From Out of the Blue

by Nadia Nichols

  “What if he’d kept running with the wolves? What would you have done?”

  He thought for a moment, fork in midair. “I guess I’d have kept chasing after him. Maybe he’d have been all right, maybe what he wants is to be something wild, but I didn’t know that. I still don’t. He’s pretty used to being fed regularly and he’s gotten kind of attached to Hayden. Anyhow, he’s family, and you can’t give up on family.”

  Kate lifted her wineglass for another tiny sip. There was no arguing with that logic because, when it came down to it, she wouldn’t give up on family, either.

  AFTER HE WASHED the supper dishes and put them away, Mitch found Kate out on the porch, leaning against the railing, wrapped in her parka and watching the low clouds scud before the ebbing wind, shredding themselves against the peaks of the Alaska Range. They were lit up with all the colors of the rainbow in the last real light of day. Salmon-pinks and violets and buttercup-yellows and reds. There were pale green and blue and tangerine streaks in the western sky. Mitch came up behind her, put his arms around her, dropped his chin onto her shoulder and pulled her close.

  “Pretty impressive,” he said.

  “Pretty impressive,” she agreed.

  “I’m sorry I made you so mad.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Hayden’s asleep. He wanted to stay up to hear the wolves howl, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open.”

  “It’s way past his bedtime.”

  “This time of year, Alaskans don’t recognize a bedtime. Bedtime comes in winter and it’s called hibernation, but during the summer solstice the energy levels are so high most everything stays awake 24/7, making up for lost time.”

  “So I guess this means you aren’t tired?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. When I thought there was a bear up ahead of us on the trail, I died a thousand deaths worrying about Hayden. Between Hayden’s bear and Thor’s wolves, I’m played out.” Mitch felt the anger flow from her and the tension dissipate as she softened in his arms.

  “Welcome to the world of parenting.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  Wrong thing for him to say. He felt her tense up again in self-defense, and damned himself for his stupidity. “Let’s sit out here a while,” he suggested, hoping for a chance to redeem himself. “If we’re lucky, we might hear the wolves howl. You warm enough?”

  She nodded.

  He pulled her into one of the deck chairs and she sat in his lap just as stiff and cold and unyielding as a rock, the disciplined, unemotional, independent, type A fighter pilot to the end.

  The colors in the western sky started to fade as he held her, and he let the fingers of one hand massage the tight muscles in her shoulders and neck and took it as a good sign when she didn’t pull away and an even better one when she began to relax.

  And then, just before that thick, dusky hour, which was as dark as it ever got in an arctic summer, they heard a wolf howl from across the canyon, close enough to be clearly heard over the sound of the creek. This wasn’t just any wolf, and it wasn’t just any howl. This howl defined the origins and the destiny of the entire universe and lasted a full ten seconds. It encompassed the deepest of pains and the fiercest of joys and everything in between, and when the last notes had faded into silence, Mitch felt a shiver run through Kate. She turned into him, melted against him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and he held her in the same fierce way, because he was just beginning to understand how tragic and how beautiful life could be.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THEIR LAST DAY at the park supervisor’s cabin passed in a blur. Kate, Hayden and Mitch took a short walk down the Canyon Creek trail to where the caribou had been killed, and together they examined the tracks around the scattered remains of bones and hide. Most of the meat had been eaten. Ravens flew away from the kill site at their approach and kept a jealous eye on their meal while Mitch measured the wolf tracks using a dollar bill. “This must be the alpha track. Look at the size of it. Five inches by seven. Wish we could make a plaster cast. That’d make some kind of souvenir. Bet your Montana wolves aren’t that big.”

  “They eat buffalo for breakfast,” Kate said. “They’re twice as big.”

  “Hear that, Thor? Maybe you should head for Montana with Hayden and Kate and try running with the big wolves.”

  Kate felt a pang and turned away, searching the tundra for the delicate anemones, picking a tiny bouquet of alpine rhododendron and trying not to think about leaving Mitch for the second time. If she hadn’t been able to say goodbye after one night, how was she going to say goodbye now? And how would she explain to Hayden that his father, who had just been miraculously raised from the dead to become a part of his life, was going to be living so far away?

  They ate lunch sitting on the porch, then tidied up the cabin, filled the wood box and left a thank-you note on the counter next to the small bouquet before loading all their gear back into the truck for the journey back to Pike’s Creek. Kate gazed out the truck’s window as they started down the park road, recalling that Norman Rockwell illustration of the family going on vacation and then returning home. Their great adventure was over and they were subdued and deflated. Tomorrow they’d be in Anchorage, meeting with the governor and Admiral Gates and other leukemia patients and after that…

  She didn’t want to think about it. She wanted to remember how special these past few days had been. She wanted to remember hearing that wolf howl, and how Mitch had carried her back into the lodge afterward and the way he leaned in her bedroom door after she’d climbed under the covers and said, “Feel like another bedtime story about the Sky Dragons?” And how, for the third morning in a row, she’d woken from a sleep unplagued by nightmares, with Mitch by her side. She knew he’d only spent the night with her because he knew she didn’t want to be alone. She told herself over and over not to read anything into it, to take his generous kindness in the spirit it was offered and expect nothing more, but there was no denying that she wanted something more.

  There was also no denying that she had little to offer in return. No man would choose to be saddled with a woman battling leukemia. Mitch was tied to her through Hayden, but that was all. He owed her no allegiance, not after the way she’d shut him out for almost five years. He owed her no friendship, and he certainly didn’t owe her his undying love. His push for the drives to help find her a bone marrow donor, while touching, was no doubt spurred by his fear of becoming a single parent and of his whole lifestyle changing to care for a three-year-old boy. She couldn’t blame him for that. The responsibilities of raising a child were life-altering. If she died, there would be no more late nights at the pool halls for Mitchell McCray.

  Kate gazed out at the magnificent landscape, so vast and humbling that from time to time, while walking with Mitch and Hayden that very morning, she’d had to focus on the delicate alpine wildflowers at her feet to bring the world back into perspective. She felt like that now, about her life. The future ahead of her loomed so frightening that she had to concentrate on the here and now to keep from being overwhelmed.

  Suddenly, the truck slowed and Mitch pointed to a green patch of willows alongside a glacial stream a hundred yards to the right of the gravel road.

  “Bear!” he said.

  Sure enough, a silvery-blond grizzly was pawing the grass and roots along the water’s edge, digging up great dark clods of dirt searching for grubs and greens while her two cubs wrestled together at the edge of the willows. Kate caught her breath, awed by the sight, committing the moment to yet another special memory she could draw on to get her through the days and months and, hopefully, the years ahead.

  “Little bears, too, Mumma!” Hayden said. “Oh, I hope she doesn’t eat them!”

  BY THE TIME Mitch dropped Hayden and Kate at the Moosewood and returned to his place on Pike’s Creek, it was well after midnight. He wandered through the cabin with a restlessness that was completely incongruous with how he should be feeling after such
a long day, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and walked out onto the porch, where he leaned over the railing, took a long, cold draft and pondered the state of things. He’d been a bachelor since his divorce, and a happy one, too. He’d enjoyed living alone, keeping his own hours and answering to no one. He and Thor had shared this place and called it home for two good years.

  This strange loneliness that he was feeling tonight, in a place that had never felt lonely to him before, would pass. As soon as Kate and Hayden left he’d get back to normal, but first they had to resolve the issue about the plane. If she left it behind, he’d never get back to normal because he’d have to see it every day, and everyone would know Kate had bought the plane for him, and everyone would know why.

  Mitchell McCray couldn’t make it on his own.

  That’s what people would say.

  They’d be right, too. Up until now, making the big bucks hadn’t mattered to him. He’d been perfectly content working for Wally and earning just enough to keep him in canned beans and toilet paper, but things were different now. He had a son. Living from hand to mouth was no longer an option. He had big responsibilities to shoulder, but he could do it. He didn’t need Kate to prop him up financially. Somehow she had to accept that, the same way he had to accept the fact that she’d turned his world upside down.

  And that was the hell of it. Even if the plane issue was resolved, he’d never get back to normal. When he’d left her at the Moosewood last night after unloading her bag and Hayden’s, she’d walked back out to the truck with him in the dusky light, head down and arms crossed. He paused by the door of his truck, struggling with the undeniable knowledge that he no longer wanted to keep two feet of space between them. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning bright and early,” he told her. “We have to be at the hospital by eleven, and the governor invited all of us to lunch after the meeting. I told him we’d be honored. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Hayden, too?”

  “He told me the restaurant has a children’s menu.”

  “That sounds fine.” She paused, then gave him a small smile. “I had a nice time, Mitch. So did Hayden. Thank you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him very gently on the mouth, then turned and walked away. No goodbye, which was fine with him. He hadn’t wanted one, which was exactly why he was pacing his porch at 1:00 a.m., brooding over what he really did want and wondering if he could ever have it.

  MONDAY, THE DAY so dreaded by Kate, passed more quickly than Sunday had. The press conference was held at 11:00 a.m. in the oncology wing of the Alaska Medical Center. Attending, in addition to the governor, were the chief of Umiak; three leukemia patients, including a twelve-year-old girl; and two cancer specialists. It was Kate’s first public appearance without wearing a wig or a hat, and she joked, “Easiest hairdo I ever had, but I keep forgetting the sunscreen.” Her comment broke the ice, got a laugh and jump-started the press conference. Hayden stood by Kate’s side and made shy, monosyllabic responses to the reporters’ questions. The Blood Bank of Alaska and the Red Cross both had representatives to talk about the process of becoming a bone marrow donor. There were four very professional and polite members of the press, including John and Mike, who had flown down from Fairbanks.

  The discussion lasted a little over an hour and wasn’t nearly as bad as Kate had feared, mostly because Mitch was there for her to lean on. Lunch afterward lasted over two hours. The restaurant was near the waterfront, very chic and upscale, but the children’s menu, so-called, had nothing whatsoever that Hayden would eat. It was merely scaled-down portions of the regular menu, which included portabello pate, artichoke bisque and duck confit. Kate read the selections aloud to Hayden, who was understandably disgruntled, then glanced at Mitch with a barely suppressed smile. This was going to be an interesting experience.

  When the food arrived, Hayden stared sullenly at his plate while Kate tried to carry on a conversation with the governor and the chief of Umiak. Several times she urged him to eat, promising dessert if he ate at least one piece of duck, which she assured him tasted just like chicken. At the end of the meal she was surprised to see that all the duck on his plate had disappeared.

  “Good for you, Hayden,” she praised him. “I’ll ask the waiter for a dessert menu.”

  Fortunately, the restaurant offered something as mundane as ice cream. Hayden ate a big bowl of French vanilla drizzled with chocolate sauce.

  On the way back to Mitch’s truck, after all the thank-yous, goodbyes and good lucks had been said, they followed a scenic walking path along Cook Inlet, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Kate had been vaguely aware that Hayden and Mitch were plotting something, but was taken by surprise when Mitch pulled a fine linen restaurant napkin, bundled into a ball, out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Hayden, who carried it to the edge of the walking path, opened it up and pitched two pieces of duck, one after the other, into the inlet. He turned to look at Kate.

  “I feed the fish, Mumma, so they don’t eat their babies,” he announced.

  “I couldn’t eat it all,” Mitch admitted in response to Kate’s questioning glance. “I’m no fan of duck myself, or much of anything else on that restaurant’s menu, but I figured Hayden might at least get dessert if I helped him out.” He reached out his arm and hooked her around the waist, pulling her up against him while Hayden stared down at Cook Inlet, anxiously waiting for the fish to eat his offering. “You did great today, K. C. Jones, and so did Hayden. I’m proud of you both. Whatdya say we hit a burger joint on our way out of town. We got us a hungry kid to feed.”

  THEY STOPPED at a fast-food place to satisfy Hayden’s appetite, and then Yudy’s General Store on the way back to the Moosewood. Kate needed to pick up more yogurt and water; Mitch needed dog food. When they were paying up, Yudy plunked a big poster on the counter, advertising the upcoming donor drive.

  “Hot off the press,” he announced. “Campy’s in charge of distributing them all around town. She started today. The donor drive’s been scheduled for next Monday.” He nodded at Kate. “I sure hope we find one for you, Captain Jones.”

  “Thank you,” Kate said, a little overwhelmed.

  Back in Mitch’s truck, she handed Hayden the juice he’d asked for, sat back in her seat and sighed. “Everyone’s been so nice.”

  “Alaska’s a great place to live,” Mitch said, starting the truck. “People have their differences and sometimes they’re extreme, but they look out for each other just the same. Let’s swing by Brock’s Bar and Grill and have a beer. You deserve one after surviving that press conference.”

  “What about Hayden?”

  “He can have a root beer. You like root beer, Hayden?”

  Predictably, Hayden nodded. He’d like anything Mitch suggested. Kate smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

  At 4:00 p.m. on a Monday, Brock’s was quiet. The parking lot was nearly empty and the bar was smoke free. Campy was there filling in for someone who’d called in sick, and she served them at a table near the jukebox. “Hey, hon,” she said as she set the beer in front of Kate. “How’d it go today?”

  “Pretty good, I think,” Kate said. “We may have sold the governor on a few proactive programs for helping the native Alaskans get better medical treatment.”

  “We’re having a donor drive right here in Pike’s Creek,” Campy announced with pride.

  “Yudy told us you were in charge of the posters. We saw one outside the bar. Thanks.” Kate wanted to say more but suddenly her throat tightened up and she couldn’t speak. Campy reached out and gave her arm a gentle squeeze, then she set a foamy, frosted mug of root beer in front of Hayden with a wide smile.

  “You see any wolves up in Denali, Hayden?”

  “Almost,” he said, eyeing the mug with interest before glancing up at Campy. “I saw a moose and a caribou and a sheep. And a bear with babies!”

  “Wow. I hope you saw
that bear from a distance. I have a healthy respect for Alaskan bears. You hungry? We serve up a mean burger and fries here.”

  Hayden’s eyes widened. “Yes, please.”

  “You just ate a hamburger not two hours ago,” Kate reminded him.

  “That was two hours ago,” Mitch said. “He’s a growing boy. Make that three burgers and fries, Campy. We ate lunch with the governor in Anchorage, and those fancy restaurants serve up mighty stingy portions for the big bucks they charge. Nothing like Brock’s.”

  Hayden took a sip of root beer. The foam left a moustache on his mouth. He liked the taste enough to immediately try another swallow. Meanwhile, Mitch pushed out of his chair, fed some coins into the jukebox and punched some selections. Kate took a sip of her own beer as a country-and-western foot-stomper filled the empty room with sound. Mitch returned, braced his palms on the table in front of Hayden and said, “Mind if I dance with your mother?”

  Hayden shook his head, completely involved with the mug of root beer.

  Mitch switched focus. “What do you say, Captain? Think you can manage the Texas two-step?”

  “If there are only two steps, I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

  He extended his hand, she took it and rose from her chair. In three minutes she was up to speed on the two-step, and with Mitch’s arm around her and his warm, strong hand holding hers, she was feeling a little tipsy even though she’d had only one sip of beer. It felt so good for him to be holding her, for her to be dancing and for them to be together this way. It had been a long day and she was tired, but somehow the dance rejuvenated her and when the song ended she felt young and happy and sorry it was over.

  Her regret lasted only until the next song kicked in. This one was slow and didn’t require much effort other than leaning into Mitch and swaying with the music. Kate closed her eyes, rested her head against his chest and pretended for a moment that the way she was feeling was a forever thing, that life would be golden and glorious and she would always be safe and protected in Mitch’s arms.