Alaska Heart

by Christine DePetrillo

  Releasing me, he called to the boys and ushered them into the house. They would continue out the front door and be gone. It’d be the last I’d see of them.

  Now only the two of us stood in the yard. Dale and me. The dogs had run off to a corner of the enclosure. Gypsy and Zynk had followed Ram inside.

  “Funny how none of them actually said the word good-bye,” I said.

  “There’s nothing good about bye.”

  Dale held the gate open for me, and I wobbled past him. We went back into the house, quiet now with everyone gone. We cleaned up the breakfast mess, and Dale offered to take me back to Moose Point to pack my stuff before my flight.

  He wanted to carry me to my room, but I insisted on getting there on my own. Something about keeping my distance from him. The less he touched me, the less I’d crumble.

  It was a theory anyway. I didn’t say it was working.

  “What time is your flight?” Dale asked as he fingered my black camisole—the one he had so enjoyed our first time together.

  “Four o’clock.” I jammed things into my bags, keeping my hands and mind busy. Gypsy curled up in the corner of my room, watching with sad puppy eyes. Even she knew what was going on. What was tearing my heart out, however, was the sad puppy eyes on Dale. The green of them was washed out, as if the flame behind them had been snuffed.

  He grabbed the black lace panties that went with the camisole. “Maybe I could keep these?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Sure. I won’t need them in New York.”

  “You’ll find someone else, Alanna.”

  “Will you?”

  “No.”

  “Then what makes you think I will?” I sat on the end of the bed next to him. Much too close, but what the hell. “How could I love anyone else the way I love you right now? How could I?”

  I brushed my lips against his. He teased with slow pecks at first, then brought his hand up, burying it in my hair, while his lips devoured mine. The familiar heat that blazed deep inside me whenever we touched exploded. Our hands searched for something to possess, something to hold on to, something to make sure we never forgot. I was half in ecstasy and half in agony, but I pushed agony away to enjoy Dale’s kiss, the tenderness and heat of his lips, the soft, yet strong, feel of his hands.

  He was the first to break away, and, when my gaze met his, I was flooded with love. A shapeless word. Not easy to define. But there it burned in his eyes. I’d never forget that look or how it turned my insides into an oozing river of hot fudge.

  Dale rested his forehead against mine and traced a heart on my cheek with his fingertip.

  “Drive you to the airport?”

  I nodded, and he rose to collect my bags. Gypsy got to her feet when Dale did and trotted on ahead of us. I stopped at the front desk where Bear stood guard as usual.

  “You’re actually leaving?” he said as he accepted my room key and the keys to my rented Explorer.

  “Got to.”

  He furrowed his thick black brows as if I had said something to him in another language.

  “Hmph. I would have lost that bet.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Fairbanks International Airport sprawled out before us.

  “That ride was too short,” I said.

  “I even drove well below the speed limit.” Dale’s fingers drummed the steering wheel as we sat in the Tribute. “Maybe I should have broken the rules a little. Then a cop would have pulled us over. I could have taken a swing at him while you pretended to be high. He would have hauled us to the station. It would have taken all day to process us. You would have missed your flight. You’d be mine.”

  “A good plan.” I chuckled because his thinking was not far from my own. “But there would have been another flight to New York.”

  “Yeah. Annoying, isn’t it?”

  “We can still email each other, can’t we?” I held my breath while I waited for his reply. “I don’t think I can go without any contact with you.”

  The dimple in Dale’s cheek appeared as he looked at me. “Gaia-girl, your inbox is going to be flooded with Sled-dog messages. You’re going to want to shut down your laptop for good.” He twirled a length of my hair around in his fingers.

  “I doubt that.”

  He moved his hand so it grazed my chin, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his skin against mine. I intertwined my fingers with his and brought his hand to my lips. I pressed a kiss on the back of his palm, opened my eyes, and then groaned as the clock on the dashboard changed from 2:59 to 3:00. Dale looked at the clock and let out a long, shaky breath.

  “Let’s go.” He reached for the door handle.

  I rested my hand on his shoulder. “No. I think…I think we should say good bye here.”

  He nodded, the corners of his lips drooping. My eyes filled. A tear escaped down my cheek.

  “Don’t cry, Alanna. Please.”

  I managed a nod and a loud swallow to choke back the sobs ready to launch.

  Dale brushed at the tear with his thumb and then leaned in close. “I hope you get everything you want, Alanna.”

  Maybe I just want you. “Thanks. I’ll be looking for your name at the top of the next Iditarod Winner list.”

  I looked back at Gypsy, who pushed her nose at me to lick my cheeks.

  “Okay, okay.” I wiped at her slobbering. “I’ll look for your name too. And Zynk’s.”

  I gave Gypsy a good rubbing. She and Zynk were like people to me. They saved lives. How many dogs could claim that feat besides maybe Lassie and Scooby Doo?

  “Love you, Dale.”

  “I love you.”

  Our final kiss was like a movie kiss that goes on forever. I’d always wondered how the characters managed it without coming up for air. I got it now.

  If you have a love like that, you don’t need air.

  Dale finally got out of the car and flagged a porter to take my stuff. After insisting I did not need a wheelchair, we embraced once more, and I turned to enter the airport. Telling myself not to do it, I glanced over my shoulder. Dale, arms folded, leaned against the car. Gypsy hung her head out the back passenger window, her keen eyes trained on me. She let out a woof as Dale raised his hand to wave. I waved back and let the automated doors to the airport swallow what was left of me.

  ****

  My plane to New York was delayed three times. A sign? Probably, but pig-headed as I am, I ignored it and got on when they announced, “Flight 508 Fairbanks to New York now boarding at Gate 3.”

  I tried to sleep, because having someone knock me unconscious was an unlikely option. Unfortunately, I got stuck sitting with two newlyweds on their way home from their honeymoon. The way they clung to each other and giggled made my chest ache. I kept picturing Dale leaning against his car, looking so deliciously handsome. My whole body ached. Ached for him.

  Giving up on the sleep that wouldn’t come, I fished around in my bag for my laptop. Popping it open, I drummed my fingers on the keyboard, waiting for it to boot. I opened my article document and gave it a read through. I had to admit it was my best work. Evelynne would be pleased.

  But then what? Would I get the promotion? Did I really want it anymore?

  Shaking my head, I made a few revisions, added a couple personal anecdotes about my time in Alaska. My fairytale time in Alaska with a prince like none other. Knowing it was foolish to do so, I opened my pictures folder and tortured myself with a slideshow of Denali, Dale, and the dogs. The last picture had my mouth turning up in a dopey grin.

  A heart had been carved into a patch of snow. Inside the heart were the words Sled-dog loves Gaia-girl forever. How he managed to take that shot without me knowing was a mystery, but then again, so was my relationship with him. I mean, who falls in love over the course of a couple of days anyway? It was craziness.

  But damn, it felt so right.

  Sighing, I made the best picture of Dale and the dogs my laptop wallpaper. Dropping a kiss on my index finger, I pressed the tip to
Dale’s face and shut down the computer.

  My body wanted to shut down as well. The not-so-fun trip to Denali with Brian combined with the misery of saying good-bye to Dale and his family took its toll on me. I leaned my head back, caught a glimpse of the newlyweds next to me sucking face, and closed my eyes.

  Sleep came, but nightmares tormented me. Brian tattooing my thigh. Dale and Gypsy falling through the ice on his dogsled. Jake getting stabbed. Mick, Noah, and Riley crying. Meg getting into trouble at a bar. My father dying alone in Florida. Every real and imagined horror possible crept into my subconscious at once.

  And I couldn’t wake up.

  I tried. In the dream. I shook myself and slapped at my own face, screaming, “Wake up, Cormac! Wake up!” I couldn’t, though.

  A sharp jolt of pain in my ankle did the trick.

  “Oh, sorry,” the girl next to me said as I groaned.

  “No problem.” I massaged my ankle she had hit with her pink carry-on.

  “We’ve landed. Do you need a hand?” the guy asked. His new wifey shot him a dagger of a look. If he’d had a tail, it would have sagged between his legs like his balls were.

  “I’m all set. Thanks.” No sense in causing friction between the newlyweds. Life would no doubt take care of that eventually.

  Thirty minutes later, I hobbled through the rain to Meg’s car, and she jumped out as soon as she saw me. Even in the dark of night, the concern was visible on her face.

  “What the hell happened to your ankle, kid?”

  “Sprained.” She took my bags from the airport porter and tossed them into the trunk.

  “How?”

  “Running from a psycho.”

  She stopped at the passenger side door she was opening for me.

  “Iditarod guy was a psycho?”

  “No. Iditarod guy was perfect, but there are psycho killers in Alaska as I expected.” I got in the car, and Meg shoved my crutches into the back seat.

  “Psycho killers? What are you talking about?” She slid into the driver’s seat and angled against the door to face me.

  “Just get me home. Please.”

  Meg nodded, started the car, and pulled into the flow of traffic. “So what about Iditarod guy?”

  “What about him, Meg? He’s there. I’m here. End of story.”

  “I see.” Meg chewed on her bottom lip as she maneuvered around the car in front of us.

  The windshield wipers squeaking back and forth filled the silence inside Meg’s car. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the side window, watching it fog with my breath. Proof I was still alive even though my heart no longer beat.

  ****

  My apartment was a cold, dark rat hole compared to Dale’s log cabin. Okay, so it was a well-decorated, clean rat hole, but the scent of alone hung in the air like a noxious gas. I couldn’t take in a deep breath. My lungs wouldn’t allow it.

  Meg scooted by me and tossed her soaked umbrella into the holder by the door. She dropped my stuff onto the couch and flopped onto the soft cushions. Coiling her damp hair onto her shoulder, she rested her feet on my coffee table.

  “You should probably get off that ankle.” She patted the empty space next to her.

  Droplets of rain dribbled down my neck. I hovered, stone-still, in the threshold, staring at the stupid mat I had at the door that said, Wipe Your Paws.

  Paws. Of course.

  “Alanna. Come here.” Meg got up and tugged on my hand. I limped to the couch and rested the crutches against it. Easing down next to Meg, I sat and pulled a throw pillow onto my lap. Meg situated another pillow under my ankle on the coffee table, and I grunted in gratitude.

  We sat in complete silence, staring into the dark. I wasn’t aware until Meg put a hand on my wrist that I’d been petting the brown suede of the pillow in my lap. When I looked down, the pillow was dotted with something wet. Meg got up and went into the bathroom. When she returned, her jacket was off and the tissue box was in her hands. She didn’t say anything. She pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to me. I wiped away the tears, but more fell in their place.

  By the time Meg helped me get my coat off and slipped her arm around my shoulders, grief hit me like a tractor-trailer.

  “Oh, honey,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “Tell Meg all about it.”

  ****

  “Well.” Meg folded and unfolded the tissue on her lap. My tale had caused her to join the crying. “Well,” she said again.

  “Good thing I wasn’t away longer. Who knows what trouble I could have found?”

  Meg managed a weak chuckle as she rubbed my forearm. The rain drummed like a funeral dirge on my windows.

  “On a positive note, Evelynne is dying to read your finished article.”

  Dear Meg. Always finding a silver lining for me. She unsuccessfully stifled a yawn.

  “It’s late, Meg. You can go. I’ll be—”

  “Are you insane?”

  “What?”

  “Insane. Have you lost your mind?”

  “Maybe.” Definitely.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Whether you want it or not, we’re having a slumber party, kid.”

  ****

  When I awoke the next morning, Meg was hogging the entire bed, her long limbs stretched out in every direction. Her snore was loud and erratic, but somehow comforting. It combated the misery.

  Some of it anyway.

  I rolled to my side and closed my eyes, trying for a few more winks. Wasn’t ready to get up and face an entire day—an entire lifetime—without Dale.

  My mind pulled up a vision of Dale’s bedroom. The knotted pine walls. The sleigh bed. The waiting arms of an Iditarod champion and all the other glorious body parts that went along with that.

  “Oh, stop,” I hissed. The world wouldn’t fall apart because Dale and I weren’t together. The world sucked because of it, but surely it wouldn’t come unglued at the seams or wobble off its axis.

  I mean, I could fix all of this right now. Easily. Quit my job and hike back on over to Alaska. No big deal. Except that I hadn’t spent six years at Gaia, working my ass off to meet every deadline, to make sure every comma was in the right place, to write stories that said something. I couldn’t pack up and leave it all. I had been aiming for the big office, the big stories, the big paycheck. My arrow was so close to hitting its mark, and I wasn’t about to give that up for a silly thing like love. I’d lived for years without it. What were seventy or so more years?

  A loud breath escaped my lungs, and Meg shifted beside me. I rolled to my back, giving up on the extra zzz’s attempt. Meg’s sleepy squint would have been laughable under any other circumstances.

  “Morning,” she rasped.

  “Yes, it is.” Grouchy Alanna in full swing.

  “See.” Meg scooted up to rest her back on the headboard of my bed. “The sun still rose.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “No?” She hopped out of bed, jostling the mattress enough to make my ankle hurt. After ripping open the blinds, she flailed her hands toward the laser beams of sunlight that screamed into my bedroom. “What do you call that?”

  “Unfortunate.” I rolled away from her and pulled the covers over my head. “I liked the rain better.”

  “Alanna, hiding won’t make it hurt any less.” The bed bounced as she knelt and tugged the sheets until my head was exposed again.

  “What will?” I met Meg’s dark eyes, seriously hoping she had an answer to this question.

  She attempted to smooth her sleep-mussed hair. “Nothing I know of, kid.”

  Damn.

  “Why did you come back to New York?” she asked.

  It was my turn to slide up to sitting. “I had to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have a life here, Meg. I’ve got a great job. One that will get even better if I get promoted. I’ve worked for it. I deserve it.”

  Meg nodded as if what I had said had made sense to her. Of course it made sense. It was
practical. Stuff you couldn’t argue with. And yet, the argument sounded stupid even to me.

  “Okay. Maybe that’s where your answer lies. At work.” She fussed with the end of my T-shirt she had worn to bed. A cone filled with chocolate ice cream decorated the front of it.

  “Ice cream.” I slipped my legs out of the covers and reached for the crutches. “I need ice cream.”

  Meg reached over to my side of the bed and placed her hands on my shoulders. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning. You’re not having ice cream for breakfast. It won’t make you feel better, Alanna.”

  “I’ll use extra fudge sauce.”

  Meg shook her head. “C’mon. I’ll get you breakfast.” She hopped off the bed and walked out of the bedroom, gathering her long mane into a messy ponytail.

  “But you can’t even pour a glass of orange juice.” I followed Meg anyway. Something to do at least.

  “By get breakfast, I mean buy breakfast, of course.” Meg turned to me. “And then we’re going to do a load of laundry.” She pointed to my bags still packed on the couch. “Then we’ll buy groceries, go to the movies. Whatever you want.”

  “You don’t have to babysit me, Meg.”

  “I know. Maybe I missed having you around, you brat.”

  She plopped on the couch and turned on the TV. Bunching her legs underneath her, she looked so adolescent I had to laugh. I hobbled over and sat beside her.

  “I’m sorry.” I put my hand over hers, and she squeezed it.

  “You’re allowed to be a jerk.” She kept her eyes trained on the TV. “Just this once.”

  I poked her in the arm. “What’s happening with Matt?”

  Her dark chocolate eyes studied my face. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

  “No.” I cleared my throat. “No. I want to. I want to know all is not lost when it comes to love.” For everyone else besides me, that is.

  Meg twirled a hesitant finger around a length of her hair that had slipped from the ponytail.

  “Out with it, Petrisi. C’mon.”

  “Aside from his parents thinking I’m a bit…brazen, I think was the word his mother used…things are good.” She munched on her bottom lip. “Really good.”