Past Lies

by Bobby Hutchinson

  Adrenaline shot through Ivy’s system.

  “I’ll be right there, ETA seven minutes.”

  Thank God she wasn’t at the farthest point in the tour.

  “There’s a family emergency, we’re heading back to Valdez,” she told her guests. “I’ll make it up to you later. Just talk to Kisha back at the office and she’ll book another half hour for you, free of charge.”

  Six long minutes later, she hastily dumped her passengers at Up And Away. A few moments later the ambulance drove up. Medical staff hurried toward the copter, pushing her Uncle Theo on a wheeled stretcher. His face was obscured by a portable oxygen mask. With only a minimal amount of confusion, they loaded him into the back of the copter.

  One of the medics climbed in beside him, and Caitlin took the seat beside Ivy. One glance at her aunt’s ashen, terror-stricken face was enough to tear at Ivy’s heart. She caught the wordless plea in her aunt’s eyes and leaned over and kissed her.

  “It’s gonna be fine, Auntie Cait. We’ll be at the hospital in minutes.”

  She ran through her takeoff routine, and then they were airborne.

  Anchorage Regional Hospital was the only medical facility in the area with a landing pad for helicopters. The Valdez Hospital had radioed ahead and, as Ivy settled the Bell Ranger on the pad, emergency staff were waiting. They raced over, and within moments Theo was being whisked away, Caitlin running alongside holding his hand, the medic from Valdez bringing up the rear.

  Ivy watched as they all disappeared through the wide doors. “Please,” she murmured. “Please, God, help him. Please let him be okay.” She realized she was trembling, and that tears were trickling down her cheeks. Finding a tissue, she blotted her eyes and blew her nose.

  “Gotta get out of here,” she said to nobody. Much as she longed to be with Caitlin, the medevac could be arriving at any moment and she was blocking the landing pad. Ivy debated flying out to the airport and putting the Ranger in a hangar so she could stick around, but it only took a few moments’ consideration to convince her that wasn’t a good idea.

  There was little Ivy could do here in Anchorage, apart from giving her aunt moral support. It would be more productive to help out at the lodge. With both Caitlin and Theo absent, the full responsibility of running the place would fall on Sage and Ben. They’d need all the help available.

  There were also commitments at Up And Away that couldn’t be cancelled on such short notice. Guests at the lodge had booked the copter for an eagle-sighting tour that afternoon. It wasn’t fair to disappoint them.

  Tom was flying much-needed supplies in to remote settlements the way he did every week, and he wouldn’t be able to delay his trip, either. It made better sense all round for Ivy to go straight back to Valdez.

  Anchorage had wilderness at its very doorstep, and usually Ivy drank in the aerial view of mountain ranges and miles of virgin forest. But today, for the first time ever, the raw beauty of the Alaskan landscape didn’t comfort her or bring her joy. She flew over it without really seeing it.

  Theo and Caitlin were the very heartbeat of Raven Lodge, making the thousand and one things they did each day look easy. Ivy and Tom would pitch in, but Sage and Ben would have to take on most of the load.

  Ben’s twin, Logan, would undoubtedly fly in from Seattle as soon as he heard. Logan was a lawyer, and he hadn’t really worked at the lodge for years, so he wouldn’t know much about the routine.

  There were competent guides for the fishing expeditions, but someone needed to be in charge. Ivy knew the lodge was almost fully booked. That meant eight or ten extra bodies to feed and entertain, as well as rooms to clean and laundry to do.

  The bookings could be canceled, but… Her aunt would only agree in the most extreme circumstances—if—if—Ivy swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

  She couldn’t think about that, so instead she concentrated on practical matters, like meals. Caitlin and Mavis did all the cooking. They had help in the summer, but right now they were on their own.

  Mavis had lived at the lodge for the past fifteen years. She was eccentric, but she was an amazing cook. Because of her scarred face, however, she wouldn’t serve or socialize at all with guests. Caitlin did all that. Sage could probably take over, but then there’d be no one to do the bookings and juggling of schedules.

  As well as taking guests out on fishing trips, Theo kept track of their complex schedules, figuring out who was going where and when they were due back or needed to be picked up. Ben would have to take that over, or maybe it was something Logan could do.

  Alex was still there, of course. Theo had planned to supervise the building of the cabins and also work along with the carpenter on their construction. Would Alex stick around?

  Not likely, Ivy surmised with a sigh. After all, he was a stranger, with no investment whatsoever in the lodge. And he could easily find another carpentry job in Valdez; there was a high turnover at the hotel’s construction site.

  Ivy remembered to radio Tom, letting him know she was on her way back, adding that she had no idea of Theo’s condition. Caitlin had promised to phone the moment there was any news, and of course Tom and Ivy could be at the hospital in about an hour with either the floatplane or the copter.

  As she neared Valdez, Ivy made a decision. The only thing for her to do was to pack a bag and move out to the lodge. She hated to leave the snug little house she rented in Valdez, but there was nothing else for it. Thanks to the copter pad, she could be in Valdez in a matter of minutes to take out charter flights.

  She was on the ground when she realized that the one person she hadn’t even thought about in all this was Frances. Had Tom thought to call her? Probably not.

  Sure, Frances kept up a facade of friendliness with Caitlin and Theo, but Ivy knew that’s all it was. A facade. Her mother never visited the lodge, even though her aunt and uncle often dropped in to see Frances and Tom when they were in Valdez.

  There was no point in expecting Frances to help now, Ivy thought bitterly. It made her furious to have to admit all over again that Frances was in this family, but not of it.

  LATE THAT AFTERNOON, Ivy was tossing pants and sweaters into a duffel bag in her bedroom when Tom phoned.

  “Caitlin just called,” he said.

  “And?” Ivy’s throat went dry.

  “The doctors say—hold on a minute, I wrote it all down.”

  There was a pause, a rustle of paper, and then Tom recited, “Theo suffered a severe myocardial infarction. He isn’t out of danger yet. There’s been significant damage to his heart muscle, and he’s going to need rest and rehabilitation. No one will say how long he might be in hospital.” There was a pause and then Tom said, “Not very good news, huh?”

  “No, not good.” Ivy swallowed hard and stuffed underwear into a plastic bag so she’d be able to locate it easily. “But at least he’s getting the best of care, Dad. Was Aunt Cait worried about the guests at the lodge?”

  “Yeah, she was. I told her you were heading out, and she was really grateful. Said to tell you it’s a big relief to her, knowing you’ll be there. She says Mavis isn’t too good at planning menus, that maybe you could do that?”

  Ivy’s heart sank. She had no idea how to even go about it. How did you judge quantity? “I’ll do my best,” she said in a confident tone.

  “Good girl.”

  Ivy’s eyes filled with tears. It was what he’d always said when she was little. Theo’s heart attack was making her aware that Tom was getting older, too.

  They talked for a few moments about schedules at Up And Away, and then Tom hung up. Ivy finished packing, emptied the fridge of milk and yogurt, and was adjusting the furnace thermostat when the phone rang again.

  When she answered, Frances said, “Ivy, it’s me. Tom told me what’s happened. He said Caitlin’s concerned about the menus. If you want to do them, that’s absolutely fine, but if you don’t have time, I’d enjoy working them out. I could put them on the computer at school eac
h day and then e-mail them to Sage. It would be best not to tell Mavis I’m doing them, though. I suspect she’s rather territorial when it comes to the kitchen. What do you think?”

  It was a huge relief. “Great idea, Mom.”

  “That’s settled, then. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  She’d misjudged her mother, Ivy realized when the call ended. But all she had to go on was the past. And Frances didn’t really have much of a track record there, did she?

  Ivy soon learned Frances was right about Mavis. The eccentric little woman was not a happy camper with Caitlin absent. She resented any change in her routine. She was much more cantankerous and stubborn than Ivy had suspected she’d be, and she made it plain she wasn’t happy about taking direction from either Sage or Ivy. She argued with them over everything and bossed them mercilessly.

  By the third evening, Ivy had learned the hard way what a mad scramble it was to feed eight guests and a varying number of employees three times a day. Neighbors had learned of Theo’s illness and were beginning to send food. Ivy and Sage welcomed all donations with grateful hearts and profuse thanks. Mavis, on the other hand, resented the offerings. “They figure I can’t manage on my own?” she snorted each time a casserole or some baking appeared. “They figure I’m over the hill?”

  Ivy tried to calm her down by saying—truthfully—that she couldn’t imagine how Caitlin and Mavis did it, week in and week out, all during the season. And the dishes. There was a dishwasher, but it ran off the generator, and if guests were showering it took forever to put a load through.

  “You young folks can do the hand washing,” Mavis proclaimed the very first night, as if she was granting a gift, and as soon as dinner was served, she disappeared up the back stairs to her room. Ivy figured the older woman was probably exhausted and too proud to admit it. Lord knows she was exhausted, and she was only half Mavis’s age.

  Tonight, Sage was busy changing linens in the guest bedrooms for a new group arriving in the morning, so Ivy was on her own with a mountain of pots and pans. She was grateful when Alex appeared beside her. He gently shoved her aside and rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

  “You dry. My hands could use a good soak in hot water,” he said, handing her a tea towel. “I got grease on them from that motor Oliver and I were trying to repair.”

  “Did you get it fixed?” During the past several days, Ivy’d been impressed by Alex. Instead of heading back to Valdez as she’d expected, he’d stayed on, quietly and efficiently taking on whatever needed doing, from working in the kitchen to waiting tables to helping clean the boats and outfit them for the next day’s excursion. He was cheerful, and he seemed to have a sixth sense as to where he was needed.

  “Oliver thinks we did. I’m not so confident. Motors aren’t my area of expertise.” He carefully washed a pot, handed it to Ivy to dry and reached for another, his motions efficient and methodical. They worked in silence for a few moments.

  Ivy studied his hands. He had long fingers, calloused. And yet somehow his hands seemed refined, a workman’s hands but with class. That’s what this guy was, she decided, drying another casserole dish. Alex was classy blue collar.

  His voice snapped her out of her reverie. “That chicken stuff was fantastic, but this pan it baked in doesn’t want to come clean.” He reached for a plastic scrubber and rubbed hard.

  “A friend of Caitlin’s, Mary Louise Bell, sent that over,” Ivy said. “She runs Bell House, a B&B a few miles out of Valdez.”

  “Nice folks, bringing food. It’s a lot different here than it is in the city,” he remarked. “Two guys came by today in a boat, offered to help me dig the foundation for the cabins.”

  Ivy nodded. “Alaskans are like that, really neighborly.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Alex rinsed the pan and handed it to her. “I have a theory that it’s the climate. You know, man against nature.”

  He was studying her face as if he intended to memorize every feature. Ivy rubbed at a damp spot on the casserole dish and tried to ignore his gaze.

  “That and the fact that there aren’t many people in the state. 640,000, latest census.” How could you feel sexy about a man up to his elbows in soapsuds? But she did. “Even though where area is concerned,” she babbled, “we’re one fifth the size of the entire U.S.A.”

  God, when had she started sounding like a school-teacher—and a dull one at that?

  “Spoken like a tour guide,” he said. He had a dimple in one cheek when he smiled. The steam was fogging up his glasses, and he wiped at them with his shirtsleeve.

  “Well, you have to know those things, if you’re going to fly tourists around,” she defended herself. “Just like Aunt Caitlin has to know how to plan meals for dozens of people, and use what’s available because she can’t always get to a store.”

  “Your aunt’s an amazing woman,” Alex agreed, turning back to the sink. “And your uncle’s no slouch, either. Not that I had time to really get to know them.” He scrubbed out a lasagna pan, rinsed it and handed it to Ivy.

  Their fingers touched. His were wet and he had dark hair on the backs of his wrists. He was giving her that look again, heavy-lidded, a sexy look that had nothing to do with Theo and Cait, or pots, either.

  “I need a dry towel,” she said, opening a drawer, giving herself time to calm down. “Uncle Theo’s always spoiled me,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Some of my best recipes have come from Aunt Caitlin. I keep telling her she needs to write a cookbook. Everyone who stays here would buy one.”

  “You like to cook, Ivy?”

  She smiled back at him this time. “Next to flying, it’s my favorite thing. And then eating comes third. When I was little, Dad would fly me up here and I’d stay for a sleepover. No matter how busy she was, Caitlin would always take time to teach me how to make cookies or scones. She makes the best scones.”

  He was scrubbing a frying pan now. “Theo told me how long his family’s lived here. He didn’t say where they came from. Were they part of the gold rush?”

  “Yeah, they were.” Ivy leaned against the counter, partly because she was feeling tired—it had been an exceptionally long and hectic day—but mostly so she could watch his face while they talked. There was something about Alex’s face that she found intriguing. He didn’t smile much, but when he did it was worth waiting for.

  She forced herself to stop staring. “You want the long Galloway history, or the short?”

  He wiped his forehead with a wet hand. “Make it the long one. We still have a ways to go with these damn pots.”

  “Okay.” She thought for a moment, organizing what she knew. “Theo’s grandfather, William Galloway, emigrated from Scotland just when the Alaska gold rush started, 1896, thereabouts. William’s twin brother, Robert, came with him from Edinburgh, and they got caught up in the excitement.”

  “Gold fever,” Alex drawled.

  “You got it. Instead of getting jobs building the Canadian railway the way they’d planned, they headed for the Klondike, taking William’s wife, Jenny, along. That’s her and William above the fireplace in the living room.”

  “Lovely lady. Like you, Ivy.”

  “Idiot.” She flicked the tea towel at his butt. Nice-shaped butt, she noted. “I’m not even related, except by marriage.”

  “Of course not.” He looked at her, and she could see the admiration in his eyes. “I didn’t say you looked like her. I simply meant that both of you are beautiful.”

  “You need new glasses.” She hated when men said that, because she knew it wasn’t true. She knew what female beauty looked like, and she wasn’t close. Attractive, maybe. Beautiful, no.

  “Anyway,” she went on, “they spent some time prospecting in Dawson, but they didn’t strike it rich. William was an engineer by trade, and he gave up on gold and started thinking transportation, which was a smart move. He was one of the driving forces behind the building of the White Pass and Yukon Railway.”

  Alex had
stopped scrubbing and was watching her. “I read about that railway before I came north. Quite an engineering feat.”

  “Keep going, we’re almost done.” She nodded toward the frying pan and iron soup pot that still needed washing. “It’s mostly used to transport tourists now, but it brought thousands of prospectors and their supplies to the Klondike Gold Rush. Anyhow, there was some kind of family quarrel that resulted in Robert immigrating to Australia, and when the gold thing didn’t work for them, William and Jenny left Dawson and came here to Prince William Sound, because they’d fallen in love with Alaska.”

  “Got bitten by the ice worm?” Alex said.

  “There actually are ice worms, you know. They eat snow algae and pollen, and somehow they bore their way deep into the glaciers.”

  He let the greasy water out of the sink. “You ought to write a book, Ms. Pierce. Ice worms and other little-known facts about Alaska.”

  It was hard to stay focused. He had wonderful arms and shoulders, slender but still muscular.

  “William and Jenny moved to Prince William Sound,” Alex prompted, refilling the sink with fresh hot water and adding dish soap.

  “William was an entrepreneur, and when he got here he saw the potential for a salmon packing plant, which he designed and had built. It was madly successful and, under his guidance, it grew into a complete, self-sufficient community, with its own store and post office, relying on carrier pigeons for communicating anything urgent.”

  “Carrier pigeons?” He laughed. “You’re making this up, Pierce.”

  He had a great laugh, rich and free. Too bad he didn’t laugh more.

  “Not a word of it. William built Jenny this house.” Ivy dried another pot and stowed it away. “She started having babies to fill it, a son named Bruce, and twin daughters, Martha and Emma.”