Glacier Blooming

by Edie Claire

  Elsie’s house was located exactly three minutes from the GusMart, and Mei Lin passed only one other vehicle on the way. She recognized the beat-up little Ford immediately as one of the fleet of second-handers belonging to Ron’s Rentals, the only car-rental business in town. The Ford broke down less than most of Ron’s other offerings, but even tourists who got stuck with the Spider (a particularly dilapidated conversion van with so many cracks in its windows it looked like it was wrapped in a giant web) were never stranded long. Every citizen of Gustavus, including Mei Lin herself, had picked up some tourist from the roadside at one point or other and given them a lift back to Ron’s, where customers were assured of another set of wheels, an apologetic smile, and quite likely some fresh-caught fish as consolation.

  Mei Lin passed the other driver with the mandatory local wave, which consisted of a brief lift of the fingers off the wheel along with a nod of acknowledgment. The fact that the tourist made no response indicated he hadn’t been in town long. Gustavus was a friendly place.

  The parking lot at the GusMart was packed, meaning that all three spots directly in front of the building were taken. Mei Lin pulled the Subaru off to the side of the lot and rushed in. She didn’t want to make Ed Hanover stay late.

  “Hey there, Mei,” the storeowner called out as she blew by the checkout stand. He chuckled at her obvious haste. “Don’t bust an artery now! You’re fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You deserve a weekend as much as anyone else,” she called back. “I’m sorry. Twenty-Two held me up a bit, but I’ll be quick, I promise.”

  Ed laughed again. “Ah, good old Twenty-Two. No hurrying that one along, for sure. Is this all for you, Stanley?” Not recognizing the name, Mei Lin looked up at the elderly customer who was checking out. She assumed he was a local, but she didn’t know him. The area had a fair number of residents who kept to themselves, some of whom lived in remote cabins under primitive conditions. Stanley appeared to be one of them. The fabric of his shirt, shorts, and socks seemed indelibly entwined with dirt, his scruffy gray hair and beard hung to his shoulders, and his presence suffused the entire front section of the store with the pungent aroma of man-sweat and wood smoke.

  “That’ll be all, today. Thanks, Ed,” the customer replied. Mei Lin perked an eyebrow. She’d expected to hear the succinct, rough dialect one usually associated with an antisocial backwoodsman, but this individual sounded more like a college professor. She was studying his mud-crusted hiking boots, which looked to have been expensive originally, when she noticed the wound. A nasty laceration curved along the man’s calf just above the sock line. The cut had been stitched closed, and capably so, but Mei Lin didn’t like the look of it. The gash appeared to be a few days old, and its edges had begun to redden and puff. She thought she saw a disturbing yellowish tinge to the swelling as well, but from where she stood, it was difficult to tell.

  She took a step closer. As a nurse who specialized in caring for the elderly, she could no more ignore such a sight than a veterinarian could ignore a starving kitten. But before she could reach the man to introduce herself, she was interrupted.

  “Mei Lin!” a female voice cried out behind her.

  She turned to see Carol McRoberts, who managed many of the vacation rentals in town. Carol was a strong, big-boned woman in her early fifties with carrot red hair and very pale, freckled skin — all of which seemed to perfectly suit her environment. She had been Elsie’s closest neighbor and friend for decades, and she had welcomed Mei Lin into the community with open arms, treating her more like a daughter than a friend’s employee.

  “I’m so glad you’re still here,” Carol exclaimed, folding her into a hug. “Every time I see you it makes me smile.”

  Mei Lin hugged her back, even though the women had just seen each other yesterday. A wave of melancholy surged up out of nowhere, and Mei Lin’s eyes watered. “I can’t stay much longer. But Elsie made me promise I wouldn’t leave until I’d picked all her nagoonberries.”

  Carol chuckled, her light hazel eyes brimming with emotion. “She was a wily old coot, wasn’t she? It did bother her that you might leave before seeing Alaska at its best. She told me once that keeping you around through the summer was as good an incentive as any for her to keep breathing.”

  Mei Lin swiped at her tears. She knew the truth of that statement. Elsie had chattered all winter about how her New England nurse — who had arrived in the dark of January — simply must stay on long enough to see the wildflowers bloom. But as soon as the blue lupine and pinkish-purple fireweed had begun to unfurl, Elsie had mysteriously switched to talking about her nagoonberries. And even in her last days, just as the rare wild berries were beginning to ripen in her meadow, she’d started bragging on the huckleberries, which wouldn’t hit their prime till August. “I’ll be staying through the middle of the week, at least,” Mei Lin answered. “Her lawyer wants to talk to me before I go, and he can’t get here till Tuesday.”

  “Please don’t rush off. You know you’re not imposing on anybody,” Carol insisted. “Elsie wanted you to enjoy the house, and surely it’ll take a little time to find another job? Oh, and by the way, you’ll have the place to yourself this weekend. The guest house isn’t rented out till Monday.”

  “That’s fine,” Mei Lin said without concern. Elsie’s guesthouse was a small, separate structure nestled in a grove of trees off the main drive. Since it was Carol who checked people in and out and took care of any problems they might have, the renters never bothered Mei Lin one way or the other.

  She looked back toward the checkout and was discouraged to see that while she had been distracted, the man with the wound had left. She finished her conversation with Carol and opened the door of the store to look for him, but he was nowhere in sight, and one of the parked cars was gone. Feeling guilty, Mei Lin collected her groceries and brought them up to the register. “Who was that man who just left, Ed?” she asked as she placed her items on the counter. “I hoped to talk to him.” She explained why.

  “His name’s Stanley. Stanley Smith,” Ed answered as he manually punched the price of her items into the register. “He lives in a cabin up past the Torpins’ place, off a dirt track. Been around a year or so, but he only comes into town every few weeks. Keeps to himself, you know.”

  Mei Lin digested the information. Her concern was not assuaged. “I hope he’s getting that leg tended to. Did he mention if he’d been to the clinic lately?”

  Ed shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. I don’t know him past a little chitchat, but he seems a decent enough sort. Smart, always real polite to everybody. That’ll be twenty-two dollars and twenty-eight cents, please.”

  Mei Lin paid the grocer and thanked him. She started to step out, then turned around. “What does his truck look like?”

  Ed shook his head. “Doesn’t have one. He walks. Jesse Torpin says you couldn’t get anything with four wheels up the track to his place anyway, not anymore. Hasn’t been kept up in years, and now there’s trees down and all. When Stanley needs to haul things, he pushes a wheelbarrow out to the road.”

  “You mean he walked all the way here on that leg?” Mei Lin asked, alarmed. “And he’s walking back home with his groceries?”

  Ed gave his head another shake. “Nah, Jim gave him a ride as far as Jesse’s place. Sometimes I run him up there myself when he’s got a lot to carry. There’s always somebody around.”

  “I see,” Mei Lin said, still troubled. She thanked the grocer again, apologized for keeping him late, and carried her bags to the car. The town had only one resident medical professional, a nurse practitioner named Sandra Gruber. Sandra handled everything from chronic illness in the locals to the cuts and scrapes of the many tourists who descended on the National Park every summer, and her outpatient clinic was invaluable to the community. Cut off from inland roads by ice-covered mountains, the town of Gustavus was accessible only by boat or plane. Residents who could afford it bought specialized insurance that would pay to evacuat
e them to Juneau in an emergency; but if the weather was bad, it wasn’t unusual for someone with severe abdominal pain or even a broken bone to wait hours for transport.

  Mei Lin continued to fret as she drove back to Elsie’s house and put her groceries in the fridge. She knew, rationally, that being an RN didn’t make her responsible for the health of every person she ran into. Then again, it wasn’t as if she had anything else to do right now, was it? She headed toward the phone. If Stanley Smith had been to see Sandra recently, Mei Lin could stop worrying. But she had only taken a step when she realized that by now the clinic would be closed for the weekend, and nobody bothered the overworked nurse practitioner after hours unless they had a true emergency. Mei Lin’s question would have to wait.

  She made herself a cup of Elsie’s favorite wild blueberry tea and took it out onto the house’s rear deck. The open-air balcony, like the master bedroom and its prized picture window, looked out over the meadows that flanked the broad, shallow Salmon River. Mei Lin sat down on the loveseat rocker and made note of the patch of dark brown that was moving through a thicket of trees a hundred yards downriver. Number Twenty-Two hadn’t strayed far.

  She had come to appreciate this view every bit as much as Elsie had, but since the older woman’s passing, the house had felt painfully empty. Swallows chirped in the meadow and the caws of seagulls drifted up from the harbor, but as soothing as those sounds were, Mei Lin missed hearing the creak of Elsie’s bedsprings, the tinkling of her little call bell, the warm cackle of her laugh. Elsie’s near-constant need for care had kept Mei Lin too busy to think about her own problems, and in this oasis of tranquility she had almost managed to forget them. But since Elsie’s death, every moment of idleness invited bitter memories of Texas.

  Mei Lin let out a sigh. She had never been one to bask in negativity, but happy thoughts seemed harder to come by lately. Very soon she would have to leave this place. Leave it… and start all over. She should be excited about that, and optimistic about her future. She used to be excited and optimistic about everything. But that was before—

  The letter!

  Nausea swelled within her as she remembered the correspondence that had arrived the morning of Elsie’s funeral. Mei Lin had shoved it in a drawer unopened, then forgotten it. She set down her tea and hastened toward the desk in the kitchen. The letter was still in the drawer, exactly where she had left it.

  Huffington Fuller, LLC: the law firm representing the skilled care facility in Dallas where she had last been employed. A nursing home that had made the local news after two women on its staff were arrested. A nursing home that faced multiple lawsuits.

  She tore through the envelope and unfolded the letter. As a material witness to the pending case of Gonzalez vs. Silverson Elder Care Center, we are writing to inform you that…

  Mei Lin dropped into the chair. She read on. It was all happening pretty much as the lawyers had predicted. Most of the families affected couldn’t prove anything, and their cases had been dropped by their law firms. But the Gonzalez family was following through. Their attorney had filed a claim against the nursing home for wrongful death in civil court. There was still a good chance that the facility’s parent corporation would choose to settle. But if not, Mei Lin would almost certainly be subpoenaed as a witness.

  She refolded the letter and dropped it on the desktop. “A witness for the plaintiff,” she muttered. The law firm defending her previous employer had asked her a minimal number of questions and seemed to take her cooperation as a given. They would be surprised to discover that her sympathies lay entirely with the Gonzalez family.

  The familiar tension returned to her shoulders, and her head began to ache. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She never wished to set foot in the state of Texas again, for any reason. But going there for the purpose of reliving one of the worst experiences of her life in front of a judge and jury was too horrifying to contemplate. She had dodged one bullet already when the accused staff members had copped plea deals to avoid a criminal trial. But it seemed as if the civil suit would hang over her head indefinitely.

  You’ll be fine, she assured herself, using the simple words that had always been her mantra. The platitude brought her little comfort now; that it ever had was a testament to her naiveté. She used to be a cheerful, unflappable idealist, the sort of person who soothed other peoples’ worries with a hug and a smile, and perhaps a dish of ice cream. But that was before Texas, before the idealist in her had gotten both smacked down and whopped upside the head. Before she’d slunk away from her troubles, battered and ashamed.

  These last months in Alaska had been happy ones. But she was painfully aware that all along, she had been hiding. Hiding not from her ex-fiancé, or from the law, or from any other outside party. Mei Lin Sullivan, coward extraordinaire, had been hiding from herself. She didn’t need anyone else to judge her, to tell her what an incredible idiot she’d been, or to question her fitness for her chosen profession. She could do that all by herself.

  She just wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Chapter 2

  Thane Buchanan watched out the airplane window as the jet curved to the east in its approach to the Juneau airport. He could see the ice fields shining white as they splayed over the mountaintops ahead, and as the plane continued to curve around and descend he was treated to an exceptional view of the Mendenhall Glacier dipping into the clear waters of its lake below. Only rarely had he landed in the capital city when visibility was this good. It was cloudy or foggy most days in Juneau, but being a Vancouverite, the change to him was marginal. He had always loved southeast Alaska. He didn’t get up here nearly often enough since his grandfather had died; airfare was too blasted expensive. But he had no regrets over his sudden impulse to jump on a standby this morning. Never in his life had he felt such a strong urge to run away screaming, including that time at Glendale Cove when he’d been charged by a mother grizzly. In that case, running would have been a bad idea. In this case, it was his best option for sanity.

  Even as he reveled in the raw beauty of the vista below him, he could not erase last night’s debacle from his memory. The scene had been replaying itself in his mind all the sleepless night before. He still had trouble believing it had happened.

  He and Vanessa had gone out to eat together at one of his favorite restaurants near the University of British Columbia, as they had done several times before. The only difference was that they usually split the bill, whereas this time she had insisted on treating him. But before they even had a chance to order, unfathomable words had started tumbling from her mouth. He’d been so dumbfounded he was pretty sure his mouth had hung open. Multiple restaurant patrons had turned to stare in their direction…

  Vanessa was giggling at him. Her cheeks flamed with red and her dark eyes twinkled. Her normally pale skin glowed, and her entire face was luminous with pleasure. “Don’t say anything!” she warned through her smile, punctuating the point by touching a perfectly manicured fingernail to his lips. She squiggled in her seat with excitement. “Not a word! Not yet. I’ve thought all this through very carefully, and I absolutely forbid you to answer me now. In fact, I’m declaring a 48-hour waiting period.” She glanced around at the people watching, then giggled and squiggled again. “Oh, isn’t this fun!”

  Thane didn’t say anything. He couldn’t think of a single phrase in the English language that addressed such a situation.

  “Well?” she twittered expectantly. Aren’t you going to put it on?”

  He looked down at the thing that was clutched between his thumb and forefinger. He couldn’t remember taking it from her. The second she’d explained what it was, his brain had gone numb.

  An engagement ring.

  He stared at the odd little device. It was metal. Part of it was black and part of it was shiny gold, the two colors alternating in a wavy geometric pattern. The design reminded him vaguely of the portable toilet in the construction zone by his apartment building.

&nbs
p; “I know this isn’t exactly conventional,” Vanessa chirped. “But I saw it and I just thought, ‘it’s so you,’ you know?”

  Thane did not know. He had never worn a ring in his life. He had the same relationship with jewelry that he did with Vanessa. Both were beyond his scope of comprehension.

  She laughed with delight, then grasped the ring herself and pushed it over the third finger of his left hand. “It fits perfectly!” she exclaimed, clapping her own hands under her chin. “I knew it would! I said ‘give me the biggest size you have,’ and they did!’”

  Thane stared down at his hand. He was a big guy, so of course he’d have big paws. They were also weathered and callused, which made the thing on his finger look completely ridiculous. Not that he gave a rat’s ass how he looked, but the bauble in question somehow made him feel like he had a loop of rope around his neck.

  He started to pull the ring off.

  “No, no, no!” she interrupted in a high-pitched squeal, clutching his hands with her own small, pale ones. Her ruby-painted nails dug into his skin as her eyes darted around the room self-consciously. Then her attention returned to his face, and she lowered her voice to a purr. “Please, Thane. You need to understand that I’ve thought this through very thoroughly already. I’ve examined all the angles and I’ve made my decision. I realize you haven’t had as long to think it through as I have, which is why I totally don’t want to pressure you. What I want is for you to wear this ring, and look at it, and think about it, for at least forty-eight hours. Before you say anything. Anything at all. Okay?”

  She was still clutching his hands like a vise. If his skin was any less rough, her claws would have him bleeding now. He recovered the use of his jaw, then attempted to respond. “Vanessa, I—”