“I know. You can’t go wrong with dancing moose.”
“A classic motif.” He hung her sweater over the back of a chair.
Volta lay on the couch and pulled the covers up under her chin. “Good night, Scott.”
He bent to drop a kiss on her forehead, made his way to the hallway and flicked off the light. When he looked back, he could just make out the shape of Volta’s face, against the dark cloud of hair spread on her pillow. “Good night, Volta. Sleep well.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VOLTA WOKE THE next morning to the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee, and if she wasn’t mistaken, vanilla. She opened one eye. Scott was perched on the coffee table beside the couch, waving a take-out cup under her nose. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Is that a vanilla latte from Duce Goose?”
“It is.”
She sat up, accepted the cup and took a sip. “Mmm.”
He picked up another cup from the table and drank from it. “This is good coffee.”
Volta took another swig. “Any coffee I don’t have to get out of bed and make is good coffee. This is bliss.”
He grinned. “I brought you a muffin from the coffee cart. Or we can go out for breakfast and save the muffin for later if you’d rather.”
“What kind of muffin?”
“Cranberry almond. I already finished mine. They’re good.”
“Yum. Gimme.” She set her coffee on a coaster. “I mean, yes, please, I’d like a muffin. It was thoughtful of you to bring me breakfast.”
He winked. “It’s okay. Emma isn’t here. You don’t have to set a good example.” He stood and headed for the door. “I’ll go for a walk around town while you dress.”
“You showered? I didn’t even hear you.”
“Good, I’m glad I didn’t disturb you. We’re supposed to be at the clinic downstairs in forty-five minutes. Does that give you enough time?”
“More than enough.” She could be dressed and ready to roll in less than a minute if necessary. Forty-five minutes to shower, dress and eat was luxurious. “Thanks, Scott.”
“For what?”
“Breakfast. Setting up the meeting. Letting me sleep in.”
“No problem. See you soon.” He smiled again before slipping out the door.
Volta yawned and took another sip of her coffee. She loved, loved, loved vanilla lattes, but she seldom indulged in them. Too many calories. Too expensive. But Scott remembered how much she used to enjoy them. In Hawaii eleven years ago, coffee stands weren’t on every street corner the way they were in Anchorage now, but he would regularly walk several blocks out of his way to bring her favorite coffee drink.
And now he was doing it again. Bringing her coffee. Letting her sleep. Taking care of her. She was so used to being the person who took care of everyone else, it felt rather odd to be the one taken care of. But in a nice way.
She lingered over the muffin and coffee, and then, after a glance at the clock, jumped into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, she’d finished dressing and was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, when she heard the door shut.
“Volta?” Scott called.
“In here. I’m ready.” She packed the brush in her bag and dragged it into the living room. He was leaning against the door, thumbing through a paperback book with a bloody knife on the cover he’d no doubt found at the used book store a couple of blocks away. Scott had always been a fan of old mysteries.
He looked up, letting his eyes roam from her toes to her face. He smiled, as though she’d made his day just by being in the same room. He set the book on the kitchen counter. “You look nice.”
Volta glanced down. She wore plain khaki pants and a blue-green shirt. Maybe it was a step up from scrubs or the flight suit, but hardly runway fashion. However, the shirt was one her brother’s girlfriend, Sabrina, had designed, with curved seams that followed her shape and buttons with an iridescent sheen like a mallard’s head. “Thank you. Is Nate here yet?”
“I saw a rusty green Jeep pull up in front.”
“That’s him. Let’s go.”
Nate greeted them and hugged her like the old friend he was. Since he’d come in early before the clinic opened, they were able to talk uninterrupted for almost an hour. Scott got answers to all his questions and Nate had some ideas to offer, as well. Ten minutes before opening time, Nate’s receptionist, Zoe, arrived and started banging around the office, opening windows and checking rooms.
“That’s my cue. I know I have at least two people coming in as soon as we open, but if you have more questions I can try to find time for you later this morning.”
“I guess we’ve covered it.” Scott handed Nate a card. “If you have questions or ideas for me, I’ll be in Anchorage another week or so, working on the report. Thanks for making time to talk with me.”
“Sure. I appreciate your finding out what’s needed first instead of jumping in and duplicating other efforts. It sounds like a good project.”
The men shook hands. Volta hugged Nate again. “Thanks. And thanks for letting us use the apartment. I’ll drop off the key with Zoe before we go. Give Brit my love.”
“Will do.”
She and Scott left Nate’s office and stepped into the reception area. Zoe called, “Volta, hi. I thought you were coming in this afternoon.”
“We were.” Volta crossed to the window. “But we finished early and drove down last night. Zoe, this is Scott.”
“I know. We talked on the phone when he was setting up the meeting.”
“Zoe already gave me some good feedback about her experience with prenatal care,” Scott explained.
Volta waited for them to exchange greetings and then asked Zoe, “How’s everything? Is that baby crawling yet?”
“Crawling? He’s walking. Only nine months old, and he’s already into everything.”
“Sounds like you have your hands full.”
“You said it. So you’re all finished with Nate? I don’t need to schedule anything for later?”
“Nope, we’re all done.”
“What are your plans for the day?”
“We’re stopping off in Willow on the way back to Anchorage,” Scott told her.
“When?”
He consulted his notes. “Our appointment isn’t until four. I thought I’d call and see if we can move it up.”
“Or,” Zoe said with a mischievous smile, “you could take advantage of being ahead of schedule and play hooky for a while. Roger is doing a preseason flight today to check out conditions and I’m sure he’d be willing to let you tag along.”
“On the glacier?” Volta asked. She’d always wanted to do a glacier landing but could never justify the expense.
“Yeah. I’ll give him a buzz, make sure it’s still on.” She pulled out her phone and walked away from the window to make the call.
Volta turned to Scott. “What do you think? You want to do a glacier flight? Or should we stick to business?”
“What kind of flight are we talking about, exactly?”
“Roger, Zoe’s husband, is a pilot. He flies Denali climbers to base camp, but his main income is flying tourists to see the sights and land on the glacier. I’ve heard it’s spectacular.”
Scott grinned. “You really want to do this, don’t you?”
“I’d love to, but you’re the guy in charge. If we should move on down the road, we can.”
He shrugged. “They’re not expecting us in Willow until later and I don’t even know if they could see us early.”
Zoe came back. “Roger says he’d love to have you. Can you be at the airport in an hour?”
Volta looked at Scott. He nodded. “We’ll be there,” Volta told Zoe. “That gives us time to walk around downtown.”
Zoe came from behind the reception window and crossed the
room to click on the open sign and unlock the door. “Are you going to introduce Scott to the mayor?”
“That’s the plan.” Volta opened the door and held it for a man sneezing into a tissue to enter. “Thanks, Zoe. This should be great.”
“Enjoy.” Zoe waved goodbye before turning to the man. “Hay fever starting early, Peter?”
* * *
SCOTT HAD NEVER expected this assignment to include a glacier landing. He felt behind his ear to make sure the patch he’d applied before the flight was still in place. These patches were good for three days, so that should get him through this flight. The sun felt warm on Scott’s face as he strolled alongside Volta on the way downtown. He reached for her hand and she gave his a squeeze.
Downtown was a relative term. Downtown Talkeetna was more like a grassy meadow with a ring of cabin-like buildings at the edges. Volta led Scott into what seemed to be a combination souvenir store and ice cream shop. It was empty except for a man sweeping the area next to the cash register. “Good morning. I’ll bet you’re here to meet the mayor.”
Volta grinned at him. “Yes, sir. I’ve visited Mayor Buddy Jasper many times, but I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the new mayor.”
“Mayor Tips isn’t quite as gregarious as Buddy Jasper, but he’s learning. Right this way.” The man set his broom aside and led them toward the back of the store.
Scott looked at Volta and raised his eyebrows. “The mayor hides in the storeroom?” he whispered.
“You’ll see,” she whispered back.
The stepped up to an alcove, where a young brown-and-fawn cat lay sleeping on the seat of a chair. “Meet Mayor Tips. He served as Buddy’s apprentice for a year.”
Scott chuckled. “Mayor Tips, huh?”
“Duly elected in a completely official unofficial write-in election.” He chuckled. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted.”
The mayor opened one blue eye and regarded them. Apparently deciding Volta was worth waking up for, he yawned, and then stretched, doubling the length of his body. He reached out with one back foot, and then the other. Finally, he stepped forward and rubbed his jaw against Volta’s hand.
She stroked the length of his body. “You’re so soft.” The cat allowed her to stroke him twice more before rising onto his back feet and resting his front feet against her chest, demanding to be picked up.
Volta cradled him and moved closer to Scott. “Mayor Tips, I’d like you to meet Dr. Scott Willingham. He’s in Alaska for work, but I told him he couldn’t come to Talkeetna without meeting you.” She leaned closer to the cat’s head. “He’s a pretty good guy, even though he’s not from here.”
The cat held a paw toward Scott. Scott gently took the paw between his thumb and forefinger and shook it. “It’s an honor.”
The cat closed his eyes in a condescending answer to Scott’s greeting, and rubbed his head against Volta’s shoulder. She smoothed the fur along his back. She’d always loved animals. Scott had been surprised when she’d said she had no pets, but he could see that her job schedule would make it difficult. Just like his.
Soon, she set the mayor back onto his chair. “I suppose we’d better head out if we’re going flying.”
Scott bought a cat-shaped pewter brooch, figuring it was the least he could do to help the business that supported the town mayor and gave Volta so much pleasure. He pinned it to Volta’s shirt. “There. Now you’re official.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, admiring his gift.
They returned to the clinic to collect the car and their jackets. Volta drove them to the small airport and parked. Two men stood talking beside a red Beaver parked to the side of the runway. The plane rested on three wheels, but each wheel protruded through a ski. Volta waved, and the taller of the men waved back.
“Hi, Roger,” Volta said as they approached. “This is Scott Willingham. He’s a doctor with DEMA, in Alaska doing a study.”
“Hi. Zoe told me about you.” He offered his hand to Scott. Both men wore caps and shirts with the tour company logo. “I’m Roger Nelson. This is Tig Gustaf, another staff pilot. We’re doing a trial run today to check out conditions before we start four-a-day landings next week.”
Scott shook hands with both men. “This is a treat. I’ve flown in small planes, but I’ve never landed on a glacier.”
“Glaciers are cool.” Roger laughed at his own joke.
Tig groaned. “Do you say that to every single group you take up?”
“Aw, lighten up.” Roger poked him with his elbow. “It’s funny.”
“Lucky you’re a good pilot,” Tig said, shaking his head, “because you could never make it as a comedian.”
“Just get on the plane.” Roger gave Tig a good-natured shove. He shot a grin toward Scott and Volta. “I have to practice my tourist talk.”
Scott glanced over at Volta, who was chuckling under her breath. “Don’t lose your cool,” he whispered, which instantly made her snort with laughter.
“See,” Roger told Tig. “Funny.”
They loaded into the plane. Tig sat up next to Roger, leaving Scott and Volta their choice of the remaining back seats. They sat in the middle, beside the biggest windows, and put on their headsets. Once Roger finished his checklist procedures, they took off.
As soon as they cleared the trees, Denali and the other mountains loomed up ahead of them. They flew past the highway and spotted the cluster of lodges at the entrance to the national park. A gravel road led into the park, a faint line almost lost in a vast area.
A little further on, they flew over a valley. A milky river wound back and forth across the emerald-colored valley floor and disappeared between two peaks, one covered with snow and the other a peachy color. Behind the peaks, more mountains rose in shades of buff and purple and gray, all set off against streaks of brilliant green vegetation. Roger’s voice came over the headset. “These are the Polychrome Mountains, so named because of the vibrant colors in the various, uh—” he paused for a moment “—rocks.”
Tig’s laughter came over the headphone. “Geological formations.”
“That’s what I said,” Roger replied. “Rocks. And as we get further in, you can see several small glaciers tucked up in the steep-sided valleys here.”
Scott spotted the telltale parallel lines of a glacier winding between two peaks below a vast snowfield. They flew over it and came to another wide valley.
Roger continued his spiel. “That boulder you see all by itself on the right doesn’t seem too big, but it’s actually about the size of a school bus. It’s an example of a glacial erratic. See how it looks different from any of the rocks around it? That was because a glacier may have carried it a hundred miles or more before leaving it there.”
Volta leaned across Scott’s lap to see out his window. Her wide eyes and bright smile reminded him of how Emma looked at her birthday party. Volta flew over and around the Alaska wilderness for a living, and yet she still got excited about a flight-seeing adventure.
She pointed toward the lower slopes above the valley. Scott could make out a group of something, presumably animals, milling over a pass there. Tig validated his assumption. “There’s a herd of caribou on your right at about two o’clock.”
As they climbed higher, the mountains and glaciers became bigger. Tig pointed out the Muldrow Glacier, and the peaks of Denali and Foraker. “And there’s Ruth Glacier, our destination.”
The plane descended, flying between two rocky cliffs and following the Great Gorge, a steep section of glacier a mile wide. They passed over several huge crevasses before the skis touched down on the snowfields in the Ruth Amphitheatre. The plane slid to a stop, and Roger jumped out to open the doors and offer a hand to Volta. She hopped down, and Scott followed.
“It’s amazing,” Volta said, gazing across the expanse of the glacier.
Scott had to agree. It was easy
to see from the air that glaciers were simply rivers of ice, flowing ever so slowly downhill. What wasn’t apparent was that these weren’t normal-sized rivers. The glacier was at least a mile wide.
“How deep is the ice we’re standing on?” Scott asked.
“Twelve hundred meters, according to one measurement,” Roger said.
Tig added, “To give you perspective, the tallest building in the world is a little over eight hundred meters, and the Grand Canyon is a little over eighteen hundred deep at its lowest point.”
“What’s that?” Volta pointed to a tiny structure in the distance.
“That’s the Don Sheldon Mountain House. You know who Don Sheldon is?”
“A famous bush pilot, right?”
“Yes. He pretty much pioneered glacier landings. Anyway, he built that cabin in the sixties. Flew in all the materials strapped to the side of his Piper Super Cub or inside his Cessna 180.”
“Wow. Now, that is a private getaway,” Scott said.
“Walk around the glacier if you want,” Roger said. “When we bring the tourists, we usually stay around twenty minutes.”
Scott and Volta walked away from the plane. Even with their jackets, it was chilly walking over the snowfields, but invigorating. Scott captured a photo of the plane that had brought them in. He’d snapped a couple of exposures on his phone when something cold smashed against the back of his head.
He wheeled around in time to see Volta grinning while she packed another snowball. “Now you’ve gone and done it,” he warned, tucking his phone inside his pocket.
She laughed and threw the snowball, but he deflected it. He scooped up a handful and ran toward her, packing it as he went. She squealed and ran, but he threw the ball and hit her in the middle of her back. Since she was wearing a down jacket, it probably hardly registered, but she spun around and fired off a snowball, hitting him in the shoulder.
She was scooping up another handful of snow when he caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, no you don’t.”
“Oh?” She twisted in his arms until she was facing him. Her face, inches away, was too tempting. He bent to kiss her. Just as their lips touched, she pressed the snow into the back of his neck.
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