by Bonnie Leon
With a sigh, she set her overnight case on her bureau and then undid the straps on her suitcase. She took out her clothes and placed them in the chest of drawers. She hung her leather flight jacket in the closet and pushed it to the back. She didn’t want to look at it. With her clothes put away, she stashed the suitcase on a shelf in the closet. She put her personal things in the upstairs bathroom and then stashed the overnight bag in the closet beside her suitcase.
Angel lay on the floor beside the bed, her head resting on her feet. She seemed content.
Kate sat on the edge of the bed and opened the drawer to her nightstand. A book on aviation history sat inside. She’d forgotten it was there. As she flipped through the pages, an ache tightened in her chest. It was over—the adventure she’d always dreamed of was behind her. She set the book back in the bureau and closed the drawer.
A knock sounded at her door. “Come in.”
Her mother opened the door. “I left things just as they were.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “I never thought you’d come home.” She sniffed and smiled. “And as much as I love you and want you here, I’m truly sorry. I know this isn’t where you intended to be. And Mike . . . I know you cared deeply for him. Everything must seem awful to you right now, but it will get better. I promise you that.”
It took all Kate had not to break down. She pushed off the bed and moved to her mother. “I’m fine. I like it here.” She swallowed hard. “And Mike died doing what he loved.” She squeezed her mother’s hands. “Everything will work out just as it should.”
Joan smiled and draped an arm over Kate’s shoulders, giving her a gentle hug. “And how is Paul? Is he still working as a doctor?”
“Yes. He loves it.”
“And you? How are you feeling . . . about him?”
Kate didn’t know how to talk about Paul. Her feelings were all mixed up. “I . . . I miss him. But just thinking about him makes me feel like I’m being unfaithful to Mike.”
“You loved them both. And love can’t just be shut off the way you do a spigot.” She smoothed Kate’s hair. “Your heart will heal. Give it time.”
Kate leaned against her mother, thankful to be home. This is what she needed.
“So, you hungry?” Joan asked in a cheerful tone. “Dinner’s ready.”
The following morning, Kate headed into town with her mother to help her with some shopping. It seemed to be a day when everyone was out. She met old friends and neighbors. Everyone greeted her warmly, making her feel welcomed. It almost felt like being home. Until she remembered Anchorage and wondered what Muriel and Albert and Helen might be doing. Her thoughts wandered to Paul. He was probably out on a run, doctoring people in the bush. She’d miss that.
She placed a bag of flour in the shopping cart. When she looked up, she saw Alison’s mother, Lauraine Gibson, staring at her. Kate felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
Mrs. Gibson looked old. Her dark brown hair had gone gray, her skin was sallow, and her cheeks hollow.
Joan approached her. “Lauraine, how nice to see you.”
“It’s been awhile.” Mrs. Gibson’s eyes darted to Kate. “I heard you were back in town.”
Kate couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“I’m sure you must have hated to leave Alaska.”
“It’s nice to be home.”
“Welcome back.” She took a step away and turned to Joan. “You must be ecstatic to have your daughter home. It would be wonderful.” Her voice trailed off.
Kate wanted to say something that would make her feel better, but knew that nothing she had to say would be welcome.
Mrs. Gibson tried, unsuccessfully, to blink away tears. “Well, I better be moving along. William’s waiting for me in the car.” With a stiff nod toward Kate and her mother, she walked away, her steps short and rigid.
Kate stared after her. “Nothing’s changed. She still hates me.”
Joan rested a hand on Kate’s arm. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s still grieving. She’s never been able to get over losing Alison. Poor dear.”
The rest of the shopping trip was ruined. Kate couldn’t get Mrs. Gibson out of her mind. She was thankful when her mother suggested they head home.
Once in the car, Kate said, “Seeing Mrs. Gibson is one of the reasons I left. I can’t believe I ran into her on my first trip to town.”
“Maybe you should talk to the Gibsons. A lot of time has passed. I’m sure she’d welcome a visit from you.”
Kate shook her head. She’d tried once to speak to them. They’d blamed her and told her to never set foot in their house again. “I can’t. They don’t want me there, ever.”
At home, Kate helped unload the groceries, then headed for her room. She needed to be alone.
Her father stopped her at the foot of the stairs. “I ran into Richard today.”
“Oh?”
“He asked if he could stop by and say hello.”
“No. Not yet. I can’t talk to him right now. Not after what I did.”
“You went after a dream,” her mother said.
“Yeah, on the day I was supposed to marry him,” Kate said dryly.
“Oh Katie, I’m sorry. I thought you wouldn’t mind.” Her father pushed his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “I told him it would be all right to come by anytime.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. I’m really sorry. He said he’d be by after supper.”
— 20 —
Kate dried the last dish and set it in the cupboard. “I’ll take care of the rest of this,” she said, glancing around the kitchen.
“You don’t have to do that. You’ve barely gotten home. Consider yourself a guest.” Joan smiled. “At least for the rest of the day.”
“No. I want to.”
“That’s fine, then, but we’ll have plenty for you to do in the days to come. You know how it is this time of year. Apples are ready to be picked, and I can barely keep up with the garden.”
Kate thought she heard a car and her pulse picked up. She glanced out the window, but there was no sign of Richard. She didn’t know what she’d say to him.
Her mother spread a tablecloth on the table and set a vase of dahlias in the center. “You don’t have to see him. A phone call is all it takes.”
“I know, but . . . I’m not sure what I’d say. ‘Don’t come over’?” She grimaced. “And if I make up an excuse, he’ll know. I’ve never been any good at lying.”
“Well, I’m glad for that.” Joan smoothed the tablecloth. “Do what’s best for you.”
“Guess I might as well get it over with.” Kate leaned on the counter. “Why does he want to see me? What I did was pretty awful—leaving on the day we were supposed to get married. If I were him, I wouldn’t speak to me.”
Her mother shrugged. “I guess he still cares about you.”
“I’m not ready to date, especially not Richard.” Kate’s throat tightened as she said, “Mike’s only been gone a few weeks.”
“Richard understands that. I’m sure he’s only interested in renewing your friendship. And because he cares about you, he wants to be helpful. After all, you two have been friends most of your life.” She rested a hand on Kate’s cheek. “Accept the friendship. Good friends are hard to come by.”
Kate nodded. “I guess I better freshen up.”
After pulling on a sweater, Kate stepped onto the porch and sat on a woven patio chair. Angel sat beside her and rested her head in Kate’s lap. She seemed happy here. “How you doing, girl? You like your new home?” Angel nuzzled Kate’s hand, then lay down on the slatted wooden porch.
Kate looked out over the orchards. The sun rested on the tops of the hills and slanted rays washed the farm in gold. A cool breeze rustled the long slender limbs of a weeping willow in the front yard.
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and tapped the heel of one foot. She had no notion what to say to Richard. Maybe he wouldn’t show up. Her stomach rumbled and she wished
she’d eaten more dinner, but she’d been too nervous to eat. The sound of a car carried up from the road and she watched the driveway. No one appeared.
Chickens moved through the yard, clucking and scratching at the ground. One hen had a new clutch of chicks. Like a shadow they moved with her, scrambling beneath her protective wings at the slightest hint of danger. That’s how I need to be—hiding in God’s shadow.
The cow mooed from inside the barn, asking to be milked. Kate’s foot stopped tapping and she unclenched her hands. Everything was as it should be.
She noticed a cloud of dust at the end of the driveway. It must be Richard. A few moments later she spotted his pickup. That’s what she’d seen last, the day she left Yakima—Richard’s pickup speeding down the driveway, furiously kicking up dust and rocks. Tonight he moved more slowly, accompanied by a small swirl of dust.
Kate stood, wiping damp palms on her skirt. Angel moved to the top of the steps and woofed as Richard pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. Suddenly eager to see her old friend, Kate walked across the porch and down to the yard.
Richard climbed out of the car, his blue eyes trained on her. Lifting his hat, he ran a hand through his short-cropped blond hair, he said, “Kate. Good to see you.” He glanced at Angel. “And your dog?”
“This is Angel. My best friend.”
“Well, hello, Angel.” Richard knelt and let the dog approach him. He ran his hand over her heavy coat. “Beautiful dog.”
“She was a gift from a friend.”
He stood and took a step toward Kate, wearing an uneasy smile. For a long moment, they stood at arm’s length, saying nothing. Then Richard’s smile broadened. “What the heck.” He pulled her into a friendly hug, then stepped back and studied her. “You look good.”
“Thanks. So do you.” Kate felt herself relax. They were still friends.
Shaking his head slightly, he said, “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Alaska must have been good to you.” He shifted in embarrassment. “I mean—”
“I know. It’s all right.”
“I’m sorry about what happened.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Sounds like Mike was someone special.”
“He was.” Kate let her gaze roam around the yard and then out to the orchard.
“Figure you’re missing Alaska.”
“A little. I like it here, though. It’s warm, at least during the day.”
“You want to take a walk?”
“Sure.”
They wandered into the orchard, Angel between them. Kate looked up into a tree and took a deep breath. “Smells good.”
“I always thought the air smelled kind of vinegary this time of year.” He reached into the tree and plucked a yellow apple. “Looks like these are ready to pick.”
“Dad has some pickers coming this week.”
“Won’t have any trouble finding enough. There are still a lot of people out of work.” Richard shined up the apple on the front of his shirt, then took a bite. He chewed and his eyes seemed to smile. “Good.”
“The reds and goldens are ready, but the winesaps have a way to go. Hope the cold holds off.”
“It’ll be nice having you around for the harvest celebration this year. Your dad said he’d have it up here and combine it with cider making.”
“That ought to be fun.” Kate’s mind wandered to the fair in Palmer. She had missed it this year.
“Heard they had quite a time down at the Johnstons’ last fall. A few of the fellas from town brought out some hard cider.” He grinned.
“You weren’t there?”
“Nah. I was working up north.” Richard took another bite of his apple. “I’ll be around for it this year, though.” His cheek bulging, he added, “The CCC has me working on a local project.”
“It’ll be nice to work closer to home.”
“Oh yeah. Thanks to President Roosevelt’s work program I’ve got a job. I don’t know what to expect, though.”
“I heard the economy’s supposed to pick up by next year,” Kate said. “I hope I can find a job.”
“It’ll improve. I plan on ringing in 1938 with a celebration of hope. It’s got to be better, right?”
“Maybe,” Kate said with a sigh. “Things seemed better for a while and then the economy took another dive.”
She leaned against the trunk of a tree and gazed back at the house. The lights were on. The sight of it made her feel warm inside. Coming home had been the right decision.
“So, you have plans?”
“Plans?”
“I mean, you going to work for your parents or do something else, maybe work at the cannery or some place in town?”
“I figure, for now, I’ll help out Mom and Dad. After that, I’m thinking I’d like to work in town, maybe at the feed store or one of the shops. I’ve had plenty of experience. That’s what I did in Alaska when I wasn’t flying.”
Richard nodded. “Heard they have great fishing up there. You do any?”
“Not much. I never seemed to have the time.” Kate wanted to apologize to Richard for leaving him so abruptly, but she didn’t know how to begin. And then the words just tumbled out. “I’m sorry for what happened.”
He stared at her, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“I mean about leaving the way I did and then not writing to you for so long. It was wrong of me.”
Richard shrugged. “You had to do what you had to do.” He stepped over the irrigation ditch that ran down the row of trees. “I got over it.” He held out a hand to Kate, helping her cross, and they walked along the open ground between rows.
“You’d never have been happy if you didn’t go. You had to try.”
“Yeah, but I went about it all wrong. And I’m really sorry.”
“It’s in the past now. Forget it.” He glanced down at her. “Sounds like you did real well. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Kate said, but all she could think was that she’d failed—run away . . . again. She felt like a coward.
“Hey, you want to go fishing tomorrow? I found a real sweet spot on the river.”
Kate didn’t know how she felt about spending time with Richard. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “I don’t know. I just got in and I’m pretty tired. Plus Mom and Dad have a lot of work that needs to be done. Besides the apples, there are green beans and corn to be picked and canned. Doesn’t seem right to play while Mom and Dad work.”
“Sure. I understand.”
Even if it hadn’t been such a busy time of year, Kate would have found a way to say no. Spending time with Richard didn’t seem right. “We better get back to the house. It’s getting dark.”
They stopped at his truck. “I gotta head home. It was good to see you.” He turned his gaze toward the house. “We’ve been friends a long time. I’d like to get back to that, if it’s all right with you.”
Kate was surprised at the declaration. Did he mean they should be buddies or something more? “We’ll always be friends,” she said.
He smiled and Kate felt the old comfort she’d once known with him.
“Come by tomorrow. Maybe I can find time to get away . . . for a quick fishing trip.”
“Okay.” He climbed into the cab of the truck and swung the door closed.
Kate stepped back while he started the engine and backed out. He lifted his hat to her and then drove off. She watched until she couldn’t see him anymore, then turned and walked up the yard, feeling more at ease than she had in a long while.
Kate sopped up the last of an egg yolk with her toast and took a bite. Talking around her breakfast, she asked, “So, what’re we going to do today?”
“Your dad’s already out. He’s picking reds.”
Kate watched her mother as she worked around the kitchen. She wore a soft smile. Her mom was happy. It seemed like a long time since Kate had been truly happy. Life had been so confusing, and then when she thought she had it figured out, Mike died.
“I’m glad to see you eating well. You’re too skinny.”
“I’m fine. It’s just that in Alaska I didn’t do much cooking. Here, I’d better be careful or I’ll get fat.”
“I doubt you have to worry about that. You’re always busy and you like work.”
“I do and I want to help, so where do you need me today?”
“I’ve got some carrots that need to come out of the ground before they get woody. And I’d like to can them right away.” Joan looked at her daughter with love in her eyes. “You know, your father would enjoy it if you spent some time with him. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“There’s nothing you want me to do?”
“I just want you to be happy.” Joan dropped a kiss on Kate’s cheek.
Remembering why she was in Yakima, Kate felt a lump tighten in her throat. Happiness felt far away. “Well, I better get out to the orchard.”
Angel trotted alongside Kate as she walked to the work shed. Kate found a canvas bag and slung it over one shoulder, then grabbed a ladder that rested against the side of the building and headed for the orchard.
It didn’t take long to find her father. He was picking from the upper branches of a tree.
“Hey, Dad,” she called up to him. “You need some help?”
He peered down at her through the limbs. “I sure do. I have a couple of guys working the end of the row, but the main crew can’t be here until next week. The reds are ripening in a hurry. And the goldens aren’t far behind.”
“Okay if I pick next to you? That way we can talk.”
“Sure. Let’s get this tree finished and then we can move on to the next.”
Panting, Angel plopped down at the base of the tree. Kate leaned the ladder against the other side and climbed up. “It feels like it’s going to get hot this afternoon. Angel’s already suffering. Afraid she’s not made for this kind of weather.”
