by Edie Claire
She was lonely, and she was annoyed that she was lonely. What self-sufficient human being couldn’t spend one full day by herself without falling into a funk? Her introverted sister, Ri, could live alone on a boat for a month and be happy, but Mei Lin had always been a social creature. She had never thought of her extroversion as a weakness, and she didn’t want to now. She had enough weaknesses to deal with already.
She slept fitfully that night, dreaming of mixed-up pills, a nurse aide in handcuffs, and a wound on an old man’s leg that wouldn’t stop oozing. She awoke Monday morning still restless, and as soon as regular business hours began, she hopped in Elsie’s Subaru and drove straight to the medical clinic. There was nothing she could do about her first two nightmares, but she could certainly address the third.
The parking lot of the facility was nearly full, which wasn’t surprising for a Monday morning. She parked at the far end of the lot and hurried in, shamelessly hoping to find enough chaos to justify an offer of assistance. She wanted something useful to do — preferably in the company of other humans. But when she opened the door, she found the small waiting room perfectly in order, with a few adults sitting and staring at their phones while two children played at the Lego table. “Hello, Mei Lin. What brings you here today?” the receptionist asked.
Lilly Rogers was a local girl a few years out of high school. She had no medical training that Mei Lin knew of, but she did help the nurse practitioner with various office tasks. Right now she was simultaneously greeting newcomers, holding the phone to her ear, and installing a new toner cartridge in the printer. “I just wanted to talk to Sandra briefly,” Mei Lin explained, feeling petty for wishing the girl was a little less competent. “It’s about another patient of hers that I ran into over the weekend.”
“Sure thing,” Lilly said cheerfully. “You can go on back now if you want to. She’s in the lab.”
Mei Lin slipped behind the desk and around the corner to find the nurse practitioner dipping a test stick into a urine sample.
“Hello, Mei Lin,” she greeted. Sandra Gruber was somewhere around sixty, had spent over twenty years working for the army, and appeared impossible to shock, offend, or surprise. She handled any and all afflictions and emergencies with brisk efficiency and imperturbable calm, and Mei Lin was in awe of both her competence and her confidence. Unfortunately, Sandra also intimidated the hell out of her. “Something I can do for you?”
“I have some information for you, actually,” Mei Lin replied. She talked fast, since she knew the other woman’s time was valuable. She explained that she had run into Stanley Smith in the GusMart on Saturday and then described the condition of his wound. “I just wanted to make sure he hasn’t skipped any follow-up appointment he might have had with you.”
Sandra shook her head as she read the test stick and wrote some notes in a chart. “He hasn’t followed up because he never came to me in the first place. He isn’t my patient.”
Mei Lin sucked in a breath. Sandra had been running the clinic for over a decade; she knew all the residents of Gustavus. There was no point asking if she’d made a mistake.
“I’ve heard of him,” the nurse practitioner elaborated. “But he’s never come in.”
“I wonder who stitched him up, then. Do you suppose he was treated in Juneau or somewhere?”
Sandra gave a shrug. “Could be. Could also be that he stitched himself up.”
Mei Lin tried not to look horrified. “People do that?”
“Sure. A suture kit is standard first aid in the backcountry.”
An image of the injured leg loomed large in Mei Lin’s mind. “It’s just that the stitches were so even,” she muttered. “I was sure a professional had done it.”
“You think it was infected?”
Mei Lin hesitated. Once upon a time, she hadn’t second-guessed her every professional impression and decision. But once upon a time was before Texas. “I didn’t get as close a look as I would have liked,” she hedged. “But my suspicion is that if he isn’t on antibiotics, then he should be, and soon.”
Sandra frowned. “That doesn’t sound good. Still, if he isn’t asking to be treated, we can’t force the man.”
Mei Lin’s pulse quickened. She had seen infected wounds before. Even with prompt treatment, they could be extremely painful. Without treatment they could lead to sepsis, which could be fatal, particularly in the elderly. “If he’s hoping he’ll get better on his own, and he doesn’t, he won’t be able to ask for help. He won’t be able to walk that far.”
“You may be right about that,” the nurse practitioner conceded. “Why don’t you give the Torpins a call? I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t mind going up and checking on him.”
Mei Lin relaxed a little. “Good idea. I’ll do that.”
“Hang on.” The nurse practitioner walked to a nearby shelf, counted out some capsules, and sealed them in a paper envelope. “Take these to Jesse,” she ordered, writing down some instructions and then handing the packet to Mei Lin. “I don’t know Stanley Smith, but I’ve known plenty like him, and I can tell you right now there’s a good chance he won’t agree to come to me for treatment, even if he’s on his deathbed. I’ll go up to him if he’ll have me, but if he won’t, tell Jesse to leave these. It may be all we can do.”
Mei Lin studied the other woman’s stern face with appreciation. Prescribing medication to a patient you’ve never seen went against pretty much everything medical professionals were taught — except the part about saving a life in an emergency. Sandra was putting herself at risk for a stranger, and Mei Lin respected that. She took the packet and slipped it into her pocket. “I’ll walk up there with Jesse myself,” she decided. “And I’ll do my best to get Mr. Smith to agree to treatment, one way or the other.”
Sandra’s lips curved up slightly, which was as close to a smile as the woman got. She gave a nod as brisk as a salute, then popped back into the clinic’s exam room.
Mei Lin returned to her car and drove toward the Torpins’ place. She knew vaguely where it was, having been there twice before, but in both cases it had been dark and someone else had been driving.
Her heart warmed at the memory. Winter in Gustavus, much to her surprise, had been a social whirlwind. The locals responded to the long stretches of darkness by finding creative excuses to get together, scheduling everything from church and community events to informal potluck dinners that rotated to different people’s houses. Elsie hosted a group of friends at her house every week, and in return she and Mei Lin were frequently invited elsewhere. Elsie rarely felt up to going out in the cold, but often when she declined an invitation someone else would miraculously appear at the house to sit with her so that her nurse could go. Mei Lin had been deeply touched not only by how well the small community cared for Elsie, but how they also took Mei Lin’s own needs into account. Far from feeling isolated “in the middle of nowhere,” she had had a perfectly wonderful winter getting to know an entire town.
She paused at a fork in the road and considered, then took a guess and turned the Subaru to the left. Getting lost didn’t concern her much. There were only so many roads in Gustavus, and if she accidently wound up in someone else’s private drive, she had a good chance of knowing the family. After a few minutes, the road she was traveling dead-ended at the Torpins’ place. “I knew it,” she lied, parking the car and waving to the two young boys who played with a dog in the clearing. She hopped out, greeted the friendly lab, and proceeded to the door. “Hello!” she called, knocking lightly on the metal frame of the screen. An interior door stood open already. “It’s Mei Lin Sullivan.”
Within seconds, a thin blonde in her early thirties appeared at the door, struggling with a wiggly infant on her hip. “Mei Lin?” she said with surprise. “What brings you out here? Come in!”
“No thanks, Amanda. I don’t mean to trouble you,” Mei Lin said quickly, noting the bags under the mother’s eyes. The baby whined and balled up her fists in a cranky gesture. “I know you’r
e busy. I was hoping to catch your husband at home.” She quickly explained her concern for Stanley Smith.
“Oh, dear,” Amanda said with distress, switching the baby to the opposite hip. “Jesse’s not here. He’s running a fishing charter for Bill Hoskins today. I just saw Stanley on Saturday, but I didn’t notice anything wrong with him. He doesn’t have a phone up there, you know. There’s no electric or water, either.”
Mei Lin tensed. Stanley Smith was hardly the only Alaskan to make do with a woodstove and an outhouse, but such conditions did not bode well for sanitary wound care. “How long a walk is it up to his place?” she asked.
“Half an hour, give or take,” Amanda answered. “I’d walk you up there myself, but I’ve got the kids. I’m sure Jesse would be happy to go with you when he gets back, though.”
Mei Lin debated. Later today might be fine. They might go up and find Stanley Smith healing nicely and annoyed at being bothered. But her gut was screaming otherwise. It had been two days already since the wound had been in the state she’d seen it, and she had no reason to believe he’d received any treatment since.
Her gut might have a lousy track record. But it refused to be ignored.
“If you think I can find the place,” Mei Lin announced, “I’ll go on up now.”
“Oh, the trail’s easy to follow,” Amanda assured, walking out with the baby still on her hip. She pointed to a gravel track that branched off from the main road to form a narrow, treeless lane. The gravel quickly petered out, obscured by tall grass and weeds, and bushes encroached from the woods on either side. The “road” that remained was barely wide enough for an ATV, but a trail of beaten-down grass indicated a recently used footpath.
“Just keep walking, and you’ll wind up at the cabin,” Amanda explained. “Can’t miss it. A brown dog will probably come out to meet you; don’t worry, he’s a lover. The trail’s used by all sorts of other critters, though, so if I were you, I’d take bear spray.” She looked up at the sky. It was gray, as usual, but not particularly threatening. “And your rain gear, of course. Remember, there’s no cell reception back there. How long do you think you’ll be?”
“I have no idea.”
Amanda’s lips twisted. “Tell you what. If you’re not back by the time Jesse gets home, I’ll send him up after you.”
Mei Lin nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks.” Amanda took the baby back into the house, and Mei Lin extracted her boots, rain pants, and jacket from the Subaru. Then she donned the small pack that held her water bottle and clipped her bear spray onto a belt loop. Nobody needed to remind her about the latter. She wouldn’t walk fifty yards from her car without it.
She set out on the trail, which like all of Gustavus was mostly flat. The walking was easy; even in those places where the lane was blocked with fallen branches and trees, she could easily pick out Stanley’s most recently bushwhacked detour. But as the sound of the Torpin boys’ play faded out behind her, she felt a growing sense of unease. She wasn’t used to being in places with no other people. Particularly places in which the closest person could be farther away from her than the closest carnivore. The Alaskan rainforest was objectively beautiful, but this deep into the woods, the plethora of tightly packed tree trunks hemmed her in like a silent army, and the thick understory of ferns and devil’s club seemed tall enough to conceal a half-grown elephant. Anything or anybody could be lurking within feet of her… and how would she know?
A shiver rocked her shoulders, but she tried to think positively. She rooted the image of a stalking wolf out of her imagination and replaced it with a picture of Thane Buchanan, his booming laugh resounding through the forest as he walked the trail ahead of her, telling tales of wild British Columbia. She smiled, feeling instantly more at ease. How fun it would be to have this adventure in the company of someone like him! Someone naturally in tune with the great outdoors. Someone strong and capable…
A sudden wave of guilt dampened her happy thoughts. She’d been crowing about having gone so long without a significant other, but that achievement came with a big fat asterisk. Alaska might be full of men, but the ones who lived permanently in Gustavus were either old enough to be her father, already married, or still in high school. Until Thane Buchanan came to dinner, she hadn’t spent more than ten minutes with any semi-eligible male since her plane landed.
She sighed to herself, then just as quickly frowned and set her jaw. So what? However it had happened, she had been single all this time, and she had been able to function just fine, had she not? She hadn’t pined or sulked or felt incomplete… she’d been busy with Elsie, and she’d been perfectly content. So there! She pressed on with determination, and her unease soon gave way to exhilaration. Mei Lin Sullivan, backcountry woman!
A year ago, she wouldn’t have dared take such a trek by herself. Her family would be impressed, especially her intrepid sister. Ri Sullivan-Markov had lived in Alaska for a couple years now and was working on a master’s in marine biology at the state university in Fairbanks. Mei Lin smirked to remember how she had taken on the Gustavus job assuming that she and her sister would get to see each other often. Naive “mainlander” that she was, she hadn’t realized that no road connected the two cities and that flying commercial was expensive, required two stops, and took all day. She’d actually seen Ri and her husband Wolf only once, in May, between the end of their classes and the beginning of their summer fieldwork. And even that get-together probably wouldn’t have happened if her Alaskan brother-in-law didn’t know several pilots.
Mei Lin chuckled at her ignorance. She’d had no idea what she was getting into when she came to the land of the midnight sun. But she had no regrets, either.
Something lying on the ground stopped her short. Scat. A pile of animal droppings, dark with berry juice and riddled with tiny seeds. She looked around. A bear had definitely been here. But when? She had learned much from Elsie’s nature books about how to identify wild creatures by their scat and tracks, and she’d enjoyed practicing her skills at the beach and on the Nagoonberry Trail. But in those places, she had at least some chance of getting cell reception.
“Hello?” she called out uncertainly. The pile look reasonably fresh, but under no circumstances was she checking its temperature. She listened for a moment, but heard no rustling of bushes or snapping of twigs. The only sounds she heard were the wind in the trees and the occasional chirp of a forest bird. You’ll be fine, she assured herself. The scat could have been there for a day or more. She pushed forward, but decided she should probably sing something while she walked. She was as tone deaf as a stump and never, ever sang in front of people, but presumably the bears wouldn’t mind. As long as they heard her coming — all the nature books insisted — they would do their best to get out of her way.
She continued down the trail, alternating pop songs with some of her favorite musical theater numbers, fudging the lyrics she couldn’t remember. The rain held off, and she was enjoying herself. But eventually her repertoire ran thin, and during a period of silence when she was trying to think up another song, she heard a noise.
It was a crackling sound, like a twig breaking. It was followed by a steady thudding and a rustling, both of which were coming from the direction in which she headed.
Mei Lin froze. The sounds grew steadily louder. She could see nothing moving, but the trail curved ahead, leaving only a dozen yards or so visible. Whatever was making the noise, it was coming closer. And it was coming closer fast.
Her heart skittered. She reached down and unhooked the can of bear spray from her belt. She pulled off the safety clip and stretched out her arms, aiming the nozzle down the trail.
Most bear charges are fake-outs, she reminded herself. They veer off at the last second. Wait until the bear is in range to spray…
Her pulse pounded in her ears, nearly overwhelming the rustling and the thudding. She saw movement in the tall grass around the curve.
Whatever was coming would reach her in seconds.
&nb
sp; Chapter 6
Don’t look it in the eye!
Then where CAN I look?
Only pull the trigger when it’s within thirty feet and you’re sure it’s headed for you…
Wait… how far is THAT?
Keep it together — you’ll be fine!
I am SO going to pass out…
Mei Lin couldn’t breathe. Her arms trembled so violently the spray can jerked around in the air in front of her. Holy crap! She couldn’t hit the side of a barn!
The grass ahead swayed and bent. A ball of brown fur shot into view and hustled toward her.
It was a medium-sized dog.
Mei Lin let out her breath with a gush and dropped her arms to her sides. Her jelly legs bent beneath her and she dropped into an ungraceful squat. “Oh, my God,” she cried aloud as the dog ran past. It then reversed course, wiped out on its side, got up, and scrambled back to her. “You scared me!” she chastised.
The dog slowed. It covered the last few feet between them in a submissive crouch, its tail wagging limp and low. “It’s okay,” Mei Lin said immediately, stretching out a hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you, either.” She gulped for breath as the dog gave her a sniff.
“Why didn’t you bark?” she asked with surprise. The dog must have come running when he heard her singing. Most dogs would be barking their heads off if a stranger approached their home in a remote area. This mutt went belly-up the second she started petting him. “I guess security’s not your cup of tea,” she teased.
The dog seemed pleased; but his self-indulgence lasted only a moment. Then he scrambled back to his feet and began a frantic pacing. When Mei Lin rose, he ran back the way he had come. She watched as he disappeared around the bend. Friendly as his greeting had been, the dog was agitated.
She continued walking down the lane after him, but her progress was evidently not fast enough. The dog reappeared, this time stopping short about ten feet in front of her. His brown eyes locked on hers, and he issued a single, sharp bark.
