Touching the Clouds (10 page)

When his boat gently bumped the dock, Paul looped a rope over a post and tied it off. He’d made good time and hopefully would be home by midday.

At the end of the dock, he trudged up steps leading to a wooden sidewalk and headed for the general store. Moving past the two men he’d seen from the river, he nodded and kept walking.

Charlie Agnak sat in front of the mercantile, his chair leaning against the building and his feet propped on a fat stump. The native man smiled, his eyes becoming slits and his face crinkling into hundreds of lines that reminded Paul of a map.

He stood, his short frame barely reaching Paul’s shoulders. “Good to see you. Was beginning to wonder if you’d come before the snows.”

“How’s business?” Paul asked.

Charlie shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“I was hoping to do some trading.”

“What you got?”

“Potatoes and turnips.”

“People round here always want vegetables, especially when winter’s coming.” He hobbled inside the store on bowed legs.

Paul followed.

Charlie moved to a barrel stove. He opened the door, then picked up two chunks of wood from a bin and shoved them into the fire. “Cold today.”

Paul scanned the small store and spotted the legholds hanging on a far wall. He crossed the room to have a look. “I need a dozen new traps. What you want for them?”

“Well now, that depends.” He grinned and rubbed his chin. “How much you got to trade?”

“I’ve got about a hundred pounds of potatoes and I’d say fifty pounds of turnips.”

“You have more at home?”

“Yeah and some carrots too.”

Charlie joined Paul. “These are nice traps, the best—lightweight, and they got a good, strong grip.”

“I can add fifty pounds of carrots,” Paul offered, knowing that Charlie never made a deal without dickering.

Charlie pushed his fingers through black hair lying flat against his forehead, then with a smile extended his hand. “You got a deal.” He took six traps down and limped to a register.

Paul grabbed six more and carried them to the front of the store. “I’ll take the traps out and bring in my half of the trade.”

“Good.” Charlie leaned over a ledger and wrote in it.

Paul hauled in the first of the potatoes. “Where do you want these?”

Charlie nodded toward the north wall. “Set ’em over there.” He stuck his pencil over his ear.

Paul deposited the sack against the wall, then returned to the boat for the rest of the vegetables.

“Doubt they’ll stay in the root cellar long,” Charlie said. “Already got people asking about spuds.” He sat in a chair near the stove. “How’re things on the crick?”

“No complaints. Had a run-in with some wolves, though.”

“Wolves?” Using his pencil, Charlie scratched his scalp.

“Yeah. A pack came after me. Managed to shoot three of them and the others took off.”

“They been back?”

“They came nosing around. But Patrick and I had traps set out. We got two of them.”

“Don’t hear much about wolves going after people.” Charlie stared at the sacks of vegetables, then looked at Paul. “Fellas around here are saying we’re in for a bad winter.”

“Yeah. First week of September and there’s already snow on Mount Susitna.”

Charlie nodded. “You figure on being back before Christmas?”

“By Thanksgiving. I’ll bring the carrots then.”

“Good.” Charlie folded his arms over his chest. “Have a sit and a cup of coffee.”

Paul knew all about Charlie’s coffee. It was black as mud and tasted worse. “I’d sure like to, but I’ve got to head home. There’s work waiting for me.” He hefted the remaining traps and walked to the door. “See you in a few weeks.”

“Watch out for those wolves.” Charlie propped his feet on the wood box next to the stove, looking like he was settling in for the day. “Say hello to Patrick and Klaus for me. Haven’t seen neither of them in a while.”

“Patrick’ll be by, but I don’t know about Klaus. His rheumatism’s bothering him. I’ll give him a hello from you, though.” Paul opened the door and headed for his boat. He chucked the traps into the hull and then shoved off, heading back the way he’d come.

Darkness settled over the cabin as Paul set to work repairing a fur hat. Wood snapped and popped in the stove, and the aroma of burning spruce and alder pervaded the room. A lantern flickered, providing just enough light for him to see.

He bent over the hat, pushing a large needle with heavy twine into a torn ear flap. He pulled it through the other side and tugged it snug. If his ear was exposed to the cold, he could lose it to frostbite.

He squinted, trying to keep the stitches tight and even. His coarse hands caught on the fur. He stopped and set the cap in his lap. Turning his palms up, he studied them. They were chapped and calloused. A flash of memory reminded him of the work they’d once done and how they’d looked.

A lot has changed
, he thought, feeling the familiar squeeze of pain in his chest.
Stay busy. Don’t think.
But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t keep the memories at bay and couldn’t stop wishing things had stayed as they were.

8

K
ate grabbed her gear and stepped out of the plane. A frigid wind cut through her as she made her way across the field to the workshed. Pilots Jack Rydell and Kenny Hicks stood outside the door, huddled in fur-lined coats. As usual, Jack had a cigar clenched between his teeth. Just the idea of the cigar stink that clung to the man made Kate’s stomach turn. She wished there was some way to avoid him, but Sidney insisted all pilots check in after runs.

Keeping her head down against the strengthening gale, Kate wondered what she had done to get Jack’s dander up. Only thing she could figure was her gender. He didn’t like female pilots. He’d made that clear.
He probably sits up nights
thinking of ways to get under my skin.

She glanced at Kenny. He wasn’t as bad as Jack, but he still needled her regularly. She didn’t know where he got off ridiculing anyone—he was, at best, a mediocre pilot.

Not willing to let either of them know their teasing and disrespect unsettled her, she relaxed her shoulders and forced a smile. “What’re you guys doing out here? It’s freezing.”

“Waiting on passengers.” Wind grabbed at Kenny’s hood and pulled it away from his face. Dark curls whipped wildly about his head. He pulled the hood back on. “How ’bout you? Done with the mail run?” He used a disparaging tone.

Not about to take the bait, Kate said amiably, “Yeah. It was a good day.” She glanced at the gray sky. “Looks like we’re in for it now, though.”

“Yeah, storm’s coming in.” Jack moved his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “Won’t keep me on the ground. Got a group heading for Nome.”

Arrogant half-wit. Always has to be one up on everyone.
“Might be wise to wait for the weather to clear.”

“A little wind doesn’t scare me.”

Kate eyed him, wondering whether she cared enough to spar with him, then thought of the passengers he’d be transporting. “Your riders might feel differently.” Kate couldn’t keep the crankiness out of her voice. “You could be forced down.”

Wearing a smirk, Jack said, “Don’t worry about me.” He turned his gaze to Kate’s plane. “You worry about yourself and that albatross you fly.”

Kate felt instant indignation. He could say what he wanted about her, but her plane was first-rate. “A pilot can hardly do better than a Bellanca Pacemaker. It’ll handle just about anything.”

“You try a Stinson and you’ll never go back to that crate.” He lifted his lip in a sneer. “A Stinson’ll get you where you want to go a lot faster and without all the shuddering of that workhorse of yours.”

“Better a workhorse that can go the distance than a thoroughbred that can’t make a second lap.” Before Jack could say anything more, Kate opened the shop door and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her. Fuming, she muttered, “What’s wrong with that man.”

Sidney looked up from where he sat, feet propped on the desktop. “What are you mumbling about?”

“Jack. He infuriates me.”

Sidney grinned. “You’re not the only one.”

“Yeah, but I’m the only woman. He gives me twice as much grief as everyone else.” She glanced at the door. “And he takes too many risks.”

“You don’t?”

Caught off guard, Kate said more quietly, “Not unless I have to.” She knew she’d been pushing hard, but it wasn’t easy being the only female pilot on the crew. There was always pressure to prove she could keep up.

“Don’t let Jack get under your skin. It just feeds his oversized ego.”

“Easier said than done.” Pulling off her gloves, Kate moved to the ledger hanging on the wall, marked off her name, and filled in the time of arrival, then crossed to the stove and held her palms out to the heat.

“Glad to see you’re back,” Sidney said. “How are things on the peninsula?”

“Not too bad, but it’ll probably be wicked by tonight.” The heat made her cheeks burn, so she turned her back to the stove. She glanced at the window. “Isn’t it early in the season for this kind of weather?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure there’s a normal for Alaska. It’ll probably move through, though, and things will warm up again.”

A gust of wind bashed the door. “You going to let Jack fly passengers up to Nome in this?”

“Already tried to reason with him.” He sipped coffee from a tin cup. “He’s his own boss, nothing I can do. And the people flying with him should be able to think for themselves.” Sidney shook his head. “Jack’ll catch it one day. He’s got bush pilot’s syndrome bad. A close shave’ll usually cure most pilots, but not Jack. Only makes him feel more invincible.”

“Is Mike out?” Kate asked, feeling a prickle of fear.

“He’s in Talkeetna. Figure he’ll stay put until the weather clears. He’s mostly levelheaded.” Sidney finished off his coffee, then walked to the stove and refilled his cup.

Kate watched the black liquid dribble into the tin. “Don’t know how you drink that stuff. It’s got more bite than a mama bear.”

Sidney kept his eyes on Kate and took an extra-large slurp. “Ahh, good and strong, just the way I like it. You need to adapt your taste buds.” He grinned, then with his voice laden with concern, said, “Frank’s still out.”

“Where is he?”

“Fairbanks. The storm’s coming down from the north. Figured he’d put in a call by now. Haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Frank’ll be okay. He’s the most sensible one of us all.” Kate grabbed a piece of peppermint candy from a dish that Sidney kept on his desk. Using her tongue, she pushed it into her cheek. “So, when do I get to take out something other than mail? I’m ready.”

“You think a month of flying makes you ready?”

“I’ve been in a plane most of my life.”

“Not up here you haven’t.” He set his cup on the desk. “I know you’re antsy to take on more, but caution’s your best bet.”

“How long did Mike have to wait before he was given real runs? Or Jack?”

Sidney shifted his gaze away from Kate. “That’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well, they’re—”

“Men?”

Sidney clenched his jaw.

“It’s not fair. And you know it. I can fly with the best of them.” Kate’s frustration drove her to push harder. “I understand the treatment from guys like Kenny and Jack, but I figured I’d get better from you.”

Annoyance flickered in Sidney’s eyes, and Kate knew she’d gone too far. If she wanted to keep her job, she’d best retreat. She stomped to the door, opened it, then stopped and turned to look at Sidney. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just watching out for me.”

Sidney gave a nod, but said nothing. Kate stepped outside and into the rising gale.

A gust of wind and spattering of snow blew in with Kate when she walked into the store. Warm, spiced air welcomed her.

Helen smiled from behind the counter. “I was wondering when you’d get in. I’ve been praying for you.”

“I’m glad to be here instead of out there,” Kate said, pushing back her hood. “It’s really blowing.” A corner of her mind went to Jack. She hoped he’d be sensible and cancel his flight.

“Mail came for you today.” Helen pulled open a drawer.

“Who from?” Kate stripped off her gloves.

Helen fished out two envelopes. Looking at them she said, “One from your parents. And this says Richard Benning.” She lifted her eyebrows. “And who is Richard?”

Kate stared at the envelope. “Richard?” She could see his handsome face and sky blue eyes. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about him. “He’s just a friend.” Trying to act nonchalant, she took the letters.

Wind blasted the front windows. Helen reached for her coat. “I was just getting ready to head home. If I don’t go now, I’m liable to spend the night here.” She pulled on her coat, buttoned it, and snugged her fur-lined hood around her face. “Will you be all right?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got plenty of firewood. I’ll just snuggle down and read a book.”

“Okay, dear. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Once in her room, Kate set the mail on the table, then stoked the fire. After putting water on to boil, she sat and unlaced her boots. She slid them off and pushed her feet into slippers, then picked up her mail and moved to the sofa. With her feet tucked under her, she pulled a blanket around her shoulders.

For a long moment, she stared at the envelope with Richard’s bold handwriting. Was he still angry? She slid a finger under the seal, lifted out the letter, and opened it.

“
Dear Kate,”
he began. She took a deep breath. That didn’t sound angry.
“Since you left, I’ve done nothing but think about
you. I know you don’t believe there’s a chance for us and maybe
there isn’t, but I want to try. Love is strong enough to heal all
wounds. If you can give me any hope, I’ll wait for you.”

Kate stopped reading and pressed the letter to her chest. What did she feel for Richard? An ache like that of homesickness pressed down on her. Had she been too impulsive? Piloting in Alaska was harder than she’d imagined. And yet, she felt as if she belonged here.

Her eyes returned to the letter. “
I’m trying to understand
your reason for going. I want you to be happy, but please
consider coming home. In the meantime be careful. I dread
receiving word that something terrible has happened to you.
I don’t think I could bear that.