by Bonnie Leon
“For a homesteader, you know an awful lot about doctoring.”
He didn’t respond.
Kate returned to the kitchen and set the bowl and cloth in the sink, then filled a pan with water and set it on the stove. She found canned meat in the shed and added it to the simmering water. In the garden, she pulled fresh carrots and green onions and added them to the meat and broth.
Paul slept while Kate cleaned the cabin and washed his clothing. She heated a kettle of water and dumped it into a tub. Using a washboard and a bar of soap, she scrubbed Paul’s shirts. Soon her arms and back ached, and she was more thankful than ever for Helen’s Windsor washing machine.
Once she had his clothes clean, she hung them on a line strung between the shop and a birch tree. She’d never been the domestic type, but doing all this for Paul felt good.
When she checked on him, he was still asleep, so she walked to the Warrens’ place. She needed to let Sydney know she wouldn’t be back today. Angel loped ahead of her. She was less familiar with Patrick’s dogs, so when Kate caught up, the dogs were going through the ritual of raised hackles and sniffing.
Patrick met her on the porch. “I heard the plane a while ago. Figured you’d be long gone by now.”
“Paul’s sick so I stayed.”
“Bad sick?”
“Yeah. He’ll probably be all right, but he needs someone to help him.”
“What’s he got?”
“A throat infection with a fever and a cough. I’ll stay the rest of the day and tonight, but I’ve got to get back to work. I was wondering if Sassa would mind helping out tomorrow.”
“She and the kids are at her sister’s. Won’t be back for two more days.” He scratched his head. “I can come over.”
Kate knew Patrick meant well, but she wasn’t sure she trusted a man to properly care for Paul. “That’s all right. I can stay until she returns.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Could you radio Sidney to let him know I’m safe and that I’ll be here a couple of days?”
“Sure thing. Anything else?”
“I was supposed to meet Mike Conlin. Could you make sure Sidney tells him where I am?”
Patrick raised an eyebrow. “You have a date tonight?”
“No. Nothing like that,” Kate lied, not certain why she felt the need to cover up.
She headed back to the cabin. Paul was awake and his fever was up. She gave him more aspirin and another sponge bath.
That night while he spooned small amounts of broth into his mouth, Kate sat on the chair beside his bed. “How come you know what to do for fevers and all that?”
He swallowed a spoonful of broth and winced, then whispered, “Had a mother who knew everything. And, I’ve had this before.”
It took a while, but Paul managed to get down most of the broth. He looked at her and swallowed with a grimace, then asked, “Can you feed the dogs for me?”
“Sure.”
“There’s dried fish in the cache.” He closed his eyes.
Kate left him to sleep, made sure the dogs were fed, and checked on him periodically to make sure he was all right.
Exhausted, she took a quilt from a shelf and lay on the small sofa in the front room. Angel curled up on the floor beside her. Resting a hand on her companion’s head, she quickly fell asleep. She wondered how Mike felt about her missing their date. It would have been fun, but she didn’t mind lying here on Paul’s sofa.
The following morning, Paul showed no signs of improvement. Kate gave him broth and made sure he drank water and took his aspirin. She cooled his body with another sponge bath. While he slept, she went to work pulling weeds in the garden. That afternoon, he managed to eat a more substantial soup and then slept some more.
Kate woke the next morning to sunlight and warbling birds. She let Angel out, made a trip to the outhouse, and then checked on Paul. He was awake. She rested a hand on his brow. “Fever’s down. How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“Do you need anything?”
“I need to get out of this bed.” He sat up and dropped his feet to the floor. He remained like that for a few moments, tottering slightly. “I’d like to change into clean clothes.”
“Oh, sure.” Kate grabbed clean underclothes, a shirt, and pants and set them on the bed beside him. Then she got his slippers and set them on the floor beside the bed.
Kate hovered, wondering just how to help the big man.
“I can dress myself,” he said gruffly.
“Okay. I’ll be right out here.” Kate hurried from the room and stood just outside the door.
Several minutes later, Paul called weakly, “I could use a hand.”
When Kate stepped into the room, Paul had managed to dress himself, but he sat on the edge of the bed, looking weak. He glanced at her, humiliation on his face. He pushed to his feet but was so unsteady Kate rushed to his side and offered him a shoulder to lean on. They shuffled to the front of the house. He stood at the door, resting against the frame.
“You all right?”
“Just a little dizzy.”
“Maybe you should sit down?”
“No. I’ll be fine.”
Kate watched him, staying close just in case she was needed.
Finally he straightened and stepped onto the porch. “Gotta use the outhouse.”
Thank goodness no more bed pan, Kate thought, feeling the embarrassment.
Jasper, the raven, cawed at him from his perch. Paul shook his head. “Never taught him to say a single word.”
“Ravens can speak?”
“Heard some can if you teach them. But he never got it.” Paul headed toward the steps. “Can you get me that stick over there?” He nodded at a stripped branch leaning against the house.
Kate handed it to him, but couldn’t keep from remaining close in case he needed her to steady himself.
“I can get there on my own,” he said dryly.
She stepped back and watched him slowly make his way down the steps. He’ll be all right, she decided. I wonder if he’s hungry. She returned indoors to start breakfast.
When Paul stepped back inside, he was accompanied by Patrick. The tall, gangly man smiled. “Morning. How you holding up?”
“Just fine.”
Sassa walked in behind the men. “Kate, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”
Paul shuffled to the table and sat. He wiped sweat from his face.
“Good to see you up and about,” Patrick said. “When I stopped in yesterday, you looked pretty bad.”
“Still a little rough, but I’m on the mend.” He glanced at Kate. “Thanks to my nurse.”
“Do you think you could eat some eggs?” Kate asked.
“I’ll try.”
“I can stay and help,” Sassa said. “And so will Lily.”
Paul rested his arms on the table. “I think I can make it on my own now.”
Sassa eyed him in a way that said she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. Finally she said, “Okay. But we’ll stop in to check on you.”
Kate shared breakfast with Paul, then cleared away the dishes and washed them. “That’s it,” she said, drying the last plate and setting it in the cupboard. “I’d better get moving.” “Thanks for the help.” Paul pushed out of his chair.
“You stay put. I’ll get my bag.”
“Appreciate what you did.” His voice sounded raspy.
“Glad I could help.” Kate headed for the door and stopped. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Next week,” Paul said with a nod.
As she walked down the trail, Kate realized she still knew almost nothing about him. She’d been tempted to snoop, but her conscience wouldn’t allow it. After spending nearly three days with Paul, he was still a mystery.
I’ll probably never know. Doesn’t really matter. I like him no matter what he’s hiding.
22
When Kate stepped into the shop, Sidney glanced at her from beneath the ri
m of his cowboy hat. A mass of paperwork sprawled across his desk in front of him. “Morning.” He didn’t smile.
“Why you so grumpy?”
He leaned back and stared at her. Using the tip of his pencil, he pushed up the brim of his hat. “What? I look cranky?” His tone was sarcastic. He flung the pencil onto the desk where it rolled across the chaos of papers. “Government interference—that’s what’s got a burr under my saddle.”
“What’s up?”
“There was a day when pilots could do what they wanted, where they wanted, and how they wanted. No one nosed in. People might have thought we were crazy, but they were grateful. Now the American government is butting in. They want a list of all my pilots. They want to know what you fly and where you fly.” He pressed his elbows on his desktop. “What do they care? They know nothing about our business, nothing about Alaska and what life’s like up here. Bush piloting isn’t a pretty package that you can tie up with a bow. We do what we have to.” He shook his head. “If they have their way, we’ll end up with our hands tied and we’ll be a useless bunch of has-beens.”
Kate rested a hip against Sidney’s desk, took a piece of peppermint out of his candy dish, and popped it into her mouth. “If they knew how many hours we log in during the summer, they wouldn’t believe it.”
“Turn their hair gray.” Sidney picked up a dead cigar from the ashtray and clenched it between his teeth while he tried to light a match.
“Speaking of work . . .” Kate stood. “Any runs for me?”
“Had a call a while ago, a fellow from Idaho. Said he and his wife are staying with friends here in Anchorage, but need to get to Fairbanks. Sounded kind of desperate, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.”
Disappointment filtered through Kate. “At this rate, I’ll never have enough money to buy a place of my own.”
Sidney pressed his back against the chair and gave her a hard stare. “You think you’re the only one hurting? Compared to the rest of the country we’re in the money. At least we have work.”
He picked up a newspaper lying amidst the muddle on his desk. “Seattle Times has a story about folks living in shantytowns. Call ’em Hoovervilles.” He opened to the article. “Says they got ’em all over the country. Got a picture of one right here.” He turned to the page so Kate could see.
She looked at the photograph. “When I flew over Seattle, I saw it. It’s terrible—whole families just trying to survive.”
“Hard to believe people are living in cardboard boxes and abandoned crates. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Kate felt a flush of guilt. “Sometimes the Depression seems far away.”
“Yeah, I’d say we’re not doing too bad up here. When you’re flying, you get paid good money and so do I.” Instead of sounding thankful, though, Sidney’s tone was angry.
Kate wondered what was up. She looked at her hands, studying her short nails. “I do have a lot to be thankful for.”
“You betcha. We all do.” He closed the paper, folded it, and glowered at the paperwork on his desk.
Sidney wasn’t acting like himself. “Is something going on?” Kate asked tentatively. “Has something happened?”
He didn’t answer right away. Finally, he took the cigar out of his mouth and studied it. “My brother lost his job and his house. All our growing-up years, he was the one the family figured would be a success. He’s the studious type, hardworking. Now, he’s hitting the pavement looking for a job, any job.” Sidney picked up the pencil and, holding it between two fingers, tapped the eraser on the desk. “Told him he could come here, but he says Alaska’s not for him.”
“He’ll find something.”
“Yeah. Something’ll come up.” Sidney didn’t sound convinced.
Kate moved to the woodstove. “Won’t be long and you’ll have to light this. Nights are getting cold.”
“We’ve still got a few good weeks left.”
A car pulled up in front of the office. “Hope that’s the rider to Fairbanks.” Kate moved to the window.
A tall man wearing a suit hurried around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. A woman dressed in a stylish pink skirt and a tailored maternity blouse stepped out. Although she was very pregnant, she managed to look elegant. She wore a smart hat with a broad brim that matched her pink skirt. It mostly concealed a chic short hairdo.
The man held the woman’s arm as they walked toward the door. When they stepped inside, Sidney unsuccessfully tried not to stare at the woman’s abdomen.
The man removed his hat. “Morning. I’m Fred Dorsey. I called earlier about a flight to Fairbanks.”
“Right.” Sidney stood and crossed to the man to shake his hand. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“This is my wife, Jean.”
Sidney gave the woman a friendly nod.
“We have family in Fairbanks waiting for us,” Jean said. “We’ve got to get there right away.”
Sidney took the stogie out of his mouth. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, ma’am, but you look like you’re just about ready to have a baby. It’s probably not a good idea for you to fly.”
She smiled and rested a hand on her protruding stomach. “I’m fine, really. I’m not due for another week.” She tipped her head slightly, peering at Sidney from beneath the brim of her hat.
“A week’s not so far off. Babies come pretty much when they want, don’t they?” He put the cigar back in his mouth and puffed. “You’d better stay put. Anchorage has a good hospital.”
Jean tucked a blonde curl in place beneath her hat. “Please. I promised my sister I’d be there. She’s having a baby also, and we’ve always done everything together. Our due dates are the same, and if I don’t make it, she’ll be hugely disappointed.”
Sidney wasn’t convinced. “I’d like to help you out, but you should have done your traveling sooner.”
“I’ll pay extra.” She dug into her handbag.
Sidney shook his head. “It’s not the money. I don’t want you to have your baby on one of my planes.”
“I’m not having it right now. And if I understand correctly, the flight’s not that long.”
Fred stepped forward, his expression earnest. “This means a lot to my wife. I assure you the doctor says she’s fine.”
Sidney gave Kate a sidelong glance.
Kate thought about the money. “I don’t mind, Sidney. I’ll take them.”
Fred looked at Kate, as if seeing her for the first time. “She your only pilot?”
“Right now she is.” Sidney leveled a serious look at Kate. “It’s not a good idea.”
“You heard her. She’s fine. And the doctor gave permission.” “And if she decides to have that baby between here and Fairbanks?”
“What are the chances?”
Sidney thought a moment, then with a shrug said, “Okay by me, but if something goes wrong, it’s not on my head.”
Fred grinned. “Thanks.” He shook Sidney’s hand. “I’ll get our bags out of the car.” He headed outside, Jean following slowly.
Kate grabbed her pack. “See you later.”
“You don’t need the money that bad.”
“You worry too much.”
“That’s my job. Someone’s got to keep the business afloat.” Sidney watched them out the window. “I don’t know. She had that look.”
“What look?”
“Can’t explain it exactly, but I’ve seen it before—right before . . . well, you know.”
Kate laughed. “If you could predict births, you’d be a rich man.” She opened the door. “See you later.”
Mike pulled up just as Kate stepped onto the field. He waved at her, then disappeared inside the shop. A few moments later, he reappeared and loped across the airstrip. “Hey, Kate. Can I catch a ride with you? I’ve got business in Fairbanks.”
He glanced at the man and woman slowly making their way across the airfield. “You have passengers—will that be a problem?”
&nb
sp; “Not at all.” She smiled. “It’ll be nice to have your company.”
“Okay, then.” Wearing a smile, he hurried toward the man lugging two bags and took one from him.
Mike reached out and gently touched Kate’s arm. “Glad we get some time together. Seems all we do is work.”
“That’s how summers are.”
Kate glanced at Fred and Jean. They sat side by side, holding hands. They looked comfortable and content. Kate felt reassured.
“So, you fly much?” Fred asked.
“All the time,” Kate called back. “I’ve been to Fairbanks more times than I can count. The weather’s clear so we ought to make good time—three hours or so.”
“We appreciate you taking us,” Jean said. “It’s extremely important to my sister. Her baby was due five days ago, so I’ve got to get there. She could have it any time.”
“I thought you said you were due the same day?”
Silence answered Kate’s question. She swung around and stared at the couple. “You lied to me.”
“You wouldn’t have taken us otherwise,” Fred said.
Kate turned an accusing look on Jean. “So, you’re past due?”
“We don’t know that. Due dates are mostly conjecture,” Fred said.
Kate thought she saw Jean wince. “I ought to turn this plane around right now.” She was furious.
Mike leaned close and said into her ear, “Simmer down. It’ll be all right.”
“Please, don’t go back. I’m fine, really,” Jean begged.
She sounded fine and Kate wanted the fare, so she stayed on her heading.
“What’s your dog’s name?” Fred asked.
Kate wasn’t over being mad, so she didn’t answer.
“She’s beautiful. What kind is she?”
Rudeness didn’t come naturally to Kate. She heaved a resigned sigh and said, “Her name’s Angel, and she’s part Siberian Husky and part Malamute.”
Angel heard her name and trotted up to the seats and rested her head in the woman’s lap, or what was left of it. Jean rested a hand on her head. “She’s so sweet.”
“She’s a great dog,” Mike said.
“So, what do you do?” Fred asked Mike.
“I’m a pilot.”
“But I thought . . .” Fred stopped, then nodding said, “Oh . . . yeah. I remember you came in just before we left.”