and to Victoria Merritt at the Craig, Alaska,
Parks and Recreation Department,
for answering all my questions.
Chapter One
Samantha Danbury breathed in the smells of pine and wet earth that hung in the cool Alaskan night air. She’d spent the last three hours walking around Ketchikan to find a hotel that had a vacancy for the first week of July. When she entered the well-kept motel room with its bearskin rug and rustic wood furniture, she let out a sigh of relief.
After placing her camera case on the table, she plopped her enormous backpack full of clothes and toiletries on the chair beside her. She arched her back, working out the kinks that had formed after a long day of travel.
The room had an immense canopy bed made of pine that looked incredibly inviting. Except for the hotel in Male, the capital of the Maldives, she’d spent most of the last two months in Southeast Asia, living out of grungy hotels or a tent.
Sammi couldn’t resist jumping onto the puffy bedding. The down comforter swallowed her up, making her want to fall asleep. Unfortunately, there were two things she had to do before that could happen. E-mail her mom and eat.
Slowly, Sammi sat up, running her fingers through her straight blond hair. She fumbled for her purse and grabbed an elastic to put it in a braid. She also took out a protein bar to stop her stomach from grumbling.
Her feet became painfully alive with pins and needles as soon as they were elevated. To get the blood flowing, she kicked off her all-terrain boots, got off the bed and walked around the room until the pain subsided.
She stopped, turning her gaze to her backpack, which contained the journal. To her sorrow, its existence had caused a rift between her and her mother she feared might be too big to overcome. Even though it had been only a few months since they’d fought, it felt like a year. Now Aunty Ed had passed away, too.
Waves of loneliness threatened to consume Samantha. She knew it was for the best that her aunt was out of her misery. But to never see her again…
Sammi closed her eyes, trying to shut out the horror of the last few weeks. How could she complain about an aunt who’d died peacefully when thousands of people had lost loved ones? Her latest assignment had her photographing faces against a landscape left desolate by a tsunami—an experience she hoped never to repeat. In fact, she never wanted to cover a disaster again.
Realizing she was hovering over her luggage, she reached for the key in her jean pocket to open the special latch on her backpack. Once she’d retrieved the journal, she sat down and opened it.
Her fingers shook. The doctor had warned her about the aftermath of living through a disaster. She’d been so busy with the crew at the time, capturing every shot she could. Now all she could think of was how many of those survivors hadn’t been able to salvage a memento of their father or mother like this.
How could you have kept this from me for all these years, Mom?
The brown diary was large enough to hold pictures, but not too bulky. All her life she’d longed to know her father. Had he loved her? What kind of man had he been? Where was he from? Did he have a family? Had he loved her mother?
In the worn pages she’d found the answers. She would never have known any of this if she hadn’t discovered his backpack in one of the closets at home on the vineyard in St. Helena, California.
Her father, Chris Engstrom, had been born and raised in the tiny town of Craig, Alaska. From the pictures, it looked like he came from a loving family, with two older brothers and parents. Sammi was convinced that pictures didn’t lie. As a professional photographer, she could read body language and gestures. The way people held themselves in candid poses showed a lot about them.
What had happened to make her father run away from home?
He’d been a prop airplane pilot, with blue eyes, blond hair and an adventurous soul, and he’d wanted to see the world. “Just like me,” Sammi whispered.
At thirty-two years of age he was passing through the Napa Valley of California when he’d met her mom, Andrea Danbury, a seventeen-year-old, ash-blond beauty working at a restaurant in Rutherford. It was a whirlwind romance that ended up with a pregnant Andrea and Chris living together with Aunty Ed. Just a couple of months after they’d found out about the baby, his plane went down and his body was never recovered.
Sammi had known her father was a wanderer and a pilot, but she’d been told nothing else. She’d learned he sent money home to his family in Alaska with every paycheck he earned, but she didn’t know why.
Her mother claimed that she’d been so hurt Chris hadn’t loved her enough to tell his family about them, she’d never said a word to Sammi about his parents. They’d been kept a secret from her for twenty-three years.
But was her mom to blame for all this?
Sammi had come to Alaska to find out if her grandparents were alive or not. Either way, she would be able to put this chapter of her life to rest. There was a part of her that needed to see where her dad was from, where he’d grown up. She wanted to talk to some people who’d known him and could tell her how he’d lived. If by any chance her grandparents were alive, then she would do all she could to get to know them.
She picked up her birth certificate, which had slipped out of the journal, then set her laptop on the bed. Once she’d put in her wireless Internet card, she grabbed her snack and began eating again.
While waiting for the computer to boot up, Sammi stepped over to the window and peered out at the magical green world of Alaska, where the land, ocean, clouds and sky seemed to go on forever.
Eventually she looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 10:00 p.m. and the sun was just setting. She finally closed the curtains, then headed back to the bed to send her mother an e-mail before going to sleep.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON Sammi watched the colorful town of Ketchikan shrink into the distance from the small ferry boat. The place bustled with tourists and traffic. She couldn’t believe her luck in finding a local ferry with a captain willing to take her over to Prince of Wales Island for twenty extra dollars.
She’d decided to come up to Ketchikan on a whim, not realizing it was the height of the tourist season and most lodgings were booked, unless you had lots of money. The one thing she didn’t have.
No matter. Focusing on the negative would do her little good now. She was here and the views were awe inspiring. For the next hour Sammi was caught up in shooting pictures of humpback whales, bald eagles and picturesque green islands with seals sunning themselves on the shore.
She turned her face to the wind. The taste of salt was delicious, but the weather was chilly, since the sun had decided to hide behind the clouds. The once-blue water had turned a grayish hue. It made Sammi feel oddly peaceful as the boat continued its three-hour journey to the port town of Hollis.
Since the rest of the ferry was used for local and government vehicles commuting to the island, the only place to warm up was in the captain’s quarters. She ventured inside.
JAKE POWELL ENJOYED the peace of the three-hour ferry ride home to Prince of Wales Island. He fiddled with his iPod and its converter in the music deck of his truck, searching for a song, and looked up at the vistas of never ending sky and water. The beauty of Alaska always amazed him. This was God’s country, a place he’d taken an oath to protect as chief ranger of the Tongass National Park.
He took his hat off and ran a hand through his dark curls, noting that dust and dirt fell out as he massaged his scalp. Time for a shower!
It had been a long couple of days trying to stop some poachers down in the Misty Fjords National Monument. A smile crossed his face when he thought of them spending the Fourth of July weekend in jail.
The Fourth of July.
That meant his brother, C.J., would be at their parents’ home for his annual visit. His appearance usually sent Jake out of the room. He turned up the volume on the song playing.
Jake did his best to be gone when C.J. came to Craig, but he’d promised his mom he’
d come to the family’s Fourth of July barbecue this year, and he was a man of his word.
He and his brother had been the best of friends growing up. Now he wondered how on earth twins could look so much alike, yet be such polar opposites.
It had been thirteen years since Jake had asked Lisa Meyers to marry him, on the night of their high school graduation. He’d thought she’d loved him. He would never forget the shock when she’d said she loved C.J., that he was exciting and fun. In a scornful voice, she’d told Jake he was boring, serious and already old.
Lisa’s family had moved to Craig when she was seven. Ever since then Jake had been in love with her. They’d dated from their junior year on. His brother’s betrayal had been so great, he’d put up a wall between them Jake had never cared to breach.
To C.J., life was all fun and games. Women came and went out of his life. Not able to get out of Alaska fast enough, he’d moved to San Francisco at age eighteen, and in time became a fireman, loving the big-city life.
Jake hadn’t needed to go away to find himself. He had everything a man could want right here—a house, family and a great job….
The sound of his cell phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. Who was calling?
He picked up the phone, looked at the caller ID and grimaced. Emily. He chucked the phone back on the seat and grabbed some jerky instead.
It’s over. Told her that two weeks ago. The only lady in my heart is a hundred-pound furry rottweiler named Beastly. C.J. better be ready. I’m in no mood to deal with poachers intruding on my territory.
“HI, CAPTAIN LOVELL.”
The short, ruddy-faced captain gave Sammi a wink. “How are you enjoying your ride?”
She grinned. “It’s beautiful, but I’m a little cold. You said I could come in here, right?”
He nodded. “You’ve got a fancy camera there, missy. With the way you was snappin’ pictures out there, I’d take you for a professional. But ya’ look mighty young to be one if you don’t mind me saying so.” The captain’s face seemed to get redder the more he spoke.
Sammi tried not to laugh. “I am a professional photographer.”
His small blue eyes searched hers, waiting for more information. Sammi bit her lip. She could see this was something he wasn’t about to let go. “What is it about me that everyone has to know how I could possibly be a professional photographer?”
“Ya don’t look old enough.”
At that comment Sammi took a seat next to the captain, who was standing at the helm. “I got a scholarship to the Brooks Institute in California, where I majored in photography. Have you heard of it?”
“Nope.”
“It’s a school for the arts. During my senior year of college, Global Explorer magazine offered me one of their coveted internships. They liked my work so much, they offered me a job when I graduated.”
“Sounds like you’re a lucky lady.”
“Sometimes,” she mused.
For the next half hour they sat in silence. There was nothing in the world Sammi hated more than silence. She needed to be doing something—anything—but this just had to end!
“I was wondering. How many types of bears and birds are on the island? Oh, and what species of flowers and trees are indigenous? And then—”
“Hold on now, little missy. That’s a lot of questions for a sea captain.” He pointed to the U.S. Forest Service truck. She got up from her seat to get a good look at the beaten-up vehicle loaded on the ferry.
“That’s Chief Powell inside, the head ranger up here in the Tongass National Forest. He can answer all your questions. He’s a good man. You can trust him. Just warn him first that you’re there to interview him, not for small talk.”
A smile spread across Sammi’s face. “Thank you.” She reached over and kissed the captain’s cheek. After looking at her watch, she saw she had exactly an hour and a half to pick the chief’s brain.
Sammi reached for her camera case, purse and backpack before heading out the door into the strong wind. She threw her backpack in the truck bed and knocked on the driver’s window.
As it rolled down, a vicious wind whipped up Sammi’s hair from all directions, causing her to lose every bit of professionalism.
“Young lady?” a strong male voice called out. “You’ll need to remove your bag from the truck.”
“What? I can’t hear you! The wind!”
Embarrassed, considering this was their initial meeting, Sammi reached in her pocket and found an elastic. She used it to tie her hair back in a ponytail, letting her wispy bangs flow where they might.
“Hi,” she said. Her eyes finally met his. As she looked at the dark, attractive ranger, she felt her usually fearless attitude slip away.
When the captain had said “Chief Powell,” she’d thought of Yogi Bear, Grizzly Adams—not some green-eyed hottie with rugged features and dark curly hair. Wow! She hoped he hadn’t seen her blush.
“Have we met before?”
“No.” Why would he say that?
“Hmm…You need to remove your bag from my truck immediately. This is a government vehicle, not tourist transportation.”
When she gave him no response, his mood changed from anger to annoyance. “Are you okay? Do you need some seasickness pills?”
Pull yourself together, Sammi.
Everyone who knew her would be laughing at her. She was checking out a guy in a park ranger uniform. Ohh, she was losing her mind.
The ranger moved fast, lowering himself from the truck in mere seconds. He was taller than she’d anticipated. It forced her to tilt her head back to look at him.
“Let’s check your vitals,” he muttered, grasping her wrist. Here was the first guy who’d knocked her socks off and he thought she was an irritating, seasick tourist!
He was looking at her again. “Your pulse is a little high, but nothing to worry about.”
My heart is racing!
He bent down to examine Sammi a little closer. “You don’t look green. Your pupils aren’t dilated. Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
Sammi knew she needed to act fast to diffuse this situation. “I’m sorry for this horrible introduction. I’m Samantha Danbury.” She put on her most charming smile and held out her hand.
Chief Powell leaned back against his truck and slipped on his sunglasses before shaking it. “Listen, Samantha. You seem like a nice girl, but I’m just not interested in dating anyone right now. Go tell Captain Lovell to stop trying to set me up.” He started to open the door to his cab.
Now she knew why Captain Lovell had told her to ask quickly for the interview. The man’s an egomaniac.
Samantha’s blood began to boil. “Listen here, Chief Powell,” she said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Like I said before, I’m Samantha Danbury with Global Explorer magazine.”
She fumbled in her purse and pulled out her journalist ID. “I’m a freelance photographer for the magazine and I’m here to do a piece on the fisherman of Craig, Alaska. A man by the name of Nels Engstrom is going to be helping me with it.”
Good lie, Sammi. Hope it’s true.
“Nels? Nels Engstrom? The crusty old salt?” The chief stood up, looking shocked. “The man barely talks,” he muttered.
Sammi mustered every bit of control to hide her joy. Her grandpa was alive! “Just the same,” she interjected, “I was asking Captain Lovell about some of the flora and fauna on the island, and he said you’d be a good person to talk to. But I can see you’re definitely not the guy.”
She began to walk to the rear of the truck, reaching in for her backpack. Suddenly she felt the chief’s warm body in back of her. The fact that she was affected by such close proximity let her know that she needed to get a life. It had been a long time since she’d been on a date. Hanging out with reporters and cameramen didn’t count.
“Um, I’m not the best at apologies,” he said. “We’re a close-knit community up here. It seems I’m always getting set up. It was rude of
me to assume that’s what was going on, but when you didn’t say anything and you weren’t sick, I didn’t know what else to think.”
She felt him clasp her hand and lead her to the other side of the cab. He opened the door to help her get in. The truck was cool, but got instantly warmer when the chief climbed in the driver’s side again.
He’s obviously a jerk. Ask your questions, be professional and try not to think that he’s the first man you’ve been attracted to in months.
With her little pep talk done, Sammi felt ready to take on Chief Powell. He started the engine to heat the cab. As soon as that was done, he focused his full attention on her.
“You can call me Jake. Everyone else does.” His smile put her at ease. “So what do you want to know, Samantha?”
For once her name sounded so young. “Just call me Sam.”
“All right, Sam, ask away. Just no pictures of me, all right?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
The next hour or so flew by. Though she gathered a lot of information in that amount of time, Sammi felt she’d barely skimmed the surface of this paradise. Too soon the ferry reached shore and the cars drove onto an island covered with a beautiful, lush, green rain forest.
As the truck made its way onto the gangplank, Sammi turned around in her seat to look at the ferry. “Oh—I need to go back and thank Captain Lovell.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell him for you,” Jake offered.
“Promise?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks. He was so nice to help me get a trip over here. I had no idea how crowded this place would be this time of year.”
“So is that what you do? Just fly around the world to wherever your next idea takes you?” Jake eyed her curiously as if searching her soul.
“No,” she answered after a thoughtful pause. “Mostly I go where the magazine tells me. This is the first time I’ve been able to pick a location.”
“Why Alaska?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. You don’t look like a woman who would come to Alaska.”
A Mother's Wedding Day Page 9