Under Alaskan Skies (5 page)

“Never mind,” he said, pulling a chair up to the table. “It will give me a chance to check up on Donny
tomorrow. You can take me to Skagway tomorrow. I’ll meet the ship there. I’ll get a room in a hotel or something tonight.”

“Or something is more like it,” Carrie said, sitting down across from him. “I wish there was a hotel in Mystic, but there isn’t. We don’t get that many tourists. The nearest hotel is in Stewart, fifty miles as the crow or the floatplane flies. They’ve also got a coffeehouse. We’re lucky to have a post office, a store, a school and a library, which is only open when I’m home because I’m the librarian. Oh, and a kind of museum, too.”

“Which is only open when you’re home because you’re probably the curator,” he said, digging into his soup.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Just a lucky guess. I suppose you caught the salmon for the soup. It’s great.”

“Actually I traded it for a pan of cinnamon rolls, I’ve never been much of a fisherman.”

“I don’t know who got the best deal,” Matt said. “I guess I’d have to taste those rolls first.” He imagined how she’d look in her kitchen in the morning, any morning, with her hair tousled, her eyes still sleepy and the scent of yeast and cinnamon in the air, and it caused his heart to pump double time. What a combination—she was modest, gutsy, gorgeous, warm, generous and self-effacing. It was just his luck to find her in this corner of a different world. A world seen by most through the porthole of a cruise ship. It was his luck to see it up close and firsthand. If only he’d seen it ten years ago.

If only he’d met her then in a different place and
a different time. Things might have been…no, ten years ago he was on his way to becoming a doctor. He wouldn’t have let anything interfere with his plans, or were they his father’s plans? It didn’t matter. The die had been cast. The end was almost in sight. Three more years. Now if only the boy would recover, he would always have happy memories of this place. He’d always keep her image in one corner of his mind.

“If that’s a hint, you’re on,” Carrie said. “After all you’ve done for me, for us, for the town, I’ll do whatever it takes to make your stay more pleasant. Cinnamon rolls, whatever.”

“Anything?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but feeling anything but. He felt downright lecherous. He had no idea what was happening to him. If he thought about it, which he really didn’t want to do, he’d have to say that it was being here, away from everything and everybody he knew that had him feeling like a different person from the focused, serious medical resident who’d left for a vacation with his parents a week ago. It was his first break in a long time, between med school and his internship.

Sometimes it seemed he’d spent all his life studying. Was he acting out because of the spring breaks from college that he’d never had, was he trying to make up for the teen summers spent in summer school while other guys chased bikini-clad girls on the beach? Had he missed out on something by staying away from womanizing and drinking binges in college?

Whatever it was, he had it bad. He tried not to stare at her, but it was hard not to. Even as he was eating
he let his gaze cross the table. When she wasn’t looking, he studied her cheekbones, her eyes, the way her hair fell across her cheek. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. His first break, his first crush, about ten years too late. That’s all it was, a crush on a woman who was everything he wasn’t. Free and easy. And self-sufficient. So self-sufficient she didn’t need anybody. Except for the whole town. Or did they need her more than she needed them?

There was something about her that made him aware of every move she made. Whether it was her hands on the controls or her head bent over the pot of soup. Every gesture fascinated him, every word she spoke intrigued him. For a moment there in the truck he thought he might kiss her. She thought about it, too. He knew she did. She wore her thoughts on her face and her heart on her sleeve. But he’d caught himself in time. He still wanted to kiss her. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her red-gold hair. Just winding a tendril around his finger had only made him want more. Much more. He also wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know everything.

Good thing he was leaving tomorrow. His life was planned. The job, the career. Even the wife.

“I’d do
almost
anything,” she said in answer to his question. “I, uh, look Matt, you’re welcome to stay here tonight. In fact, you don’t have a lot of choices. It’s the guest room or the couch,” she said firmly.

She might blush, she might stutter, she might be uneasy, but she’d put him in his place. Whatever he was feeling for her, she wanted no part of. But if it was true, there was no man in her life, it was a
damned shame and a waste of a remarkable woman. Why, he wanted to ask. Why not?

“Fortunately some of my dad’s clothes are still in boxes waiting to be given away. Jackets, sweaters, pants, even boots, something ought to fit you. Just in case…” She glanced out the window where, given the dusk and the fog, it was hard to see more than a few yards.

“Which reminds me,” he said. “I have to call the ship and let my parents know I won’t be back tonight. I also might call a surgeon I know in San Francisco, to get his advice about your friend Donny. And to make sure I’m doing the right thing.”

“The phone’s in the living room.” She led the way to a wood paneled room with a huge leather couch, a large stone fireplace where a fire was laid, a fur rug in front of it and native blankets hanging on the walls. It looked like a ski lodge. The kind of place to curl up with a good book or a good woman. He watched Carrie bend over to light the fire, noticed the sweet curve of her hip in her jumpsuit, and a sharp stab of desire flooded his body.

Well, what harm did it do to fantasize about a woman he would never see again after tomorrow? What harm to fantasize about a different life, a simple life here in the Alaska bush, where men were men and women, at least one woman, looked like something off the cover of
Country Life
or
Aviation
magazine or maybe even
Vogue?
Where evenings like this were spent in simple and basic pursuits… He told himself not to go there, that the fantasy was getting out of hand.

Carrie fanned the flames of the fire and stood up.
She gave him a look as if she knew what he was thinking and those thoughts disturbed her. Could she possibly be thinking the same thing? Forget that. She’d brought him here for one reason and one reason alone. He had no right to hit on her.

She took a deep breath. “I’m going upstairs to shower and change,” she said.

Matt nodded and watched her walk up the stairs. Her red hair bounced against her shoulders. Despite her fatigue, she exuded energy. He wished he could tap it and bottle it and sell it to his patients. Hell, what he really wanted was to keep it for himself.

He sat in a large leather recliner chair, called Information and got the number of an old family friend who was well established in neurosurgery in San Francisco. Luckily Jay was on call. He got him on his cell phone and was able to explain how the accident happened, list the boy’s symptoms and the treatment he’d started. Jay assured Matt he had done all the right things. He made a few suggestions and also offered to look at the boy and do a workup if Matt could bring him down there.

“Sounds like you got there just in time with the steroids. Because if you hadn’t and the nerves were totally destroyed…he could be totally paralyzed. If and when the boy can travel, I’d be glad to look at him and do the surgery myself, if that’s what he needs.”

“Thanks, Jay. He’d appreciate that. I’ll get back to you.”

“How long are you staying up there?”

“I don’t know.” Matt glanced out the window into the dark Alaskan night. “That depends on the
weather. This is an isolated spot, accessible only by plane or boat. It doesn’t look like I’ll be flying out anytime soon.”

“Sounds like you got more than you bargained for on this trip.”

Jay could have no idea just how much Matt had gotten out of this trip. This was no time to go into details.

“Talk to you later,” he said.

Then Matt fished a piece of paper from his pocket and tried to make sense of the numbers that would let him call the ship. He picked up the phone and punched in the number. There was no answer in his parents’ cabin. The ship’s operator could only promise to deliver the message. He hung up somewhat relieved. He really didn’t want to hear his father remind him how important this vacation was, maybe their last together, or hear his mother sound wistful about his absence.

“Did you reach them?” Carrie asked, fifteen minutes later. She was in stocking feet, wearing black stretch pants that hugged her hips and her long legs like a second skin, and a pink sweater that drew his attention to the outline of her breasts. It was quite a change from the unisex jumpsuit she’d been wearing. Her hair was damp and curled around her face. The light scent of flowery soap wafted his way. He sucked in a deep breath. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night. A long frustrating night.

“I got ahold of my friend the surgeon. He had a few suggestions, and he even offered to treat Donny, if you can get him down to San Francisco. He’s an expert in spinal-cord injuries and the best person you
could get. But he won’t be able to help until Donny’s condition is stabilized.”

“That’s wonderful. I wouldn’t have known where to turn for the best treatment. I just hope…” She nodded as if to reassure herself as well as him. “We’ll get him there somehow.”

“I called the ship and left a message. I also left your number. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I hope they won’t worry,” she said, one hand on the back of a chair.

“I’m afraid it’s built in. Parents always worry. At least mine do. Don’t tell me your father didn’t worry when you were out flying.”

“I’m sure he did. But he never said anything. Except to remind me a hundred times to watch out for crosswinds. They can come up here when you least expect them.”

“I’m almost glad I didn’t have to talk to my parents,” Matt said. “My father will feel bad that he didn’t insist on coming along. I think he might even be envious. Doctors spend so much time doing what they’ve been trained to do in a tightly controlled environment, this would have been something to tell his patients about. Of course he’s enjoying the cruise, but coming here…” He looked around her cabin as if he’d been transported to a rare and wonderful land. “It’s something special. On the ship tonight is the captain’s champagne reception. It’s a black-tie affair. That’s where they’ll be.”

“I can’t offer you champagne or a black tie. But there’s enough hot water left if you want a shower, and you can take your pick of the clothes in the bedroom on the left.”

“Thanks,” he said, and went up the stairs.

Carrie put another log on the fire and watched the flames rise. It was only fall, but the radiant heat was welcome on a night like this. Even more welcome when the temperatures dropped below freezing in the winter. She sat on the stone hearth to let the heat dry her hair and thought about the man upstairs. What would her father say if he knew she’d invited a stranger to spend the night? The man who right now was standing under the shower with the water pouring down on his broad shoulders, who was soaping his chest while the lather cascaded down his legs….

Carrie took a deep breath and tried to think of something else. She couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been alone too long. Too long since there’d been a man in her life.

“’Bout time,” she imagined her father saying. “Alaska is no place for a woman alone.” She’d accuse him of being a chauvinist and he’d admit it. He wanted her to get married, but not to the man she’d brought home to meet him. As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to worry.

The man she’d brought home today wasn’t any more suitable than the first one. Surely her father would have seen that. It was obvious. She ought to find herself a fisherman, a logger or a hunter. Someone at home in the bush. Someone content to stay there. Because she had no intention of ever leaving God’s country. She told herself to relax. No one was asking her to leave. Least of all a doctor who’d come to help out in an emergency. Maybe he found her interesting. Maybe he really thought she was beautiful. It wouldn’t last. Although she was probably different
from the women he knew, she was probably a little too different.

When he came down the stairs he was wearing her father’s plaid flannel shirt and a pair of outdoor fishing pants with cargo pockets that were baggy but almost fitted him. Her father had been a large man. For a moment it seemed her father had come back. As if she weren’t alone anymore. A tear sprang to her eye.

“Carrie? What is it?”

“It’s the clothes. I’m sorry. I’m fine, really.”

“I’ll go back and change,” he said turning toward the stairs.

She stood and crossed the room, put her hand on his arm. “No, don’t. He’d want you to wear them. He’d want someone to get some use out of them. That’s why I gave most of them away. He hated waste.”

Matt brushed the tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. His touch was so tender, so unexpected, it set off a new round of tears. Instead of stopping, she cried harder. She’d received sympathy when her father died, but not this kind of comfort.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, alarmed, both hands on her shoulders, holding her tight.

“I … I don’t know. I didn’t cry that much when he died. He didn’t want me to. He was tough and he wanted me to be, too. I tried to be, but look at me now. I’m having a delayed reaction.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I’m a mess.”

“Go ahead and cry,” he said. “Nobody can be tough all the time. Everybody has to let go after a
tragedy. It’s only normal. Sometimes it happens sooner, sometimes later.”

“You’re not a psychiatrist, are you?” she said between sniffles.

“No, I’m destined for plastic surgery. But I did a rotation in psychiatry once. It was fascinating and I learned a lot.”

Carrie wondered if it was there he learned how to comfort teary females or did it just come naturally. However it had happened he was an expert. He exuded strength, sympathy and understanding. And so much more.