Wild Fire

by Linda I. Shands

  He was right, but why did she always have to be the one responsible for Ryan? Because there is no one else, that’s why.

  She packed the last of her things and set her clothes out for morning. It was close to midnight, but she had a hard time falling asleep.

  Last year, preparing for the trip to Eagle Lodge had been exciting. Mom had fixed their dinner, helped Ryan pack his clothes, and then read him a story. After he had settled down for the night, she had spent time in Kara’s room talking about their plans.

  Ten months ago all Kara had to worry about were her grades and which outfit she was going to wear. Now she had to take care of Ryan, do all Mom’s chores, and do her schoolwork besides. It just wasn’t fair.

  Quit whining, Wako. No one ever promised you that life would be fair. She used the nickname Greg had pinned on her when Dad was out of hearing range. She hated it, but lately it seemed to fit her state of mind.

  She had a lot of work to do, but at least she could scratch the schoolwork for now. Yeah, three months in some of the most beautiful wilderness in the world, and all she had to look forward to was cleaning toilets and scrubbing floors.

  RYAN CHATTERED ALL THE WAY to the small airport on the outskirts of Lariat. Kara tried to concentrate on the scenery. To their left, the rugged Wallowa Mountains shot straight up into the silver morning mist. She knew their jagged peaks were still spiked with snow.

  Behind that range of mountains was another, just as rugged. The Minam Valley was sandwiched in between.

  The small, four-seater Cessna was already waiting on the tarmac. A brown-and-green logo of crossed antlers against a background of trees had been freshly painted on the front passenger door.

  “Pretty neat, huh?”

  Kara understood the pride in her father’s voice. He had worked hard to buy that plane and fix up Eagle Lodge.

  She walked over and gave him a hug. “It looks great, Dad.”

  She glanced back up at the mountains. “But are we going to get out of here?”

  Her dad followed her gaze and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “It is pretty thick up there. We’ll give it an hour, then decide.”

  She felt a surge of disappointment. If the cloud cover stayed, they might not get over the mountains today at all. It wasn’t the clouds at the top that would cause a problem. Dad could navigate the peaks by radar. But if the mist continued on down the other side, they wouldn’t be able to follow the narrow flight path, or see well enough to land the plane.

  “Let’s go get coffee in the pilots’ lounge.”

  Dad said it with a straight face, but Kara laughed. The pilots’ lounge was a tiny, one-room office with a scarred desk, a sofa, and a coffeemaker. She poured two mugs of coffee and handed Ryan change for the Coke machine.

  An hour later the mountain peaks were still obscured by clouds. “What do you say we pop on up and have a look? If it’s too dense on the other side, we can turn around.”

  “All right!” Ryan raced toward the car and started to drag his duffle bag to the plane.

  She grinned and followed. By the time they loaded their gear in the tail and climbed into the “sardine can,” as Tia called the tiny plane, it was almost eleven o’clock.

  The engine turned over. Kara’s stomach fluttered as the airplane coasted toward the runway. Ryan was up front with Dad. She leaned forward and tugged on his seat belt.

  “Hey!”

  “Just checking, Ry.”

  She clutched the armrest as the plane picked up speed. A few seconds later they were in the air.

  When the plane leveled off, she lifted her head from the seat back and watched the scenery below. Grassy fields and ploughed farmland. Small stands of fir trees. Houses and barns lay scattered below the foothills like playing pieces on a brown-and-green checkerboard.

  She held her breath as Dad guided the plane into the clouds above the mountains. This part was always a little spooky, like flying through spun cotton. You couldn’t see the mountains or the sky.

  The plane bumped, then dropped. Kara’s breath came out in a whoosh as they broke through into the sun.

  “We’re in!” Dad’s shout was jubilant. “Hang on, we’re going to make the turn.”

  One minute Kara was admiring the treetops, the next all she saw was the rugged canyon wall.

  Ryan squealed and twisted in his seat. “Oh, Daddy, make it stop. I want to get out.”

  “Hang on, Tiger, we’re almost there.”

  Kara shouted over the noise of the engine. “Look, Ry, there’s the runway. Remember?”

  Dad chuckled. “Forget it, Sugar Bear, his eyes are closed. It’s okay, Ryan, we’re about to land.”

  They bumped along the strip of hard-packed dirt that ran alongside the Minam River and coasted to a stop just a few feet from the hand-carved wooden sign announcing Eagle Lodge.

  Dad unlatched Kara’s door, then went to lift Ryan out of the plane.

  Kara jumped to the ground and stood staring at the ruined corral. “Whoa! If the rest of the place looks like this, we’ll be lucky to open by August.”

  She tossed her braid over her shoulder, stepped across the flattened wire that was once a fence, and stopped short at the water trough. It was clogged with mud and pine boughs. Next to it lay a large, gray block of what looked like fur-covered cement.

  “This saltlick looks like the deer have used it for an antler rub.”

  “They probably did.”

  Kara turned at her father’s chuckle. Instead of the despair she expected to see, his eyes sparkled with quiet laughter. He patted the back of her Levi jacket. “Don’t worry, Sugar Bear, we’ll have it back in shape in no time.”

  In spite of the winter damage, Kara loved this wilderness paradise. Her parents had bought Eagle Lodge a year ago last spring. Besides the main lodge, there were four log cabins, a spider-infested outhouse, an ancient barn, and what used to be a small corral.

  “Didn’t you say the guys are bringing in the stock tomorrow? What are we going to do with a dozen horses and no corral?”

  Greg and Colin were to lead the horses, including Lily and Ryan’s pony, Star, into the valley by way of a narrow switchback trail down from Pine Creek. It was a slow trip and could be dangerous, especially this time of year when parts of the trail would still be blocked by snow and fallen logs.

  Kara smiled. She wondered what Colin would think of that trail. Greg had been up and down it several times, but she would bet Colin hadn’t seen anything like it. It would have been fun to ride in with them.

  Colin. He was seventeen, a year younger than Greg, and, she had to admit, much better looking than any of the boys at home. He did talk too much, but that was better than her brother’s sullen silence.

  She pushed aside her thoughts and followed her father’s gaze. He motioned to the runway where the Cessna still waited to be taxied into the hangar. “We’ll turn the horses out there. The pasture fences by the river look like they held up all right.”

  Kara studied her father’s face. How could he be so calm?

  They had been standing in almost this very spot the last time they saw Mom. It hadn’t even been a year. Her eyes stung. She started to ask him if he remembered too, but his attention was fixed on a blur of activity down by the river.

  “Ryan!” he shouted. “Get away from that water, now, and make yourself useful.”

  Her father headed back toward the runway. “You and Ryan drag those sacks of grain into the barn, while I tie down the plane. We’re supposed to have high winds tonight.”

  Kara groaned but did as she was told. Grabbing the end of one fifty-pound sack, she muscled it around until she had enough of a grip to half drag, half carry it into the barn.

  Telling Ryan to make himself useful was a joke! He was small for his age. All arms and legs, skin and fragile bones. And always getting into trouble. “An accident waiting to happen,” their mother had said.

  The best way he can help is to stay out of the way. But she didn’t want to hurt his feel
ings, so she dragged six sacks into the barn and waited, tapping the toe of her boot on the muddy ground, while he pushed and pulled a bag of oats through the narrow door.

  He came out sweating, eyes gleaming with pride. “We did it.” The satisfaction in his voice made Kara smile. “We helped Dad a lot, didn’t we, Kara?”

  She brushed a hunk of shaggy blond hair off his forehead. “Yeah, Pest, we helped him a lot. Now, let’s go see what the rest of the place looks like. I have a feeling we’re going to be helping from now ’til September.”

  Ryan bolted away, giving Kara time to inhale a breath of mountain air. She remembered the first time they had put Eagle Lodge in order. Talk about work! She felt tired just thinking about it.

  She and Greg and Mom had put in twelve-hour days, scrubbing walls, sanding furniture. Dad flew in on weekends to help with the heavier chores. By the end of August, they’d had the place almost habitable.

  They’d be going home soon, and Mark, the charter pilot Dad had hired, took Mom back to Lariat to get the ranch house ready. Dad and Greg had stayed at the lodge with Kara and Ryan to finish sealing the inside cabin walls.

  Thunderstorms had rocked the whole northeastern corner of the state that day. Mom must have been headed into town for supplies, on the curvy road from the ranch to Lariat, when lightning struck a tree. It had fallen in front of her car. The car had gone off the road, over a cliff, then exploded, setting the woods on fire.

  Kara shuddered. Six months later she had started having nightmares, like the one she’d had the other night about being trapped in a raging fire.

  She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. Crying just caused more grief for Dad. And Ryan. Ryan had it in his head that God would bring his mother back someday. “God just borrowed her for a while,” he kept insisting. “He knows we need her here. He’ll let her come home again soon.”

  He hadn’t said that in a while, but it still made her angry. He was old enough to know better. He just didn’t want to admit that Mom wasn’t coming back. God hadn’t bothered to save their mother when the accident happened. He certainly wasn’t going to resurrect her now.

  THE SKY HAD CLEARED to a deep, cobalt blue, and the air was getting warmer. Kara peeled off her jacket. Dad had already hauled the luggage up the hill in the small trailer attached to the tractor.

  She tied the jacket around her waist and followed.

  The main lodge was actually smaller than their ranch house in Lariat. She climbed the five steps to the wooden deck and ran her hand across the smoothly varnished log railing. They had restored the wood last summer, sealing it against the rain and snow. From what she could see, their hard work had paid off.

  The screen door squeaked as she pushed it open and stepped into the entryway. Dad had told Greg not to oil it. “It doesn’t hurt to know when someone’s coming or going.”

  A musty smell of stale air and wood smoke made her sneeze. She stood still, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The first thing they needed to do was open all the windows. She could hear Dad around back, already taking down the heavy shutters.

  On her right was the recreation room. At the far end, a brown Naugahyde sofa and two padded wooden chairs clustered around a huge, rock fireplace. Books, puzzles, and games were stacked on the built-in shelves along one wall, and a pool table, covered with a plastic tarp, stood in the middle of the room.

  Straight in front of her the stairway climbed to what had once been a bunkhouse. They had cleaned it up and turned it into a kind of master suite. Mom and Dad were supposed to live up there. Now Dad said the large bedroom and sitting room would be fine for the new cook, a woman named Anne.

  “Why should she get the biggest room?” Kara had asked. Dad had mumbled something about not needing it now, and the look on his face made her want to cry. She decided not to push it.

  Off the rec room, down a short hallway, were three small bedrooms and Dad’s tiny office. He called it his hole in the wall. After moving in a desk and chair, there was hardly room to turn around, but he’d managed to squeeze in a small cot. The bedroom he was supposed to share with Ryan was right next door, but Kara doubted if he’d use it much.

  When Greg stayed over, he’d share Colin’s space across from Dad. Kara had chosen the small room at the end of the hall.

  Instead of going to inspect her bedroom, Kara turned left into the dining area and wound her way around the oilcloth-covered tables to the kitchen.

  She stopped in the doorway and almost doubled over with the pain of memory. The floor was littered with newspaper, and half-empty packing cartons cluttered the counters. Open cupboard doors, scattered dishes, pots and pans—it all remained exactly as they’d left it when Sheriff Lassen brought the news. “I’m sorry, but she’s gone. There was nothing we could do.”

  Don’t think about it! Kara spun around and headed back to the deck. Their lunch was in one of the backpacks. “I’ll deal with the kitchen later,” she promised herself. Right now Dad and Ryan were probably starved.

  She set out the lunch things at the picnic table. Bologna sandwiches, apples, carrot sticks, and individual cartons of juice. Cooking wouldn’t take much imagination for the next couple of days. They still had to bring in supplies.

  “Look, Dad. Awesome!” Ryan pointed to a herd of at least fifty elk grazing in a meadow across the river.

  “Awesome is right. Let’s hope they hang around ’til fall.”

  Kara winced. Dad and Greg had talked about guiding hunting trips from Eagle Lodge this fall instead of out of Lariat like they usually did. That meant Dad would be away for weeks at a time.

  She knew the trips added to the family income. But she hated running the ranch house alone. Especially on top of school. And taking care of Ryan.

  She decided to change the subject. Maybe Dad would forget about the whole thing.

  “Come on, Ry. Help me clean up this mess, and we’ll go inspect the cabins and the rest of the lodge.”

  He was as excited as she knew he’d be. “All right! My room first.”

  Dad retrieved his battered, brown fishing hat from the bench beside him and swung away from the table. “Ryan’s right. Why don’t you check out the lodge first? See what needs doing before tomorrow. Our bedrooms need to be cleaned and aired out. And don’t forget Anne’s.”

  Kara groaned. Her back hurt already. “What about the cabins? How soon do we need to have them done?”

  “Not for a while. Give me a chance to check them out before you go in, okay?”

  He glanced toward the gun rack and Kara understood. There’d been bear tracks down around the corral and barn. No telling what else the animals had gotten into.

  Ryan hustled off to the room he was sharing with his father. Kara whispered, “Be careful, Dad.”

  Her father’s eyes softened, and he pulled her over for a hug. “Don’t worry, Sugar Bear. I’ll be fine.”

  They cleaned the downstairs bedrooms first, then the one set aside for the cook Dad had hired. By dinnertime, Kara was so tired she was glad they had to settle for canned soup.

  Ryan fell asleep right after dinner, and Kara turned her attention to her own room. She pushed the bed against one wall, made it up with her own bedspread and the pillow she’d brought from home, then stacked her books, T-shirts, jeans, and shorts on the shelves.

  A wooden table under the window already held a flashlight, a lantern, and the room’s single lamp. She added her mother’s picture and stepped back to admire the results.

  “Not bad,” she sighed. “Not good either, but it’ll have to do.”

  There was one more thing in the suitcase. Kara lifted it out and hung it carefully on a nail just inside the bedroom door. Besides the picture of her mother, it was her most cherished possession: a charcoal sketch her great-grandfather, Irish Sheridan, had made of his Nez Perce wife.

  Wakara’s resemblance to her namesake was uncanny, and for the hundredth time she studied the young bride’s face: The broad forehead, high cheekbones,
and small, straight nose were a reflection of her own.

  She was proud of her heritage and she liked her given name, but when she was younger, her friends had started calling her Kara, and the nickname stuck.

  From the drawing, you couldn’t tell about the first Wakara’s skin. Kara’s was just a little darker than Greg’s and Ryan’s, like she always had a summer tan.

  “You are so lucky,” Tia had told her a million times. “You’ll never have to worry about makeup.”

  Kara was glad. She would rather be out at the barn or riding Lily than fooling with makeup. Tia was always looking for the right foundation to cover up her zits.

  The mirror Dad had given her for her birthday stood propped against the wall next to the window. Tomorrow she would hang it on the back of her bedroom door.

  She bent and peered into the glass. It was her eyes that really set her apart. They were a brilliant green-blue. “The color of a stormy sea,” her mother had said.

  Still, they were different, too different to suit Kara. To make matters worse, they would often darken to a muddy gray when she was upset or angry.

  “Ah, the curse o’ the Irish,” Dad often teased. “You have your great-grandfather’s blood too, you know.”

  Kara stuck out her tongue at the mirror. Enough. Mom would say she was being vain. She grabbed a pair of cotton pajamas from the small wardrobe next to her bed, slid her feet into thick-soled thongs, and pulled on her jacket. June nights were still cold here in the mountains, and the shower shed was out behind the kitchen.

  As she passed the room her father shared with Ryan, she knocked softly on the door. When there was no response, she peeked in. Ryan lay curled up on his cot, covered to the chin with a heavy wool blanket. His tangled hair, still damp from the shower, clung to the pillowcase. His face looked pale but peaceful, and she was careful not to shine the light in his eyes.

  “Needs a haircut, doesn’t he?”

  Dad’s hand on her shoulder was gentle, and she answered with a nod. “I’ll try and talk him into it tomorrow,” she whispered, “if I can get him to sit still for two minutes.”