“This is a casual place, but when the dinner bell rings, it’s time to eat. Supper’s served at 6:00 p.m. Hors d’oeuvres will be set out at five in the living room, and you’re welcome to help yourself from the dry bar. Tea and refreshments will be available from three to four daily, also set out in the living room, lunch is promptly at noon unless you’re out fishing, in which case we’ll provide you with a box lunch, and breakfast is served at seven. If you’re an early riser, coffee and fresh pastries will be on the sideboard by 5:00 a.m.
“The library in the living room is for your reading pleasure, and we ask only that the books remain here at the lodge, as they belonged to my grandfather. There’s a satellite phone available in the registration area if you need to stay in touch with the outside world. Cell phones don’t work out here. As far as fishing goes, both Jack and Charlie are first-class fishing guides and our boats can accommodate four people. There are wading pools just below the lodge, and above the lodge, at the foot of the rapids, there’s good deep holding water that you can cast to from shore.
“As you no doubt know, the Wolf is a salmon river, and this lodge is located approximately twenty miles from the Sea of Labrador. The salmon spawning grounds are another eighty miles upstream. We want to remind you to practice catch-and-release fishing. The Atlantic salmon are a magnificent but endangered species, and we want both this lodge and the salmon to be around for a long, long time. You’ll also be catching brook trout and pike, and Jack can fly you into several nearby lakes if you want to hook into some trophy-sized brookies in the ten-pound range.”
Senna gestured that she was through with her little introductory lecture and smiled. “Other than that, folks, the only rules are that you relax and enjoy yourselves. My name is Senna McCallum, and please don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything at all you need to make your stay more comfortable.”
Most of the guests dispersed to settle into their rooms. Senna spoke to Bert as he started for the guest wing, clutching his room key. “I’ll see that Ida gets another key to the room, Mr. Snell, as I’m sure you’ll be out fishing every day.”
Bert, who was still a bit out of breath from the climb, gave her a quiet smile as he mopped his forehead with a big handkerchief. “Oh, it’s my wife who’s here to fish,” he said. “I’ll be spending most of my time perusing your library and admiring your grandfather’s books. That’s quite a fine collection he has.”
Minutes later she encountered Jack in the kitchen, pacing back and forth with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong?” she said.
“Wrong? One of our very first guests has a heart condition and could barely make it up that ramp. He’s here for a week of fishing and I’m not sure I can even get him in or out of a boat. And what if he has a heart attack?”
“He’ll be fine,” Senna said. “You’ll be relieved to hear that it’s his wife who’s the outdoorsperson. Bert intends to spend his days relaxing on the porch with a good book. Better go get the rest of the luggage. The next batch of guests will be arriving shortly, and I have hors d’oeuvres and dinner to prepare.”
The second planeload arrived by four-thirty, and at five all twelve guests were in the living room, enjoying drinks and Senna’s modest assortment of hors d’oeuvres. Conversation was so lively the room reverberated like a crowded pub at happy hour, and they hardly took notice of Senna laying out the dinner buffet on the dining-room sideboard until the aromas of the food began peaking their interest. When she rang the dinner bell there was a veritable stampede. Senna had put four bottles of wine on the table, two red and two white, and a wineglass at each place setting. She’d never given service like this before, being used to the formal pass and serve of plated hors d’oeuvres, the taking of drink orders, the individual preparation of dinners, but so far the self-serve wilderness lodge routine seemed to be working quite well.
The guests settled in at the table, and she poured their first glass of wine. Their round-table conversations continued, featuring their non-stop fishing sagas and past adventures all around the world. The fire crackled in the fireplace, they ate, they drank, and they seemed quite happy to be there. Senna breathed a sigh of relief in the privacy of the kitchen, where Jack was repairing a broken tip top on one of the guest’s fly rods in between bites of food.
He glanced up from heating a glue stick with a cigarette lighter. “The table looked great tonight, and I can personally vouch for the excellence of the food. Good job, pard.”
“Where’s Charlie?” she asked, firing up the dishwasher in preparation for its first real workout.
“Hiding out at the camp,” Jack muttered, smearing the softened glue on the end of the rod, sliding the new tip top over and adjusting it precisely before the glue hardened. “I think the big crowd scared him off. I’ll bring him down a plate of food and feed the dogs as well, just as soon as I’ve finished with this rod. I told the guests in advance they’d need at least 250 yards of backing on their reels, but from the conversations I’ve already had, I know a few of them didn’t pay any attention. I’ll need to make a quick trip to the lake house to get more backing, and also get the admiral’s fly-tying desk. Should’ve thought to bring it before. We can put it in the corner of the living room for the guests to use. I’ll bring his fly rods, too, as back-ups in case anything breaks.” He glanced up questioningly. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Bring anything you think we’ll need. I’m sure the admiral would approve. When will you leave?”
“After supper. I’ll be back well before dark. Maybe then we can finish that conversation we started earlier today.”
THE DISHES WERE DONE, the kitchen was clean, breakfast foods prepped and stored, coffee set up and ready to go, pastry dough refrigerated. Senna wiped down all the surfaces, wrung the dishcloth out in the sink, and draped it on a peg to dry. She eased a cramp in the small of her back and walked out onto the porch. Most of the guests were gathered in the living room near the big fireplace, some playing cribbage, others just relaxing with after-dinner drinks and talking softly amongst themselves.
Senna wandered down to the dock to sit in solitude and listen to the river. Fish were rising in the pool just below the lodge, and she marveled that none of the guests had inquired about plying the waters.
Jack should be back very soon. She’d stay right here and help him lug her grandfather’s fly-tying desk up the ramp. She lay back on weather-bleached boards still warm from the sun and let the sound of the water lull her.
Time lost all its civilized dimensions out here in the wild. The last colors of sunset faded gradually from the sky. True dusk, the blue twilight hour, had arrived, and still no Jack. Senna sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. Damn the man, was she fated to spend the rest of her life worrying about him? The thought gave her pause. The rest of her life worrying about Jack? What on earth was she thinking of? He was as much of a loner as the wolf that had howled its heart out to the northern lights last night. He was a bachelor through and through. No woman would ever tame the wild heart of that man. Certainly not in a few short weeks…
Senna gnawed on a fingernail and stared at the black ribbon of water that rushed past the dock. The idea of staying in Labrador had been on her mind pretty nearly constantly during the past two days. But how could she? Even if she did decide to keep her half of the business, she’d need to return to Maine and work pretty much nonstop to earn the money just to help keep the lodge afloat for the summer. The construction debts weren’t all paid off yet, the monthly bank payment was hefty, the summer money hadn’t started to trickle in, operating costs would be high, and her grandfather’s life insurance policy and medical bills might be a long time getting paid by the insurance companies. She couldn’t count on that to bail them out.
If she decided to remain partners with Jack, she’d have to leave. If she decided to sell to Earl Hammel she’d have to leave. Whatever she decided, she’d be heading back to Maine, and the thought scared her. She’d only been here two weeks, bu
t already she couldn’t imagine life without Jack. The fact that he didn’t seem to feel the same way only added to her dilemma.
The roar of his plane thundered into hearing range and she pushed to her feet, craning her eyes in the deepening murk, but the plane touched down before she ever saw it and taxied around the river bend toward the dock. The side door opened and Jack jumped out. “I brought along a surprise for you,” he said, bending to tie the plane off and then reached inside to help someone out. “Senna McCallum, meet Goody Stewart,” Jack said as he handed a stalwart woman in her late sixties or early seventies safely onto the dock. Goody was squarely built with dark-gray hair pulled back in a tight bun and a hardworking, no-nonsense Scottish look about her. She was wearing dark slacks, black rubber boots, and, over her sweater, a red-and-black wool Filson jacket like the old-time woodsmen wore. She looked perfectly capable of handling just about anything.
Senna was so happy to see her that she nearly flung her arms around the older woman. “I’m so glad to meet you at last,” she said, stepping forward to take the older woman’s hand. “And I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.”
“And I you, m’dear,” Goody replied warmly, her dark eyes sincere. “Your grandfather spoke very highly of you. He told me that one day you’d come here, and once you saw it you’d never leave.”
Senna stared at the older woman. “He said that?”
“Aye, he did, and you’re just as beautiful as he said you were.”
“He said I was beautiful?”
“Smart and beautiful. Meant a great deal to him, that you had such a keen mind. Jack tells me you’d be needing some help around here, with the cooking and such. The admiral was counting on me, and though he’s gone, God rest his dear soul, I feel as if I still belong here. And tha’ knows, too, I miss my coopies.”
“Please, come up to the kitchen and I’ll fix you something to eat.”
“I’ve eaten, m’dear, but I’d share a cuppa. It’s been a long day. I brung something for ye, though,” she said, turning back toward the plane. “It’d be in my satchel.” Jack reached back into the passenger compartment and handed out a big, soft-sided embroidered bag with sturdy handles, setting it on the dock with a heavy thump. Goody opened it and drew forth a dark wooden box with brass hinges and a brass hasp. She handed it to Senna. “It’s your grandfather’s ashes,” she explained. “I picked them up at the crematorium, like I promised him I would.”
Senna took the box in her hands, shocked into speechlessness both by the unexpected weight of the box and what it contained.
“He wanted them scattered here, y’see,” Goody said. “I promised I’d see to that, too, and so I brung him along with me. I hope you don’t mind.”
Senna shook her head, hoping she didn’t appear too rattled. “No, no, of course not. That was very thoughtful of you.”
“Aye, well, I promised. I’ll be goin’ up to see my kitchen, then.”
When Goody started resolutely up the ramp, moving spryly for a woman of her years, Senna stared back down at the box. “You might have warned me,” she murmured beneath her breath.
“I told you I had a surprise.”
“I thought you meant Goody Stewart.”
“I did,” Jack admitted. “I had no idea she was going to haul the admiral’s ashes out of her satchel. Sorry about that.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You okay?”
Senna nodded. “Yes. I’m glad she brought him. I think he’d want to be here on opening day. But…where shall I put him?”
Jack took the box from her and set it back in the plane. “His ashes will be safe there until you decide where to scatter them. Besides, the admiral always loved flying in this plane.”
“Shouldn’t you and Goody be the ones who decide where to put his ashes?”
“We’ll talk about those details later. Help me unload the desk.”
“How did you manage to bring Goody with you?” Senna asked as the two of them eased the fly-tying desk out of the plane’s passenger door.
“I got back to the lake house and listened to phone messages. The very first one was from Goody, saying she’d left her job in St. John’s, was back in Goose Bay and ready to go to work at the lodge, so I loaded up the desk and the supplies and picked her up. Good timing, huh?”
“Pretty damn wonderful, as a matter of fact.” Senna spoke with heartfelt enthusiasm.
Within minutes of Goody’s arrival Senna understood Jack’s undying pledge of love for the woman, and Charlie surprised everyone by showing up, sneaking in the kitchen door and flinging himself into the buxom woman’s arms in an astonishing display of affection. “Ah, bye, I’ve missed ye, too, and that much!” Goody said, returning the boy’s hug. She held Charlie at arm’s length and scrutinized him with a beaming smile. “You’ve been toeing the line, then?” Charlie nodded. “Aye, that’s good. Where’s that wonderful small dog of yours? Ah, there she be, under the table waiting for scraps, just like always. She’s been behavin’, too, then?”
“Ula’s a wonderful dog,” Senna said as Charlie fidgeted, no doubt thinking about the missing coopies his crackie had eaten.
“Good, good. I’ve missed your storytelling, bye.” Goody glanced at Senna. “It’s me eyes, y’see. They’ve gone blotty and I can’t read like I used to, but Charlie, here, he’d sit in the kitchen and read aloud from the admiral’s books while I fixed supper. It was a wonderful thing, and I’ve missed it sore.”
Senna poured mugs of tea for everyone and they gathered near the woodstove for warmth while Goody asked questions about the lodge, the meal preparations and the two women Jack would be bringing in to help her that week. “Jack tells me he’d never have managed the start-up without ye, and he’s not one for admittin’ he needs help,” Goody said. “The admiral used to say that Jack was all wool and a yard wide without an inch of quit, which is why he liked having him for a partner.” She took another sip of tea. “Jack tells me you’ll be stayin’ on for another two weeks, then?”
Senna caught Jack’s brooding glance across the room and looked away, rising abruptly from her chair to tidy things that weren’t messy. “I thought I might.”
“It was awful good of you to come and help young Jack,” Goody said. “As strong and capable as he is, every man needs a good woman to point him in the right direction. And now I’m going to have to excuse myself. I left St. John’s only this morning and it’s been that long and tiring of a day.” She set aside her cup and pushed to her feet. “If you could show me where I’ll be staying, I’d be that grateful.”
“Charlie, take Goody’s satchel and show her the cook’s cabin,” Jack said, and when the two of them had left the kitchen he picked up the mugs and carried them to the sink. “Imagine that. Three hired women. First a famine, then a feast,” he said.
“We’ll still need another guide, even after George Pilgrim’s nephew arrives,” Senna pointed out.
“George will fit that bill perfectly.”
“He just had surgery and told you he needs treatments. Guiding can be pretty strenuous work, can’t it?”
“Nah. Guiding’s easy. Nothing to it. You don’t know these native Labradorians, Senna. They’re the toughest people on the planet, and if anything can cure George, it won’t be any fancy treatments given in any fancy hospital. It’ll be living out here in this wild place. I’ll call him first thing in the morning.” He shut the water off, wiped his hands on a dish towel, then turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Now, about the rest of that conversation we started this afternoon…”
Senna sighed. “I didn’t mean to whine about money matters. I’m just worried, that’s all.”
“Don’t forget, at the end of the week we’ll have a chunk of change coming in when these guests settle up. Things’ll look different then. And the admiral’s life insure payment is bound to help, when it arrives. I know how much money you’ve sunk into this place already and I know how it feels to watch your life s
avings vanish overnight, but it’ll all be worth it, Senna. I swear to you. You’ll get your money back and then some. And in the meantime you get to live in this beautiful peaceful place. That’s worth a whole lot, isn’t it?”
Before she could respond, Jack straightened and crossed to where she stood, closing his hands on her shoulders. “To hell with Earl Hammel and his need for big tax write-offs,” he said, his gaze intense. “Keep your grandfather’s dream. Don’t sell your future down the river just because you’re scared today. We can make this work. I know we can. Have a little faith in me.”
“And just how are we going to pay the hired help in the meantime? With I.O.U.’s and faith?” Senna regretted the words the moment she spoke them, but it was too late to take them back. Jack’s hands dropped from her shoulders and he abruptly took his leave.
TWO HOURS LATER, she was lying in the top bunk of the cook’s quarters rehashing her last conversation with Jack, during which he still expressed no personal interest in her other than as his business partner, and listening to Goody Stewart. She’d never in her life heard anything remotely like the snores that dear woman was producing. There was no way she was going to get a wink of sleep, and in a few more hours it would be daylight and time to get breakfast going. Each time she thought Goody was going to stop, the silence lasted only moments before the snoring began again, even worse than before. No doubt about it, her grandfather must have lost his hearing in his later years…or maybe that was the real reason why he hadn’t married her. If she were going to be of any use at all in the morning, Senna needed to get some sleep.
Senna climbed out of the bunk, pulled on her clothes in the darkness and gathered up her blankets. Chilkat was waiting by the door when she opened it as if he knew her intent and shared her sentiments. Together, the two of them slunk out into the chill night air and made a beeline for the lodge, where they adjusted themselves on the big couch in front of the fire, sighed simultaneously with relief, and fell instantly to sleep.
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