Hanna chuckled. “I know Carl. That leaves, John, right? The white-collar dude with a trust fund that covered the basics.” Hanna had been gazing across the lake as pink-tipped clouds scuttled south. “You and Carl changed life directions. Is John in on this deal, too?”
A shallow breath accompanied the tense, sharp jerk of his head. The answer took overly long to come, flat and toneless. “He decided to kill himself four weeks ago. He pissed a lot of people off.”
Hanna’s attention flicked from the lake to his face. “I’m sorry.” His pain was obviously new and still raw. It took the blood from his face.
“You couldn’t have known.” Duncan gave a small shake of his head, almost a tremor. “None of us understand why so we just have to move on. Your turn.” Duncan took a deep breath and glanced sideways at her. “What’s your story?”
Hanna loved saying what she did. “I’m a freight rat. I fly C-130’s for Arctic Cargo. I started working for Charlie when I was seventeen. I needed money for college. He taught me to fly.”
“Married?” Duncan asked.
Hanna tilted her head. “No.” She hoped her abrupt answer didn’t sound rude. Six years, she happily hadn’t thought about her ex-husband in a long time. “I did a stint in the Air Force, when I got out I got a divorce and came back to Alaska.” Hanna wondered if Duncan considered arrogance and egotism good personality traits. She also wondered if his big hands had ever bloodied a woman’s lip.
“I fly for Charlie on my time off so I can use his plane to get back and forth to my cabin when I need to recharge my batteries. If this is a good year, I’ll have enough money to get my own plane.”
“You’re a regular around here then. Are you from Alaska?”
She rearranged her feet. “Yes. Sort of. My mother was from Dillingham. My dad was from California. It wasn’t the most stable union. My grandparents raised me.” She’d been passed between grandmothers from the time she was born. One lived in Dillingham, Alaska and one lived in Sacramento, so once or twice a year she’d tolerated being uprooted and passed from one patting, hugging bosom to the other.
Hanna grimaced. “Look, I might have been mean to you yesterday. I was surprised is all; I don’t like surprises. You’re probably going to change things.” A good night’s sleep had softened her resentment from the day before. She appreciated his thoughtfulness for Nell. And, the man got up early and made his own coffee. A major plus.
“You know…” Duncan nodded slightly. “It could be a change for the better.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Maybe.” It might be nice to be wrong for a change—on the other hand, she wasn’t usually wrong.
A full minute passed. Hanna was comfortably aware of how close she was to him. Nothing but the popping fire interrupted the silence of the morning. She adored the sharp scent of spruce kindling just starting to burn. Her comfort smell was a stove full of seasoned birch. She never got enough of it but duty called.
“Are you going back to Anchorage with me this morning?” Hanna asked.
“Can you come back later this afternoon? I learned a lot since I got here. But a few more hours—I’ve got a notebook full of notes.” He touched the spiral notebook in his shirt pocket like a talisman.
“Duncan?” Hanna controlled her annoyance with a rhetorical question. “Did you fly in here with me yesterday?” He didn’t understand. She had to take his green-horn status into consideration. “The weather determines everything up here. Well, there’s also the cost.” She glanced out the large window again as if she hadn’t been watching the pale dawn shimmer gold onto the very tops of the trees. “I’ll say yes, but it depends on what flight service says, and I haven’t talked to Charlie yet today. I know I have to get out of here this morning. But, heck, it’s your money.”
“I guess I’ll have to learn to plan further ahead.”
“Yeah, I guess you will. This isn’t a place where you jog down to the corner store for a quart of milk and a morning paper.”
Nell shuffled into the living room. “Have you seen Harry?” She was struggling to get an arm into the same tattered, oversized shirt she had met the plane in the day before. The sleeve of her floor length flannel nightgown was bunched awkwardly, causing the difficulty.
Hanna turned. “Good morning, Nell. Sweetie, come sit in front of the fire and get your bearings.” She moved across the room and untangled Nell’s sleeves.
Duncan reached for Hanna’s cup. “I’ll get refills.”
It took half an hour and two cups of coffee for Nell to get over her confusion. She directed Hanna and Duncan with imperial majesty through breakfast.
Hanna worked around the kitchen with ease. “I’m ready whenever you are,” she said to Duncan as she folded the dishtowel and hung it up.
“Nell, I’ll be back tomorrow.” Duncan recited the plan. “Then, we’ll have a week of orientation, right?”
“That’s what we agreed,” Nell said. A flash of irritation passed as quickly as it came. “I always wondered what retirement would be like.” Nell followed them to the door. “I’m going to visit my kids, and I’m gonna go to see my sister in Arizona. This is gonna be great.”
Duncan slipped into his shoes, and Hanna stopped by the front door to put on her boots. When they got halfway across the yard Nell whistled the dog back to her and called from the porch, “Duncan, don’t forget to get some boots!”
Duncan touched his chest pocket for reassurance. The list was far from complete, and boots weren’t the only thing he had to consider.
The bright morning smelled crisp and fresh. Duncan watched Hanna’s appearance change the closer they got to the plane. She pointed Duncan to his seat, and a professional curtain dropped around her. She answered questions, but she didn’t talk about anything unnecessary. When she got into the plane to take off she said, “You weren’t interested when we left Anchorage, if you want to hear what’s going on and talk to me in the air I’ll give you a headset.”
“I’d like that,” Duncan replied. “Thanks.” His misery from yesterday was replaced by awe as Hanna flung the little plane up and away from the big trees circling the comforting bowl of the lake. Vast emptiness magnified the insignificance of the tiny airplane.
Hanna got the plane up to altitude, and he saw her relax. “Are your eyes full yet?” She turned her head and bestowed an incandescent smile on him.
“Are you kidding? I think my head’s going to explode. Was all this here yesterday?” Duncan craned his neck to look behind them.
She laughed. “The light is different, but you were pretty out of it yesterday. I’m not surprised you didn’t see anything.”
“Oh sure, but how could I miss one big-ass mountain?” Duncan jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the luminous giant outlined by a clear blue sky.
“Denali,” she said. “It was hiding behind the clouds. There are people who come to Alaska just to take pictures of the mountain, and it stays hidden for weeks at a time. Fickle beast.”
Duncan liked her laugh. “Will you be bringing me back in a couple of days?”
“Nope. I fly for Charlie every other week or so. I’ve got a real job, remember?”
Duncan couldn’t get over the change that happened when Hanna got in the air. Her radiant face had a half smile that looked like it could be permanent. Passion for anything was attractive, and this woman was passionate about flying. He wondered about her other passions.
Chapter 4
Two days later Duncan returned to the lodge after his preliminary shopping with Carl. Charlie hadn’t made much of an impression previously, except of course for cranky. His wiry frame and thinning white hair didn’t hide his skill, reminding Duncan of how fascinated he was with Hanna’s ability as a pilot.
When Nell met the plane with the four-wheeler and cart, she immediately began to complain. “What did ya bring all this stuff back for?” Nell uncrossed her arms and reached for one of the two new brooms as Duncan pulled them out of the belly of Charlie’s plane. “You’re g
onna go broke spending all’a this money. We got a broom.”
“It can’t hurt to have more than one.” What Duncan didn’t say was how much he looked forward to burning the one Nell had.
From inside the plane, Charlie pushed another bucket of paint through the cargo door. Next came a big-box-store gallon size, double-pack of liquid pine cleaner.
Duncan said, “Excuse me.” Nell stood between the cart, and Duncan had to stop and wait for her to step back.
“We got all kind o’ cleaner. Why did ya buy more?”
“Nell, please, I think a spring cleaning will take all you’ve got, so I brought more. Charlie and I can finish this, and I’d sure like to have a cup of coffee. Charlie? How about you?”
“Yup.” Charlie nodded and tossed a bag out the door of the plane which Duncan caught on the fly. “Nell, you always make a mean cup of coffee.”
“Well, if you don’t want my help—” She balanced the broom on the side of the four-wheeler cart and angrily turned toward the lodge. “I’ll just go make Charlie some coffee.”
“Thank you,” Duncan called after her.
Charlie pushed a tote toward the door of the plane and raised his eyebrows at Duncan. “It’s going to be a long week if she keeps up.”
“Yes, it is,” Duncan said.
The next morning Duncan kept his promise and started his slog through the generator shed. As he cleaned he found tools and empty buckets. He started a collection point for the miscellaneous odds and ends he didn’t know what to do with. He found the owner’s manual for the generator, bent and covered in grime, far back on a shelf with empty filter packages and more soot-covered oil additive jugs, some full, most empty.
“Aw, we never needed any of those.” Nell reached for the manual. “I’ll put it in the burn barrel with the rest of this stuff.”
“No. Nell, I want to keep it.”
“Why?”
“Bedtime reading.” Duncan had another thought. “Are there other manuals for the equipment around here?”
“Harry has all’a the odd books he keeps in the machine shed. Ask him.”
Duncan squinted. “Right. I’ll ask Harry.” The dead man.
The next day the long open machine shed got its turn.
Nell stomped through the ice-filled muddy water trickling through the boggy yard. “Why do you want to move those snow-machines now?” She stopped and planted both hands on her hips.
Duncan had a tow-strap attached to one of the snow-machines, the other end he’d hooked to a four-wheeler. “I’m moving it to the machine shed.”
“Ya don’t need to go makin’ a mess draggin’ shit across the yard.”
“I told you at breakfast, now move out of the way.”
“Watch your tongue, young man—”
“Nell, go back to the porch.” Duncan’s patience wore through a thin spot. “I don’t want you hurt.” She drew her lips into a hard line, turned, and stalked back to the lodge.
The days following had the same routine. Duncan tackled a project and Nell objected. Now he counted the days until Nell left. He counted the hours and minutes and seconds until Nell left.
Duncan wrenched the last nut on the water pump snug. Water stopped spraying onto the wall, and Duncan’s shoulders relaxed. For the first time all week, he was glad to look up and find her leaning against the door frame watching. “Nell, I don’t know anything about plumbing. What do I do if it breaks again?”
“Ya just figure it out. Get your jacket, we’re takin’ a ride.”
Duncan started to object, but once again reminded himself she wasn’t going to be here forever. All too soon she would be gone, and he would have to know these things. He was finally getting used to her scatter-shot teaching methods.
“Where are we going?” He snatched his jacket from where it hung on a nail and followed Nell outside. After one week it was as stained and torn as the one Nell had met the plane in on the first day. Trashed was the term to use. He’d had no idea how truly destructive the work at the lodge was going to be. He added get more clothes to his list. His fleece-lined jacket soaked up the water dripping off his eyebrow.
“Tom’s place.” Nell continued to walk away. She shifted the rifle from one hand to the other. “He’s your hired man.”
“My hired man?” Duncan trotted to catch up with the long strides of the old woman. “Nell, I bought the lodge, and I’ll accept inheriting a cat I don’t want, but I’d like to decide who my employees are.” The puppy gamboled along behind Nell, and Duncan had to do an irritated two-step to avoid stepping on him.
“No, you won’t.” Nell didn’t slow her pace, and when she got to the long open shed, she stopped and surveyed the options for the day’s travel. “By the way, you did a good job on this shed, looks real nice. Looks real nice.”
She’d bitched and complained about every piece of equipment he’d moved. She didn’t like anything he did. And this was the first compliment he’d gotten for all his muscle strain. “Thanks.” One more day, only one more day. Duncan rubbed deep into the small of his back and winced. The neatly arranged equipment, snow-machines and four-wheelers, didn’t testify to how many had been pushed, pulled, or dragged into place. When Nell sold the lodge, the deal had included the four-wheelers and snow machines. She’d failed to mention how few of them would actually start. “Where are we going?” Duncan asked again.
Nell pitched a leg over the green ATV four-wheeler, and it screamed to life on the first attempt. She didn’t answer his question and slowly edged the machine out of its place in the long pole shed. She stopped when she came even with where he stood outside the shed, scooted back on the seat, and pointed in front of her. “You drive.”
Duncan swung on and resigned himself to another adventure. As they left the yard Nell pointed back toward the lodge. “Stay.” The puppy followed anyway until distracted by a Magpie.
A brilliant cloudless day sparkled on the lake. “Ice is gett’n real rotten.” Nell hollered in his ear, sporadically she added other comments. “Trail’s sloppy.” Duncan slowed to maneuver through a two foot deep stew of black muck. “Keep goin’, don’t stop.” She silently pointed to the moose tracks crossing the trail.
A group of ruffed grouse whirred up and away from the side of the trail when he got abreast of them. A rush of adrenalin blasted into his chest.
“Real warm today,” she said. Duncan wondered how long he would have to live here before he thought of forty degrees as warm.
Ten minutes later Duncan’s back twinged, signaling he’d spent plenty long enough straddling the bucking seat of a four-wheeler. Ahead of him, the close, forested shore they rode through opened to a wider expanse of rocky beach. A small, low cabin presented itself on his left and Nell smacked his arm and pointed. “That’s where we’re headed,” she shouted.
Duncan stopped in front of the cabin and shut off the roaring engine. He dismounted and massaged the cramp out of his leg. The old injury always told him when he had pushed his physical limits. This week it talked to him often. Nell stepped off behind him.
The noise had alerted the cabin’s occupant to visitors. A bull of a man, somewhere between the ages of thirty and fifty, stepped out of the cabin door. He had long brown hair, tied back with a leather thong, and a dense beard hanging over his thick chest.
He ducked his head. “Howdy, Nell.” His gray eyes were openly curious when he turned to Duncan. “Howdy.”
Nell marched up close to him. “Are you sober?”
The man opened his arms and raised his hands palms up. His eyes traveled from the buttons on his flannel shirt to the toes of his boots. He lifted his head and without changing his position looked Nell in the face. “So it appears, but the day is young.”
“Good, we’ve got business.” Nell peered hard into the man’s face and added, “Are you growing a beard again?”
“You’re wandering, Nell. I haven’t shaved in three years.”
Nell loudly blew between her lips and shook her head. “
Oh. Whatever. This is Duncan, he just bought the lodge. I told him you worked for him, but he got pissy about want’n to know you first.” She turned to Duncan. “You talk to Tom; I’m gonna use the outhouse.”
They watched Nell disappear around the corner of the cabin, joined in mutual exasperation.
Duncan spoke first, “Good morning Tom, I’m Duncan Mahoney.” He stuck his hand out, and the two men shook hands. “Like Nell said, I bought the lodge, and this morning is the first time I heard anything about an employee.”
“Tom Franklin.” The man smiled without conviction. “Welcome to Cotton Grass Lake. I’m not really an employee.” Tom moved closer to the ATV, and as he talked, he fished a multi-tool from his pants pocket and opened it. “I’m the local handyman. When I work, you pay me.” He reached into the engine compartment and adjusted a small screw. “I’m also the local drunk. Try that.”
Duncan deduced he was to start the engine of the four-wheeler. A low rumble rocked the machine instead of the screaming roar he expected. “What did you do?” Duncan asked.
Tom jerked his head at the machine. “Just a little out of adjustment.” He scrubbed his ham-sized hand over his face. “How’s she doing?”
Duncan turned off the purring engine. “What do you mean?”
“Nell.” Tom said. “Have you known her long? Did her kids set this up?”
“I don’t know her kids, and I met her about a week and a half ago.” Duncan couldn’t quite put his finger on the anxiety blowing quickly across the big man’s hard-worn face.
“She has some kind of old timers’ disease,” Tom said. “You know what I mean? She drifts, but it comes and goes. If you haven’t noticed then—” Tom shrugged. “Good.” The door to the outhouse slammed, and Tom’s eyes flicked toward the sound, he raised both eyebrows and didn’t continue talking.
Nell raised her voice at the two men before she rounded the corner of the cabin and came into sight. “Tom, you keep the same schedule as before. Just remember, Duncan’s a damn green Cheechoko so don’t take advantage of him.” She continued when she saw Duncan, “Let’s go. I gotta talk to Edna. I want her to feed the dog while we’re gone.”
Cotton Grass Lodge Page 4