by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel
This felt good, natural. Explaining math concepts to kids gave her a sense of satisfaction she’d never gotten from the equipment and tool rental business. But somebody had to look out for Mom’s interests. Could she do both?
She drove home and walked past the For Sale sign in her yard to collect her mail before she went in. A lumpy padded envelope sat atop the usual bills and credit card offers. She tore the flap and carefully poured the contents onto the kitchen table.
Her cell phone tumbled out, not the replacement phone but the one she’d had with her on Brazzle Creek. A red flash drive rested beside it. She reached inside the envelope and found a short note from Chris. Apparently, a group of kayakers found the dry bag hung up on a tree and returned it to Sam.
Wow. She never expected to see that phone again. And what was on the drive? She plugged it into her computer.
Pictures. Copies of all the photos on Sam’s camera. Come to think of it, she’d never given him her email address. The otters were there, sliding down the bank. The bear cubs. Pictures of the trees and sky and the river. Pictures of her she hadn’t even known Sam took, playing with the dog or gazing off into the distance. She looked silly in her oversize waders, but she was always smiling.
Dana clicked through the photos until she reached the last one. The one she’d taken of Sam oaring the raft just before they reached the rapids. Strong arms pushing the oars through the water, a smile on his face, blue sky behind him. Strong, competent, wise.
What was it he said? You can either paddle your own boat, or you can throw up your hands and let the current carry you wherever it will.
She gazed at the picture until her computer slipped into sleep mode. I’m trying, Sam, paddling as hard as I can. I just hope it’s enough.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAM PAID THE taxi driver and unlocked his front door. Silence greeted him. According to Chris’s text, he’d taken Kimmik and gone camping with a German backpacker he’d just met. Odds were good she was a blonde. Chris specialized in blondes, especially the ones with a built-in exit strategy like overseas citizenship. Sam went to the refrigerator for a beer and took the first swallow without any sign of a deranged woman bursting into the room pointing a flare gun at him.
He smiled to himself and took another sip. Typical Dana. Grabbing the first weapon she could find to confront what she thought was an armed intruder instead of hiding and calling the police. A hundred and ten pounds of raw courage, and she didn’t even know it. Damn, he missed that girl.
He rubbed his elbow, still sometimes stiff but healing nicely. He’d had to skip a rotation to Siberia due to the injury, but they’d managed to juggle personnel until his cast came off. Sam had just finished a four-week hitch, successfully completing two wells that had come in far above forecasts. Ethan would be pleased.
In fact, his boss had hinted he had some important news once Sam was back in town, which probably meant Sam’s time in Siberia was coming to an end. Everything was coming together exactly how he’d planned it. Odd that he didn’t feel more excited about the whole thing. But then, he had been traveling for three days. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, the world would look better. Yeah, he’d go with that.
* * *
IN THE MEETING the next morning, Ethan greeted Sam like a long-lost brother, almost gloating to the other supervisors about the success of the Siberian project. Sam made sure the other members of his team got credit, too, but to hear Ethan talk, you’d think Sam had performed some sort of miracle in Russia instead of simply doing his job. Finally, the spotlight turned to other business.
“Walt Chrism has announced his retirement in three months.”
Sam looked up. Walt was a fixture up on the slope, part of the glue that held the whole operation together. Right out of college he’d worked under Tommy, and Tommy had nothing but good things to say about him. Since that time, Walt had stayed in Alaska, working his way up until he was one of three heading the whole operation at Prudhoe Bay. The organization would be hard-pressed to find anyone with the experience and commitment to Alaska to fill his shoes.
Once the meeting was over, Ethan slapped Sam on the shoulder. “Got a few minutes?”
“Sure.” Ursula was in town running errands and Sam had agreed to meet her for lunch, but that wasn’t for another hour.
“Then let’s step into my office. I have some things to show you.” Ethan tossed a folder onto Sam’s lap. The papers inside spelled it all out. A promotion, overseas posting with frequent travel and an impressive bump in pay. Plus, various overseas bonuses and perks.
It meant leaving Alaska and living in an apartment in a big city. Not the sort of place he was likely to hear the call of a loon or see eagles and moose on the trails right outside his backyard. But it was a significant step forward in the company, not to mention a lucrative one. And he would be meeting with people all over the world, growing his reputation within the company and in the industry.
It was all happening like Tommy said it would, back when he encouraged Sam to take advanced classes in high school. You have the brains. Make the grades. Earn yourself some scholarships and with an engineering degree under your belt, you can go far. If you’re willing to put in the work, the rewards will come. I guarantee it.
Tommy would probably be amazed at the salary figure quoted. Not that money was the driving factor. If it were money he was after, Sam could have taken the funds from Wayne Raynott’s estate, but he didn’t want it that way. He wanted to earn it himself, to show Tommy he was right to have faith in him.
When Dana disappeared, she’d taken the legal papers with her. Chris urged him to make a claim against the estate, but Sam couldn’t. He’d had a lawyer draft up a document renouncing any interest in the Raynott estate and had Chris send it to Dana. She needed the estate settled quickly to get the money for college.
No response. Sam wasn’t sure if she’d claimed the inheritance or not. From what Chris said, when she left she had no intention of accepting money from her father, even to spend on tuition. He just hoped she’d changed her mind.
After all, she had nothing to feel guilty about. How could she be responsible for what her father had done years before she was ever born? Her father may have been, at best, a greedy opportunist, but Dana was just the opposite. She always did the right thing for the people who depended on her, like her mother, and the kids she tutored at the shelter, and even Sam when he was injured.
If only the right thing hadn’t been to return to Kansas. Yes, her mother needed her. So did the shelter. But darn it, Sam needed her, too.
Wait—where did that thought come from? Yes, he liked having her around, but he didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone. Sam was self-sufficient. Maybe he’d felt something for Dana he’d never felt for any other woman, but Dana was gone and it was time to concentrate on his career. He would be fine. More than fine. He’d be great.
“Sam, hello? Don’t you like the offer?”
Sam snapped back to the present. Woolgathering when his boss was trying to make him a job offer. Real professional. He focused on Ethan’s face. “It’s a great opportunity. When do I need to let you know?”
Ethan frowned. “I didn’t realize you’d need time to think about it.”
Sam shrugged. “Always take time to study a situation before a major decision. Didn’t you tell me that?”
Ethan laughed. “I guess I did. Okay, take a little time. But not too much. It’ll require some work behind the scenes to move everyone around and cover all the positions.”
“I’ll do that.” Sam stood and shook his boss’s hand. “Thanks, Ethan.”
When Sam arrived at the diner, Ursula was already waiting in a booth, sipping a cup of tea and studying the menu. She must have finished her errands more quickly than she expected. She stood to greet him. “So, how was the meeting this morning?”
&nb
sp; “Just fine. I got the promotion they’ve been hinting at. It’s based out of London and involves traveling around the world, troubleshooting.”
“That’s wonderful.” Ursula wrapped him in a hug. “Tommy would be so proud.”
“I wish he could be here.”
“You and me both.” Ursula stepped back and they settled into the booth. She studied his face. “So why aren’t you happy?”
“I am happy.”
“I’ve seen happier faces waiting in line at the DMV. What’s wrong?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess now that it’s here, I’m realizing I’ll have to leave Alaska. I’ll miss Anchorage.” He shrugged. “I’ll miss you and Chris.”
“I’ll miss you, too, but I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It was.” Sam sat up straighter and spoke more decisively. “It is. Tommy always said I could do it if I tried, and he was right.”
She paused for a moment before speaking. “Tell me about the job.”
“Basically it’s advising. I’d be traveling around the world helping out with the most difficult projects in places like Norway, Azerbaijan, Trinidad and Dubai.”
“It sounds important. They must have big plans for you.”
“I think so.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Sam opened his menu, cutting off any more discussion. He’d worked hard to prove himself, and this assignment traveling the world was exactly the life he wanted.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that, eventually it would be true.
* * *
JERRY STOOD WITH his back to the door, bending over a golf ball when Dana arrived. She knocked on the door frame. “Jerry? Got a minute?”
He putted and missed. Scowling, he turned to lambast whoever had upset his concentration, but faked a smile when he saw it was her. “Hello, Dana. I always have time for Wayne’s daughter.”
“Good, because there’s someone here to see you.” Dana motioned to a man wearing a red power tie with his dark suit that had been standing behind her.
He strode into the office and offered his hand. “Mr. Brinkman? I’m Morris Hollister, one of the trustees for Mr. Raynott’s estate.”
“Hello.” Jerry shook the man’s hand as if it were a ticking bomb. “Have a seat. Dana, perhaps we can talk later.”
“Actually, I’d prefer that Dana stay.”
Jerry shot her a questioning look but nodded and settled into his desk chair. “What brings you here today?”
Mr. Hollister gestured for Dana to sit in one of the chairs in front of Jerry’s desk and claimed the other one. “I understand you’ve been checking on the performance of some of the employees.”
“I don’t know how you know that—” Jerry shot a look across the office toward Heather’s desk “—but yes, I have. Got to stay on top of things, you know. Can’t settle for the status quo. Have to make sure the employees are earning their keep.”
“I’m glad to hear we’re on the same page.” Mr. Hollister opened a folder and pointed to something on the top page. “Because according to these figures, revenues for the store have decreased thirty-six percent since you took over as manager.”
“Well, there is a learning curve. Wayne knew the business inside and out. Now that I’ve learned the system—”
“Since Mr. Raynott’s death, that trend has only accelerated.” He turned a page. “I have several documented customer complaints that common tools they need are unavailable or not working properly.”
“Let me see that. Who’s complaining?” Jerry reached for the papers. “Did Heather tell you that?”
Mr. Hollister held them out of his reach. “These reports were given on condition of anonymity, and Mrs. Johnson’s performance isn’t the problem. You are hereby relieved of your position, effective immediately.” Mr. Hollister slapped a stapled stack of papers on the desk. “This outlines the conditions of your severance package. Please read it over and sign.”
“Severance?” Jerry stared at the man. “You want me to leave?”
“Yes. So if you’ll just read over this agreement—”
“Today?”
“I said immediately. The trust has a fiduciary responsibility to make sure the business is competently run, and it is our opinion that it’s in the best interest of the company if you depart as soon as you sign the papers.”
Jerry glowered at Dana and then at Mr. Hollister. He puffed out his cheeks like a blowfish. “You’ll wish you had me back when you try to make sense of the chaos around here. Who are you going to find who can just step in and run the place?”
Mr. Hollister smiled at Dana. Dana watched as realization finally dawned on Jerry’s face. She looked him square in the eye. “That would be me.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SAM PADDLED HIS kayak across the lake. A few yellow birch leaves floated on the still water. The loon family was all grown up now, practicing their flying skills in preparation for their upcoming migration.
The last of the pink fireweed bloomed along the bank, signaling the end of summer. It wouldn’t be long before winter arrived in the Anchorage bowl, painting the town in shades of silver and white and changing it so dramatically a summer visitor would be hard-pressed to recognize it as the same city. The profound hush of falling snow, with the city lights casting a glow that seemed to come from inside the forest itself, often gave him the sensation of being inside a snow globe.
Usually the first glimpse of snow on the peaks of the Chugach range was all the motivation he needed to pack away his summer gear and put a coat of wax on his cross-country skis. He would look forward to gliding along the groomed trails that meandered through the city or snowshoeing across the virgin snow of the hillside, breathing the crisp air into his lungs. But today, he couldn’t seem to generate any enthusiasm for the end of summer.
Maybe it was the new job. He’d tentatively accepted, starting when his twenty-eight-day rotation was over. In the meantime, Ethan was working with the management in London. If all went as planned, by the time Sam reported back to work, the position would officially be open, and assuming Sam passed the interview process in London, which Ethan seemed to think was a slam dunk, he would receive a formal job offer.
Sam hated to leave Alaska, but other places had charms of their own. He might have a chance to ski in Norway, or sea kayak in Trinidad, or fish in Scotland. Then again, he probably wouldn’t. When they called on him to troubleshoot, it would be because they were desperate for answers. There wouldn’t be time to play.
That was probably just as well. He didn’t seem to be very good at playing lately. Here he was, in the kayak he loved, in his favorite lake, but he wasn’t happy. It didn’t feel right. It was like looking at a beautifully prepared meal, but when he tried to eat it, it turned to sand in his mouth. Nothing felt right anymore. A piece of his heart was missing, and without that piece, nothing functioned the way it should. And it had been like that ever since Dana left.
How could a couple of weeks in the company of one woman change everything? He’d been fine before, content even. If he’d never met her, he would never have realized anything was missing from his life, but now that he had tasted her company, he craved it constantly. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost was an idiot.
At least he knew from experience how to handle desertion. Move on and keep paddling. He threw himself into work, boning up on the newest technologies while his arm healed, and then putting in fourteen-or fifteen-hour shifts in Siberia, trying to make up for the time he’d missed. He hadn’t had time to think much about Dana then, but now that he was back in Alaska, the strategy wasn’t working so well. Everything he saw reminded him of her. He couldn’t even watch a flock of geese graze on his lawn without wanting to call her to the window to watch. It was pa
thetic.
At least it made the decision easier. Since he couldn’t enjoy Alaska, anyway, he might as well take the overseas job. He could keep his house here, let Chris continue to rent. He was sure Ursula would adopt Kimmik. Maybe someday Sam’s heart would heal and he could come back and once again feel he was home.
He paddled toward the dock. It was settled. In a month or two, he would be moving across the ocean and starting a new job. A new chapter of his life. Moving up, getting ahead, just as he’d always planned. He stowed the kayak on top of his truck and drove home.
The speed bump on his street caused a jolt that knocked over the almost-empty coffee cup Chris had left in the truck, spilling the contents on the floor. Sam muttered a few choice words under his breath. He ought to make Chris clean it up. But Chris’s truck was absent from the driveway, so he ended up doing it himself before he went into the house.
Kimmik came to greet him, tail wagging, when he stepped in from the garage. At least someone was having a good day. “Hey, buddy. Where’s Chris?”
“He’s gone to Seward.” Dana stepped out of the hallway and walked across the living room, stopping several feet away from him. “Something about his friend needing help to sail his boat to Valdez.” She nibbled at her lower lip, watching him with those big brown eyes.
Sam just stared, groping for words. All he could come up with was to state the obvious. “You’re here.”
She nodded. “Chris met me at the airport.”
“He didn’t tell me you were coming.” Which explained why Chris found an excuse to take himself out of the line of fire before Sam got home.
“I know. I asked him not to. I wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m surprised all right.” He took a few steps closer and crossed his arms over his chest. “But not as surprised as I was when you just disappeared without a word.”