Home Sweet Alaska

by Beth Carpenter

  Delores popped out of the second exam room and checked in with Volta. “Where are we?”

  “Three patients left—a strep test, possible ear infection and a nasty cut from a fillet knife. It looks like it’s going to need stitches.”

  “I can handle that one, if you like,” Scott offered.

  “Fine.” Delores appeared less frazzled than when they’d arrived. “Volta, please put the stitches in room two. I assume that wailing noise is the ear infection?”

  Volta nodded. “Six months old. Tugging at her earlobe.”

  “Okay, put her in room three.”

  “All right. Do you want me to clean up room one and put the strep patient in there?”

  “That would help immensely, thank you.”

  Since Scott traveled so often, finding his way around Delores’s clinic didn’t faze him. It took him a bit of time to locate all the supplies he’d need for the sutures, and he had to wait for Delores to access the anesthetic, but cleaning out the cut and stitching it together was straightforward.

  The patient seemed more embarrassed than distressed. “For Christmas, the wife gave me one of those Kevlar gloves to protect my hand when I fillet fish, but I can’t remember where I put it.” He sighed. “I go forty years without cutting myself. Then the wife buys me the glove, I don’t use it, and this happens. All the way over, she’s talking. ‘Why do you suppose I got you the glove, because you dance like Michael Jackson?’”

  “Do you?” Scott tied off a second stitch.

  The man guffawed. “Not hardly. Worst part is, she’s right. I should have found the glove first. Are you married, Doc?”

  “No.”

  “Well, let me clue you in. When a smart woman gives advice, you should always listen.”

  “I’ll remember that. Did you at least get the fish filleted?”

  “Yep, I was on the last fish. Rainbow trout. At least we’ll have a good meal.” He chuckled and looked at his hand. “Tonight, with the fish, my wife will make me those big onion rings—you know, the ones where you get eggs and flour and grease all over and spend half your life cleaning up the kitchen.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “And she doesn’t even like onions. She’ll make them because she knows I like them, and she wants me to feel better.” He grinned. “Nothing in the world guarantees happiness more than marrying a good woman.”

  Scott threaded through another stitch. “You’re a lucky man, Tom Jefford.”

  “You bet I am.”

  Scott finished tying off the last stitch. “There you go. Keep it clean. If it turns red or infected, come see Delores right away. Though I doubt it’ll give you any trouble.”

  Tom chuckled. “Now don’t be telling my wife that. I need to milk it for a day or two. Maybe she’ll bake a cake.”

  “My lips are sealed. Come back in two weeks to get the stitches out.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” The man offered his good hand, and Scott shook it.

  Delores was passing in the hallway when they stepped out. “Hi, Tom.” She lifted his hand. “What happened?”

  “Fillet knife.”

  “Ouch. You know, you should get one of those Kevlar gloves.”

  Tom nodded solemnly. “I think I’ll do that.” He looked past her shoulder and winked at Scott.

  Scott opened the door to the waiting room. The woman there rose when she saw Tom. “I’ve already checked us out, so we’re ready to go.”

  “Doc, I’d like you to meet the finest woman in Alaska, my wife, Marianne.”

  Sweet.

  The woman’s face turned red, but she offered her hand to Scott. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too. You take good care of Tom here. All right?”

  “I will.” She smiled at Scott before turning to examine the stitches in her husband’s hand, shake her head and lead him out without another word.

  Scott turned to find Volta coming out of exam room one. “The waiting room is empty. Everything okay?”

  “It’s all good. I put up the closed sign.”

  Delores came striding out of her office. “I called in the prescription for the ear infection. I think we’re done. Volta, thank you.” To Scott, she said, “You’re lucky to have her working with you.”

  They were almost the same words he’d said to Tom, and he gave the same answer Tom had. “You bet I am.” Scott was lucky. Lucky to be working with Volta on this study. Lucky she hadn’t bolted the first time she saw him alone at the clinic in Sparks. Lucky she’d ever come into his life in the first place.

  Delores grabbed a jacket from a hook on the wall. “Now we can go to lunch and talk about this study of yours.” She gave Scott a teasing smile. “I have lots of suggestions.”

  “I want to hear them all.”

  * * *

  THAT EVENING, SCOTT ambled along the concrete balcony that ran the length of the motel, reluctant to return to his stuffy room. Volta had retreated to hers immediately after dinner, saying she wanted to call home. They’d left Mike back in the bar and grill, playing darts with the locals.

  The back of the Porcupine Inn overlooked what appeared to be a graveyard for dead machinery. Scott stopped at the end of the balcony to examine the rusty heap in the corner with a sapling growing through it. He was almost certain it had once been an AMC Gremlin, although how it got here, miles off the road system, was something of a mystery. It was the same in remote places the world over; people hung on to their old and broken things because one never knew when a forty-year-old hubcap might come in handy.

  At least in Alaska, the trees quickly grew up around it, devouring the rotting junk and replacing it with vegetation. There was something comforting about the idea. He’d told Volta once that the past couldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t true. His childhood scars had shaped the man he was today, for better or worse. But maybe new growth could crowd out old and useless emotions. It was something to think about. Volta stepped out of her room and slumped against the railing, her eyes on something far away. All day long, she’d been running at full speed, but her energy seemed to have deserted her. He stepped forward and Volta whirled toward him. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You just seemed...tired.”

  “Not especially.” Her gaze went out over the junkyard to the horizon. “I talked to Emma.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Busy. My sister-in-law, Stacy, is staying with her while we’re traveling.”

  “That’s nice.” At her frown he asked, “Isn’t it?”

  Volta shrugged. “Stacy is not my biggest fan.”

  “Oh?” He had a hard time believing anyone could dislike Volta.

  “She, uh, didn’t want me to marry Wade.”

  “Why not?”

  “She said we were rushing it. Accused me of trapping her brother.”

  “You mean—”

  “No, I wasn’t pregnant. She thought I was pressuring Wade to marry me quickly before he had the chance to change his mind. Really, though, Wade was the one who was in a hurry. He said he knew the first day he met me that I would be his wife, and there was no reason to wait.” Volta took a few steps away before turning to face Scott. “He never put things off. Sometimes I wonder if he’d had a premonition that he would die young.” She shrugged. “Once we were making dinner and I mentioned a new Turkish restaurant we should try sometime. He insisted we put the half-cooked chili in the refrigerator and go out for dinner that night.”

  He chuckled. “Was it good?”

  “Delicious.”

  He thought about his conversation with Tom Jefford. “Your husband was a lucky man.”

  “You think so?” She seemed unconvinced.

  “I do. He went after what he wanted and lived life to th
e fullest. And he had you.”

  She smiled. Almost to herself she whispered, “But was that a blessing or a curse?”

  “What do you mean?” Scott asked.

  “I... Never mind. It’s not important.” She moved to the edge of the balcony and stood stiffly.

  “It sounds important.” He followed her and put his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t pull away. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m on your side.”

  She shook her head. After a few moments, she spoke. “Wade was always so good to me. The first year we were married when we lived in an apartment, he used to start my car in the winter so it would be nice and warm for me to drive to work. Every morning, even when I worked on weekends, and he could have slept in.”

  “I’m sure he wanted to do that, to see you smile.” Scott knew how her smile could brighten anyone’s day.

  “Yes,” Volta agreed. “He always wanted me happy. And I did my best to make him happy, too.”

  “He sounds lucky to me.”

  “But was he happy?” She stepped away from his touch before she turned and met Scott’s eyes. “I loved him. I did. But did I love him enough? I did all the right things, went through all the right motions. He said he was happy, but he would have said that anyway because he never wanted to upset me. I was never sure how he was feeling because I never felt the same connection I felt...” She looked down, but not before Scott saw the truth in her eyes.

  “The connection you felt with me.”

  She raised her chin as though she intended to deny it, but then she whispered, “Wade was my husband. Shouldn’t I have felt closer to him than anyone else in the world?” Her eyes glistened. “Didn’t I owe him that?”

  Scott spoke softly. “I don’t know. I don’t have much of a frame of reference for what constitutes a successful marriage. But I know what a bad one looks like, and it isn’t even close to what you’ve described.”

  A single tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away with the back of her hand as if denying her tears. Denying her right to be sad.

  Scott hated to see her hurting. He took her into his arms and held her until the trembling stopped.

  He smoothed a lock of hair away from her face. Did she really think any man lucky enough to spend every day with her could be anything but happy? If only... But Scott had made his choices. “I stand by my statement. He was a lucky man.”

  “I was the lucky one.” Volta sniffed. “He was there for me, every single day. He would have been such a good dad. I hate that Emma never got to know him.”

  Every single day. That was what counted, wasn’t it? Not attraction. Not some vague connection. She’d married a man who was there for her. Every. Single. Day. She’d married the right man. The right father for her child. It wasn’t fair that Volta had lost him, that Emma was growing up without her dad. But then, Scott had seen enough to know that life wasn’t always fair. If Wade had suffered any regrets before he died, Scott felt certain that marrying Volta wasn’t one of them.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE REST OF the trip was a great success. Delores indeed had lots of suggestions. Good suggestions. The other people they visited filled in the blanks about the sort of support they needed. Scott felt like he had a handle on the holes in the system that the Travert Foundation might be able to help plug.

  In fact, everything had gone so smoothly that Mike dropped them off in Fairbanks almost three hours earlier than they’d expected. While they waited in line at the rental car desk, Scott looked at his notes. “If I’d realized we’d be done this fast, I’d have scheduled the other two doctors I need to talk to in Fairbanks for today instead of tomorrow morning.”

  “Why not give them a call?” Volta suggested. “They might be available to meet with you.”

  “Good idea.” The person in front of them finished, and they stepped up to the counter. Volta showed their driver’s licenses and collected the keys while Scott made the calls. She was right; both doctors agreed that if he could get there within twenty minutes, they’d meet with him.

  The doctors could only give him an hour, but Scott was able to get the information he was hoping for, as well as a sense of how supportive they might be of new services and ideas. Once they’d finished the interview, he and Volta left the hospital, but stopped outside. “I can’t believe we’re this far ahead of schedule. Do you want to check into the hotel now?”

  “You know, it’s not quite four o’clock. It’s less than five hours to Talkeetna. Why don’t we cancel our reservations here and drive down this evening?” she suggested.

  “Will we find a place to stay at the last minute?”

  “Maybe. Let me call.” She found a number in her contacts and dialed. “Hi, Nate, it’s Volta.” She listened for a moment. “Yes, tomorrow afternoon was the plan, but we’ve finished up early and were thinking of driving down from Fairbanks tonight. Is Minnie up from Arizona yet?” She smiled and gave Scott a thumbs-up. “Yes, if you don’t mind, that would work out great for us. The window box?” She laughed. “Sounds perfect. We’ll see you in the morning, then. Thanks, Nate.”

  She ended the call. “We’re in. Minnie Macon is a doctor in Arizona who comes up to help staff the clinic during the summer, but she’s not due until next week. Nate says we can stay in her apartment over the clinic. He’s going to leave us a key.”

  “In the window box, I gather?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “He says not to worry, that he’s a better doctor than he is a gardener. Whatever that means.”

  “And he’ll have time to meet with us in the morning?”

  “Yes, before he opens the clinic. I’ve always loved Talkeetna. My whole family comes up for the Bluegrass Festival every summer. In fact, my brother named his dog after the town. Why don’t we plan to eat a late dinner there? I’ve got snacks in my purse to tide us over.”

  “Suits me.” They walked toward the rental car. “What kinds of snacks?”

  “Peanut butter crackers, trail mix—” she dug around in her magic handbag “—and M&Ms.”

  “That should do it.”

  Volta held out her hand for the keys. “Let me drive. We’ll be going right by Denali National Park, and with the clear weather this evening, there will be some spectacular views. You might as well enjoy them.”

  She was right. The hours went by quickly as they traveled the Parks Highway. Most of the time, the silver-leafed birches that lined the road cut off any view, but every so often they would hit a rise and see mountains in the distance, rugged peaks glistening with snow.

  “This would be a beautiful place to ride horses,” Scott said. “I wonder if they have horse trekking in Denali National Park?”

  “I think someone mentioned taking a riding tour out of Healy.” Volta looked over at a trailhead beside the Nenana River. “Emma would love that. Maybe I’ll bring her up sometime this summer.”

  “She’d be thrilled.” After Emma’s riding lesson, Scott was certain of that. Emma’s natural balance and agility served her well in riding, but it was her confidence and love of animals that were going to make her into an exceptional horsewoman one day.

  They passed a scenic pullout sign on the highway, and Volta stopped. “Sorry to make us later, but I need to call Emma before she goes to bed.”

  “No problem. I’ve been wanting to take some pictures.”

  While she dialed, he enjoyed the view. The sun had traveled to the northwest, and the rugged ridges of the towering mountains cast purple shadows across the snowy blanket. He snapped a few photos, admiring the majesty of the mountains. He took a pouch of Volta’s trail mix from his pocket, shook a few pieces into his palm and ate them.

  “Hi, sweetie. How was your day?” Volta listened for a long time, smiling as she did and making little noises of encouragement. “That’s really good. Yes, I’ll be there for field day. It should be fun.”

 
Volta listened a little longer before telling Emma a few things about the trip. “I saw some of the sled dogs that ran in the Iditarod last year. Yes, they seemed very nice. And guess what? I found you a kuspuk. One of the women at Porcupine makes them for sale, and she had one just your size.” She laughed. “Of course it’s pretty. It’s blue and light purple and it has purple rickrack. No fur. It’s a summer kuspuk.”

  Volta pointed to a dark-headed blue jay watching from a nearby tree. Scott tossed his last peanut onto the ground. The bird swooped down to grab it.

  “I’ll be home tomorrow. We’re spending the night in Talkeetna. Of course we’ll visit the mayor. Day after tomorrow? I don’t know, sweetie. He might be busy. He has a whole lot of writing to do.”

  After a long pause, Volta asked Emma to hang on. “She wants to know if she can fit in a lesson day after tomorrow. I told her you might be busy, but...” Volta shrugged.

  Scott grinned. “Let me talk to her.” He took the phone from Volta. “Hi, Emma. It’s Scott.”

  “Hi. Mommy says you’re coming home tomorrow, so can we ride the next day?”

  “That’s fine with me. I’ll have to call the stables and make sure your horse is available, though.”

  “When can you do that?”

  Scott checked his watch. “They won’t close for another twenty minutes. I’ll call now and see if I can reserve the time. Here, talk with your mom while I make the call.” He handed off the phone and pulled his out. The stables had a two-hour spot available on Saturday afternoon, so Scott reserved it.

  He gave Volta a thumbs-up. “Four thirty Saturday.”

  She smiled. “He says the lesson is at four thirty. Okay, I’ll tell him. No, I think you should do that. All right, I will. Don’t hang up, I need to talk to Aunt Stacy. I love you to infinity plus one. Good night.”

  After getting a progress report from her sister-in-law, Volta hung up. “Emma says, and I quote, ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ And I’m supposed to hug you.”