Pathways (9780307822208)

by Bergren, Lisa T.

  He glanced at her. She could tell he was trying to cover his surprise at her asking about them. “Yes. At the hotel. Bret’s still napping a lot, and Matthew is a whirlwind, always on the go. We try to give him a little space.” There was an element of pride in his voice, and Bryn felt a flash of grief for allowing her own pain to keep them all separated. Her father deserved happiness. They all did. Life was too short to hold on to anger and bitterness and sorrow over what once was.

  “I’d like to see them. While I’m here.”

  Peter smiled tentatively. “I’m glad to hear that, Bryn.” He stopped and turned her to him. “I’ve missed you, honey.” They embraced for a short moment and then resumed walking, each wiping tears from their eyes. “So you’re back in Alaska,” he said, changing the subject.

  “You know me. You started that whole five-year-cycle thing. Life just doesn’t seem right until I hit that fifth year and go again.”

  “You likin’ it? Working up there, I mean?”

  “Oh, Dad. It’s so good to be back.”

  “Got a card from Ben. Told me your fireplace is still standing. I’ll have to get up there soon and see it.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. “Maybe you could bring Ashley and the boys. Let them see a little of your history, our history.” She ignored his misstep at her words, his hesitation as she broke free and walked toward the baggage carousel, which spun around but had no bags to deliver yet.

  “I thought,” he said, joining her and staring at the empty silver slats before them, folding and opening as they rounded the corner, “I thought you wouldn’t want Ashley there.”

  Bryn turned to face her father. “Dad, it hurt when you left Mom.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry, Bryn—”

  “No,” she said. “It’s okay. Something’s changed for me, Dad. Something big. I think I’m finally ready to forgive you. And Mom. To gather up my family, however ragtag they may be, and take what I can get. Grampa always said that life’s too short. I think I’m finally inclined to agree. Let’s move on, Dad. Not forget about the past. I think we can learn from it. But let’s move on.”

  He stared at her then, and Bryn noticed the gray at his temples, the slightly receding hairline. He was still handsome, and the joy that sparkled in his eyes after hearing her words made him practically glow. It was so good to see him again. What had taken her so long? “I love you, Dad,” she whispered.

  Peter pulled her back into his arms, kissed her temple tenderly. “I love you too, Bryn Bear.”

  After the funeral and reception at the house, Bryn went to a coffeehouse with her cousin Trevor and his wife, Julia, and her old college roommate, Christina Alvarez—now a nautical archaeologist—to catch up. The Kenbridges had let Christina know about Bryn’s grandfather’s death.

  “It means so much that you came, Christina,” Bryn said, looking over at the beautiful Spanish-descent brunette across the table. “I was so surprised to look up and see you there. It’s been, what—two, three years?” The two had corresponded off and on since college but rarely had the chance to see each other. Between residency demands and Christina’s world travels in her own graduate work, they were hardly ever in the same place at the same time.

  “Three,” Christina said with a smile. “And I was honored to be there. Your grandparents were good to me in college. I’ll never forget those Sunday night dinners at the big house. Ham, pot roast, turkey …”

  Bryn smiled and stared at her coffee, which she had been stirring for a solid minute. With slow movements, she removed her spoon and set it beside the huge cup on the matching saucer. It seemed ages since she had sat in a coffeehouse instead of Alice’s café and bar, drinking truck-stop coffee out of chipped white mugs. Or from her own cup at the cabin on the river, or with Eli at Summit.

  “Bryn?” Trevor asked. “You okay?”

  “What? Oh. Yes, fine. Just thinking.”

  Christina and Julia exchanged a knowing glance. “She’s got that look,” Christina said toward Trevor and Julia, still staring at Bryn. “Doesn’t she?”

  “What look?” Trevor asked, knitting his brows and staring hard at his cousin as if she had a disease.

  “The Look,” Julia said, nodding.

  “Who is he?” Christina asked. “Where’d you meet him?”

  “There are twice as many men in Alaska as women,” Julia put in.

  “You’re in love?” Trevor asked, catching up.

  Bryn laughed and shook her head. “Shouldn’t we be talking about Gramps? Reminiscing?”

  “Nah, we’ve done that,” Trevor said. “Gramps would be as interested in this as we are, Cuz. Who is he?”

  Bryn felt heat rise up her neck. She was blushing, for Pete’s sake! “Eli Pierce,” she said, giving in.

  “Eli Pierce?” Trevor repeated.

  “Eli … You mean Summit Lake Eli?” Christina asked, putting old stories together with the new. “Across the lake, the handsome neighbor, Eli?”

  “That’s the one,” Bryn said with a smile.

  “Who’s across-the-lake-handsome-neighbor Eli?” Julia asked.

  Trevor sat back in his chair and smugly crossed his arms. “Just the guy she always claimed she was never in love with.”

  “He’s been our neighbor on Summit forever,” Bryn explained to Julia. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. This year, everything just clicked.”

  “Clicked, huh?” Trevor said, putting an arm around the back of his new wife’s chair.

  “Clicked,” Bryn agreed.

  “So are we losing you to Alaska forever?” Julia asked.

  Her question caught Bryn by surprise. She thought about the letter from Boston Memorial still unanswered on her dresser in Talkeetna. She had been so taken up with Eli, with this love they were discovering, that she hadn’t stopped to consider what autumn would bring. She’d wanted to savor each day, remember each moment, enjoy the present and let the future work itself out. And yet he hadn’t exactly proposed to her yet.

  “Uncle Peter said you got a great job offer from Boston Memorial. If I know you, there are ten more hospitals out there ready to hire you.”

  “There are probably hospitals in Alaska,” Julia said wryly.

  “But,” Christina broke in, “you’ve worked so hard.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Bryn said, considering Christina’s intimation that accepting a job in Alaska would be the equivalent of throwing in the towel. She took a long, slow sip of coffee. She had worked hard to be at the top of her class, shine above all others to get the prime job offers after residency. Was she willing to throw away all those years of sleepless nights spent studying or at the hospital for a minimum-salary, minimum-prestige job in Alaska?

  “Love is worth a lot, Cousin,” Trevor said gently.

  “It is,” Julia concurred, taking his hand. They had been a mismatched pair from the start, from different worlds—Julia the heiress who wanted a home, Trevor the traveler. But they were so right for each other. They were so together.

  “I don’t know,” Christina put in. “She could be making over a hundred thousand next year. Does it make sense to throw all that away?”

  “Love doesn’t come knockin’ very often,” Trevor said.

  “I just broke up with a boyfriend who wanted me home every night,” Christina said. “I love my work. To cut that off would be like cutting off a part of me. What if Housecalls goes under? Where would you work then? And I know you. You don’t need just any job. You need a job that stimulates your mind, challenges you.”

  “Housecalls has done that for me.”

  “For a summer. What are they paying you?”

  “Room and board. My loans,” she said, holding up a hand to her friend’s unspoken question, “are on deferment for a few months.” She looked around the table sheepishly. “Guess I ought to figure out what I think about it, what my options are, huh?”

  “If you’re serious about this guy,” Julia said.

  “I
f you want to stay in Alaska,” Christina said.

  “Bryn,” Trevor said, taking her hand and waiting until she looked at him. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “If this is love, don’t let it go. You’ve cared for Eli for a very long time. If something magical is happening, don’t walk away. I did, once,” he said, staring at Julia. “And I had to turn back around and break up a wedding to make things right. Don’t get yourself into a bigger bind just because it might be hard to make things work. If God is in this, he’ll see you through, make a path. Loans and all,” Trevor added assuredly.

  “You think?” Bryn asked, knowing the answer, just needing to hear it again from someone she knew and respected and loved.

  “I know.”

  “I know this is it,” Eli said, pacing in Ben’s house. “This is the real thing, Ben.” He looked out toward the other end of Summit, where he’d left three tourists to fish at the river.

  “The question is, what are you going to do about it?” The older man stared at his radar screen, trying to pinpoint the marauding bear’s position. The young male would have to be moved far outside any populated area.

  “I’m going to marry her.”

  That brought Ben around, his eyes sparkling with delight. “You think that girl will marry a lout like you?”

  “I hope so.” He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. “I’m in love, Ben. Worse than ever before. Having her all the way in Boston—it’s about to kill me.”

  “She’ll be back soon.”

  “Think I ought to have gone with her? Been there to support her?”

  “It happened so fast. You’ve got a business to run, and she could get a bereavement ticket. Yours would’ve cost at least a thousand.”

  Eli stared out at the lake. The river wasn’t the best fishing around, but it had given him the excuse to come and see Ben. And the scenery was spectacular. Hopefully his clients would catch a decent load and deem the entire outing worthwhile.

  “Why hasn’t she called?” he asked for the hundredth time, as much to himself as Ben.

  “She’s busy with the memorial service, taking care of her family, catching up with long-lost relatives and friends that she doesn’t see unless somebody gets married or dies.”

  Eli sighed and nodded, crossing his arms. “I just feel so helpless, having her out there. Outside, I mean.”

  Ben rose and stood by the picture window with him. There was a strong wind, sending foot-tall swells down the lake toward them. Ben put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Eli, if you can’t trust her to go to the Lower 48 and return, either you’re not ready to marry her or she’s the wrong one for you. Unless, that is, you’re ready to move where she goes.”

  Eli winced, pulled his head sideways. “Can’t imagine that. My business—”

  “She’s a doctor now. Where is she going to get work up here?”

  “Housecalls might hire her on. Talkeetna has a clinic.”

  “Doesn’t pay much. Doctors these days head out of school owing more money for their education than it takes to buy a house. Especially those Ivy League-educated docs. Besides, Talkeetna has the doctors they need on staff, I’d wager.”

  “Willow, then. Anchorage!” he said, getting irritated. Did Ben not want things to work out between them?

  “Just want you to be thinkin’ realistically,” Ben said, dropping his hand. “Got your head up there in the clouds. With your mom and dad Outside on their RV expedition, I’m thinkin’ I’m your only voice of reason. Me and the Man upstairs.”

  “I thought you said God would work it out.”

  “He will. I’m just thinking there’re more places to live than here—for the right woman.”

  Eli let his forehead bump up against the cool windowpane. He didn’t want to think about reality. He and Bryn had just discovered each other, allowed themselves to revel in newfound love. Couldn’t they just enjoy that for a while? Wasn’t it enough to think of marriage itself? Couldn’t their happily-ever-after come later?

  What if she did decide to take that job in Boston? Could he really leave to be with her?

  Bryn said good-bye to her coffeehouse companions and walked through the park, watching lovers in the swan boats and wondering about Eli. It was sweltering hot, and Bryn found herself longing for the cool, refreshing northern summer air of Alaska, to be out of the crowds, walking on trails that maybe only two or three others walked along over a given summer. She longed for a friendly hello from a passerby, a look that said she had been seen, not merely taken in with the rest of the landscape.

  “Lord, a little direction, here,” she whispered skyward. She wiped her temples and upper lip of sweat and then opened the huge phone book, looking for Boston Memorial’s number. What was the name on that letter? “Make it clear, Father,” she said. “Show me what I should do.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Bryn consciously dropped her hands to her sides and let them swing, as if she was feeling comfortable, relaxed, instead of all tied up in knots inside. She was nervous—nervous!—about seeing Eli again. She turned the corner in the Jetway, and a bit of the Anchorage terminal came into view. And then she saw him, carrying a bouquet of roses and grinning as if she were the Chugach Mountain Range on a lovely Sunday afternoon.

  She hurried to him, feeling shy, wondering what it would be like to hug him again, but when he swept her into his arms and gave her a long kiss, she knew her nervousness had been foolish. He loved her, would always love her. He ran his hands over her hair and down her back and kissed her again, his lips soft and welcoming, his scent of cinnamon and wood smoke washing over her.

  This was home. This place, under the curve of Eli’s chest and arm, walking side by side, feeling all warm inside, smiling at each other as if they had just been given the grand prize from Readers Digest Bryn’s chest felt tight with glee at the realization that she was in love, truly in love, and that Eli was in love with her too.

  “It’s good to have you back, Doc,” Eli said, staring at her tenderly.

  “It’s good to be back.”

  “Tell me about your trip. How’re you doing? Your dad?” They began making their way to baggage claim.

  “ ‘Fair to middling,’ as Grampa Bruce would’ve said. I get teary thinking I won’t see him again for a long time. I’m going to miss him! But I’m glad he’s reunited with Gramma in heaven. They were so in love. So it’s good, too. All my life, I’ve wanted a marriage like theirs.”

  Eli pulled her close again. “It’s good to see that marriage vows can last until death, isn’t it?”

  “Uh-huh. And my dad’s doing pretty well. I spent a little time with him and Ashley and the kids. It was all right. There was something about going back, seeing him, something about Grampa’s passing. I just finally realized that I was punishing him for making a new life without me. For finding happiness with his new family when we could never seem to get it together ourselves. It was just as much my fault as his that we haven’t been close. Got to see my baby brothers—they’re very cute. And somehow, it was all okay.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Bryn. Everyone needs their dad.”

  “Yeah. After my last summer in Alaska, I thought I could make it on my own, look to God as my heavenly Father. Get what I needed from him. But Dad’s still alive, and, well, I had to forgive him. For myself as much as for him.”

  Eli nodded. She glanced into his warm hazel eyes and then away, tucking her hands into her jeans pockets. Talking about this felt good, but it also made her feel vulnerable. “We’ll never have that lovey-dovey, father-daughter relationship that everyone always talks about. But I think that’s okay. My dad is a good man. I’m just now remembering that.”

  “And seeing him the way our heavenly Father does,” Eli added. “With a measure of grace.”

  “He got a charge out of finding out you and I were … together,” Bryn said, feeling shy again. She stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss.


  “I bet he did,” Eli said. “There’s your bag.” He lifted the heavy case off the conveyor belt with ease, and the two headed out to the open-air parking lot. A thick cloud bank covered Anchorage that day, making it seem later in the day than it was.

  Eli opened the truck door for her and put her bag in the back. He hopped in and pulled her to him for a long, searching kiss. “I missed you, woman,” he growled, kissing her again.

  She giggled and put her arms around his neck. “I missed you too, Eli.”

  “Don’t go away again.”

  “I won’t. For a while, at least.” The two eyed each other, aware that the summer was rapidly coming to a close. She only had three weeks left on her Housecalls commitment. What then? Eli turned away and cranked the key in the ignition, obviously not ready to talk about it yet.

  “Mind if we stop at Housecalls? It’s just a mile from here,” she said.

  Eli didn’t like the way Dr. Carmine Kostas’s eyes lingered over Bryn, the way he perused Eli like a thrift-store aisle with no decent goods. The doctor was plainly interested in Bryn and disappointed she had arrived home accompanied by a man. Last summer Eli and Carmine had hit it off. This summer they were in opposite corners like two prizefighters, separated by Bryn, the referee. Eli supposed he’d have to get used to other men being interested in his girlfriend. Bryn Bailey was a knockout and smart to boot. A guy would have to be from another planet not to look twice in her direction.

  A drenching rain began as they sat in Carmine’s office, each drop pummeling the old warehouse roof as if knocking to get in. Carmine looked in Bryn’s direction mostly, solicitous in his care in asking after her family. Once they had caught up, he turned to a series of maps behind him and flipped to the one that covered Bryn’s Housecalls territory.

  “I’m assuming you’re ready to get back to work.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Good. We had a couple of calls. Sent one emergency helicopter into a McKinley base camp with climbers suffering from altitude sickness. There might be a few more calls like that if the Park Service can’t handle it themselves. They only call us when they’re maxed out elsewhere, like yesterday when they were battling a western flank fire. Now with rain like this, I wouldn’t expect them to need us for a while. Yet with the season coming to a close, there will be more climbers attempting the ascent. Be prepared.”