by Bonnie Leon
“Watch the nose on the horizon and see how it moves. How do the wings look? Are they level?”
“Mostly level.”
“Which one is down?”
“The right wing is lower.”
“Move the control wheel to the left a bit. See if you can find level.”
Kate waited. She opened her eyes and the spinning intensified, so she closed them again. “You got it?”
“Yeah. I think we’re fine.” There was a trace of tension in Paul’s voice.
“Paul, I can hear the engine slowing down. Push the control wheel forward . . . gently. Okay, that sounds better.” She licked dry lips. “We’ve got to find a place to put down. I’m pretty sure there’s an open field coming up that should work.”
“There’s lots of farmland, but there are fences.”
“No. Look farther out. I’m sure there’s a big enough field.”
“Yeah. I can see it—looks like four or five miles ahead.”
“Okay. Good.” Kate held her emotions in check, barely hanging on to calm. “Now, use the rudder in gentle increments to point us toward the field.”
“Gotcha.”
“You’ve flown in this bird a lot. You probably know more than you think. You’re going to do fine.”
“Darn right.”
Kate was calmed by the humor in his voice. “How’s it feel to you?”
“Not bad. I’m starting to get the hang of this. Actually, Mike let me fly his bird a couple of times.”
Bless you, Mike. “Have a look at the altimeter. What’s our altitude?”
“Two thousand feet.”
“We’ve climbed a smidge, but that’s all right. Keep bringing us down. Remember small increments. And pull the power back another notch.”
She listened to the sound of the engine. Paul was doing well. Kate managed a smile and dared to look at him. “You having fun?”
“Yeah. I can do this.”
“I know you’re up to it, but stay focused. And remember, this bird wants to fly.”
“Got it.”
“Keep making those rudder corrections to keep turning us toward the field. Reduce the power a bit so we can start a gentle descent. We want the nose a bit lower. But don’t shove it down. Remember, gentle. Wings level?” She felt the correction, but he was a little heavy on the controls. “I’m going to use a bit of trim. If you’re ready, glance at the airspeed and now back to the nose.”
“Looks good,” Paul said.
“All right. Let me know when you have the field lined up. I want to be at eight hundred feet when we’re about four miles out.”
“We’re there, but my altitude is too high.”
“What is it?”
“A thousand feet.”
“That’s okay. Keep bringing us down. Remember, small increments.”
The spinning suddenly intensified, and Kate grabbed hold of the side of her seat for stability. She tasted the bitterness of bile and tried to swallow it away. “We don’t want to go too slow or this bird will decide to quit flying. Keep the nose slightly down.”
Kate opened her eyes to see if the spinning might have slowed. It hadn’t. “Okay, here’s the toughy. Once we get close to the ground, say fifteen feet, you’ll gradually pull back on the control wheel, but not too fast. Things will seem to be happening faster as we get close to the ground. I need you to talk to me. We’ll work as a team.”
A few minutes passed in silence. She heard Angel whine. “What’s happening? Where are we?” Kate asked.
“The ground’s coming up fast,” Paul said, his voice tense. “The left wing is down.”
“Move the control wheel to the right gently and throttle back.” Kate’s grip on the seat tightened. “And pull back on the wheel.”
“The ground’s right below us. We’re almost down.” Paul’s voice had taken on a strident tone.
The bird bounced up and back down hard, careening when they made contact and wobbling back and forth.
“We’re veering right!”
Kate tried to see and then she felt the plane slow down, its weight on all three wheels. It lost speed too rapidly. She could feel the tail coming up and leaning to the right. The prop dug into the ground and the Pacemaker hesitated and wavered, then came to a stop balanced on the prop and the right wing.
“Out! Out!” Kate cried. “There could be a fire.” Trying to hurry in her spinning world, she felt Paul’s hand on her arm. “Where’s Angel?”
“She’s right here,” Paul said as he helped Kate climb out of the seat and guided her toward the back of the plane. Barely able to see, and certain that at any moment she’d lose her breakfast, Kate managed to scramble out.
Paul kept an arm around her waist and steered her clear of the plane. When he stopped, he shouted, “We did it!”
Kate sat on the ground, pressing her hands on the grass, searching for something solid and still, but the world continued to spin. She closed her eyes and felt Angel nuzzle her. She grabbed the dog around the neck. “We did it, girl.” Releasing the dog, she tried to look around but could barely make out anything in the whirling world. “Now, we’ve got to find our way out of here.” Normally that wouldn’t be too difficult in this part of the country, but Kate still couldn’t distinguish up from down, and any movement made the spinning worse. She couldn’t remember ever being so ill.
Paul sat beside her. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible. But glad to be alive.” She smiled and leaned against him. “Thanks.”
“Thank you. Can you call Jack and have him fly someone out to get us?”
“Sure.”
Kate looked up at the sky. Blue and white swirled. “I nearly killed us.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t have any control over what happened.”
“I did. I had some dizziness before we left today and pressure in my ears. I knew better. When my cold got bad, I never should have flown. It was stupid of me.” And then she knew an awful truth. She was done with flying.
“I’m never flying again. Not ever. I’m through.”
— 18 —
Kate had said her good-byes. She didn’t want to say them again, but Muriel and her parents had insisted on seeing her off at the train station.
Albert pulled the car into a parking spot, and Kate’s gaze traveled to a passenger train sitting in front of the depot. Was that the one she’d take to Seward?
The reality that she was leaving Alaska suddenly hit her. She’d been sick in bed for a week, but had stuck to the decision she’d made the day Paul landed her plane. It was time for her to go home.
Muriel had been struggling to hold in her tears. She stroked her son’s downy hair and sniffled into a handkerchief.
Running her hand over Angel’s neck, Kate pulled the dog close and fought to control her own emotions. She was tired of tears. She stepped out of the car, leading Angel out on a leash. People milled about, and Kate wondered where they were going and why.
Albert opened the trunk and lifted out Kate’s bag. “You travel light.”
She shrugged. “I don’t have a lot, never needed much.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d better see about getting Angel and my bag checked in.” She reached for the suitcase.
“I’ve got it.” Albert headed toward the terminal. Kate followed.
It took only a few minutes to purchase a ticket and check in. When Kate led Angel into the crate that would carry her all the way to Seattle, she wondered if she’d made the right decision in bringing her. The trip would be long and the weather in Yakima might be hard on a heavy-coated dog. She’d considered leaving her, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knelt and stroked her friend through wood slats. “I’m sorry, girl. But we’ll be home before you know it.” She forced herself to stand and walk away.
The train in front of the station wasn’t Kate’s. It was headed north. Steam billowed around the engine as it moved away from the terminal. Kate placed her ticket in her purse and stepped out of the
depot and into the cool autumn air. She stood on the wooden platform and gazed down the tracks.
“So you’re all set, then?” Helen asked, her eyes glistening.
“I am.”
“Are you sure that overnight case is all you’re going to need until you get on the ship?”
“It’s adequate.” Kate held up the case. “Angel and I ought to be settled on the ship by this evening.”
Helen handed Kate a basket. “I made you a little something to eat along the way. You’ll likely be hungry before you get to Seward.”
“Thank you.” Kate couldn’t imagine being hungry. Her stomach churned and ached. Fresh tears threatened at the thought of Helen’s kindness.
Muriel and Helen sat on a bench with Kate between them. Muriel bounced her little boy on her lap. Albert stood, leaning against a railing.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” Muriel said. “You’re certain I can’t persuade you to stay?”
Kate stared at her hands clasped in her lap. “It’s time for me to go home, where I belong. Nothing in life is meant to last forever.” She took Muriel’s hand and squeezed it. “I’ll write. And who says we can’t visit on the telephone now and then? Maybe you can come for a visit. I’d love to show you the Yakima Valley. It’s a beautiful place, but very different from here.”
Muriel hugged Kate, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
The whistle of a train reverberated from the hills above the station. “That must be your train,” Albert said, leaning over the railing and looking up the line.
The train hissed and rumbled its way into the station, then chugged to a stop, steam swirling around the platform. Kate stood, holding the basket of food against her abdomen. This was it. The moment she’d dreaded—the final good-bye. “I guess it’s time.”
She looked back at the terminal and then at the bay that stretched toward the horizon. She’d miss Alaska. Did she belong here?
Passengers disembarked and then a man walked alongside the train and called, “Board! All aboard!”
“Oh, it’s time.” Helen’s hands played with a large button on her coat. “I’ll keep praying for you, dear.” She pulled Kate into her arms. “The Lord knows the path for you. He’ll show you the way.”
“He already has.” Kate smiled while trying to keep her tears in check. She held on to Helen. “Thank you for being such a dear friend. You’ve been like a mother to me. I don’t know how I would have managed without you.” She stepped back. “I’ll miss you terribly.” Trying to lighten the mood, she added, “And your cookies.”
“I included some of the recipes. They’re in the basket.” She smiled. “Now with an adequate kitchen you’ll have a chance to try baking some of them.”
“My mom and I can do it together.” She turned to Albert and hugged him. “Thanks for everything.” She kissed his cheek. “I hope you and Helen will come and visit.”
His eyes shimmering, Albert said, “We’ll do our best.”
A blast resounded from the train. Kate watched a cart go by piled with luggage and Angel’s crate. The sight of her caged up was disturbing. Kate wished there were some other way to get Angel to Yakima. Even as she considered the idea, she knew there was—they could have flown. But just the idea made her stomach churn.
Muriel was crying openly now. She wiped at her tears with one hand while cuddling her son with the other. “Oh, I’m going to miss you.”
Kate dropped a kiss on the baby’s head and rested her cheek there for a moment. “You’re a lucky little boy. You have the best mama in the world.” She smiled at Muriel. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”
Muriel’s eyes filled with new tears and her chin trembled. She nodded, then hugged Kate with her free arm. “What am I going to do without you?”
“You’ll be so busy you won’t even know I’m gone.”
“That’s not true. You come back, okay?”
Kate hugged her more tightly. “We’ll see. Maybe.” She had no intention of ever returning. Alaska was behind her now. She had a new path to walk.
“You won’t be able to stay away. You’re an Alaskan.”
“No. I’m not.”
“You are. I know it.”
“I know what . . .” Her sentence dragged off. Paul walked toward her, his hands tucked into his coat pockets. She’d never expected him to show up.
Muriel turned to see what Kate was staring at. “Oh, my goodness. What’s he doing here?” She sounded annoyed. “Mike’s funeral was only weeks ago.”
Helen took Muriel’s arm and led her away. Kate watched Paul, wondering why he was here. His expression seemed pained.
“I heard you were leaving. I couldn’t let you go without saying good-bye.”
“I planned a trip out to the creek, but it just never happened. I don’t fly anymore, so getting out there . . . well, it’s not so easy without a plane.”
Paul glanced at the train. Passengers were boarding. “I wanted to tell you good luck and that . . . well, that I’ll miss you.”
“Will you still work as a doctor?”
“Yeah. I’m needed, and I’m sure I’ll be able to find flights. But without you it’ll be more difficult . . . and not nearly as much fun.” He took his hands out of his pockets and acted as if he were going to touch her, then he pushed them back into hiding. “I hope you’ll return someday. It would be good to fly with you again.”
Kate focused on the basket instead of him. “Like I said, I don’t fly anymore.” She was afraid, terrified in fact. She managed to look at him and, with as much conviction as she could muster, said, “It’s time for me to return to a reasonable life. Settle down.” She tossed her hair off her forehead. “That’ll make my mom happy.”
“How ’bout you?”
“Me too.” Even Kate could hear the forgery in her statement.
He nodded. “If you change your mind, I’ll be here and I’ll always be happy to fly with you.” He gently grasped her arm. “Kate, maybe it’s too soon . . . maybe you should wait awhile before making this big a decision.”
Kate looked at his hand. “No. I’ve made up my mind. It’s the right thing for me to do.” She glanced at the train. She needed to board. “Jack’s going to sell my plane.”
Paul nodded, watching the boarding passengers.
“Make sure to say good-bye to Sassa and Patrick and the boys. And Lily too. I suppose she’ll be staying close to home . . . what with the baby and all.”
“Yeah. I’ll be close by though, if she needs me.”
Kate’s heart winced. Did he mean as a doctor or something more? “I’m sure she’s counting on you.”
A blast from the train alerted passengers of its imminent departure.
“I have to go.” She gave Paul what she meant to be a quick hug, but he held on to her. Finally, she stepped back. “I’ll write.”
“I’ll watch for your letters.” He smiled, but there was no light in his eyes. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.” Kate moved toward the train.
Muriel ran to her and gave her one more hug. Albert waved and Helen blew a kiss. “Bye, dear. I’ll be praying,” she called.
Kate climbed the steps, stopping at the top. Paul was still watching her. The ache she felt was so intense it was as if someone had buried a knife in her heart. With all that had happened, she still cared for him. Shame engulfed her. Mike had been gone less than a month.
She turned and stepped inside, making her way down the aisle of the car. She found a seat near the back and had barely managed to sit down when the train jerked forward and headed out of the station.
The terminal was on the opposite side of the train, so she looked out at Cook Inlet. Tears washed into her eyes and she dabbed them away. New ones replaced them. Through a blur, she stared at the bay, not really seeing it. She rested her cheek against the window. It was cold.
She was cold.
Paul watched until the train disappeared, a heavy sadness enveloping him. He’
d chosen to live without her, but she’d always seemed close because he’d see her often. Now, she was truly gone, and life wouldn’t be the same. He should have tried to stop her.
Albert and Helen approached him. “Paul, we didn’t know you were in town,” Helen said kindly.
“I had some things to take care of and decided I’d come down and say good-bye . . . since I was here.” He didn’t want them to know the truth, that his entire reason for coming into town was to see Kate. His throat tightened. “Didn’t think she’d actually leave. She loves Alaska.”
“Maybe she’ll move back one day,” Helen said. “I hope so.”
“So, how’s Sassa and Patrick?” Albert asked.
“Fine. Busy, though. You know how it can be this time of year, getting in the last of the produce and preparing for winter.”
Albert nodded. “I suppose they’re especially concerned, what with Lily . . . well, with Lily being in the family way.”
Helen shot him a “shut your mouth” look. “What he means is they’d be extra worried with winter coming on and them being so far from a hospital.”
“Well, they’ve got a doctor right next door,” Paul said, irritated that Lily and her condition had come up. It wasn’t something people ought to be talking about. With Lily not being married, it felt like gossip.
“Well, of course,” Helen stuttered. “That must be reassuring.”
Silence wedged itself between Paul and the Towns.
In an obvious attempt to change the subject, Helen said, “Fall is a beautiful time of year.”
“It is.” He tipped his hat. “Well, I better get a move on if I want to get home before dark.”
“It was nice to see you,” Albert said. “We’ll watch for you, sometime next month?”
“I’ll be in before winter.”
Helen laid a hand on his arm. “And please tell Sassa we’ll be praying for her . . . and the family.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Paul had barely docked the boat when Douglas, Patrick’s oldest boy, scampered down the trail to meet him. “Hi. You have a good trip?”
