Redwood Bend

by Robyn Carr

  “Silly asses,” Dylan muttered to Katie’s laughter.

  Almost daily, Dylan rode to the top of that hill where his view was sensational and his iPhone reception was excellent. It was a Thursday afternoon; he’d spent some time with Katie in the morning and now was attending to his business. His first call was always to Childress Aviation. And the news was not getting any better.

  “Dylan, buddy, we’ve had charter cancellations, the BBJ leasing company came for their jet and they’re talking about holding us to the lease. That would definitely wipe out petty cash.”

  “We had petty cash?” Dylan asked.

  “By September we’re going to have to shut down the training center—not enough instructors or students to run it. I thought we could limp along for six months, but it doesn’t look like it. By fall we’ll be down to just the fixed base operation—storage, maintenance, fueling and landing facilities. I’m sorry, buddy. We’ll be joining the ranks of many other small airports in this country, gasping for breath.”

  “I’ll be on the road in a couple of hours,” he said when he could find his voice.

  “There’s no hurry, man. There’s nothing you can do here. Come home when you feel like it. I’m sending out résumés—just looking, just in case something pops up. If I get a job offer, I’m going to take it.”

  “Flying job?” Dylan asked.

  “I’ve heard some shipping companies are hiring pilots for freight transport. Multiengine heavies, which, thanks to you and your fancy BBJ, I’m qualified to fly. I might as well throw out my net. It wouldn’t have to be forever, just until we get back on our feet.”

  It was on Dylan’s lips to shout Don’t do it! He knew Lang wanted to live and work in Payne; wanted to raise his family there. So he said, “I know you have your reasons…”

  “Five of ’em,” Lang said.

  “I understand. But you want to live in Montana…”

  “I’m just looking around, D. You can’t carry us all forever, not on just a little airport that gets minimal use. I’ll let you know if I get any promising news.”

  Dylan pressed his thumb and finger into his eyes, trying to ease the ache there. If Lang got a job offer, he’d probably have to move to a larger city, a larger base of operations. He felt like shouting, You’re my only family! You can’t move away! He said, “We probably should have done this a long time ago, when we could have found flying jobs at the same company…”

  “Nah, we had us some good years here and I don’t regret a day of it. With any luck, and we’re due some, you can operate this company on your own. You can still instruct—you’ll get the occasional student. With Stu on maintenance, you’ll have yourself a two-man show. It’s your land, after all.”

  “Only sort of,” he said. It was Adele’s land. They’d paid back what they owed her for the runway and buildings, but she wouldn’t take lease payments on the house or land. And he was her only heir.

  “Your gran will be fine with it, Dylan. Listen, try not to take this personally—it’s a shitty time for businesses like ours. Can’t make a living if you can’t gas up the planes.”

  “I feel responsible. I feel like—”

  “Bugger off,” Lang said. “We knew what we were doing. We did what we wanted to do. We could’ve gone to work for a commercial carrier and been furloughed ten times by now. We had it good, we just didn’t have it forever. I’m not divorcing you, I’m just going to try to get another job.”

  “Carry your cell,” Dylan said unnecessarily. Of course he’d have his cell with him.

  “I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days. Don’t let this gut you, D. It’s just change, it’s not the end of the world. We do what we have to do.”

  “Right,” he said. “Good luck, man.”

  The truth was, Dylan could manage his livelihood just as Lang described, though it would be reasonably modest. But then Dylan, alone, didn’t need much. He just hated cutting all those other people—Lang, instructors, charter pilots—out of the loop because the company fell on hard times. And since he had a chance to try to save it, he had to at least give it a shot. But he was running low on time and Hollywood had a reputation for moving with all the speed of bureaucracy. If Jay didn’t have anything soon, Dylan would have to get back to Montana and try to drum up something to pay the bills. He was open to anything from crop dusting to renting a big truck and turning his airline into a moving company.

  When they signed off, he called Jay Romney. “I hope you have something encouraging to tell me,” Dylan said. “If you don’t, I’m going to have to—”

  “I have excellent news, and thanks for your patience. I have an interested director and a script I optioned last year that I think you’ll love,” he said. “The director is Sean Adams—big name with a lot of juice. He’d like a meeting. Can you meet us at my office on Monday at noon? I’ll have lunch catered in.”

  “I’ll be there,” Dylan said. “And, Jay, until we have something nailed down, not a word to anyone.”

  “Absolutely. Tell me your nearest airport, son,” Jay said. “I’ll have a chartered jet bring you in.”

  Dylan burst out laughing. “Is that right?” Dylan could’ve brokered that deal if he’d been at home. “I’ll get there. I’ll give you my ticket stub and you can reimburse me.”

  How funny was that—apparently there were some business entities that still made use of charters.

  Dylan would fly down. He’d try to make a deal. Because his best friend might be right, it might be time for a change. But just in case Lang didn’t get a flying job right away, Dylan was going to find a way to keep Lang and other employees who were left behind in paychecks. He could sacrifice a few months on a set to get that done.

  He’d have to give himself at least one extra day in L.A. before meeting with Romney and Adams—a day to buy some “meeting clothes” since all he had with him were jeans and boots—pretty roughed-up clothes at that.

  He dialed again. “Gran, hi,” he said. “I’m headed to L.A. to meet with Jay Romney. Are you going to be in L.A.? I’d like to see you.”

  “I’m here for another month, at least,” she said. “Will you stay here?”

  He hesitated. He had a feeling he was going to crave a little time alone. “I…ah…I think I’m going to take a rain check on that, Gran. I’ll get a hotel room. But I definitely want to get together. I’ll call you when I have some kind of schedule. It’ll be easier to plan once I know what Jay has to say and whether he needs more of my time. I’ll be sure to fill you in.”

  “Dylan,” she began. “Are you coming alone?”

  The question almost paralyzed him. The impact of what he was doing hadn’t quite hit him until his grandmother asked. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

  “I see,” she said. “Well, call when you get here. I think we’ll have plenty to talk about.”

  For now he had plenty to think about. He really was leaving this time, and once he left he couldn’t imagine being able to come back. He had a home in another place and no work in this little mountain town. All he had here was the most awesome woman he’d ever met, and no way to stay with her. He wasn’t sure how to tell her that and even considered just running for his life, something he hadn’t hesitated to do when involved with other women.

  He wouldn’t do that to Katie. He’d face her and tell her the truth.

  Early Friday morning he packed up his duffel and settled up with Luke Riordan. Katie usually dropped her boys off at nine so he went to the bar for breakfast. Once she was alone, they’d have their talk. He wasn’t sure whether that would happen on her front porch, on their favorite hilltop or wrapped in each other’s arms in bed. But it was happening this morning.

  “Kind of moody,” Jack observed, refilling his coffee cup.

  “You?”

  “No.” Jack laughed. “You.”

  Dylan thought about it only briefly before he said, “I’m heading out of town this morning.”

  “I know,” Jack said. “Tal
ked to Luke about ten minutes ago.”

  Dylan put down his cup. “Could news travel any faster around here?”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “If you had two bartenders.” Then he grinned.

  “Well, tuck it under, will you? I just found out I have potential work south of here and haven’t told Katie yet. I mean, we’re not serious or anything, but—”

  The phone rang and on his way to answer it, Jack said, “But you’d like to be a gentleman about this?”

  “Exactly,” he confirmed.

  “I bet we’ll see you again,” Jack said.

  “Don’t bet a lot,” Dylan muttered.

  Jack lifted the cordless that sat beside the cash register. “Jack’s,” he said. “Yeah? Is that a fact? Oh, yeah, trust me, she’s close. Well, stay inside, I’ll come right out.” He hung up and looked at Dylan. “Katie says she’s got three bear cubs playing on the new jungle gym and she can’t get the boys to the car.” Dylan shot to his feet. “She can’t see the mother, but I guaran-damn-tee you she’s nearby. Real nearby.”

  And Dylan shot for the door.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you thinking, man? We’ll go in the truck, you don’t want to be riding out there to chat with Mama Bear on a motorcycle. Let me grab my rifle and tell Preacher to mind the store.” And then he turned and walked through the kitchen, leaving Dylan to follow.

  Dylan just stood there for a moment. Then he shot outside and got on his Harley, but he rode it around to the back of the bar and caught Jack just as he was getting into his truck. “I’ll follow you. I can outrun a Mama Bear on this if I have to.”

  “Your funeral,” Jack said.

  “We have bear in Montana, you know. And not these candy-ass bears—we have grizzlies.”

  “I realize that,” Jack said. “I bet you also have a rifle in Montana.”

  “I’m a little under-armed this trip. But I’d rather face a bear than a moose.”

  “I hear bad things about moose.”

  “Who do you think chases them off the runway? Could we move it? Or you’ll be following me.”

  “Don’t worry—I told her to stay inside.” And with that, Jack got in the truck and led the way.

  Ah, just as I thought, Dylan observed silently. He spotted Mama in the bushes, scavenging. And sure enough, three fat cubs were enjoying the jungle gym. When Jack entered the clearing, her back had been to her cubs, digging around in the bushes, maybe for berries. But she turned and stood to her full and intimidating height; she was an enormous black bear. Jack tooted the horn while Dylan positioned his bike to make a run for it. Mama puffed up and made annoyed noises while her triplets ran for the cover of her skirts. Dylan saw Jack pull the rifle out of the rack.

  Jack pressed down on the horn again and both men watched as Mama Bear, not real happy with the situation, disappeared into the brush, her triplets behind her. The men watched as they ambled off as if bored and perturbed. Typical black bear, she was passive and really didn’t want to tango with humans as long as the kids were safe.

  Jack gave the horn a couple more blasts, waiting a full minute and then opened the door, rifle in hand. Dylan moved his bike up beside Jack, but kept it running.

  “She could be two feet on the other side of the big blackberry bushes, but I kind of doubt it. If she felt threatened, she’d get the triplets to a safer playground. I had to shoot a bear once—same deal. She was scavenging while her cub was curious about the building I was doing at the bar. Next thing you know, I’m in a situation…”

  “Those lessons come hard when you’re not raised around ’em,” Dylan said, turning off the bike and raising it on the stand. When he’d been transplanted from the city to the near-wilderness, he knew nothing. Ham, short for Hammond Pierce, the daytime hand, had been a grumpy old coot twenty years ago. He took Dylan under his wing as a matter of survival—if Dylan stupidly got himself killed around the horses, cows or wildlife, Ham would be out of work. Now he was even older, more weathered, crankier, and yet did even more work around the place than he’d done twenty years before.

  Dylan ran up on the porch just as the cabin door opened. Katie looked scared. He’d never seen her with that look.

  “Maybe I’ve been kidding myself about wanting adventure,” she said. “I threw up in the airplane, the bear scared me to death and I bet if I ever got a chance to learn to rock climb, I’d probably fall off and break my neck. Maybe I’m just a city girl who should stick to books and movies for my adventure fix.”

  Ten

  “First of all,” Dylan told Katie and the boys, “you don’t want to run away from a bear—they’ll probably chase you and they’re very fast. If you’re farther away like you were, you can make a lot of noise, like Jack did with the horn. If you’re closer, back away slowly. Bears like this one are usually kind of shy—”

  “She didn’t look shy,” Katie said.

  “That’s because she had to protect her children—you know how that is. But if you don’t threaten the children, she’ll probably go away quietly. The one thing you never want to do is get between the mother and her cubs. And if you find yourself in a really scary situation with a bear, lay facedown on the ground, cover your head and neck with your hands and play dead.”

  Dylan crouched in front of Mitch. “Mitch, if you come face-to-face with a bear, what are you going to do?”

  “Back away slowly.”

  He swiveled. “Andy, if you find yourself between a bear and her cubs and the mama seems angry, what should you do?”

  “Make noise?”

  “That’s if you’re not too close—if you’re kind of close and she seems angry, you lay down—”

  “And play dead!”

  “Right. On your stomach, facedown, cover your head, like this,” he said, demonstrating by lacing his fingers together behind his head. “Now here’s an easy one—if you’re about to go outside but there’s a bear in the yard…?”

  “Stay in,” they answered in unison.

  “Excellent.” He rose to his full height. “And if there’s a bear in your yard but you’re safe in the house…?” he asked, looking at Katie.

  “Noise?”

  “That could work. Not like screaming, like maybe banging a spoon on a tin pan. Something to alert the bear there’s a person around so they just leave. And you have that mace, in case you get right down to it.”

  “They don’t actually like that too much,” Jack said. “I’ve heard of bears getting very angry about that, but if it’s your only option....”

  “Katie, since you’ve had this bear family in the yard, can you remember to go over bear safety rules with the boys often?” Dylan asked. “You’ll probably never see them again, but… Rules for safety. Every day isn’t too often.”

  She got a very queer look on her face before she said, “Of course.” She blinked a couple of times. “Ready to get to summer school, guys?”

  “Let me drop them off,” Jack offered. “I’m headed back to town anyway. I’ll make sure they get checked in. Miss Timm is a bear about that.” Then he laughed at his own joke.

  “Thanks, Jack. Get your backpacks, guys,” she said.

  In less than two minutes the twins were in the truck and Jack was backing out of the clearing. Dylan and Katie were still standing on the porch. When the truck was out of sight, she faced him.

  “So. You’re leaving.”

  “How would you know that?” he asked.

  “Your duffel is on the back of the bike and you have a confused look on your face, like you don’t know the way out.”

  He shook his head. “I can take that duffel off the bike and put you there for one more ride. Anywhere you’d like to go.”

  “Tell me what you came here to tell me,” she said.

  He gently grasped her upper arms to pull her closer. He kneaded her arms and looked into her eyes. “Here’s what’s happening, Katie. I talked to Lang—a couple of our employees have left the company, hopefully for greener pastures because they know we’re
in trouble. Our big plane is gone. Lang is going to send out his résumé—he has a family to think about. I have a company circling the drain and a producer in L.A. who wants to sign me for a movie if he can, a chance for me to bankroll that little Montana airport. I’d rather fly than act, but I’m a businessman—I’ll do what I have to do.”

  “I think that’s admirable,” she said.

  “Movies—they’re not exactly forty-hour weeks,” he said. “It’s a major commitment, for months. It won’t be quick. There won’t be time off. And for me, who has been out of the business for twenty years…well, I have a lot of catching up to do if I’m going to do a decent job.”