Touching the Clouds (16 page)

She chuckled. “Ethel Merman I’m not.” Kate continued humming the tune while making sure packages were arranged so the weight was distributed evenly.

She’d be stopping at several villages en route to Kotzebue. December offered little daylight, so the run would take about four days there and another four back. The trip was treacherous. The vast tundra and miles of mountains and ice were a natural barrier between civilization and the small towns and villages strewn across the wilderness. Weather conditions were at best frigid and clear—at their worst, lethal. Still, Kate’s holiday cheer overrode her apprehension.

Christmas was a mere three weeks off. She didn’t know what she’d be doing for the holiday, yet the merriment of the season made her mood light. This would be the first Christmas she’d celebrate away from home and the first her parents had spent without her. She wondered what they’d planned. A pang of homesickness cut into her pleasure. And an image of Richard. Last Christmas they’d been talking about their life together. On Christmas Eve, he’d kissed her beneath the mistletoe in his parents’ front room and then asked her to marry him. She’d thought he was everything she wanted. But things change.

Guilt niggled at her. She still hadn’t written to him and promised herself she would as soon as she returned from this trip. It had seemed kinder not to, but she knew better. It wasn’t right to let him think there was any hope.

Paul intruded on her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about him. He wasn’t her type—too serious. Still, she couldn’t shut out the image of his broad shoulders, the set of his strong chin, and the warmth in his eyes. And the idea of him spending Christmas alone on the creek sent a twinge of sadness through her.
The Warrens will certainly include him.
He won’t be alone.

Kate started the engine, and while it warmed up, she checked the craft for ice. The temperatures had been frigid, but the air was dry so that would help. Using a flashlight, she walked around the Bellanca, checking the fuselage and wings, the tail section, and any place where ice might accumulate and weigh down the plane. She’d have to be vigilant to watch for any accumulation—even frost could change the shape of the wings and disturb airflow.

The shop door opened and someone stepped out. A flashlight cast a beam across the snow. It was Mike. “Morning,” he said.

“Hi,” Kate said, glad they’d bumped into each other. She was curious about him and wished they had time to get to know one another better.

“So, you’re making a run to Kotzebue.”

“I’ve got Christmas deliveries.”

“Playing Santa, huh?”

Kate grinned, her mind returning to her little song. She was glad he hadn’t heard.

Mike leaned against the fuselage, his eyes lingering on hers. “What you doing for Christmas?”

Kate took in a quick breath. Did she see interest in his gaze? Doing her best to act nonchalant, she said, “I don’t know. Sidney’s heading to Seward so the field will be shut down for a few days.”

“Forced vacation for us.” Mike stepped back and looked over Kate’s plane, then let his gaze rest on her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Christmas?”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know yet.”
It might be fun to spend the
holiday with Mike,
Kate thought. Did she want more than friendship? They had a lot in common and he was fun.

“Maybe we could spend it together.” His gaze held Kate’s.

“That sounds nice,” she said. “I’m not sure if Albert and Helen are expecting me.”

“We can work something out.” He smiled.

“Okay.”

Mike folded his arms over his chest and his expression turned serious. “You won’t have a lot of daylight this trip, and it’ll get worse as you head north.”

“I’ve got it figured out. I can fly in twilight and after dark if I have to. We’ve got a full moon.”

Mike wasn’t smiling. “Be careful.”

Kate felt irritation stir. She was tired of men, even Mike, fretting about her simply because she was a woman. “I don’t need you protecting me.”

“Someone has to.” He grinned. “You don’t need to prove yourself all the time. We all know you’re a good pilot.”

“I am good. But you’re wrong about proving myself. I can never let up. I’m always under extra scrutiny, because I’m a woman. If I succeed, no one notices, but if I fail, it’s because I’m female.”

“I don’t think anyone is scrutinizing you, Kate, except maybe Jack. And you can’t take him seriously.”

She tugged on the sides of her flight cap and moved to the door. “I appreciate your concern, honestly.”

“No matter who’s flying this bird, it’s a tough run this time of year.”

She glanced at the parcels stowed inside. “Someone has to deliver these packages. Otherwise a lot of kids won’t have Christmas.”

“Let me tag along.”

Kate toyed with the idea of having Mike for company. “You have trips of your own.” She glanced at the shop. “And the guys’ll have a heyday if you ride with me as my protector. I can already hear Jack. He’d razz me to my grave.” She shook her head. “No thanks.”

Mike took a step closer. “You can’t let someone like Jack get under your skin and affect your decisions.” He closed the distance between them. “That pilot out of Ketchikan that disappeared last week, they still haven’t found him.”

Mike stood less than an arm’s length away. Kate put a foot on the steps, not sure how she felt about him being that close.

“I know. I heard. We all gamble. It’s part of the job. And last time I checked you were risking your neck more than me.”

“I do what I have to. You do
more
than you have to.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Let me come along. Why do you care what anyone thinks?”

“I care, that’s all.”

“Okay.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be thinking about you.”

Kate felt her heart quicken. “Thanks. I’ll be thinking about you too,” she said, and she meant it. She glanced at the sky, which was turning pink. “I better go.” She stepped into the plane. “See you next week.”

He moved back. “Maybe when you get back, we can go out or something.”

“Sure.”

Mike gave her a small salute and then closed the door. Kate made her way to the cockpit, wondering what was happening between her and Mike. She settled in her seat, tapped the pedals, pulled back on the throttle, and gave Mike a wave as she headed down the runway.

The next three days, Kate made stops at homesteads and villages. She was greeted by enthusiastic children and moms and dads. Some of the gifts had been donated while others were ordered by parents who’d anxiously been awaiting their arrival. Kate loved playing Santa.

As she headed up the coast and neared Kotzebue, the temperatures turned bitter and wind whipped across the frozen sea, sifting snow into the air and creating a ground blizzard. Once down, she might have to stay put for a few days.

Dusk closed over the tundra. Kate checked her compass and then gazed out over the empty white world below. The ground blend was bad, making it difficult to distinguish earth from sky. It was eerie. Native tales of ghostly visions and apparitions crowded her thoughts. She’d be glad to get on the ground and snuggle down in the Turchiks’ warm little house.

An anemic-looking sun rested on the horizon, and Kate studied her position. She took another look at her map and stared at the terrain, trying to sear the image into her mind. She checked her compass again, then her elevation. Conditions like this had been the death of many a pilot. Unable to distinguish up from down, they’d been known to fly their planes into the ground or keep the nose up and climb into a stall.

The sun slipped away, casting the tundra into shadow. Momentarily, Kate felt disoriented and panic climbed up her insides. “Kotzebue—where are you?” She peered into the darkness and wondered where the moon had gotten to. Blackness pressed in. Kate realized she was holding her breath and gripping the stick with all her strength.
Relax. You can handle
this.
Taking a couple of deep breaths and forcing herself to loosen her hold on the stick, she stayed on her heading and searched for the lights of Kotzebue. The town was out there. Kate knew she was close.

Rolling back tight shoulders, she remembered the enthusiasm she’d felt the morning she’d left Anchorage. She decided singing might lighten her mood, and faltering at first, she sang her version of
Jingle Bells,
her voice strengthening with each verse
.
The tension eased, so she kept singing while seeking signs of civilization in the dark wasteland.

Kate spotted something. Was it a light? Leaning forward, she stared hard, then hooted her relief. It was a light. “Thank you, God.” She kept her focus on the tiny point of hope splintering the northern wilderness.

Soon more lights appeared and Kate sat deeper in her seat. “Kotzebue, you are a lovely sight.”

She circled the town, looking for the airstrip. Firepots had been lit and set out to mark the runway. The Turchiks, no doubt.

When Kate came to a stop, someone carrying a lantern ran toward the plane. It was Joe. When she opened the door and stepped out, he smiled broadly.

“Kate! Good you are here!”

“I’ve never been so thankful to see a town in all my life.” Kate hugged him.

He gave her a tight squeeze. “I have been praying for you.”

“Thank you. And thanks for the firepots.”

He nodded. “Nena has soup ready. She’s been cooking and watching for you all day.”

Kate felt buoyant. “Wonderful. I’m starved.”

With Joe’s help, she tied down the plane. After the oil was drained, the two of them draped a cover over the engine. She checked her watch. “I can hardly believe it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. It’s so dark.”

“Yeah, that’s how it is here in the winter.”

The wind bit Kate’s nose and her cheeks. She pulled her parka closed around her face.

Holding up a lantern, Joe grinned. “You cold?”

“I am. And don’t tell me you’re not.”

He laughed. “This is nothing. It gets much worse.”

Kate shrugged, not sure whether to believe him or not. “Better get the Christmas gifts unloaded and into your store. Tomorrow you’ll be swamped by parents.”

“Some came today, hoping you’d arrived.”

While Kate reached into the plane, Joe held the lantern high, its flame flickering wildly. She grabbed two bags and handed them to him, then dragged out two more.

“There’ll be some happy kids on Christmas,” he said.

“I’m counting on it.” Kate pushed the door closed and latched it, then huddling against the wind, she followed Joe toward town.

She barely stepped in the door when the boys came charging toward her. They wrapped their arms around her legs in an exuberant hug.

“Hello, Kate,” said Peter.

“He . . .wo,” said Nick.

Kate gave them both a squeeze, feeling as if she’d been welcomed home.

Nena sat on a chair, the baby in her arms. She smiled broadly. “I’m so happy to see you. I have been praying for your safety.”

“I’m sure your prayers are what guided me. It was awfully dark out there.” Kate gave the boys one more hug, then straightened and looked around the room. “I’m so glad to be here.”

After a meal of fish soup with rice and roasted reindeer, Nena went into the back room and returned with a package wrapped in bright red paper. “I made this for you. For Christmas.” She held out the gift.

Kate accepted it. She hadn’t even thought about gifts for the Turchiks. She looked at it, not certain whether she ought to open it or wait until Christmas.

“Open it!” Peter said.

Kate shot a questioning look at Nena.

“Yes. Open.”

She carefully unwrapped the bulky package, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. The paper fell away, revealing a grass basket with a lid. There were images of tiny red and blue swans woven into the pattern. “It’s wonderful. You made this?”

Nena nodded, her dark eyes turning into upside-down crescents when she smiled.

Kate examined the basket, marveling at the artwork and wondering just how anyone could weave such intricate designs. “I love it. Thank you.”

Peter climbed into Kate’s lap. “Look inside.”

Kate lifted the lid. Lying in the bottom was something wrapped in the same red paper that had concealed the basket. She picked it up and removed the wrapping. A piece of yellow-white ivory fell into her hand. It had been carved to look like a whale and had a silver chain attached to it. Kate stroked the polished figure, then ran a finger over carved etchings.

“Joe made it,” Nena said, pride in her voice.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.” Kate immediately undid the clasp and draped the necklace around her neck. “Every time I wear it, I’ll think of you.” She closed the hook and let the necklace fall against her chest. “It’s perfect.” Resting her hand over it, she said, “I wish I had brought something for you.”

“You have—something of great value,” said Nena. “You come when it is dark and cold. It is dangerous for you, but still you bring Christmas to Kotzebue.” She smiled, her teeth looking white against her dark skin.

For the first time since arriving in Alaska, Kate saw her profession as more than a job. It was a mission. She hugged Nena and then each member of the family. At that moment she couldn’t imagine a better life.

They ate Eskimo ice cream, called
akutaq
, a treat Kate had yet to develop a taste for. Her palate wasn’t used to seal oil mixed with berries. However, unwilling to offend the Turchiks, she ate every bite.

During the night, the wind quieted and ground fog crept over the coastline. Before daylight Kate walked to the airfield to check the plane. Ice had formed on the wings and windows, but the engine had fared well. She’d have to wait for the fog to dissipate before taking off. She’d not be flying today.

Kate stayed one extra day at the Turchiks’. Her time with the native family was fun. Nearly everyone in town showed up to claim mail and Christmas packages. There were lots of smiles and giggling children. Every visitor thanked Kate for bringing the precious shipment to the village.

Peter and Nick included Kate in a game of bear hunting. Each of the boys pretended to be mighty hunters while she was the revered and much feared bear. When they caught her, they’d pounce on her back, then everyone would fall into a giggling pile. They also played tag, but it was a little different than the game Kate remembered from her childhood. When you tagged another player, you had to touch them in exactly the same spot each time or they weren’t eliminated. It made for a lot of leaping and wriggling to stay out of reach.