The Last Homestead

by Warren Troy

  Walking all day had taken its toll. Caraway drifted in and out of a light, fitful sleep as the rain continued. He didn’t look forward to repeating the process of slogging over the tundra the next day. O’Bannion was at the top of his black list.

  The rain finally let up, though there was heavy overcast. Denny could have used a couple of hours more sleep, but instead got his stuff together and headed out. Figuring he might reach the road in another day, perhaps two, Caraway had no concerns, though in the back of his mind there still remained an edge of anger, brought on by O’Bannion’s hard, unreasonable attitude.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Denny knew he couldn’t be more than ten or twelve miles from the highway. Except for watching the two bears facing off and the fox keeping him company, it had simply been a steady slogging through typical bush country. Soon, according to his calculations and with the use of his grandfather’s compass, he’d be well out of it. He had a sudden, powerful desire for a big juicy burger from the North Star Cafe, and promised himself to get one once he got back, along with several cups of freshly brewed coffee.

  An unnatural sound entered his hearing. It took him a moment to figure out what it was. It was getting louder as he stood listening, the sound of a light aircraft in distress, the stuttering of an engine not running right. The sound of the failing engine suddenly stopped completely. Then he saw it: a small airplane coming down at a steep angle. All he could do was watch, the total lack of sound adding an eeriness to the scene. The plane disappeared before it crashed.

  Denny estimated it was about a mile away, perhaps a little farther. He set out at a steady trot in its direction, as steady a jog as the muskeg allowed. The fox was startled by his change of pace, and moved away before following again at a distance.

  It took Denny about fifteen minutes to get to the crash site, and he saw why the plane had disappeared when it had come down. It had dropped into a shallow draw with a creek running through it. It looked as if the plane had caught a wing tip and cart wheeled once or twice. Both wings were broken off and lying a short distance away, one across the other. The crumpled tail section was almost torn off the plane, hanging to one side, while the propeller was twisted and useless. One wheel was thirty yards down the creek, having bounced and rolled after impact.

  The fuselage was lying in the creek on its side, facing upstream, the pilot’s seat on the downside. Water was running into the plane through the broken windshield and door.

  Denny slid down the embankment and ran to the plane. He saw the pilot still in his seat and knew it was probably too late for him. His head and shoulder were under water. Gently lifting his head, he felt for a neck pulse. The man was gone.

  The female passenger sitting next to him was above the surface, held in place by the seat belt. Walking around to the other side, he climbed up, pried open the door and carefully cut the belt with his knife. Holding onto the unconscious woman’s arm, the severed belt allowed him to extract her from the plane. Just as he got her laid out on the bank of the stream, she regained consciousness and screamed out in pain. Denny patted her on the shoulder, and slipped his pack under her head. Denny spoke quietly to her, telling the woman she was safe now and should try to relax. The woman, in her mid-thirties, kept moaning about her leg. Denny saw it was clearly broken, though he didn’t see any protruding bones. She had some blood on her forehead, but, when Denny wiped it away, there was only a slight cut. Along with a bruise on her cheek, that was all that was visible. She had been lucky, more so than the unfortunate pilot.

  By now, the bugs had homed in on them. Denny took his head net and an aluminized emergency blanket from the pack, careful not to disturb her too much when he took it out from under her head. After putting the head net on the woman and covering her with the blanket, he put some bug dope on himself.

  Going back to the plane, Denny got the pilot out and laid him nearby, behind a patch of willows, so the woman wouldn’t see him. Then he returned once again to the plane. After switching on the radio he was relieved to find it still functioning. There was a small label with the emergency frequency printed on it. Denny switched to it and called for help. He got a quick response and told them what had happened, describing their location as best he could. Returning to the woman, still conscious and in obvious pain, Denny built a fire nearby, adding green branches once it got going, to make a visible signal. He gave the woman, whose name was Caroline Barker, some clean water from his water bottle.

  Not much for small talk, he tried to keep her mind off the pain in her leg. His efforts didn’t go unnoticed.

  She put a hand on his arm and gave him a grateful look. “It was amazing and wonderful you were nearby when we crashed. I don’t believe in coincidence. I know you probably saved my life.” Caroline smiled at him.

  Denny could see she was a strong person, dealing with the situation as well as could be expected. They talked about their lives, and she was fascinated with Caraway’s description of his way of living and how he had come to be on his homestead, though he omitted a number of things she needn’t know about.

  Caroline was a teacher being flown out to McGrath to start a job there. She had been a teacher in the villages for ten years, mostly substituting for other teachers. This job was to be fulltime and long term. Now, it appeared it was not to be.

  Denny told her it seemed as if life sometimes “had other plans for us we don’t know about until they happen.”

  A sudden increase in pain caused her to moan and grip his arm tightly until it subsided. Denny felt a pang in his gut. Except for his last visit with Gwenny some time ago, he hadn’t had any real contact with a woman, and never in a situation such as this. Caroline was attractive, with good looks Denny thought of as “natural,” no make-up or fancy hair style, with a healthy, clean, clear-eyed appearance. She also had a pair of beautiful green eyes that went well with her blonde hair. Denny had to break away from his observations to pay attention to the present situation.

  “Oh, look,” Caroline said, “there’s a fox up on the bank.” Sure enough, there was Denny’s fox staring down on them, not willing to come closer, the plane wreck and the two other figures putting him off, Denny’s presence holding him there all the same. Denny told her about the fox and how he had come to be out on the tundra, with his “furry sidekick,” as he put it.

  He was surprised to see Caroline get an angry look on her face when he told her about being left to find his way out, though he didn’t mention O’Bannion by name. Despite the present situation, what was obviously a wrong act in her mind angered her. Denny was impressed with Caroline, there was no doubt. She saw him observing her and they paused in time, looking at each other the way people sometimes do when the connection has become stronger through the circumstance they are in. Denny actually smiled a real smile, which she returned openly.

  At that moment, the sound of a helicopter coming in broke them out of their intimate moment. Denny threw some more green branches on the fire, but they had already been spotted.

  A few minutes later, they were safely stashed on the chopper, the pilot’s body covered and strapped onto a basket on one side of the fuselage. As they turned to head back to Fairbanks, Denny caught a glimpse of the fox trotting out onto the tundra, continuing the daily struggle of survival, the connection between them now in the past and of no further interest to the little predator.

  After days spent hiking, the quick flight to Fairbanks was anticlimactic, though Denny wasn’t complaining. They landed on the helipad at Fairbanks memorial, and Caroline was whisked away to be cared for. At first, the nurses thought Denny was involved in the crash, until he explained how he had come to be in the vicinity. They were a little doubtful at first, then amazed and not a little impressed, though such stories aren’t unheard of in Alaska. Unusual and potentially life-threatening situations were par for the course in the north country. Truth to tell, Denny’d had more than the usual share of adventures during his ten years in Alaska. He had come to take his wild exist
ence in stride, though this plane crash had been something unique, even for him.

  He asked one of the nurses if there was some place in the hospital he could clean up. At close quarters, his unbathed condition, after days on the tundra, had not gone unnoticed. One of the nurses took him to the doctors locker room, gave him a towel, soap, and shampoo and left him to wash away all the footsore miles. After getting dressed in the one set of clean clothes in his pack, Denny went down to the hospital cafeteria and wolfed down a tray full of food.

  Before he left the hospital to get back to his truck, Denny dropped by Caroline’s room to say good-bye. When he knocked on the closed door, a tall, rugged-looking man in his early fifties opened the door and said, “You must be Mr. Caraway, I’m Nathan Barker, Caroline’s father. Please come in.”

  Caroline was awake and seemed to be settled comfortably in the hospital bed. She had been freshened up after having her leg set and cast and, considering the situation, looked good to Denny’s eyes. She smiled when she saw him and extended her hand. He walked over and took it without hesitation. They remained like that for a moment, Caroline smiling and Denny admiring the view, until Mr. Barker cleared his throat. Denny turned to him and Barker thanked Caraway, saying how grateful he was to him for helping his daughter, probably saving her from greater harm. Denny simply nodded.

  Then Caroline said, “Daddy, remember what we discussed?”

  “Oh, yes, Caroline said you might be in need of employment. Your last job, I take it, didn’t end well?”

  “You could say so, Mr. Barker. I haven’t settled with the man I was working for yet, and I hope it won’t be any more difficult than necessary.”

  The look in Caraway’s eyes backed up his words. Instead of putting him off, it impressed Barker. He had lived in Alaska a long time, met a lot of people he could do without, and a few he was glad to know. He had a feeling, despite having just met Caraway, that he would fall into the latter category.

  “Well, may I call you Denny?”

  Caraway nodded.

  “Denny, I own a large surveying company based in Fairbanks and Anchorage. I contract work all over Alaska, quite a bit for the state. I can always use a reliable man on my crew in the remote areas where we work. With your experience living in the wilderness, I think you could do a good job as bear guard and, well, overseeing my crew in general while in the bush. You’d be well paid and your needs would be met, whatever you require for the job. Interested? I could start you in a few days.”

  Denny liked Barker’s direct way of putting things, and figured he’d treat him fairly. And besides, he was Caroline’s father. Caraway was also aware the job Barker offered might not have existed before his daughter had explained Denny’s situation.

  Caroline spoke up again, something she obviously had no problem doing. “My daddy’s a fair man, Denny. You should consider it.”

  Again, Denny gave Caroline one of his rare full smiles and told her he had already decided. He’d take the job. His homestead was all locked down anyway, and he could pick up whatever he needed in Fairbanks.

  “May I ask who you were last working for, Denny, prior to the plane crash?”

  When Denny mentioned the name Carlton O’Bannion, Barker’s face darkened immediately, a veil of definite anger covering it.

  “I know O’Bannion, personally and by reputation. If you’ll allow me, I’ll take care of any business left between you. I have the feeling if you go there yourself, I might have to wait a while to put you to work.” Barker gave a tight little smile.

  “A definite possibility, Mr. Barker. If it wouldn’t be inconvenient, I’d appreciate that. I generally like to take care of my own business, though I’d rather not see the man again. In all likelihood, it would get bad.”

  “Done then. Think no more about it. Do you have a place to stay until I can get you on the job?”

  “I’ll find something, not a problem.”

  “Nonsense,” Caroline spoke firmly. “Daddy has a huge old place. I’m sure he could put you up, right Dad?”

  “If I had been given a chance, daughter, I was going to make the offer. That way Denny, I could fill you in on what you’d have to do on the job, and I could tell you about the projects we have planned. You might find it interesting.”

  “And I’ll be coming home tomorrow,” Caroline said. “So we can visit when daddy’s not filling your head with logistics. I want to know more about your life, if you wouldn’t get annoyed with all my questions.”

  “Not at all,” Denny replied, giving her a direct look.

  At that moment, the door opened and a young man came in and went right over to Caroline, and bent down and kissed her. With his hand on her shoulder he said, “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, C, are you okay?”

  She smiled at him and nodded slightly. “Denny, this is my fiancé, Chad. Chad, this is the man who rescued me from the plane crash, Denny Caraway.”

  Chad turned and grabbed Denny by the hand, pumping it vigorously. “Thank you so much for what you’ve done, Mr. Caraway. I don’t know what would become of me if I’d lost her.”

  Looking at the man for a long moment, Denny nodded.

  Quick to size up the situation, and noticing the look on Denny’s face, Barker said, “Come on, Denny, let’s go get a drink. After the last few days, you could probably use one.”

  Denny picked up on Nathan Barker’s suggestion as a way out of an awkward situation and appreciated the gesture. “That’s one offer I won’t turn down, Mr. Barker, thanks.”

  “Call me Nathan, please.”

  After having a couple of shots of good bourbon along with a tasty steak dinner at a nearby restaurant, Barker took Denny to his truck and led the way over to the Barker residence, located on Chena Ridge. It was a huge log home, like nothing he’d ever been in before — downright majestic. The lower outside walls were natural river stones and the logs of the upper walls were large. The inside was expansive, with high beamed ceilings, natural wood stairways and railings, and large windows, giving a terrific view of the surrounding country. Clearly, a lot of thought had gone into the place. Though it had been built on a grand scale, it had a warm rustic quality. Denny wasn’t surprised to learn Barker had designed and built it himself. It turned out the man was also an architect.

  Nathan gave Denny the tour, which included a large game room literally filled with mounts of animals from many different countries. Nathan was obviously a world class hunter. Caraway was curious, because there was no grizzly or brown bear in the collection. When he asked Barker why, Barker gave a funny little smile. “I’ve had several opportunities to take a trophy class brownie, but when I got the animals in my scope, for some reason, I couldn’t shoot them. I can’t really explain it, I just can’t take a big bear. Can you understand?”

  “Well, I have no problems with trophy hunting, Nathan, even though all the animals I’ve taken have been for food or to defend myself. I don’t think I could shoot a big bear either. To me, they symbolize everything wild and larger than life about Alaska. Shooting one for sport wouldn’t set right with me.”

  “I see your point, and I’ll think on it,” Barker said. “I noticed your old model 70 Winchester. What caliber is it?”

  When Caraway told him it was a 30-06, Barker suggested Denny get himself a heavier caliber for work. “I’m sure you can shoot your rifle well. Still, I would feel better if you had a gun in a heavier caliber, as a more reliable stopper on big bears. I’ll be happy to foot the bill for it.” Denny thought for a moment and agreed there was wisdom in the idea.

  “Come on then, I’ll show you to your room. Big day tomorrow, Caroline coming home and all. Have you noticed she’s a high energy person? Give her a chance and she’ll wear you out.” Nathan Barker gave Denny a searching look.

  The question in Nathan’s eyes was obvious. Denny thought for a moment and replied, “I’ve only known your daughter a short time and in an unusual situation. I will tell you I think she has a great personality. Chad’s a
lucky guy. A man would be a fool not to appreciate her qualities.”

  Barker smiled and said, “Can’t fault a man for having good judgment. She and Chad have been friends since childhood. They’ve decided to tie the knot next April. He’s a good man, an accountant here in Fairbanks. It’s late, let’s get some rest.”

  Caroline came home the next day and Nathan was right. Whenever he and Denny weren’t discussing Denny’s upcoming job or business in general, Caroline was pumping him for information about his homesteading life and all his experiences. Denny hadn’t talked so much in years. At one point he laughed and told her she ought to write a book. She smiled and told him if he’d let her, she would — about him. Denny smiled and shook his head, saying, “No, thanks, I’d rather keep things private, though I appreciate your suggestion.” She was visibly disappointed, but let it drop.

  Three days later, Nathan told Denny he was going to Anchorage on business, and asked him to come along. Grateful for a change and a little breathing room, he agreed.

  In the morning, they drove out to Fairbanks International Airport and parked in a light aircraft area. Barker was an experienced pilot and owned a pristine 1956 de Havilland Beaver, a Canadian-made bush plane with a great reputation for reliability. Though Caraway had seen them, he’d never flown in one.

  “She’s a fine aircraft,” Nathan said, “extremely reliable, with a large cargo capacity. I’ve had her in and out of some tight spots, and this plane has never let me down. Let’s get buckled in.”

  In minutes, they were flying smoothly along, the Beaver reminding Denny of a giant mechanical bumblebee. The big radial engine was putting out plenty of noise, making it necessary to wear headsets to be able to talk. The two men discussed the airplane’s character, the country they were flying over, and many things Alaskan.