by Bonnie Leon
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
He kissed her. “I’ll have to get some things from the cabin.”
“Let me shut down the plane and I’ll go with you. We’ll be gone a few days, so make sure to bring some clothes and things.”
“No problem. Just need to let Patrick know so the boys can take care of the dogs. Then I’ll pack and get my medical bag.”
“I’ll talk to Patrick and Sassa for you.”
“Sounds good.”
Kate shut down the engine and then climbed into the boat. Paul pushed off and headed for the dock. He tied up, gave Kate a hand out, and then walked up the trail toward his cabin, Angel at his heels. Kate followed the track along the creek. When she broke into the clearing at Patrick and Sassa’s place, their dogs charged toward her.
“Hey, boys. It’s just me,” Kate said calmly.
The dogs’ bristles laid down and their tails wagged. The youngest, a pup the Warrens had adopted from the same litter as Angel’s, was the first to reach her. Although larger, he looked just like Angel—a heavy-coated black and silver malamute. He nuzzled Kate’s hand. The two older dogs demanded attention, and Kate gave each a pat, then headed for the two-story cabin.
Sassa stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on an apron. “Good morning. You have something for us?”
“Just a message from Paul. He’s making a run out to the Aleutians with me. We’ll be gone three or four days. He wants to know if the boys can look after his dogs.”
“Oh, sure. No problem. Those boys, they like the dogs.” Sassa smiled, her brown skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes.
“Tell them thanks for me.” Kate wanted to hurry back to the plane—she had a lot of air time ahead of her. But not wanting to seem impolite, she asked, “Where’s Patrick?”
“In the garden. He’s getting some of the peas in the ground.”
“We had snow a couple of days ago,” Kate said.
“Yeah, it does that, but this time of year it doesn’t stay.”
“Have you heard from Lily? How is she?”
Sadness touched Sassa’s brown eyes. “Not so good. She’s missing home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought things were going well for her in Seattle.”
Sassa folded her arms over her plump middle and shook her head. “She’s not happy.”
“Will she be coming back?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I would like it if she did, but I want her to be happy, to have a good life.” Sassa’s lips tightened into a firm line. “I think maybe she doesn’t feel like she fits in, and she doesn’t have any native friends. Most of the people in Seattle are white. I think she’s lonely, and I’m wondering if some people are mean to her because she’s not like them.”
“I hope not. Maybe things will get better.” She glanced up the creek. “I need to get moving.”
“Okay. We’ll see you next week?”
“Next week.”
Kate hurried back down the trail. Paul was waiting at the dock, tossing a stick for Angel.
“You all set?” Kate asked.
“You bet.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” Kate climbed into the boat and they headed toward the plane.
With the boat secured out of the water, Paul followed Kate and Angel into the plane. He stowed his things in back.
“Ready?” Kate asked.
“Yep.” He pulled the door shut and bolted it, then took his seat beside Kate. He looked at her and smiled. “I was hoping I’d see you today.” He leaned between the seats and kissed her, then nuzzled her neck. “I don’t see you enough.”
Kate warmed inside. “Yeah, me too.” She throttled up and they were on their way.
Once in the air, she said, “I have deliveries at Chignik, Perryville, and King Cove. And then we’ll head out to Unalaska.
The weather held as Kate and Paul flew southwest. They stopped in Chignik and Perryville the first day and then stayed over in Perryville, where there were several cases of the flu. Paul doled out aspirin and gave instructions on how to cope with fevers and stomach upsets. When they left the following day, Kate hoped they hadn’t picked up the bug. A lot of those they’d seen had been really miserable.
The second day, they made a delivery to King Cove, a small community that depended almost entirely on local fish canneries for its existence. The village was hemmed in by the ocean, mountains, and treeless hills. There were only a few who needed or had time to see the doctor. Most were native mothers who showed up with little ones with runny noses and sore throats. One man had an infection in his hand from a fish hook that had buried itself in his flesh. Paul cleaned and dressed the wound, and he told the man not to work for a few days, but as he walked away, Paul said to Kate under his breath, “He’ll go straight back to his boat.”
Kate shrugged. “He’s got to make a living.”
They left King Cove under gray skies. Rain spattered the windshield and winds buffeted the Bellanca. “Hope the weather doesn’t get worse,” Kate said just as the plane dropped into a downdraft. She pulled back on the control wheel and rode a current upward.
“Kind of like bronc riding,” Paul said, his voice tight. “I thought Jack usually took this run.”
“He does, but he’s the boss now, so he’s stuck at the airfield taking care of paperwork, shuffling schedules, and rousting up business. Being the boss has its drawbacks.” Kate grinned.
“What happened to Sidney?”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of spearmint gum. “Oh my gosh. I forgot to tell you.” She took a piece of gum, then held it out to Paul.
“No thanks. Tell me what?”
“Sidney sold the airport.”
“He sold it? Why?”
Kate unwrapped her gum and stuck it in her mouth, crumpled the wrapper, and tossed it on the floor. “His father had a stroke.” She chewed.
“Is he going to be all right?”
“Doesn’t sound good. Sidney had to go home to help out, and his mother needed financial aid, so he sold out.”
Paul picked up the gum wrapper. “To whom?”
“Jack.” Kate shook her head. “It’s going to be awful. He was full of himself before and now it’s worse. He fired me the first day.”
“What? Why?”
“We got in an argument.”
“Then who are you flying for?”
“Jack. The whole crew threatened to quit if he didn’t hire me back.”
Paul smirked, then laughed. “I’ll bet Jack hated that. Good for the guys.”
Kate grinned. “Yeah. Working for Jack’s like wrestling with a bear, but it’s better than being without a job. And I can stay in Anchorage. It won’t be easy, though. He thinks he’s the big cheese now, and he’s not keen on me. I could get canned anytime.”
“He’ll keep you. He may be a bully, but he’s not stupid.”
They flew into a bank of clouds. Kate kept a close eye on her instruments, relying on them to keep her on course and level. The winds picked up and buffeted the plane, which shuddered as it flew through swirling gray.
Paul gazed out the window. “Maybe we should have stayed on the ground.”
“I can’t always wait for clear weather, especially out here. There are almost no cloudless days.” Kate kept her voice light, but she watched the controls and prayed the clouds and turbulence would clear.
As they ventured farther out on the chain, the clouds thinned and sun splintered the sky. Below, green hills and mountains stood between the blue of the Pacific Ocean and the dark waters of the Bering Sea. Kate gazed at the splendor laid out below them. “You’d think I’d get used to the scenery, but it continues to take me by surprise. There’s always something new and more beautiful than the day before. It’s one of the things I love about this job.”
Paul gazed at the shimmering ocean stretching to the horizon. “I wish I owned a plane. It would be easier on everyone if I could do my own flying.”
“It’d t
ake a lot of training and time, but you could do it. Of course, I’ve been flying most of my life and this wilderness challenges me all the time. It would take awhile before you’d be ready to go out on your own.” Kate glanced at him. “And one drawback would be that you wouldn’t need me.”
“Oh, I’d need you, just not as a pilot.” Paul’s tone teased.
“Maybe I can give you a lesson one of these days.”
“Just say when and where.”
A crosswind bumped the plane in the side. “Well, today’s not the day.”
They flew over the small community of Unalaska, which sat on a large arching bay hemmed in by treeless, green hills. The earliest spring flowers splashed color across the meadows outside of town, even though the highest knolls were still buried with snow.
Kate put down with no difficulty. When she stepped out of the plane, she breathed in the smell of spring air and the sea. She turned and gazed out over the broad bay. “This is an amazing place. I’m glad Jack was too busy to make it.”
A stocky man with red hair and a beard walked toward them. “Howdy.” He nodded at Kate, then turned to Paul. “I’m Sam Drummond.” He extended his hand and shook Paul’s. “Jack told me you’d be coming. Glad to see you. Store’s running short on staples and the ferry’s not due for another three days.”
“I’m Paul Anderson. But I think you want to speak to Kate.” He nodded at her. “She’s the pilot.”
Kate extended a hand. “Kate Evans.”
Surprise showed on Sam’s face, then he relaxed and smiled. “Never met a woman pilot before, but I heard of you.”
Kate turned to Paul. “Paul’s a doctor, in case anyone in town has need of one.”
“We got a doctor, at least part time. Not that he’s in the office much. Like most folks, he fishes.” Sam rubbed his right shoulder. “I’ve been having a pain right here.” He pointed at a spot at the front of his shoulder. “Maybe you could have a look at it.”
“I’ll be happy to,” Paul said.
After Paul checked out Sam’s shoulder and diagnosed it as an overuse injury, he and Kate had a meal of fish chowder and bread at a local café.
Paul leaned back in his chair and rested a hand on his stomach. “I ate too much. You want to take a walk?”
“That sounds good to me.”
Paul paid the bill while Kate strolled outside to wait. Together they headed for the docks.
Paul rested his arm over Kate’s shoulders and pulled her to his side. “You don’t suppose people will get any wild ideas about the pilot and the doctor, do you?”
“Maybe.” Kate smiled. “I really don’t care what they think.” She leaned in closer.
“Well, if you don’t care, then neither do I.” He smiled down at her and gently kissed her forehead.
They walked along the pier and watched the fishing boats come in. The wind had stilled. The air was alive with gulls and their screeching calls as they searched for tidbits floating in the quay. Fishermen sorted their catch, then cleaned and stowed fishing gear. One man whistled a tune while he worked. He nodded at them as they passed by. Paul felt content and wished every day could be like today.
A sudden sharp breeze splashed whitecaps across the top of the swells. Kate stopped and breathed deeply through her nose. “I love the smell of the ocean.”
Her large amber eyes were alive with pleasure. Paul gathered her into his arms. “I like it too. Always have. But it’s even better sharing it with you. It’s the one thing I really miss, living out on the creek. I’ve got to travel a ways to see the ocean.”
“I never spent much time at the beach. My family only made the trip over the mountains a few times. But I love it.”
Memories bombarded Paul. “Growing up in San Francisco, I was at the beach every chance I got. My brothers and I did a lot of fishing with my dad and my uncles.” He struggled to keep his voice steady.
Kate rested a hand on his arm. “I’ve never been ocean fishing. What kind of fish you figure they pull out of the Bering Sea?”
“All kinds—rockfish, salmon, probably halibut. Wish we had time to go out.”
“We have time. Nothing to do until we take off tomorrow, and there’s plenty of daylight. We just need a boat.” Kate smiled and her eyes filled with mischief, then she hurried toward the man who had been whistling.
He had moved off the pier and was standing in a bobbing dory. Paul trailed behind Kate, and as they approached, the man looked up. His almond-shaped eyes crinkled in greeting, his teeth flashing white against his native skin. “Hello. What can I do for you?”
“We were wondering if you know anyone who’d be willing to take us fishing—just for a little while.”
“Better to go in the morning.”
“We’ll be leaving in the morning.” Kate pouted slightly, then said, “I’m Kate Evans and this is Paul Anderson.”
“Billy Konig.” Billy glanced toward town. “What you doing all the way out here? Too early in the year for tourists and the ferry doesn’t come for another couple of days.”
“I fly for an outfit in Anchorage and had a delivery to make here.”
“I thought Jack Rydell made the run out of Anchorage.”
“He does, but he was busy, so he asked me to fill in.”
Billy grinned. “An improvement, I’d say.”
Kate’s grin revealed how she felt about the statement.
“So, you like to fish?” Billy shoved his fingers up under a knit hat and scratched his head.
“Yes. But I’ve never fished in the ocean.”
He gazed out at the broad bay, then looked back at Kate. “I guess I can take you. But not for too long. My Sophie will be unhappy with me if I miss dinner.”
“I can pay you,” Paul said.
“No. Not necessary. Climb in.” He stashed a bucket in the back of the boat. “Didn’t have much luck this morning. Got plenty of bait.” He sat on the short wooden bench in the back of the boat beside the engine.
Kate and Paul stepped in and settled on the other two benches. Billy pulled the starter and the engine puttered to life while Paul unhooked the rope securing the boat to the dock. Billy headed out into the bay. “I have two poles. Don’t figure you want to use nets, not as much fun.”
“I’ve never net fished,” Paul said.
“We use nets to catch more fish so we can sell to the cannery, but pole fishing means a fight.” Billy smiled. It was hard to tell how old he was. He looked young.
The dory bounced through choppy waters. Paul looked at Kate to see how she felt about going out in such a small boat. She was smiling, seemingly unaware of anything but the pleasure of the elements. Wind whipped her short hair away from her face, and ocean spray left droplets on her skin. She was stunning. The love he felt made his chest feel tight. He reveled in it and feared it all at the same time.
He loved her with a passion, which made the thought of losing her all the more excruciating. He wished she didn’t love flying so intensely. He wasn’t sure he could survive her cracking up and being killed or disappearing somewhere in the immense wilderness she flew. Refusing to allow morose thoughts to spoil their good time, Paul willed them from his mind. “We need to do this more often,” he said with a smile.
“It’s almost as good as flying.” Kate grinned and bundled deeper into her coat.
“You know how to set up the jig?” Billy asked.
“Sure.” Paul reached for a pole.
“There’s the bait.” Billy nodded at a bucket.
Paul lifted out a fish the size of a minnow, secured it to a large hook, and got the pole set for Kate.
“We’ll troll,” Billy said. “Maybe have better luck that way.” He slowed the engine. “Drop your line in and we’ll see if you get a bite.”
Kate lofted the line into the water and then settled back to wait.
Before Paul could get his hook baited, Kate squealed, “I’ve got one!” Her pole bent. She stood and hauled on it as it bowed from the weight of whatev
er was on the end of the line. The boat rocked and Kate nearly lost her balance.
“Careful.” Paul caught hold of her arm. “Don’t want you going overboard.”
Kate stared at her line. “What do I do? It feels like a huge fish.”
“Probably a King. Play him out,” Billy said. “Let him run a little, then haul him back. Get him tired. But be careful so he doesn’t break your line.” His ruddy face was alight with pleasure.
“Here, I’ll show you.” Paul stepped behind Kate and reached around her, getting ahold of the pole. “You want to pull up like this and then let out a little of the line so he can run, but you don’t want him to run too hard or too fast, so keep the line taut.”
“I’m afraid he’s going to get away.” Kate hauled up on the pole.
Paul rested his hands over hers. “You don’t want him to break free.” He lowered the rod slightly, strongly aware of Kate’s warmth and the slight fragrance of Evening in Paris.
Kate glanced at him. She looked so happy. Paul nearly staggered backward at the force of what he felt for her.
“Like this?” she asked.
“Yeah. You got it.” Panic seized Paul and he put space between himself and Kate. He loved her, but the intensity of what he felt was more than he’d bargained for. What had he gotten himself into?
— 7 —
Paul pulled a weed out of the damp garden soil, then straightened and gazed down a row of poles. He envisioned green vines loaded with plump peas winding their way up and around the posts. He could almost taste the sweet vegetables and wished summer’s arrival would hurry.
The pop of a branch caught his attention, and he turned to see Sassa running up the trail that led from her house to his. Sassa never ran. He shoved his spade in the ground, prepared for whatever emergency he might face. When he saw glee in the native woman’s eyes, he relaxed. Curiosity replaced anxiety.
Puffing for breath, Sassa stopped in front of Paul. “I had to tell you.” She pressed plump hands against her ample chest and took in a lungful of air. “Lily’s coming home! Isn’t it wonderful? I can hardly believe it.”
Paul smiled, happy for Sassa and Patrick, but wondering what had happened to bring Lily back to the creek. “That’s great news. Is she visiting?”