The Alaskan Catch

by Beth Carpenter

  Sam nodded. “It’s coming along. Slowly.”

  “But you’re making progress?”

  “Yes. We got the number fourteen spudded, finally. It’s not like Prudhoe Bay. Everything takes at least twice as long.”

  “Hard to work with those guys?”

  “That’s not it. They’re excellent engineers. It’s logistics. The equipment is old and not easy to come by, and there’s so much red tape.”

  “Any problem with the language barrier?”

  Sam grinned. “Haven’t you heard? Everybody in the world understands English if you speak it slowly and clearly enough. Seriously, I have a great assistant who speaks four languages. Puts me to shame.” His assistant was also convinced Sam might be a long-lost relative, but that was another story. “It’s just frustrating to plod through the bureaucracy.”

  “Well, keep it up a little longer. I can’t tell you about it yet, but there might be an exciting opportunity opening up before long. Are you married, Sam?”

  “No.” Sam’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Maybe this was the break he was looking for, a step closer to upper management.

  “Engaged, committed, whatever?”

  “No, none of those things.”

  “So whenever we need you to travel, you’re free to go?”

  “I am.”

  “Good.” Ethan nodded in satisfaction. “Just keep that passport current, okay?”

  “I will.” The elevator opened and they walked down the hallway to the conference room. He knew Ethan well enough to recognize the futility of asking for more information, but that passport comment sounded like another overseas assignment. While Sam would have welcomed a job in Alaska, everyone said overseas was the way to move up in the company, and Sam fully intended to move up. No matter what it took.

  * * *

  DANA DROPPED BY the log cabin visitor’s center downtown and picked up a few tips for sights to see in Anchorage from the friendly woman behind the desk. But after stepping outside into the sunshine, Dana ignored her suggestions of shopping and museums and instead took Sam’s advice to grab a reindeer dog from the stand in front of the courthouse and hike along the coastal trail.

  Most of the people in line for hot dogs seemed to be locals on their lunch breaks. She collected her hot dog with onions and peppers and strolled along the street, pausing under an enormous hanging basket of blue and gold flowers as she took the first bite. Sam wasn’t kidding—it was one of the best hot dogs she’d ever eaten. She found a bench and stopped to savor her lunch.

  Once she’d finished, Dana started walking. Past the courthouse and down the hill, a blue Alaska train pulled into the depot. Not far beyond, fishermen lined up along a creek. As she watched, a woman’s pole pulled into an arc. A man nearby brought a net and helped her land a salmon. She did a little happy dance and hugged him. All this practically in the shadow of twenty-story buildings downtown.

  The coastal trail overlooked the ocean, as promised, but it wound through forest and behind homes with bloom-filled gardens along the way. Across the inlet, a row of mountains rose from shaggy spruce trees, parallel to the range that stretched behind the town. Dog walkers, bicyclists and skaters shared the trail, and she saw geese, ducks, seagulls and possibly a ptarmigan. At least it looked like the picture of the state bird on the pamphlet she’d picked up. The short walk Dana planned extended on until she realized if she didn’t head back, it would be evening before she made it to her car. Green and gorgeous. She could see why Chris had remained here all these years. But it didn’t explain why he never contacted her or why he changed his name.

  Ahead of her, a couple strolled along the pathway, holding hands. A puppy trotted along beside them on a leash. When the woman turned to point at a cluster of wildflowers, Dana saw that she was pregnant. Her husband smiled at her and touched her back as he listened to what she was saying. They looked happy.

  Dana smiled at them as she walked by. She used to wish for a husband and children and a waggly tailed dog, a normal family that ate dinner together and played board games and talked. But it didn’t happen. A few boyfriends came and went, but never anyone she could see making a life with. Not that she spent a lot of time worrying about it. Between working for her dad and watching after her mother, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to cry over might-have-beens. Although, sometimes she wondered what it would have been like if Chris hadn’t gone away.

  Maybe he’d be back tonight. Surely, once she’d explained the whole situation to him, Chris would agree to accept his place in the family. It wasn’t as if she was demanding much from him. She just wanted the truth. After that, she would look for this Petrov person. Her father was an honorable man. He wouldn’t want any unpaid debts lingering. Once she’d determined whether or not that claim had any validity, she could head home and get on with her life.

  At least one good thing came of Dad making Jerry manager. Now that Dana had quit her job at the equipment and tool rental, she was free to follow her original plan to teach. She loved teaching, loved watching the kids’ eyes light up when they grasped a concept. She’d have to do a semester or two to get her credentials up to speed first, though, so her inheritance would come in handy in the meantime.

  Once she had her teaching certificate, she could find a job at the high school in her hometown. And, of course, do her other job of making sure her mother’s house didn’t become so packed with junk as to become dangerous. When Dad was alive, he’d insisted all Mom’s stuff had to hide in the spare bedrooms or in the basement. The living room, kitchen and garage were off-limits as storage areas. But over the last month or two, Dana had been seeing an ominous number of bags and boxes starting to gather in the main rooms, faster than she could return them.

  She shook her head. One problem at a time. First Chris. Then this Petrov guy. Once all that was straight, she could worry about her mother.

  On her way back to the car, Dana strolled through the flower gardens in the town square. She loved flowers. Her yard in Kansas overflowed with perennials like coneflowers, irises and yarrow, but they seemed understated compared to the vivid flowers here. Who would have thought they’d bloom so well this far north? Dahlias as big as her head sprung up behind colorful clusters of snapdragons, edged with some sort of flowering cabbage and carpets of tiny blue flowers.

  The people downtown seemed to be an interesting combination of tourists, office workers and shoppers. They all looked purposeful and happy. Did any of them have crazy mothers and uncooperative runaway brothers? Or was that just her?

  She shrugged. It was a beautiful day. She couldn’t do anything until Chris came back, anyway, so she might as well put it out of her mind and enjoy her time in Anchorage. She pulled out her phone to snap a selfie in front of the fountain surrounded with magenta geraniums. Someday she might want it to remember the time she went to Alaska.

  * * *

  SAM TRANSFERRED A load of clothes from the washer to the dryer. The house was oddly silent without Chris or Kimmik rummaging around. It didn’t usually bother Sam to be alone, but for some reason, today was different. It was after five. Wonder where Dana had gotten to? Hopefully she wasn’t lost or anything.

  He frowned. Dana wasn’t helpless. In fact, two days ago, she’d threatened to shoot him. It was highly unlikely she’d come to any harm on a nice day downtown, surrounded by people. And yet here he was, worrying about her. Maybe Chris was right—Sam hadn’t been out with a woman for too long. He needed to get a grip.

  He was pulling the warm clothes from the dryer when he heard the garage door opening. He carried the basket upstairs, reaching the living room just as Dana bounced into the kitchen. Her bright smile assured him his worries were groundless.

  “Hi. How was your meeting?” She reached into the basket and started folding a towel as if folding clothes together was something they did every day.

 
“Fine. How was your day?” He pulled a pair of jeans from the basket.

  “Great. You were right. I loved the coastal trail and the hot dog was excellent.” She set down the towel and reached for what had once been a white T-shirt but was now faintly gray. “You really shouldn’t wash darks and lights together.”

  Sam shrugged. “Probably not, but I just want to get it done. I hate laundry.”

  “Really?” She smoothed the T and folded it into a neat square. “I like folding laundry.” She held up the shirt and sniffed. “I may be mildly addicted to the smell of dryer sheets.”

  Sam couldn’t help a little smile. Dana chattered on about the wildlife and scenery she’d seen during her hike as they worked, and before he knew it, the entire load lay neatly stacked in the basket. He had to admit, folding laundry wasn’t nearly as boring with good company.

  “Thanks. So, how about dinner at Moose’s Tooth?”

  “Moose’s Tooth? What’s that?”

  “A mountain.” He grinned. “More importantly, a pizza brewpub named after the mountain.”

  “Sounds great.”

  * * *

  AS USUAL, MOOSE’S TOOTH had a long line of folks waiting for a table, so he and Dana sat at the bar temporarily. The waiter gave Sam a calculating look before he delivered their drink orders. Dana took a sip of her raspberry wheat microbrew. “Nice.” She set the glass down and leaned forward. “So, tell me what you do in Siberia.”

  “I supervise a drilling program.”

  “Okay, but what does that mean?”

  Sam tried to explain the job as briefly as possible, but she kept asking questions and he found himself telling her more details about his work than he’d ever told anyone. When a table finally opened up for them, he realized he’d been doing all the talking.

  “Sorry. I usually don’t monopolize the conversation like this. I’m sure I’m boring you.”

  “No, you’re not. I had no idea how much engineering went into drilling oil wells. What happens after the well test?”

  “If it’s good, we put the well on production. If not, we try to figure out why and fix it. But that’s enough about my work. Tell me what you do.”

  “I worked in the office for my dad’s business, an equipment and tool rental company.”

  “Worked?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t work there anymore. I have my degree in math, as a teacher. I really loved being in the classroom during my student teaching, but Dad wanted me in the business, so I did that instead. It was okay, but I plan to teach now.”

  So, her father insisted on choosing her career. Controlling. Maybe that’s what drove Chris away. The waiter came to take their order. “Another beer?”

  Dana shook her head. “I’m still on this one.”

  “I’ll have a root beer.” Once the waiter left, Sam turned back to Dana. “So, do you have a teaching job lined up?”

  She gave a little head shake. “I’ll need to take some courses to get recertified. But tell me more about Alaska. Did you grow up in Anchorage?”

  Sam nodded. “I was born in Fairbanks, but we moved here when I was in elementary school.”

  “What is Fairbanks like?”

  “Smaller than Anchorage. Inland, on the Chena River, so warmer in summer, much colder in the winter. I went to the University of Alaska there.”

  “Is it as green as Anchorage?”

  “It’s nice, at least when the temperature’s above zero. Lots of cottonwoods growing along the river. It looks like a summer snow there sometimes when the trees are shedding.”

  “We have cottonwoods in Kansas, too, but it’s not this green and rugged. You’re so lucky to be a Native Alaskan.”

  “I am, although, it comes with its own set of challenges. Sometimes people make assumptions.”

  “Challenges.” She looked puzzled, but then her eyes widened. “Oh, because you’re Native American... I only meant you were born in Alaska.”

  “Oh.” Sam looked down at the table. “Sorry.”

  “No, don’t be. So you’re an Alaska Native?”

  “One-quarter Inupiat.” At her blank expression, he grinned. “Eskimo.”

  “Eskimo, really?” A slow smile spread across her face. “I think that’s pretty cool. Do you have a lot of special traditions or food or anything?”

  He shook his head. “Not me, personally. It was on my dad’s side and I never knew him. My mom wasn’t Native, so I don’t know much about it.”

  The waiter returned with his root beer. He noticed Dana looking at it thoughtfully. Fine. She might as well know up front he limited himself to one alcoholic drink a day. Living with his mother’s alcoholism had prompted him to set strict boundaries for himself.

  “I get that about people’s assumptions.” Dana sighed. “Some of the people I worked with assumed the boss’s daughter was just doing some make-work job and didn’t know anything about the business. When Dad got sick, I noticed the manager wasn’t keeping the parts inventory up-to-date, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I had to have Dad call him to get him moving.”

  “That must have been frustrating. At least in my job I have the authority to get things done.” Sam took a swig of his root beer. How did the conversation get so personal? He never whined like this. Time to lighten up.

  He smiled at Dana. “So, I’ve never been to Kansas. What’s it like there?”

  She told him about the town where she lived, mostly funny stories about her and Chris growing up together. It sounded like a television-worthy childhood, growing up in an old Victorian home with a big lawn.

  “It was about ninety-five that day, and Chris decided he didn’t want to mow the grass. He tied a rope onto a tree in the yard and hitched up the lawn mower to it. Then he strapped the levers down and went in the house for a drink while the lawn mowed itself. His theory was that the rope would wind around the tree getting shorter at each pass until it reached the tree, and he would just have to do the edges.”

  From the twinkle in her eyes, Sam could see disaster written all over this story. “So what happened?”

  “Somehow, the mower ran over the rope and cut it. By the time Chris came outside to check on it, it was halfway down the block and had mowed through six neighbors’ flower beds. He was grounded for a month.”

  Sam laughed. “I’m guessing he wasn’t too popular with the neighbors, either.”

  “Not so much.”

  The Thai chicken pizza arrived. Dana told him a few more stories while they ate. It was obvious she’d adored her older brother when they were growing up. What could have gone so wrong with his father that Chris would completely abandon his life and his sister? Sam had never pried into Chris’s previous life, but he was starting to wish he had. If he’d been lucky enough to have a sister, he couldn’t imagine leaving her behind.

  A familiar face appeared behind Dana’s shoulder. Marge Hansen, Ursula’s closest neighbor and best friend. She waved and came over to their table. “Hello, Sam.”

  “Hi, Marge. Dana, this is Marge Hansen. Marge, you remember my roommate, Chris? This is his sister, Dana Allen.”

  “Of course I remember Chris. The two of you thawed my pipes when we had that early cold snap winter before last. I’m glad to meet you, Dana.”

  “You, too. Actually, I’m Dana Raynott.” Sam blinked. Did he hear correctly? Dana extended her hand and smiled at Marge. They chatted for a few minutes, fortunately not noticing that Sam had lapsed into stunned silence.

  Marge turned back to Sam. “Goodbye, Sam. I’ll tell your auntie I saw you.”

  Once Marge left, Dana turned back and helped herself to another slice of pizza. “She seems nice.”

  “Your last name is Raynott?” Sam had to be sure.

  “Yes.” She raised her eyebrows at his tone.

 
“R-A-Y-N-O-T-T?”

  “Right.”

  “But you’re Chris’s sister. His name is Allen.” He knew he sounded like a simpleton, but he couldn’t seem to grasp what was happening.

  “Allen was Chris’s middle name. Apparently, he changed it legally somewhere along the way. I don’t know why.”

  “So Chris was a Raynott, too?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Why is that so unbelievable?”

  “It’s an unusual name.”

  “I know. I’ve never met anyone else with the same name. Why? Do you know another Raynott?”

  Sam shook his head. “No. Just caught me by surprise, I guess. So tell me the rest of the story about Chris’s football career.”

  Dana laughed. “It was over in the fifth grade. The first day of practice, Chris played receiver. He caught the ball, but when he turned around this two-hundred-pound twelve-year-old caught him and...”

  Sam nodded and smiled in all the right places, but his head was spinning. Raynott. There had to be a connection. But he’d known Chris for years and years. If anyone had asked him yesterday, he’d have said he would trust Chris with his life. And all that time, Chris had never let on that he was one of the dreaded Raynotts. It couldn’t be an accident.

  Dana kept chatting away. Whatever the big secret was, he’d lay odds she wasn’t in on it. Her panic when he arrived in the middle of the night was no act, and she was perfectly straightforward when she introduced herself to Marge. No, Dana didn’t know. But once Chris got home, he was going to have some major explaining to do.

  She trailed off as she finished the story. “Sam, is everything all right?”

  “Huh? Oh, fine. Sorry. I was just thinking of something I need to check into.”

  “Anything I can help you with?”

  “I don’t think so, but thank you.” He smiled. “So, are you ready to go?”

  “Sure, I guess so.” She set the half-eaten slice of pizza back onto her plate. “We can get a to-go box for the rest.”

  “Okay.” Sam signaled the waiter for the check. He knew he was being rude, rushing her out of there before she’d even had time to finish, but he needed to get home, where he could be alone and think.