Her Alaskan Pilot: An Alaskan Hero Novel

by Rebecca Thomas

  Sabrina gestured for them to sit down. “I’ll get you some tea. I have Earl Grey or Plantation Mint?”

  “Plantation Mint, please. Thank you.” Chryssa let herself sink deep into the cushioned sofa.

  Travis plopped down on the matching brown leather sofa adjacent to her. “She has a way of making a person feel at home, doesn’t she?”

  He must have read her thoughts. “Yes, she exudes hospitality. She’s the perfect host for your family’s lodge.”

  “She sure is, just like you were always the perfect assistant for me.”

  Warmth flushed her skin. The compliment felt personal and she resisted the urge to address it. “When will you start the deck repairs?”

  “Anxious to get rid of me?”

  She crossed her arms, then looked out the bank of windows. “Of course not.”

  A few beats of silence passed.

  He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “It feels like there’s something you’re not telling me. This move to Arizona. You resigning. Something about it feels off.”

  She pinned her lips together. She looked through the window to the lake and beyond, in an effort to keep her eyes averted. If she looked at him, she was afraid she’d crack. She’d tell him she was leaving to get away from him, every bit as much as she was leaving to start a new life for herself.

  Travis scooted forward until his knees touched hers, his blue eyes transfixed on her. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

  Chryssa’s cheeks warmed. Trying to think of an appropriate response, she was saved by the sound of footsteps behind her.

  Sabrina reappeared bearing a tray with three mugs and a white ceramic teapot centered in the middle. She slid the tray on the rectangular coffee table and poured the steaming water into each cup before setting the teapot back down. “Has Travis told you about the great fishing we have in the lake?”

  Chryssa glanced at Travis. “I got to experience his fishing a little earlier. We stopped for dinner and we had fresh-caught pike. He caught, cleaned, and cooked it for dinner. It was delicious.”

  “Isn’t that wonderful,” Sabrina stated more than asked. “Travis is an expert in the woods. All the Forresters are…well, maybe not Dane, but you never have to worry about anything if Travis is with you. He’ll take care of everything.”

  Chryssa brought the mug to her lips and inhaled the smell of sweet mint.

  Travis’ eyes locked with hers in an intense way that made her pulse beat with extra vigor.

  “Did you do any fishing, Chryssa, when you made the stop for dinner?” Sabrina asked.

  “No,” Chryssa said. “I don’t know how.”

  “Well, Travis should teach you how to fish.” Sabrina turned to Travis. “Isn’t that right, Travis?”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Travis replied. “Don’t you agree?”

  The lodge suddenly felt even larger than it was, as if it could swallow her up. “Um, yeah, sure. I wouldn’t mind learning how to fish.”

  A little late in the game, she thought. But people in Arizona would expect an Alaskan to know how to fish, so maybe it would be a good idea to learn.

  “Great. We’re agreed.” Travis rubbed his hands together. “I’m taking you fishing tomorrow for lake trout. We’ll take a canoe.”

  She had agreed to more time alone with Travis. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking. Why did she agree to this trip anyway? Apparently, she enjoyed torture.

  * * *

  AFTER UNPACKING AND SHOWERING, Chryssa was grateful that exhaustion consumed her and she was able to fall asleep. In fact, with the shades pulled against the sun, she overslept. She couldn’t believe her clock read after nine o’clock. Normally an early riser, she never slept that long at home.

  After getting dressed, she went downstairs and followed the smell of coffee. The dining room table had a basket of scones, along with bananas and strawberries on it. A note beside the assortment read: Help yourself. Coffee in the kitchen. Juice in the refrigerator.

  She took a scone and walked toward the kitchen.

  In the kitchen, the sunlight rippled across the hardwood floors. Mugs sat next to the coffee maker. She helped herself and slid into the bench-style breakfast nook. Sipping on her coffee, she glanced out the window at the mountainous scenery and couldn’t wait to get her sketchbook. The mountains had been partially covered last night, but now the skies were clear of clouds and perfectly blue.

  The sketches she’d done while sitting by the campfire with Travis had turned out remarkably well. The showing she worked for and dreamed of, would finally happen. Mrs. Cumberlidge had insinuated that once she’d gotten settled at the gallery, she would, in fact, have her own showing.

  After she finished her scone and coffee, she went upstairs to retrieve her sketchbook. On the way back downstairs, she saw Sabrina with a husky mix gray and black dog.

  “Good morning,” Sabrina said. “I hope you like dogs. This is Bunny. She’s real friendly.”

  “Oh, I do.” Chryssa finished descending the stairs and put her hand out for Bunny to sniff. “Aren’t you a pretty one?”

  “We just went for a run. Did you find the continental breakfast and coffee okay?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Chryssa glanced around the open living room area. “It’s so quiet. Am I the only guest here?”

  “No, there’s one other family here. The parents, along with their two sons and their spouses, are occupying the other three rooms. A family reunion of sorts. They scheduled an early morning hike, so they’re gone for the day. Which works out perfectly because I imagine Travis will be pounding and making a lot of noise on the deck this morning.”

  Chryssa heard a door open and close from the hallway. A voice called out, “How was your run?”

  A man approached them who had to be Travis’ brother. They had the same medium build, dark hair and dazzling smile.

  Sabrina stepped toward him and snaked her arms around his waist. “This is my husband, Zak. This is Chryssa, Travis’ assistant. Well, former assistant.”

  Zak unwrapped his arms from his wife and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Chryssa. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Chryssa shook his hand. “All good things, I hope.”

  “Most certainly. Well, except the part about you leaving. Fair warning. If I know my brother, he’ll try to find a way to convince you to stay.”

  “Oh, he’s already offered me more money and benefits, but I’m determined to leave.”

  Zak nodded. “Well, good for you. Sounds like you’ve got a plan to move forward.”

  “Yes, I do,” Chryssa said confidently. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some sketches done while I’m here.”

  “Please do,” Sabrina said. “You’re welcome to go anywhere around the lodge, and if you need a ride into town, we’re happy to loan you one of the four-wheelers.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chryssa didn’t waste any time. She walked around the grounds of the lodge with her sketchbook in hand, jotting down details of the surrounding terrain. The needles on the spruce trees, the moss, the gravel: no detail was too small. In no time at all, she would have usable sketches in hand.

  She walked along the lake’s muddy shore. Sunlight filtered through scattered clouds and shone across the water. The sun glowed brightly overhead. She’d never been this far north. The arctic terrain was different. More moss and lichen. Trees didn’t line the mountains because they couldn’t survive the harshness of winter.

  She stared at the fluffy clouds in the distance, feeling an extra zest for life she hadn’t felt in a long time. Alaska did get in your blood. It was in hers.

  But she had to move on. She had a new job and a new future. Grabbing her sketchbook, she sat down on the ground and moved her hand in long strokes across the paper. Her favorite college professor, Dr. Francesca Talbot’s words replayed in her mind and her hand movements ran free. Gather the details a lay person wouldn’t notice, she’d say. The details only the bes
t artists notice: the ripples in the water, the shadows behind the trees, and the direction of the light.

  With pencil in hand, she sketched the outline of the oblong-shaped lake before her. She immersed herself in seeing every unusual element of the lake and mountains but heard a distant buzzing. Gazing upward, she smiled and calculated how many flights per day flew in and out of Gold Creek.

  Remembering the details of Travis’ plane, she sketched his Cessna tucked in amongst the billowing array of clouds. She drew the curve of the tires, and added the blue striping along the fuselage. The drone of the engine sounded in the background. Chryssa watched the small plane angle over the lake and stood up as the tires touched down on the gravel runway.

  Walking toward the lodge, familiar jean-clad legs came into view attached to a hunky guy. Her stomach somersaulted. A surge of warmth released inside her chest.

  It was Travis.

  This weekend needed to be over. She needed to move on with her life. He wore sunglasses and strode toward her with his relaxed easy gait, so confident and at ease with his surroundings. Just like when she saw him on the tarmac in Fairbanks most mornings, she couldn’t look away.

  She immediately closed, then clutched her sketchpad to her chest. Even from this distance, she noted his wide grin.

  His voice carried to her. “Good morning. Have you gotten lots of sketching done?”

  “An artist’s work is never done. It’s just in varying stages of completeness.”

  “I had breakfast down at the café. Then decided to take a quick thirty minute flight around the mountains. I’ve got to repair the stairs first thing, but then we can take a break at lunchtime and I’ll take you fishing across the lake.” He grinned at her with self-assurance. “Sound good?”

  Just act casual—that was the plan. “Yes. Okay. That’s fine.”

  He lifted a brow. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. “All right. I’ll pack us a lunch. We’ll have a picnic on the other side of the lake. I think you’ll be impressed with the scenery. Along with great fishing, there is a huge fireweed field you have to see.” He strode toward the lodge and called over his shoulder. “I’ll get to work. See you soon.”

  She shook her head at his retreating frame and wished her traitorous body wouldn’t react to him. His swagger, his grin, his blue eyes, his—

  Everything about him made her world go hazy.

  CHAPTER 8

  Chryssa spent the rest of her morning sketching from the deck in her room. Nearing lunchtime and her trip across the lake with Travis, her nerves got the better of her. He said he would pack them a lunch. She refused to be impressed by his efforts, but not every guy would go to that kind of trouble.

  Sabrina had knocked on her door earlier to let her know that Travis would meet her at the dock.

  She gathered a few essential items and threw them in her backpack. A raincoat, her sketchbook, pencils, and an extra sweatshirt in case it got cold. Shrugging her backpack over her shoulders, she straightened her spine and sucked in a deep breath, determined to enjoy their outing.

  She’d always wanted to learn to fish. She would focus on that—not on how Travis Forrester kept looking at her and how it made her feel.

  Travis was loading supplies into a red canoe. Strong and handsome, his smile put all the scenery in Gold Creek to shame. The flex of his thigh muscles strained under his jeans. He stopped mid-stride as if he sensed her approach. Turning around on the end of the dock, he shouted, “Duke, don’t even think about it!”

  A split second later, the big dog bounded through the woods straight toward her. Panic settled in her chest as she contemplated whether to run or stand her ground. She looked to Travis for guidance.

  “Duke! Sit and stay!” Travis yelled again, and this time the dog stopped in his tracks. He turned his big brown head in the direction of the lake, sat down, and whined.

  Travis strode up the wooden dock with the assurance of a man on a mission. “I was afraid he was going to jump on you.”

  Chryssa’s heart sputtered. “I wasn’t sure either.”

  “Yeah, you looked a little shell-shocked. His size and exuberance can be overwhelming.” Travis grabbed the dog by the collar and spoke to him in a soothing tone. “You’re overwhelming our guest, boy. Easy, now. He loves staying at the lodge with Bunny.”

  Searching for something intelligent to say, she only managed, “Yeah, he is really big.”

  “Yeah, and his heart is even bigger. He might lick you to death, but that’d be about it.” Travis’ grip on the dog looked firm. The dog’s large brown eyes moved from his owner, then to her, and back again.

  “Don’t you remember me from yesterday?” she asked.

  Duke extended his nose to her hand and wagged his tail. He started to lick her before Travis pulled back on his collar.

  Chryssa reached out and stroked the warm fur on his head. “I’ve never owned a dog.”

  “Sorry to hear that. My family always had one or two dogs. And they always caused trouble. Got into the garbage, took my socks, and chewed up our shoes. My brothers and I could always blame the dog for stuff we did.” The pride and obvious affection in his voice warmed her. “Duke does pretty well. He doesn’t cause me too much grief.”

  “I can see how much he’d love it here. All this wide-open space.” She stroked his fur as Duke nuzzled her leg and sat on her foot. “You’re really rooted to this place. Your family, your plane, the fishing, your dog. It’s all very. . .well really nice.”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say my roots are embedded into the permafrost. Always there between the layers of soil. Can’t always see it, but you know it’s there. It’s the way the landscape is put together. Lots of it up here.” Pointing away from the lake, he gently gripped her shoulders and turned her in a half rotation. “See that low spot over there? Lots of black spruce and lots of permafrost. You wouldn’t want to build anything there.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize black spruce is an indication of permafrost, but it makes sense.”

  “We have to haul so much gravel in to build roads. And it still ends up being bumpy every spring. That’s why there’s no sense in spending the money for asphalt in most of these places because the permafrost underneath would ruin it all by the next year.”

  “So you just keep hauling in more gravel?”

  “Pretty much.” He gestured toward the dock and she walked that direction. “Are you ready to catch your first fish?”

  “You’re so sure I’ll catch one, huh?”

  “Have you no faith in your instructor?” He puffed up his chest.

  “Oh, I have faith in my instructor. It’s me that’s lacking.” She hefted her backpack off her shoulders and set it by her feet on the dock.

  He grinned. “I haven’t found you lacking in anything yet. Not one little thing.”

  A warm fuzzy feeling engulfed her. “You haven’t been around me very long, is all.”

  “What is it with you artist types?” He reached for the strap of her backpack.

  “Why are you trying to type me?” She bent over to grab her pack at the same time. Their fingers touched and she quickly pulled back.

  “Am I? Well, all I know is that you’re my type.” Staring into her eyes, he gently placed the backpack inside a garbage bag. Tying the top securely, he put the backpack in the bottom of the canoe. “Artist or otherwise.”

  She refused to be side-tracked by his bluer than blue eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Hoping to keep your things dry.” He stepped behind her and slipped a life vest through her arms as though she were a small child. “And keep you from drowning.”

  He tightened up the straps around her shoulders and waist. Her breathing hitched in varying degrees. “I know how to swim.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, but this is just a precaution.” He winked and gave her a devil-may-have-you grin.

  “Probably better to be safe,” she mumbled, as she willed her heartbeat to slow down.

  He
stepped inside the canoe and reached for her hand. “Do you mind if Duke comes along?”

  “Um, no…but you know, I haven’t been in a canoe before.”

  “Nope. I didn’t know that. Step slowly and squat down once you’re inside to distribute your weight. I’m glad you told me. I’m a safety-conscious kind of guy. You’re in the best and most capable hands.”

  Yeah, I know, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

  Duke hopped in the middle. She settled inside the canoe at the front end and faced toward the lake. Travis sat at the opposite end. “You ready?”

  “I guess so.” She gripped the edges of the canoe with both hands.

  “You’re sounding a little apprehensive. Would you like me to go over the safety features of our Boeing 737 canoe? Show you where the emergency track lighting and exits are?”

  “Ha ha. You’re so funny.” Chryssa had to admit his light-heartedness did make her feel a little less anxious. She certainly didn’t research canoeing before she came to Gold Creek, or how quickly hypothermia could take over if she fell overboard.

  “I strive to be a funny. You know that.” The canoe wobbled. “Are you ready to shove off into the wild blue yonder?”

  Chryssa twisted around to gaze at him. The rope that held the canoe to the dock was lying at his feet. He held tight to the wooden post, keeping the canoe steady. The magnificent surroundings almost looked plain next to his smile. Her heart swelled up in her chest.

  “Well, when you say it like that, then yes, I guess so. Into the wild blue yonder we go.”

  “Hang on,” he said, as the canoe slithered out across the water.

  She gripped the sides of the canoe. Hanging on seemed to be the status quo when she was with Travis.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His rich baritone voice sounded from behind her. “You trust me, don’t you?”