by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel
“I don’t feel sorry for you.” Dana gave a wry smile. Maybe she did feel bad for that boy whose mother deserted him, but not for the man he’d grown into. “In fact, if I’m honest, this weekend when I saw you and Ursula hug, I was a little jealous. I’d love to have someone in my life who was that glad to see me show up.”
He shot her a questioning look. “What about your mom?”
Dana shrugged. “She’s kind of lost in her own little world of retail therapy. Dad never paid much attention. I thought once we started working together…” She trailed off before turning toward Sam. “Chris was the only one I ever felt close to.”
“Until he left?”
“Yeah. I missed him so much.” She gave him a tight smile. “But you’re right. No pity parties. Moving on.”
He nodded. After a few moments, he spoke in a quiet voice. “That’s the only way, you know. Moving on. Life moves forward, and you can either paddle your own boat, or you can throw up your hands and let the current carry you wherever it will. But you can’t stay where you are. It doesn’t work that way.”
“You’re quite a philosopher.”
“That’s me.” He grinned. “After my shift, I go to the gym and work out on the rowing machine for a while. Gives me time to think.”
“I suppose it would.” They rode in silence. Time to think. Maybe that’s what had been missing in her life. Between work and babysitting her mother and volunteering at the shelter, not to mention caring for Dad and then chasing after this will, Dana hadn’t taken the time to stop and think for a long while. Maybe she’d done it on purpose, kept herself busy so she wouldn’t have to think about where she was going, why she was doing what she did. “I believe you’re right.”
Sam glanced at her. “About what?”
“About moving forward. Maybe it’s time I did a little paddling of my own.”
* * *
SAM DROVE ONWARD, the only sound the hum of his tires over the highway. The day had started out overcast, but as they drove north through the tunnel of trees lining both sides of the highway, blue sky appeared overhead. Dana had been quiet for the last thirty miles or so, to his relief. He didn’t talk about his childhood. None of the people he worked with knew, and yet, once Dana had started asking questions, the story seemed to pour out. And she hadn’t judged him.
More importantly, she didn’t pity him, not really. There seemed to be a connection between them, a certain empathy that allowed her to understand. Maybe because she had those same empty places inside.
Her phone rang. She checked the screen and made a face before answering. “Hi, Mom.”
There was a long pause. Dana rubbed her forehead while she listened. Finally, she spoke. “No, she’s right.” Another pause. “If you let the account overdraw, there will be huge fees and you’ll have that much less next month.”
Beside the road, Sam spotted the sign for a scenic overlook. On a clear day like this, it was worth stopping. He never got tired of this view.
Dana continued to listen, tapping her free hand against her knee. She was obviously agitated, but she kept her voice gentle and matter-of-fact. “You’ll either have to wait until the first of the month, or return something. That’s just the way it is. Yes, well, that’s her job. Goodbye. I’ll talk with you soon.”
She closed her eyes and flung her head back against the seat just as Sam pulled into the overlook. He turned off the engine.
“Why…” Dana opened her eyes and looked through the windshield. “Ooh.” The word whooshed out in a long breath, almost a sigh. The mountain rose before them in all its glory, the sun glistening off the snow-covered peaks against the blue sky. “It’s beautiful.”
“We’re lucky. Denali is so high it makes its own weather. Most days we wouldn’t be able to see the peak.”
“I had no idea mountains like that existed.”
“Denali. The Great One.”
“We don’t have anything like that in Kansas.”
He laughed. “Well, we don’t have cornfields, so maybe it all evens out.”
She just shook her head and climbed out of the truck without ever taking her eyes off the mountain. Eventually, he coaxed her into turning so he could take her picture with Denali and Foraker in the background. “Ready to go?”
“Just a few more minutes?”
“Take your time.” He came to stand beside her, feeling oddly proud, as if he were somehow responsible for arranging the weather so that she could see Denali at its best. He gazed at the mountain for a few minutes and then turned to watch Dana. Happiness and wonder transformed her face from simply pretty to beautiful.
“Sam.” She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.”
* * *
BY THE TIME they arrived in Fairbanks and checked into a cabin so they could leave Kimmik, Dana was starving. Sam must have felt the same way. “I know a little sandwich shop near the campus. They have great homemade soups.”
“Sounds perfect.”
A few minutes later, they were sitting at a pine table, chowing down on turkey sandwiches. Dana took a spoonful of soup, savoring the mushrooms blended with the nutty taste of barley. “Yum.”
“Sam?” A man with a thick head of gray hair crossed to their table.
Sam stood and offered his hand. “Professor.”
“Good to see you. I wasn’t sure you were still working in Alaska.”
“I’m actually doing a rotation in Siberia now, infill drilling.”
“Excellent. And this must be your wife?”
Dana wondered if she imagined the smile that flashed across Sam’s face for just a moment. “No, a friend. Dana Raynott, this is Dr. Higgins. He performed the miracle of pounding the principles of thermodynamics into my head.”
The man chuckled. “Don’t let that modest act fool you. Sam was one of my most gifted engineering students.”
“I’m sure.” Dana smiled. “Nice to meet you, Doctor.” She shook his hand.
“Well, I just wanted to say hello. I’ll let you get back to your lunch.”
Dana watched him go. She’d been out of college for thirteen years. She doubted any of her professors would remember her. Sam must have been an exceptional student. All around her, young people were settled at tables with open laptops. This seemed to be one of those places that let customers nurse a cup of coffee all day while they studied.
She could picture a younger Sam at one of these tables, immersed in a book, with that line across his forehead that appeared whenever he concentrated. Getting top grades would have been important to him, part of paddling his own boat. He’d come a long way from that little boy with no father and an alcoholic mother.
And how did her own father fit into that picture? There must have been some relationship between him and Sam’s father. How else would Sam’s mother have known to write him? Once they finished lunch, they would go to the city clerk’s office to see if public records gave them any clue as to what that relationship could be.
Part of her was eager to find more, but at the same time, she worried. What if they found something awful? She set her sandwich on her plate. Her father was a good man. Maybe he wasn’t the most hands-on father, but he had built a reputation for honesty and fairness in all his business dealings. She had nothing to worry about. So why did her stomach feel as if she’d swallowed a rock?
Sam had cleaned his plate and was eying hers. “Are you going to finish your sandwich?”
She shook her head. “I’m full. You can have it if you like.”
“Thanks.” She smiled as she watched him wolf down the sandwich as if he wasn’t sure where his next meal might be coming from. He saw her noticing and gave a sheepish smile, but that didn’t stop him from eating every last crumb.
Once their plates were empty, Sam gathered their dishes onto
a tray and bussed it to a cart near the kitchen. “Ready to get some answers?”
She stood up straight and nodded. “Ready.”
* * *
TEN MINUTES LATER, they found the city clerk’s office and walked up to the desk. Dana smiled at the clerk. “Excuse me. We’re trying to find information on two men that may have lived in Fairbanks in the late seventies. How can we access the census records?”
“Census records are federal. This is city.”
“Oh. How would we go about finding the federal records?”
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.” The clerk shook her head. “Federal census records are sealed for seventy-two years.”
Dana looked at Sam in dismay. He stepped forward. “Are there any public records from that time we can see?”
“Well, there are property tax records. Did either of them own a house?”
“Possibly.”
“If you know when, you can search the records.”
“Okay. Can you help us with that?”
“Oh, no. That’s not city, that’s borough. You’ll need to go to the assessor’s office.” She gave them directions.
They found the assessor’s office without much difficulty but had to wait in line. The white-haired woman in front of them was there to complain about the assessment on her home, but although the clerk repeatedly explained to her that the appeal process had expired months ago, she continued to argue that the taxes were much too high and she wasn’t going to pay them. The discussion went in circles for almost half an hour before she managed to pacify the woman with the mailing address for the review board.
Finally, the harried clerk turned to them with an obviously forced smile. “How may I help you?”
“We need to find out if either of two men owned property in Fairbanks.”
“That information is available online.” She looked past them to the next customer.
“Yes, but this would have been in the late seventies.”
“Oh. If it’s that old, it wouldn’t be on the computer. You’ll have to go over to the Fairbanks North Star Borough office, where the old records are stored. They close in thirty minutes, though.” She handed them a flyer listing the addresses of all government offices and turned to the next person in line. “How may I help you?”
They walked into the sunshine. Sam gave a wry smile. “Well, that wasn’t too productive.”
“We’ll try the borough office tomorrow.” Dana felt a certain relief that they hadn’t found anything yet to tie their fathers together. In spite of the frustration of trying to cut through the red tape, she felt comfortable working with Sam. Once they knew the whole story, it would most likely prove either her father or his mother a liar, and things might never feel comfortable between them again.
He yawned. “I need some air. Let’s take a walk.”
“Sounds good to me.”
As they strolled toward their parking spot, they passed a consignment store. A pillow in the window caught Dana’s eye and she stopped.
Sam peered at the jumble of items in the window. “What are you looking at?”
“This needlepoint pillow with the wild rose pattern. It would be perfect in Ursula’s Rose room.” She leaned closer, trying to read the price on the handwritten tag. “I’m going to get it for her, as a thank-you for her hospitality.”
Sam followed her into the store. “I suspect she would say fixing the gate was more than enough thank you.”
Dana picked up the pillow to examine it. “You did that.”
“Are you kidding me? If you hadn’t caught that math error before I cut it, I’d have had to drive to town for another board. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
She laughed. “Why was Ursula so insistent you fix it instead of hiring someone, anyway?”
“Tommy was an amazing handyman, and he taught me a few things, so she tends to overestimate my abilities. Besides, she’s always trying to save my money for me.”
Dana looked up from the pillow. “For you? Do you pay all the maintenance for her?”
“I have to. I’m the landlord.”
“The B and B is yours?”
“Yes. Or at least it will be in twenty-five years when the mortgage is paid off. The place only has six guest rooms, but it brings in enough income to make it worth Ursula’s while and cover the mortgage payments.”
“Sweet. What made you decide to buy an inn, of all things?”
“Self-defense.” Sam gave a low chuckle. “Ursula used to work part-time at a store downtown, but it closed about six years ago. That left her at loose ends, and Ursula with time on her hands is a dangerous thing. I was in Seward one weekend and happened to see the For Sale sign when I drove by. I remember thinking how much energy and organization it would take to run an inn. When I came home, I found Ursula alphabetizing my pantry and decided it was a sign. I bought the place and she runs it.”
He bought an inn to make his foster mother happy. Wow. “It’s a beautiful building, and the guests seemed thrilled to be there.”
“Ursula is a born hostess and a great cook.”
“She certainly is. That caramel French toast we had for breakfast was outstanding.” Dana carried the pillow to the cash register. Once she’d completed the transaction, she smiled at Sam. “I’ll get the address from you and mail it to her. I think she’ll like it.”
“I know she will, but why don’t you just bring it next time you visit?”
If only she could. She felt more welcome there than she had anywhere except her own home, at least until Ursula found out her name. But she wasn’t in Alaska for a vacation. She had two tasks to finish, and then she was going back to Kansas. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. It all depends on Chris.”
“Of course.” The look of disappointment on his face mirrored her own feelings. Or maybe she imagined it.
She tried for a cheerful voice. “So, where are we walking?”
“I know just the place.” He passed a table of assorted footwear and stopped. “What size shoe do you wear?”
“Five and a half. Why?”
Sam reached below the table and picked up a pair of bright yellow rubber boots with black polka dots. “Size six. Close enough.” He took the boots toward the register.
Dana trotted after him. “Why do I need boots?”
“You’ll see.” Sam insisted on paying the ten dollars for the boots, drove to the cabin to pick up Kimmik and then drove out on a road that ended near an old log cabin with a sagging roof.
Sam parked, let Kimmik out, and grabbed a tennis ball from the back of the truck. “We’ll exercise him first, then take our walk.”
“He can’t come with us?”
“It’s better if he doesn’t.” Kimmik barked at Sam to throw the ball. Sam obliged and Kimmik galloped after it, snagging it on the fly and proudly returning it to Sam for another turn. After twenty minutes, the dog was still wagging his tail and begging for more play, even as he panted. Sam poured him a bowl of water and shut him in a wire crate in the shade of the truck.
He handed Dana the boots. “Ready for our walk?”
“I really need boots?”
Sam looked down at her feet. “We wouldn’t want to ruin those pretty pink sneakers.”
True. She hadn’t brought a backup pair. Dana accepted the boots and slipped them on. She probably looked like a duck with these ridiculous yellow feet. Sam pulled on a pair of black boots, making her feel better. He wasn’t just teasing her about her aversion to mud. He pulled a pair of binoculars from his glove compartment.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
They walked past a field of grain. This was the first sign of farming Dana had come across in Alaska. On the other side of the field, a variety of ducks swam on
a shallow pond. “So pretty. What are the ones with the feathers sticking out the backs of their heads?”
“Wood ducks. Come on. I have something to show you, if it’s still there. I’m afraid it might not be, but I think it’s worth checking out.”
The path ran past an old cottonwood. Sam held some branches back so she could push through the brush and follow a narrow and largely overgrown trail beside the creek that fed the pond.
They marched single file along the trail, which was getting fainter and wetter with every step. The mud clutched at their boots, making a squelching sound as they pulled their feet free. Dana stepped on a slick spot and would have fallen if Sam hadn’t caught her arm.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine, but this better be good.”
He looked at the mud caked well up over her ankles. “You want to turn back?”
She weighed the muddy trail against the eager expression on his face. “I’m already muddy. Might as well go on.”
“Good. I only hope it’s there still.” They continued to follow the creek, sometimes wading in the water when the trail became too overgrown to use. Eventually, the creek started to widen. Sam pointed. “See that old beaver dam? What we’re looking for should be just behind that bush. Try to be quiet.”
She tiptoed after Sam, coming closer to the pile of sticks and logs partially damming the creek and creating a calm pool behind it. Something white caught the light behind the bush. A few more steps and she was able to see the black beak and long neck of a swan.
She grasped Sam’s arm in excitement. He smiled at her and handed her the binoculars. Through them, she could see all the details of the white swan resting there. As she watched, a second swan came into view. The nesting swan stood and five fuzzy babies spilled out from underneath her. She stepped into the water and swam closer to the second one until the two of them touched beaks, their curving necks forming a heart. The babies swam behind her, all in a row.
The sheer beauty brought tears to Dana’s eyes. “Aww.” It was a whisper, but the swans must have heard. They looked toward her and one of them herded the babies farther away. Sam took her hand and tugged her back down the path.
