by Bonnie Leon
“You’re not fat. You’re pregnant. And you’re beautiful.”
“Oh yeah—real beautiful,” Kate said with a smirk. Still, she loved that he had said it. She thought he actually believed it. “The lot in town is small. What would we do about outbuildings and gardening? Where would you put the dogs?” She returned to the sofa and sat beside him.
“People who live in town buy more and grow less. That’s what my family did when I was growing up.”
“But I love our garden.” Kate didn’t know why she was disputing Paul. Living in town did make more sense. And lots of people lived without gardens and smokehouses.
Paul rested his chin on her head. “Yeah, I love it too.”
“You said we were going to make a run into town soon to stock up on a few items before the snow flies. When did you want to go?”
“How about tomorrow?”
“I’d like that. I’ve been missing Muriel and Helen.” She sat up straighter. “Can we take the boat instead of the plane?”
A gust of wind rattled the windows. Paul glanced over his shoulder and out the window. “You sure you want to do that? It’s cold.”
“It’s not that bad. And if the sun is out, it will help. This time of year it’s so beautiful. I think it would be fun to take the dory. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Cook Inlet from sea level.” She smiled. “The fall colors would make for a nice change of scenery.”
“Okay. As long as the weather’s good.” Paul pressed a kiss to her cheek. “We can stay over one night, which would make for an easier day coming and going.”
Kate nestled against him. “I’d like that. And I’ll pray for good weather.”
Paul gave her a crooked smile. “I swear God listens to you, so I figure we’ll be taking the boat.”
When Kate woke, faint morning light filtered in through the window. She climbed out of bed and crossed the room to have a look outside. The forest and outbuildings were outlined against the dawn. Last night’s wind had stilled and the glow of morning showed pink in a sky smattered with clouds. “Thank you, Lord.”
Wearing a smile, Kate returned to the bed and sat beside Paul, who was still sleeping. “Hey, lazybones. It’s time to get up.”
Paul rolled onto his back and opened one eye, then the other. He stared at Kate. “What a sight to behold first thing in the morning.”
Kate laughed. “Is that a compliment or a criticism? I know how I look when I wake up.”
He rested a hand on her thigh. “You’re beautiful, always.”
“You’re a romantic in disguise, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” He grinned.
Putting on what she hoped was a smug expression, Kate said, “The wind stopped and there are only a few clouds. I guess God heard my prayer.”
“I’m not surprised.” Paul placed a hand on Kate’s rounded abdomen. “How are my two favorite people this morning?”
“Good. And this one,” Kate put her hand over Paul’s, “slept last night, which means so did I.” She stood. “Get up. If we’re taking the boat, we’ve got to get moving.” She headed into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then went to work preparing a breakfast of oatmeal with sugar and molasses.
After they’d finished eating, Kate packed extra clothing while Paul prepared the dory for their trip, made arrangements for the dogs, and carried food that Kate had prepared down to the boat. By the time he returned, she was ready to go.
Angel stood at the door, her tail waving. “Sorry, girl. Not this time. There won’t be enough room for you on the way back.” She looked at Paul. “Did you talk to Patrick?”
“No. He was still sleeping. But Lily was up. She said that she and Clint would see to Angel while we’re gone.”
“Good.” Kate gave the dog an extra pat and stepped outside, with Paul behind her. She could hear Angel whining at the door, then heard the sound of her toenails on the window glass. She’d jumped up on the sofa to watch them. “It feels strange leaving Angel behind. I’m so used to having her with me.”
Paul glanced back at the house. “I figure she feels the same way.”
The air felt brisk but not wintery. “I love this time of year.” Kate breathed in the exuberance of the forest splashed with red, yellow, and orange. “It looks like God’s taken out his paintbrush and had a party.”
“Yeah, that’s because he knows what’s coming,” Paul said dryly. “Winter.”
“Come on now, where’s that romantic spirit I saw this morning?”
“It went into hiding,” Paul said with a half grin.
Undaunted, Kate continued, “It’s the perfect time to make a slow trip to Anchorage. The world is beautiful.”
“It might look good, but a dory isn’t the most comfortable transportation. You sure you’ll be all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been feeling good all along—no aches or pains . . . hardly.”
“All right. If you’re sure.”
When they reached the boat, Paul gave Kate a hand in, then untied the rope from the mooring and settled in the back beside the motor. It took only one yank on the starter and the engine puttered to life. He pushed away from the dock and turned the rudder so they were headed toward the Susitna River.
Soon the river would freeze. This would be the last boat trip until spring. When they entered the bay, it seemed bigger than Kate had remembered. She gazed out toward the sea, then at the shoreline, which looked like a collage of color. Mountains rose up on the far side of the bay like hazy blue and white crowns.
“It’s unbelievably gorgeous,” Kate said. “I’m glad we brought the boat instead of the plane.”
The swell was calm and rocked the dory gently like a mother rocks a cradle. Kate looked back at Mount Susitna. “You know, even though I nearly died at the foot of that mountain, it still feels special to me. It’s not like most of the peaks in the territory. She’s quiet and gentle. I’d love to make a fishing trip to one of the mountain lakes before they freeze.”
“Sounds like a good idea, but I’ve got some medical runs coming up.”
Something bumped the boat. “What was that?” Kate asked, staring into the water.
“Probably a log. Better keep a look out.” Paul stood and studied the waves. “Ah, there’s our culprit.” He smiled broadly. “Whales. We’re in the middle of a pod of belugas.”
“There’s one!” Kate pointed at what looked like a white ghost drifting past the boat just beneath the surface.
A few yards ahead of them, one of the eye-catching mammals surfaced, then dove back into the sea with its white tail hesitating for a moment before disappearing beneath the swells.
“Until I came here I’d never heard of a white whale,” Kate said. “I think they’re fantastic.”
Paul and Kate watched and waited, hoping they’d see another one, but the whales were gone. “They must be on a mission,” Paul said. “No dillydallying for them.”
The rest of the trip was uneventful, except for a couple of sea lions sunning themselves on a buoy. Paul turned the boat toward them, hoping to get a closer look. Barking at the intruders, the animals looked like they would stand their ground, but when Paul got closer, they dove into the sea.
Kate felt a swell of happiness. “I love Alaska. You never know what you’re going to see. Except that it will either be unusual or delightful.”
“Or scary as all get-out.” A gentle expression rested on Paul’s face. “It gets under your skin, all right. When I first came here, I didn’t know if I’d ever feel at home. Now I don’t think I could be happy anywhere else.”
“I know this is the place for me. I don’t ever want to leave.” Kate gazed at the town of Anchorage perched on the hills above Ship Creek. “Are you still set on our moving into town a month before the baby comes?”
“Yes. It’s the safest thing to do. What if you went into labor and the weather was bad and we couldn’t get in?”
“I guess I’d have the baby at home. Sassa told me she’d help.�
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“I don’t care what she said.” Paul sounded angry. “I want our child born in a hospital.”
“Okay. But you have to admit it would be nice to bring the baby into the world out on the creek.”
“Kate, you never know what might happen during a delivery.” Paul’s tone was grim. “We’re not taking any chances.”
Kate wished he’d tell her why he felt so strongly about their baby being born in a hospital. Lots of babies were born in their own homes. Every time she’d tried to broach the subject of why he felt the way he did, he’d shut down. She was pretty certain it had something to do with what had happened to his wife and son. He was haunted by it and would never be free of it until he brought the secret into the light.
By the time they approached Anchorage, Kate’s back ached. She was glad to see the docks. Although the trip had started out wonderfully, it had been more difficult than Kate had anticipated. She decided she was too far along for adventures.
Paul gave her a hand out of the boat. “You hungry?”
“Starved. Seems I’m always hungry.” She chuckled. “Let’s go to the general store first and see if Helen and Albert are working. Maybe we can have lunch together.”
“Sounds good to me.” He took her hand. “But . . . maybe we ought to drop off our bags at the house first, then go over to the store.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Paul draped a knapsack over one shoulder and carried the travel case. He and Kate strolled up the road away from the bay. Kate was grateful to be out of the boat. Walking felt good.
“We’ll have to get a fire going in the house before we go to the store. It’s really cold.” She glanced at the bags. “Why don’t you let me carry one of those?”
“No. I’ve got them.” His tone was unyielding.
Kate still hadn’t gotten used to his protectiveness. She hated being doted on, but with Paul there was no way around it. “It’s cold. Colder than I expected,” she said, pulling up her hood.
When they approached the house, Kate was surprised to see smoke trailing out of the stovepipe in the roof. “There’s a fire going. I wonder who did that? No one knew we were coming.”
Paul shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m grateful.” He walked up the steps and opened the door for Kate. She stepped in and was greeted with shouts of “Surprise!” from Helen, Albert, Muriel and Terrence, and the fellas from the airfield, including Jack.
“What? What is this?” she asked.
Muriel hugged her. “It’s a party, for you.” She smiled broadly.
“But how did you know?” Kate turned to Paul.
“I radioed when I was at Patrick’s,” he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Muriel grinned. “I’ve been planning for weeks.”
“A party for what? It’s not my birthday.”
“No. But it’s nearly your baby’s birthday,” Helen said.
Muriel took Kate’s hands. “We thought it would be fun to celebrate and to get you some things that you’ll need once it arrives.”
Kate put her hands to her cheeks. “I had no idea. Thank you.” She turned and looked at Paul. “You knew all along?”
He laughed. “Yep.”
It was a good party. Everyone had a fine time, even Jack. Kate received all sorts of gifts for the baby—blankets, diapers, and clothing. And then Paul brought out a cradle.
“What in the world?”
“He made it himself,” Helen said.
“When? Where?”
“Out in the shop. You’re gone a lot, you know. And it’s not hard to get a package picked up and delivered when you know the right people.”
Kate knelt beside the wooden cradle and imagined her baby lying in it. “Oh Paul, it’s beautiful.” Tears moistened her eyes. “I didn’t even know you knew how to make something like this.”
“Patrick helped me.”
Kate stood and faced him. “You’re amazing. Thank you.” She kissed him.
“When Helen told me about Muriel’s idea for this party, I thought it would be a good time to give it to you.”
“I have nearly everything I’m going to need.” She looked around the room. “Thank you all so much.” When she looked at Sidney, she caught him blinking back tears. He loved children. She hoped that someday he’d decide marriage was for him.
The following day, Paul and Kate purchased the remaining items they’d need, along with some goods for the upcoming winter. Most of it Kate would return for in her plane, leaving some for their short stay when the baby was born.
They set out for home beneath sunny skies. Anchorage gradually faded into an obscure coastline. They seemed to be traveling more quickly than usual. Kate thought it must be because she was anxious to get home, but then the engine quit and they continued to travel rapidly westward.
“Oh brother,” Paul said. “Now’s not a good time for you to get temperamental.”
“Why are we moving so fast if the engine’s not running?” Kate asked.
“It’s the tide change. In this area the currents can be powerful. We need to get the engine started.”
Kate felt a pulse of fear. “Can you restart it?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem.”
He stood and grabbed hold of the starter rope and pulled. The engine sputtered but didn’t catch. He hauled on the rope again. Still nothing. Kate was beginning to think they’d have to row their way home.
Finally, he pulled and the engine caught, but Paul lost his balance. He tumbled backward, over the side and into the water. Before he could grab hold of the boat, the current caught him and swept him away from the dory.
“No! Paul!” Kate had heard of bore tides and knew she had no time to waste. She scrambled to the back of the boat and cranked the engine up as fast as it would go. It wasn’t fast enough. She kept her eyes on Paul, and although the boat was also being dragged in the current, he was moving faster and was being carried farther and farther away. The water was too cold. If she didn’t get to him soon, he’d drown.
“Paul! Hang on,” she yelled. She closed the distance—not far now. She was almost certain the current was slowing. When she got close enough, she could see that Paul was struggling to stay afloat. Lord, please don’t let him die. Please.
He slapped at the water, his arms almost useless. Kate pulled up alongside of him and let the engine idle as she reached over the side and caught his hand.
“I . . . I can barely move,” he uttered, his voice weak. He struggled to get a grip on the boat and climb over the side, but fell back into the water. With strength Kate didn’t know she possessed, she hauled him into the dory and into her arms. Clinging to him, she sobbed.
“I thought I was a goner,” Paul managed to say through chattering teeth. “The water’s so cold hypothermia set in fast. I couldn’t move.”
“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something dry.” Kate helped him strip off his wet clothing and then rummaged through his bag and pulled out a warm flannel shirt and dry pair of pants. Paul was shaking so badly he couldn’t dress himself. Kate helped him, then wrapped him in a couple of wool blankets. “It’s a good thing we bought these.”
He was still trembling so badly, Kate felt desperate to warm him up. She unbuttoned her coat and pulled Paul against her, offering her own body warmth. The cold of his body was shocking and soon Kate was shivering too.
“I was so afraid I’d lost you,” she said.
They sat on the bottom of the boat for a long while, holding each other. Paul’s shivering quieted. “Like I said earlier, Alaska can be scary.” He chuckled.
Kate smiled. “The baby’s happy. He’s kicking really hard. Here, feel.” She took Paul’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “Can you feel him?”
Paul’s eyes warmed. “So, you’ve decided we’re having a boy?”
“What?”
“You called it a him.”
“I did, didn’t I?” They both laughed.
Paul rested his
cheek against Kate’s abdomen. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. We’re in this together, the three of us—forever.”
- 15 -
Kate pulled on her boots and laced them, then grabbed her coat from its hook and put it on. The house was clean and the baking done. She needed something to do. She stepped onto the porch, and then shoved her hands into her gloves. Jasper’s perch was empty. He’d been gone for several weeks. He’d never taken to Kate, but now that he was gone, she missed him.
Pulling the door closed, she gazed at a white world, savoring the hush of the year’s first heavy snowfall. She took in a breath of contentment. She was happy. With only two months left until the baby was due, she was home most days, filling in on flights only when needed. And for reasons she didn’t completely understand, most days that was fine with her. She thought it must have something to do with her woman’s need to settle in and prepare for the birth.
Feeling like an overblown balloon, she made her way down the porch steps and headed toward the shop. Opening the door, she stepped inside. Paul was working on his traps, making sure they were ready to be set out. He looked up.
“Hi. How you doing?” he asked.
“Good. The baby’s busy this morning. Must be happy.”
Paul kissed her. “Just like its mother.”
“I am.” She turned her attention to the traps on the workbench. “Just thought I’d come and say hi. The house is clean, bread is in the oven, and the stew is on.” She laughed. “Listen to me. I sound like Helen, all domestic.”
“Don’t worry. It’s temporary.” Paul smiled. “I know you. Soon you’ll be off on all sorts of new adventures.” He pulled her into his arms.
“It’s hard to imagine right now. I’m having more trouble than ever getting in and out of the plane.” She rested a cheek against Paul’s chest. “I don’t mind being a homebody for now, though.” She gave him a squeeze and then sat on a stool beside the workbench. “But I have been thinking about after the baby is born. I’m not sure how I’m going to work and be a mother.”
“Maybe we should talk to Albert and Helen. They did it.”