Mountains Apart

by Carol Ross

  “This,” Bering said softly, turning the sketch for her to see, “this is what I’m trying to save. Emily, think about how this is all going to change if Cam-Field gets its claws in here. You’re doing a great job of making people think about how much better their lives could be if they only had more. But what about this?” He pointed at her drawing. “What about what they already have, and what about the ways Rankins would suffer in the process of Cam-Field’s so-called improvements?”

  “Bering, I...” Emily opened her mouth to tell him that she was the one who’d drawn it, but as she looked into his face, the sincerity and raw emotion she saw halted her words. She realized that he was trying to appeal to her emotions, which had been attempted plenty of times over the years and was usually the most effective tactic the opposition employed—more effective even than economics. It never worked with her, though, so why did she feel a lump the size of Rhode Island gathering in her throat?

  “I’d like you to have this, Emily,”

  She squeaked out the words, “What? Why?”

  “So that no matter what happens, you can always see Rankins through my eyes—through the eyes of the people here who love this place like I do—just like it is.”

  “It’s... I’m touched, Bering. Thank you. But...”

  “But what?”

  “But you know that things can’t stay the same forever, right? The world changes and it evolves and usually it gets better. Wouldn’t you like to see that for Rankins?”

  Hardness settled over his features. “Emily, your speeches are wasted on me and you know it. Change is not always for the better. Think about the natural world and how Mother Nature usually takes her sweet time as she evokes major changes. Evolution is a slow process filled with minor adjustments that are a reaction to a creature’s immediate environment.”

  Emily’s lifelong Cam-Field training kicked in instinctively as she fired back. “Progress is the advancement of human society, Bering. It’s forward movement, it’s the betterment of civilization, it’s improvement.”

  He looked away for a second and then met her eyes with a searching look. “Do you believe that? Do you genuinely, in your heart, believe that Rankins will ultimately be better off if Cam-Field comes here and digs it up and paves it over?”

  “It doesn’t matter what my heart feels, Bering. If Cam-Field doesn’t do it, someone else will, and at least Cam-Field will bring good along with the change.”

  His voice was charged with the same emotion that was reflected in his eyes. “It absolutely does matter what your heart feels, Emily.”

  She had no idea how to respond to that. It seemed superfluous to point out that this exchange only illustrated the gulf separating them. She felt her hope deflating. She’d been right after all—there was no way for them to manipulate around this situation. They both had too much riding on its outcome. Silence stretched long and heavy between them. Anxiety gnawed at her and she wondered how to make a graceful retreat.

  He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. He looked up for a few seconds and then back down at her. “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “I couldn’t possibly begin to imagine,” she said. In fact, what she imagined was that he, too, was finally realizing how impossible this was and he was going to tell her to take a hike. The thought of having Bering as a full-blown enemy instead of the frenemy that he was now filled her with something close to despair. She would miss this—she would miss him....

  “A cease-fire.”

  “Hmm?” Her heart leaped in response to what she thought she’d heard....

  “I would like to call a cease-fire—a one-day reprieve from this...craziness.” He gestured toward the coupon she’d won. “Take a ride with me tomorrow and cash that in. I’d like to show you some of what I love about this place. Things you can’t see by just walking around town. Things that are even more amazing than what this sketch captures .”

  “Bering, that sounds lovely, but I can’t. I have to work. I have too much to do—” She stopped herself as it occurred to her that only minutes ago she’d been pondering the notion of taking some time to discover what she liked outside her job. Why couldn’t she learn to manage both work and play like other people did? Bering seemed to be pretty good at it. And she liked that about him—envied it. How better to learn such a concept than from someone who had seemingly mastered it? The idea was too tempting to resist.

  “You know what? I will,” she said happily, “but this had better be some excursion. Did you see how much I had to pay for this?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  EMILY WAS READY and waiting when Bering arrived the next morning, and inwardly unsettled by how much she was looking forward to their outing. She tried to tell herself that she needed to maintain her distance, stay detached, hold on to her objectivity...but another part of her wanted to wholeheartedly embrace this cease-fire and let her feelings guide her. It was not a concept she was familiar with.

  She opened the door before he had a chance to knock. He’d told her to dress warmly, so she’d donned silk leggings under her fine-gauge wool slacks, and a snug turtleneck beneath a thick peacoat. Her feet were encased in expensive and fashionable ankle-high boots. Bering stopped when he was about three feet from her. He had the cutest scowl on his face. Emily wondered what was wrong at the same time that she hoped he wasn’t going to cancel.

  He placed his gloved hands on his hips as his eyes traveled up and down the length of her, and then back up and down again. “I thought I told you to dress warmly,” he finally said.

  “I did.” She glanced down at her outfit and then shifted her gaze back up to meet his. “I am.”

  “It’s five degrees out here.”

  “Yeah, I know, it’s really cold.” She stood outside the doorway shivering.

  Bering looked up at the star-studded sky and muttered a stream of mostly incoherent words, although Emily made out ridiculous and city girl. Then he looked at her. “Emily,” he drawled, “would you step out here with me for a second?”

  “Sure, let me grab my bag and we can get going.”

  “No, no, we’re not leaving yet. Shut the door and come over here for a minute.”

  Emily obliged, walking with careful steps across the icy sidewalk. For some inexplicable reason, the pathway to her front door seemed to constantly be frozen into a solid sheet of ice. She’d noticed that other places she went they didn’t have this problem. She made a mental note to ask Bering about it. Unfortunately, her shoes always seemed to make matters worse. She was wearing boots now, so that should be helpful, but they didn’t seem to be doing much good on the—

  “Woo!” she shrieked as she slipped and nearly fell—would have fallen if Bering hadn’t reached out and held on to her.

  “Whoa,” he said.

  “Whoa,” she echoed, gripping his hard shoulders for balance. “Hi,” she said and grinned up at him. Her heart picked up its pace as he held her firmly until she was steady.

  “Okay,” he said, keeping his hands resting lightly on her upper arms. “Now, are you cold?”

  Emily looked around as if deciding how to correctly answer the obvious question. “Uh, yes, of course I am. It’s freezing out here. I thought we’d already been over that.”

  Bering looked down at her. “You’ve been outside for a total of what, thirty seconds? And you’re already cold. So, tell me, exactly how does this,” he said and nodded at her, “constitute dressing warmly?”

  Emily frowned at him. “Hey, this stuff is supposed to be top quality. I ordered it online before I came up here.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine for a stroll down the block on a chilly night in Southern California, but it’s not appropriate for the outdoors of Alaska. I should have thought of this. Do you have anything else?”

  Emily thought for a second. She shook her head. “Uh-uh. This is all my warmest stuff.”

  “Okay, come on.” Bering grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the house. Emily’s feet slipped comp
letely out from underneath her this time. He caught her and scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing more than a sack of flour. He carried her into the house, barely pausing in his stride to open the door. He set her down and shut the door behind them.

  He strode purposefully toward the kitchen, picked up the phone and dialed. My sister, he mouthed and pointed at the receiver. “Janie! Hi! No, no, I’m not calling to cancel. I’ll be there. Of course not. Yeah, that sounds fine.” He was silent for a second before he spoke. “Can I say something? I’m calling for a reason here.” He listened again for a second. “Hey, now, that’s a little harsh, isn’t it? Are you busy? Right now. Okay, I’m coming over. I need to borrow some things. Did you finish the...uh? You did? Great, okay, see you in a few.”

  He turned toward Emily. “We are going to make a quick stop on the way.”

  * * *

  BERING’S SISTER LIVED in a large gray-and-white painted two-story home just a few miles from Emily’s rented duplex. Bering informed her that it was on the way to his place anyway, where his business was based and where they would ultimately be departing from.

  Janie opened the door and Emily saw instantly that she was a smaller, red-haired version of her brother. She had the same engaging smile that Bering had, and although there wasn’t quite the same spark about her, Emily felt immediately drawn to her. She was obviously pregnan,t and Emily could see the tension on her face and the purple tinge beneath her eyes. Bering had mentioned on the short drive over that grief and a difficult pregnancy were taking their toll. Emily found herself wanting to offer comfort in some small way.

  “It’s nice to meet you finally, Emily. Bering has talked about you a lot.”

  “You, too, Janie. And I’d be willing to bet that what I’ve heard about you is far better than what you have heard about me.”

  Janie opened her mouth, then shut it and laughed. “You have been causing a bit of a stir around here. I’m not gonna lie.”

  “Well, we are trying to put that aside for the day while I collect on the trip that I won at the auction last night. In fact, I’m glad we stopped by here. Now there’s a witness in case I fly off the back of this snow-machine thing and Bering changes his mind and leaves me in a snowbank.”

  * * *

  BERING WATCHED THE INTERACTION between Emily and his sister with both relief and satisfaction. It was good to see Janie laugh. She didn’t do it enough these days. She tried to stay strong for the boys, but he knew how much she struggled. At first, Bering had been so worried about her that he’d sought professional advice. He’d learned that the grieving process had to run its course. But still, he worried. He tried to spend as much time with her and his nephews as he could.

  As Janie gave Emily pieces of winter gear to try on, they talked and laughed as if they’d known each other for years. Janie cracked up when Emily made a joke about how unattractive the fluffy winter clothing was. “It’s like marshmallow puff and overstuffed comforter conspired together...”

  Emily had a way with people, Bering thought, and with her intelligence and easy charm, he suspected that she could have been successful at nearly any profession she chose. And why the oil and gas industry? He imagined that she could be so much happier in a position where her job entailed making people happy rather than trying to smooth over their anger. It was obvious to him that she wasn’t really happy—not deep down where it counted. He’d seen it when she had been in the hospital, and although she had been adept at hiding it since, he knew it was there. He wondered if she even realized it.

  When Emily was suitably outfitted, Janie bundled all the gear into a duffel bag. As they were leaving, Janie handed him a small gift bag. “Don’t forget this,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Bering said and then they made arrangements for his upcoming babysitting session.

  “Tuesday night?” Emily asked as they solidified the details. “Can I help?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Janie said. “Bering is used to it. He does it all the time.”

  “I know, but I’d really like to pay you back in some way for letting me borrow these things.”

  Something stirred within him when Emily made the offer. He sensed that Emily wanted to do something to help his sister, and that meant a lot on one level, but even more on another because he knew that there wasn’t anything she could gain for Cam-Field by helping him babysit.

  Janie looked questioningly at Bering.

  He shrugged. “Hey, if she wants to help...”

  After Bering had arrived home the night before, he’d spent a good part of the evening thinking about the conversation they’d had after he’d given Emily the drawing. The brief interchange had left them both tense. Two weeks of campaigning had proven that they were miles apart professionally, but things seemed to be completely different on a personal level.

  Was he a fool to believe that they could somehow keep this campaign from interfering in their relationship? For the day, yes, he believed they could, but what if he wanted more than this one day? And something was telling him that this one day with Emily would never be enough.

  * * *

  AS THEY DROVE out of town, Bering talked about his family and how devastating the loss of Janie’s husband, Cal, had been. They had married the year after Janie had graduated from high school and within the next three years they’d had Gareth and Reagan. She had been a married mother of two by the time she was twenty-one, but Janie had made it look easy. Everything had always come easy to her, Bering explained. She was beautiful, outgoing and one of those people who seemed to be good at everything she attempted.

  He recalled how Janie had often mentioned how happy she was that Cal wasn’t a fisherman like their father had been. How his work as a logger, while dangerous, didn’t fill her with dread like the thought of him fishing did. And then he’d been killed when the road beneath him gave way, sending the log loader he’d been operating tumbling down a mountainside.

  It was obvious to Emily that Bering would do anything for his family. And clearly they needed him. She would do anything for Aidan, but that was different because he didn’t need her—not on a daily basis anyway. She thought about her mother and stepfather. Her mother seemed too shallow to need anything but money. Franklin had always seemed to need her—at Cam-Field anyway. At least, she’d always felt that way until the promotion. Even that seemed unimportant, though, compared with the role Bering played within his family.

  Daylight was arriving as they turned onto a snowplowed tree-lined gravel drive. At the entrance, a huge slab of rock had been carved with the words James Guide & Outfitter Service. The property was heavily wooded but they soon drove into a sizable clearing. There was a large attractive building and several smaller outbuildings. One was obviously an office as it was marked as such.

  “It’s really beautiful here,” Emily remarked. “Does the river run through your property?”

  “It does,” Bering said, “all one hundred and sixty-four acres of it. I’d like to build a house right back there someday.” He pointed off in the distance.

  “What’s in all the buildings?” she asked as they pulled up in front of the largest. It was tall with unpainted but attractive wood siding.

  “Boats, vehicles, equipment,” he said as he hit a switch on the visor. A door opened and he efficiently turned the pickup around and backed into the open bay. “If it’s okay with you, I’m not going to take you on my usual guided tour. This one will be better and I promise you’ll get your money’s worth.”

  She agreed and hopped out of the vehicle. The building was full of more sporting equipment than Emily had ever seen outside a store. There were two more pickups, ATVs, snow machines, boats and inflatable rafts. Tools, equipment and fishing poles hung on the walls. The place appeared neat and tidy, though—full but organized. Emily didn’t doubt that Bering could find whatever he needed in an instant.

  They removed the outerwear that they’d packed earlier and began putting it on, Bering instructing her
on some of the finer points, like making sure her gloves were pulled over her sleeves and that her socks weren’t bunched into the bottom of her boots.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. He walked back to the pickup and retrieved something from the backseat. She recognized the bag as the one Janie had given him just before they’d left her house.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “This is for you to keep. Janie made it. She knits things—hats and scarves and mittens and stuff. She doesn’t have any red hats right now but she said she’d make you one if you like this.”

  Emily reached in and removed the fluffy softness. She pulled it through her fingers. “Like it? I love it.” She felt something at one end and looked down to find a small ivory-colored button had been sewn onto it. She examined it closely and discovered it had a wolf drawn on it. It was like a tiny work of art. She assumed it must be Janie’s signature of some sort.

  “Bering, thank you.” She wrapped it around her neck and pulled it snugly into place. “Hmm, is it possible? Have I finally discovered the secret to staying warm here? I doubt I’ll ever take it off again.” Emily grinned at him but he was staring back at her with a weird look on his face.

  “What? Is something wrong?”

  “Nope. You, uh, you look nice in red.”

  “Thank you. It’s my favorite.”

  “I remember.”

  He’d remembered...? Emily felt a rush of pleasure as she recalled that she had indeed told him her favorite color. “I never get a chance to wear it, though.”