by Bonnie Leon
Richard reached around Kate and opened the door. “Night, Mrs. Evans.”
All the way to town, Kate wondered if she’d made a mistake in accepting Richard’s invitation. What if he expected something more than friendship?
She seemed to be the only one worrying. He was relaxed and talked about inconsequential things. By the time they reached the theater, Kate felt more comfortable. Maybe they could be just friends.
When Kate stepped into the line of people waiting in front of the theater, she spotted Mr. and Mrs. Parkins from church. She groaned, knowing Mrs. Parkins would jump to conclusions about her and Richard.
Wearing her sweetest smile, the woman approached. “Kate. Richard. How wonderful to see you two.”
“Evening, ma’am,” Richard said.
“Hello.” Kate had heard the excitement in the woman’s voice. She would tell everyone she knew that she’d seen them together. Kate frantically searched for some way to explain why she was with Richard.
“Kate and I are crazy about Shirley Temple movies,” Richard said. “So, we decided since we’re friends we might as well see it together.” He smiled. “Friends. We’re just longtime friends.” He grinned.
“Oh. Well of course.” Mrs. Parkins took a step back. “Enjoy the movie.” She walked toward her husband.
Kate buried a giggle beneath her hand. “Thanks, Richard. I appreciate that.”
“No problem.” He paid for their tickets and opened the theater door. Kate stepped inside. She loved the atmosphere. It reminded her of Saturday matinees as a child. “Do you remember when we used to come down on Saturday afternoons?”
“Oh yeah. Silent movies. I never was a fast enough reader.” He leaned against her. “But I liked it when you read the captions to me.”
“You liked the snacks,” Kate said.
“Still like Hershey bars.” He grinned. “Figure I’ll get myself one before we sit down. You hungry?”
“Maybe.” Kate moved to the snack bar and studied her options. “Milk Duds sound good.”
Richard stepped up to the counter. “One box of Milk Duds, two Hershey bars, and a bag of popcorn.” He looked at Kate. “You want something to drink?”
“How about a Coke.”
“Two Cokes, please.” Richard slid the change across the counter.
As they headed for the theater, Kate looked at him. “Some things never change.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, stuffing the candy bars into his shirt pocket, while supporting the bag of popcorn against his chest and holding his pop with the same arm.
“You love to eat.” She chuckled. “You won’t want anything afterward.”
“Wanna make a bet?” he chuckled.
When Kate dropped into her seat, she felt relaxed and happy. It seemed like forever since she’d done something as simple as go to a movie. Life in Alaska, with its joys and sorrows, seemed far away.
After a rousing ending to Captains Courageous, the screen went black and the theater lights came on. Richard and Kate headed for the lobby.
“That was a good movie,” Kate said.
“They both were.”
“What about the cartoon? You’re not a fan of Donald Duck?”
“I absolutely am.” Richard draped an arm over Kate’s shoulders and gave her a teasing hug.
When they stepped out of the theater, cold night air nipped at them. It had settled over the valley in a hurry, and now frost glistened in the car lights on the street.
Kate bundled deeper into her sweater. “It’s cold. Too cold.” She hurried her steps. “I need to get home.”
Richard ran around and opened the truck door for her, then slid in behind the wheel and started the engine. They hurried toward Kate’s.
“I should have stayed home.”
“Calm down,” Richard said. “It’s not that cold yet. I’m sure everything’s fine.”
“I hope Dad has help,” Kate said, gazing at the rows of trees as they drove past. Lights bounced through the orchards and most of the farms had smudge pots burning already.
When they headed up the driveway, Kate saw her father and mother out among the trees. “Stop here,” she said. The truck was still moving when Kate opened the door and stepped out. Richard left the lights on so Kate could see as she ran across the orchard to her parents. “How bad is it?”
“We’re staying on it,” her father said. “The only trees we’ve got to worry about are the late apples. Can you grab some of those cans and set them out?”
“Sure.” Kate hurried to her father’s truck and grabbed a batch of buckets.
Richard picked up two cans of kerosene and followed her. “I’ll pour the fuel.”
“Thanks.” Kate set a bucket down in the center of the row. She wished she weren’t wearing her dress shoes; they made walking difficult. Richard poured fuel into the bucket and Kate lit it off. The flame illuminated his face. “Even though it wasn’t the best timing, thanks for tonight.”
“I shouldn’t have asked, not with the possibility of a freeze.”
“I wanted to go.”
He smiled. “Okay. So let’s save as many apples as we can.”
Working frantically, Kate and Richard moved down one row and then on to the next.
Two laborers who’d been staying on at the farm set out pots several acres away. Kate’s parents joined forces in the next orchard. It took more than an hour to get the pots out and lit. By the time they’d finished, Kate was exhausted. She stood with her hands on her hips and gazed out over the farm. It looked eerie with flickering flames and smoke illuminated in the light.
Her father joined her. “Good work, Kate.”
She leaned against him, enjoying the feel of his arm around her. She felt safe. “Will the apples be all right?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.” He picked an apple off a tree and using a pocket knife, cut it open. He studied the fruit. “This one looks good, just a little frozen around the outside edges. Didn’t get into the core.” He moved to another tree and picked an apple, cut it open. “Same here.”
Kate sat on the tailgate of the truck. Even in the cold she felt hot. She took in a deep breath of gratitude. She exhaled and the air fogged. “Where’s Angel?”
“We thought it would be better if she stayed indoors.” Kate’s father leaned against the side of the truck. “Thanks for your help.” Taking off his hat, he rotated it in his hands and then resettled it on his head. “I think we’re going to be fine.”
“I should have been here.”
“You couldn’t have known. You worked all day—no reason not to go out and have some fun. You’ve had little of it.”
Richard sat on the tailgate beside Kate. “It was my fault. I asked her out. I knew it was supposed to get cold tonight.”
“Well, at least you were here to help. I needed you.”
Richard gave him a nod. “I’ll be here anytime.” He looked down at Kate and his look implied he meant that for her too.
She purposely bumped against him, thankful for his friendship. It had been right for her to go to Alaska. She needed to live her adventure, but now it was time to learn to be content with a simpler life.
— 23 —
Paul set his medical bag and a box of supplies on his kitchen table. He needed to restock for his next trip out. He went through the bag to see what items he was short on, then sorted through the box of supplies, replacing sutures, sterile gauze, a thermometer that had broken, two bottles of aspirin, and one bottle of morphine, which he needed for the worst of injuries. Morphine wouldn’t have helped Carl Gladwell.
An image of the bloodied man burst into his mind. He wondered how Carl’s family was managing. More than likely, his wife and children had moved back into town or were living with family.
He slid a bottle of alcohol into a pocket on the inside of the bag and then dropped in adhesive tape. He closed the satchel and set it on the bureau in his bedroom. He’d be prepared if he were called out on an emergency. He was
scheduled for a trip later in the week.
The dogs started barking and Paul looked out the window. Lily was in the yard and she’d stopped to visit the dogs. She carried Theodore in a side sling. The dogs sniffed at the baby. Teddy, as Lily called him, gazed at the animals, his head bobbing. He wasn’t old enough to hold his head up well.
Lily walked toward the cabin, and Paul opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “Hi. What brings you here?”
“It’s sunny and almost warm, so I thought Teddy and I ought to get a little fresh air and sunshine.” She caressed the baby’s nearly bald head. “He likes to be outside.” She looked up at Paul. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. I was just stocking up my medical bag.” He moved onto the porch. “How’s he doing?”
“See for yourself.” She walked up the steps, hefted the chubby baby out of the sling, and handed him to Paul. “Do you mind if I get a drink of water? I’m thirsty.”
“Help yourself.” Holding the infant against his chest, Paul stepped aside to allow Lily into the house. He followed and closed the door. Hefting the baby, he smiled at him. “You’re a big boy.” He glanced at Lily. “He’s strong. He’s already trying to hold up his head.” Theodore’s chin dropped to his chest. “Well, sort of.”
“He can only hold it up a few seconds,” Lily said, taking a cup out of the cupboard and filling it from the hand pump.
Theodore grinned.
“And he’s smiling too?” Paul bounced him. “I’d say you have a precocious young boy here.”
“I don’t think he knows he’s smiling.” Lily looked at her son with devotion. “Mama agrees with you, though. She says he’s real smart, that she can tell. I just think he’s lovable and sweet.” She sipped from the cup. “He sleeps most of the time.”
Paul cradled the baby in one arm and smiled down at him. “He looks like you.”
He bounced the baby gently, his heart squeezing. He’d never been able to hold his own son. He had never taken a breath. If he’d lived, he would be six years old. Paul remembered when Susan was pregnant he’d imagined how it would be—he’d teach him to hunt and fish. Maybe he’d grow up to become a doctor one day, like his old man. And then the dreams had ended.
“When he gets older, maybe I’ll take him fishing,” Paul told Lily.
“Sure,” she said and laughed. “But it’ll be awhile.”
Paul studied Theodore. It would almost be like having a son of his own. He could help Lily and be Theodore’s Uncle Paul. The idea made him smile.
Lily stroked Theodore’s cheek. “He looks more like his father than me.”
Paul handed the baby back to Lily. “Did you ever hear from his father?”
“No.”
“Hard to believe a man’s not interested in his own son.”
With a shrug, Lily took Theodore and propped him against her shoulder. “I don’t care anymore.” She gently patted the baby’s back. “It’s just me and Teddy. We don’t need anyone. And there won’t be a man who’d take me now.”
Then acting as if the subject hadn’t even been brought up, she said, “Mama asked me to come and see if you wanted to go into Anchorage tomorrow. Me and Teddy are going with Daddy to get supplies.”
“I already made a trip in, but I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery. You sure you won’t be too crowded?”
“Daddy’s already got a lot of the winter staples, so it should be fine.”
“Okay. What time you leaving?”
“First light. It’s a long trip there and back.” She headed for the door and stepped outside. “It’ll be Teddy’s first trip to Anchorage. I wonder if he’ll like being in the boat.” She kissed the top of his head, then settled him in the sling. “I hope the weather stays clear.” She glanced at the blue sky as she walked down the steps. “See you tomorrow.”
Paul waited on the dock while Lily settled on the middle bench of the boat. He blew on his hands. It was cold, and he wondered if it was a good idea to have the baby out. He kept his concern to himself. It wasn’t his business.
Patrick started up the engine while Paul untied the rope and then sat on the bench in the front. The slight breeze created by the boat’s movement intensified the cold air’s bite. “Hope it warms up.”
“It will,” Patrick said. “It’s barely daylight. Once the sun rises, it’ll heat things up.” He gazed at the deep blue of the morning sky. “It’s a fine day.”
Lily kept the baby bundled inside her coat, cooing at him from time to time. “I hope it doesn’t turn windy when we reach the inlet. The chop can get bad out there.”
“We’ll be fine,” Patrick said, resting his hand on the tiller and keeping his eyes on the water in front of the dory.
“I’m just worried about the baby. Maybe I should have stayed home.”
“He’s got to be tough if he’s going to live out here. Might as well start now.” Patrick steered the boat into the Susitna. He glanced at his daughter. “We’ll have fine weather. I promise. I’d be feeling it in my bones otherwise.” He kicked up the throttle. “Actually I’m feeling kind of spry, especially for a grandpa.” He grinned.
They headed up the Susitna. Ice frosted the banks and the gold, red, and yellow leaves on the trees glistened. “Looks like this will be the last trip of the year,” Patrick said. “Won’t be long before things freeze up.”
Paul gazed ahead. “Hope we’ll see some wildlife—whales, sea lions, or otters.”
“Me too.” Lily looked at the brightening sky. “And I’ll be glad to see the sun.”
Patrick chuckled. “It is nippy.” His brow furrowed, he kept his eyes on the river. His skin was weathered from years spent outdoors in the Alaskan weather.
Paul liked his friend’s toughened look. His life’s experiences could be seen on his face. Paul trusted him more than anyone else in the territory. He had few friends, which suited him fine, but at least those he had were true-blue.
They approached the mouth of the Susitna where it flowed into Cook Inlet. The transition created rough water and the boat bounced as Patrick guided it into the huge bay. Once out in the open, the water calmed into gentle swells. The sun was up, but it was still too early to feel its heat.
Paul pulled his coat closer and kept his hands in his pockets. He searched the waves for any sign of animal life. When his gaze landed on Mount Susitna, he could see the figure of the Sleeping Lady. As always, he remembered Susan and how she’d once gazed up at the sky in the same way. The pang of loss he felt seemed less intense today. Was he beginning to miss her less? The idea brought comfort and fear. He didn’t want to completely let go.
The winds remained calm. The only animal life the travelers saw were sea lions sunning themselves on harbor buoys.
Once in Anchorage, Patrick hurried through his errands. He wanted to be home before dark, so there was no time for lollygagging.
Before noon, they stopped for lunch at a downtown café. Sitting at a booth across from Patrick and Paul, Lily rocked back and forth with Theodore against her shoulder. He was fussing. “Please, let me eat, and then I’ll feed you,” she told him.
When a waitress came to the table, Patrick scanned his menu. “I think I’ll splurge today. How about chicken and dumplings, and a piece of mince pie for dessert?”
Lily moved Theodore to her other shoulder, but his whimpers were growing louder. “I’d like an egg salad sandwich with a piece of apple pie.”
The waitress wrote down the order and turned to Paul.
He was still reading the menu. “Hmm. I . . . guess I’ll have a slice of ham with baked beans.” He slapped the menu closed. “And, how about a piece of lemon cake for dessert?” He smiled at the waitress.
“Oh and bring us some coffee too, please. We need warming up,” Patrick said.
The baby’s whimpers had turned into demanding wails. Lily bounced him, but it didn’t help. “He’s hungry. I’ll have to feed him.” She looked around, searching for a place with privacy.
“Ho
w about the lavatory?” Patrick nodded toward a door in the back of the café.
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Don’t see any other choice.” Patrick rested his arms on the table in front of him. “Maybe you can feed him just enough to quiet him down.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.” Lily stood and walked to the lavatory and disappeared inside with Theodore wailing. Some customers watched, their expressions showing irritation.
“I’ll be done eating before she finishes feeding that baby. He’s got a big appetite.” Patrick took off his hat and set it on the bench beside him. His jovial mood faded. He glanced at the lavatory door. “That Lily, she’s a good mom. I feel bad that she’s got such a tough road ahead. It’s not easy being a mom, especially when you got no husband. And people have kept away.”
“They’ll get over it.”
“That little boy’s special . . .” Patrick’s eyes glistened. “He doesn’t deserve to be treated no different from any other kid.”
Paul nodded. “People who reject him wouldn’t be good for him anyway.” He reached across the table and rested his hand on Patrick’s arm. “It’ll work out fine. You and Sassa are good parents and you’ll be good grandparents. He’ll grow up to be a fine man.”
Patrick nodded, took a handkerchief out of his back pocket, and blew his nose. “And no matter what anyone says, Lily’s a good girl.”
“She is, and some man will come along who loves her, who’ll be a good husband and father.”
The waitress returned with coffee and cups. She filled the cups and left.
“I hope you’re right about her finding a husband.” Patrick took a drink of his coffee. “In the meantime, Sassa’s enjoying being a grandma.” He managed a smile.
Patrick and Paul were nearly finished eating by the time Lily emerged. “Sorry it took so long. He was really hungry.” Lily sat down with the baby cradled against her shoulder.
“I’ll take him while you eat,” Paul said, scooping up his last bite of lemon cake. He pushed the plate aside and reached out for Theodore.