"Your baby's daddy."

C.J. nodded.

"Did he leave you," Shelli asked, "Did he walk out?"

"He died almost three months ago," C.J. said, "He was killed in an accident."

Shelli's mouth hung open.

"Bummer," she said, "Is that why you came here?"

"That was part of the reason."

"Did he know about the baby?"

C.J. looked away and took a deep breath.

"There wasn't time."

Shelli shook her head, thinking about how sad it all was. She felt even luckier to have a solid man like Hollings in her life even if he did drive her crazy at times.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

C.J. smiled at her.

"Thank you but it's all right," she said, "We'll be fine. It just takes some getting used to that we're on our own."

Shelli paused.

"What was he like," she said, "was he hot?"

C.J. looked puzzled and then she smiled again.

"I certainly thought so."

Shelli nodded.

"I bet he was really sweet on you," she said.

"He was my best friend since I was a young girl," C.J. said, "but we didn't get together. Didn't want to mess up a good thing. Until that last night, when we couldn't stop ourselves and didn't want to."

"That sounds romantic," Shelli said, with a sigh, "Hollings and me, it's a lot different. Love at first sight when I first got to Cicely, even though I was with Maurice at the time."

C.J. raised her brows.

"You were with him?"

Shelli nodded.

"Until I saw Hollings for the first time and it just hit me, like an electric shock throughout my body and I had to have him," she said, "So I did and we've been together ever since."

"He certainly seems to adore you," C.J. noted.

"He does the cutest things to show it," Shelli said, "and even though I'm getting fat and round and my butt is humongous, he never lets me feel less than beautiful."

"You're lucky," C.J. said, "but so is he."

Maggie walked into the piano bar and saw him playing. Not that he was great or anything but he could carry a tune pretty well. The room was nearly empty and a waiter wiped down the empty tables.

"Where did you learn to play," she asked, standing behind him.

He kept stroking the keys.

"I went out with a concert pianist," he said, "She taught me how to play a couple of duets."

She raised her brow.

"You solo pretty well," she said, sitting down on the bench beside him.

He looked at her.

"Oh I play too," she said, "Not very well of course because it's been years since I've had lessons and I lost my piano to the promotion of performance art but I still play now and then."

He started to play a duet and she smiled, jumping right in and they played together for a while.

"You're pretty good," he said, after they stopped.

"I never wanted the lessons," Maggie said, "My sister's the music prodigy but now I'm glad I took them."

Josh called the waiter over.

"I'd like a Scotch on the rocks," he said, then looked at Maggie, "and what the lady would like."

"I'll take a brandy," she said.

They went to sit at a nearby table. When they got their drinks, she nursed hers thoughtfully.

"Now Joel thinks I drink too much…"

He looked confused.

"Who's Joel?"

She looked exasperated.

"He's the town doctor," she said, "We paid for his education and he works for us. He's originally from Queens, New York."

"Is he your fellow?"

She laughed.

"God no," she said, "We can't stand each other. Besides I date men who love the outdoors and Joel's afraid to go outside his cabin half the time."

He sipped his drink.

"So you have a boyfriend…"

She shook her head.

"The last guy I dated died in a tragic accident," she said, "A satellite hit him."

His drink paused on the way to his lips.

"A what?"

She sighed.

"A space satellite," she explained, "It fell out of the sky and hit him. He died instantly."

"Yeah I imagine he would," Josh said, "I'm sorry for your loss."

She smiled.

"It's okay," she said, "I'm moving on. He's not the only boyfriend I've had who's died anyway."

He narrowed his eyes.

"How many have there been?"

"Four…maybe five," she said, "I think I lost count."

He shook his head.

"Surely you don't think that you're the cause," he said.

"Oh no, not at all," she said, "They were all horrible coincidences. But people talk about it behind my back a lot including at the funerals."

She didn't know why she was telling him the most difficult chapter of her life history but something in his eyes made her feel comfortable enough in his presence to share anything about herself.

"I don't know why I told you all this," she said, "Some guys say I should come with a warning label or something."

He frowned.

"That's not very nice of them."

She sipped her brandy, feeling it burn her throat in a way that soothed her.

"What about you," she said, "Anything like that in your history?"

He hesitated and she saw something flicker in his eyes for a brief moment before he shook his head.

"I'm not really that complicated," he said, "I'm just a guy who likes what I do and loves to see the world."

"Anyone special," she asked.

His eyes clouded and now she knew she had hit a sore spot.

"I'm sorry," she said, "It's really none of my business."

"I had to go away for a while," he said, "and I came back and everything changed."

"A woman was one of the things that changed," Maggie guessed.

He didn't say anything but he nodded.

"She couldn't wait for you or something like that?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," he said.

She looked away.

"I'm sorry, it's really none of my business," she said.

He looked into his glass.

"I had to leave her suddenly," he said, "It was the hardest thing I ever had to do."

"I never left anyone," Maggie said, "They left me so I think I might know how she felt."

C.J. dropped by the Brick to check out the poetry reading. She left her warm cabin, started up the car and drove through the frigid night to check out the lumberjacks, hair stylists, explorers and one alternative music deejay who would be reciting their poems from the mike in front of an appreciative and well-fed and watered crowd.

Shelli beamed as she saw her while circulating more snacks on the refreshment tables.

"This is the largest crowd yet," she enthused, "There's still a few seats in the back."

C.J. went and sat down next to Ed and a red-headed woman holding a baby on her lap.

"Did I miss much," she asked.

Ed shrugged.

"The loggers over there did some haikus," he said, "and the woman over there who does hair wrote some sonnets."

The red-headed woman put her finger on her lips.

"Shhh," she said, "I want to hear this."

Ed turned towards C.J.

"That's Eve."

"You mean Adam's Eve?"

Ed nodded.

"He's in Switzerland attending a culinary convention," he explained.

Eve turned to look at them.

"My husband is one of the foremost chefs in the world," she said, "He inspired Wolfgang Puck to do his best work."

"That's nice," C.J. said.

Eve scrutinized her.

"How long until you're due?"

C.J. looked at her surprised but then figured she must have heard it on the town's equivalent of a grapevine.

"A little over six months."

Eve nodded.

"Are you getting all your vitamins, your folic acid, calcium and staying away from farm-raised salmon and shellfish?"

C.J. just looked at her.

"What?"

Eve flashed a look of impatience.

"Are you going with Lamaze, natural child-birth, induced labor or in a controlled aqua environment with dolphins?"

"I don't know yet," C.J. said.

"Midwife, doula or doctor," Eve continued, "Now Dr. Freishman's not a bad doctor but he's not a licensed specialist in Ob/Gyn or pediatrics let alone…"

"Eve is a walking encyclopedia of information," Ed said.

"I have some pregnancy manuals you can borrow," Eve said.

"Are you a doctor," C.J. asked.

Eve laughed.

"No, just an informed patient," she said, "You can never be too careful."

"No you can't be," C.J. agreed.

Chris stood up and began reading his collection of erotic poetry. Shelli walked by Ed and C.J.

"Isn't he something," she said, "He's got such a way with words. It gives me goose pimples."

C.J. got up to get some more snacks. She bumped into Joel at the table. He turned and smiled at her.

"You've been working with Ed I noticed," he said.

She nodded.

"I'm helping him research his film," she said.

"The one Maurice has him doing," Joel said, "That's going to be interesting to see whose vision of Cicely's history prevails after the final cut."

"I heard that Maurice wants one that will appeal more to tourists whereas Ed's taste is more avant garde," C.J. said.

"It's Maurice's money," Joel said, "He'll get what he wants and Ed will get a good lesson on how an artist's vision can be compromised by the reality of commercialism."

"You're a cynic," C.J. noted.

"I'm trapped up here in Alaska when I could be working towards a Park Avenue address," Joel grumbled.

"Is Maggie back yet," C.J. asked.

Joel shook his head.

"She got stuck in Anchorage with her passenger and some medical equipment she was to bring me," Joel said, "She'll be in tomorrow morning."

Josh had a couple more drinks before he said goodnight to Maggie and went to his hotel room. She watched him leave the bar after she made a weak play for him simply because it was expected of her. Any thoughts she had of trying to come on to him because after all, she was sure sexy enough, she packed away. She really had to move away from these casual flings that she had engaged in since Rick died.

She nursed another brandy, careful not to imbibe too much because she had to fly the next day. He had been ruggedly handsome but nice. Not that she sensed he had any interest in here whatsoever. His mind obviously was elsewhere and perhaps so was his heart. Another handsome guy nursing a broken heart with a trip to America's last wilderness and they were a dime a dozen. No doubt, it would cater to his alpha nature and a week or so spent hiking, hunting and kayaking would set him right again. She wondered if he would actually get any work done. Maybe it would be worth her while to keep him so busy during his stay in Cicely that he wouldn't have enough time to make any land deals with Maurice. Yes, now there was a plan.

Josh just lay on his bed, thinking back to the evening he had just spent with the pilot he had hired to fly him to Cicely. She had been nice enough, very beautiful and definitely spirited. She reminded him of someone else.

He had listened to her tales involving her dead boyfriends, wondering if any part of her believed she had played any role in their deaths. That couldn't be possible, he knew but he also knew a lot about the strength of perceptions and how they could influence people and the decisions they made. After all, he had been in that position many times himself.

Maggie had been nice, when he had decided to head off to bed…alone. Sure, she had come on to him a little bit, saying that just because she had left behind some a trail of dead boyfriends didn't mean that hooking up with her was the kiss of death or anything. He didn't have the energy or even the heart to tell her that even if she were deadly to the men that she encountered, that he was immune to her worst having died once already.