The Alaskan Catch

by Beth Carpenter

  He thought about who he might ask along. He knew a couple of guys who worked the slope and would be off this rotation. Jeffrey just got married in May, so probably wouldn’t be inclined to spend his time off away from his new bride. Graham was always game for a fishing trip, but he was a talker, and Sam wasn’t in the mood to listen to his views on the state of the world for five days. Chris was out, obviously.

  Maybe Sam should just go by himself. He’d never done more than a two-day float alone, but he needed time to think, to get his bearings. He’d floated Brazzle Creek a dozen times, so there shouldn’t be anything unexpected he couldn’t handle. Yeah, a few days alone on the creek might be just what he needed.

  Dana wandered outside and stood with her hands on her hips, looking over the blue inflatable. “So, this is your raft.”

  “This is it.”

  “How do you get it inside the plane?”

  Sam laughed. “I let the air out of it. I pump it up again once I get there.”

  “By hand? It’s what, about sixteen feet long? That must take a while.”

  “It’s a big pump.” He tightened a clamp on his oar frame. “Did you find a flight?”

  “I found a couple. With so little notice, I’ll have to fly at about two in the morning.”

  “You’ll find the airport surprisingly busy then. Did you book it?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to see if it mattered to you whether I went tonight or tomorrow.”

  Frankly, he didn’t want her to go at all, but he couldn’t tell her that. “Either is fine.”

  “Okay.” She turned toward the house.

  “Dana?”

  She looked back over her shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Want to come on the float trip with me?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. She had zero experience with primitive camping. She would probably be miserable if she did come, and make him miserable, too. And yet, a part of him still hoped she’d say yes.

  She blinked. “Your fly-in five-day trip down Brazzle Creek?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Sure, if you want to.” But he had to be honest with her about the conditions. “But there will be mud. And mosquitoes. And no toilets or showers for a week. And the water’s cold. But if you want, you can come.”

  Dana laughed. “Sam, it’s a good thing you don’t sell used cars for a living. Yes, I’d love to see your wild river.”

  In spite of himself, his mouth stretched into a grin. “You can take another week before you go home?”

  “I shouldn’t, but I’m going to. When will I ever have another opportunity like this?”

  “Well, okay, then. Ursula has some stuff stored in the downstairs closet. You might want to take a look and see if it fits you. If not, we’ll go shopping and get you kitted out.”

  “I’ll go look.” She started toward the house, but looked back, and the sparkle in her eyes made him glad he’d offered his impulsive invitation. “Sam?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.” She almost skipped into the house.

  This was probably a big mistake, but maybe it would be exactly what he needed: a cold splash of reality. He could take her to the wild parts of Alaska, the parts he loved best, and she’d hate it. At the end of the week, she would be glad to get back to civilization, he would be glad to see her go and that feeling deep inside him that whispered that Dana might have a place in his life would finally shut up.

  * * *

  FROM THE BACK of Sam’s pickup, Dana grabbed a duffel filled with fleece, wading boots and wool socks. She wore waders and a slicker over thermal underwear and river sandals. Until yesterday, she hadn’t known there were such a thing as river sandals and thought waders were another name for cropped pants. A light drizzle fell from scattered clouds, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone.

  Sam and the bush pilot loaded the raft into the floatplane. They seemed to be old friends, chatting as they worked. Deflated, the tubes rolled into a surprisingly small package. A teenage boy helped ferry everything from the truck to the dock.

  Dana gazed across the calm water of Lake Hood. According to Sam, this was the world’s busiest seaplane base. As Dana watched, a blue plane took off across the lake, tilting to lift one float out of the water and then clearing the water and rising into the sky. Within a couple of minutes, it was a dot on the horizon. Once they had everything loaded, that would be them taking off in a tiny plane.

  Was she crazy? Her mother certainly seemed to think so when Dana called her yesterday to say she’d be out of cell phone range for a few days. In fact, she pleaded with Dana to return immediately because Ginny dared tell her she had no more money to spend for the month. That nagging angel of guilt Dana knew so well stomped on her shoulder and tried to force her home to Kansas, but for once she ignored its demands. Mom and her problems would still be there next week, but she might never have a chance like this again.

  Dana set the duffel beside the piles of equipment on the dock. Back in the truck, Kimmik stuck his nose through the window crack and gave a little woof to make sure they didn’t forget him.

  Sam reached for the ice chest. “Dana, could you get the dog and lock up the truck, please?”

  “Sure.” She hurried to comply, while Sam and the pilot arranged the rest of the gear in the plane. She returned with Kimmik on a leash.

  “Bear spray?” the pilot asked Sam.

  Sam handed him a bag and he put it into a hatch in one of the floats.

  “Guns unloaded?”

  “Yes.”

  Guns? They had guns? She’d helped Sam pack but hadn’t seen everything that went into the various bags. Hopefully, they wouldn’t need them. Dana had never fired a gun in her life.

  The pilot turned to Dana and looked her over. “What do you weigh, about one-ten?”

  “Uh, about.” Was guessing her weight his idea of a conversation starter?

  “Okay. You ride beside me.” He turned to Sam. “You and the dog go in the back.”

  Oh, he was balancing the load. She stepped closer to the plane. Sam stood on the dock beside the open door and reached for her hand. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Last chance to back out.”

  Dana’s stomach threatened to abandon her body, but she managed a smile and shook her heard before she climbed into the plane. Sam made sure her harness was securely buckled and then loaded Kimmik into the back seat and strapped him in. The dog’s tail thumped against the seat.

  Dana forced herself to take slow breaths in and out. Hey, Kimmik had done this before and he was wagging his tail. If the dog didn’t mind, how bad could it be?

  Sam and the pilot climbed in. Before he buckled, Sam leaned forward to pat her on the shoulder. She gave him a thumbs-up, and he rewarded her with a grin. The pilot handed them each a set of headphones.

  After completing his checklist, the pilot taxied away from the dock and moved into place. Dana dug her fingernails into her palms as the engines revved and the plane skimmed across the water. Sucking in her breath, she stared determinedly at her lap as the plane lifted from the lake and rose into the sky. Once it was clear they were flying, she found the courage to look up. The pilot tossed her an amused glance.

  She looked through the windshield, or whatever you call it on an airplane. Across the inlet, a sprinkling of white windmills rose from a dark carpet of spruce. The tall buildings of downtown grew smaller, and then they crossed some mountains and the city was gone.

  From the air, Alaska was even greener, with wide swathes of deep loden interspersed with blue lakes and rivers. Mountain peaks above the tree line still held patches of snow. Two big mountains rose in the distance, and they seemed to be flying right toward them. They looked familiar.

  “That’s Foraker on th
e left, Denali on the right.” The pilot’s voice came through her headphones. The mountains grew as they came closer. She’d thought Denali was spectacular from the ground, but it was even more amazing from up here. The peaks still rose far above them, and she was beginning to wonder if they shouldn’t fly higher to avoid crashing into the side of the mountain. Instead, they started descending toward a smallish lake. A gravel shoreline gradually came into focus.

  Dana’s stomach clenched once again as the plane seemed to drop precipitously, but they glided onto the water as smoothly as a duck. The plane slowed and turned, eventually pulling up beside a gravel spit and stopping. Sam jumped from the plane.

  He opened the door and released Kimmik, who leaped joyfully onto the gravel and immediately started to sniff around and mark his territory. Sam reached across and helped her unbuckle. Dana tried to climb from the plane but found her legs were unsteady. Sam caught her and set her firmly on the gravel bar, keeping his hands on her waist.

  “Okay?”

  She willed her legs to work and, hallelujah, they did. “I’m fine.” Now that she was on solid ground once again, she was better than fine. She felt elated. Along the way, they’d flown out of the clouds and the sun warmed her shoulders and glinted off the water. She pulled the visor of her baseball cap lower over her eyes.

  It only took about thirty minutes to unload the floatplane. The pilot climbed into the plane. “You should have the river all to yourselves for now. The next group we have scheduled is in three days, and I’ll pick you up at the lower lake in five. Right?”

  “Sounds good. See you then.” Sam came to put his arm around Dana’s shoulders while they watched him take off across the lake. The noise of the engines faded into a distant whine, and then the plane was gone, and they were alone.

  The silence after the roar of the plane highlighted just how alone they were, but as she listened, Dana started to hear other noises. Birds chirped in the trees at the edge of the lake, Kimmik rustled through the leaves of the reeds growing in the edge of the water and a familiar and unwelcome hum whined near her ear.

  Sam slapped his hand against her neck and drew it back with a splatter of blood across it. “I’ll find the mosquito repellant.”

  Once they had both applied a generous coating of the helpful liquid, Sam unrolled the raft tubes and set up the pump. It looked like the one Chris used to fill up his basketball when they were kids, except bigger. Both Sam and Dana shed their jackets in the sunshine. She watched him pump up the tubes, his movements smooth and efficient. His biceps flexed with each stroke against the sleeves of his T-shirt.

  He stopped to catch his breath.

  Dana handed him a water bottle. “Do you want me to take a turn?”

  He grinned. “Sure, go ahead.”

  Dana stepped on the protrusions on the bottom as she had seen Sam do, pulled out the plunger and pushed it down. It had a lot more resistance than she expected. After ten strokes, she was panting. By fifteen, she had to stop and rest.

  Sam finished his drink and set the bottle down. “My turn.”

  Dana stepped out of the way and tried to think of how to be helpful. “Maybe I should, I don’t know, gather firewood or something?” That’s what people did when they camped, right?

  “We can pick up firewood when we camp, but go ahead and explore. There are some interesting burled trees just over that rise. Don’t wander far, though.” Sam winked. “I may need you to do another round of pumping.”

  “No problem. I figure at the rate I pump, we’ll be done by Christmas at the latest.” She started to walk toward the forest.

  “Dana.”

  She turned back. “What?”

  He tossed a small pouch her way. “Bear spray.”

  “There are bears here?”

  “Possibly. Take Kimmik, too.”

  “Can he fight off a bear?”

  Sam grinned. “No, but if he takes off running, you’d better run, too.”

  Sam was kidding. Right? There were bears in Alaska, of course, but they wouldn’t be here. On this river. Where there were salmon coming to spawn. Duh. Of course there would be bears. She was starting to understand about the guns.

  “Actually, wait a second.” Sam fumbled in a bag, pulled out a whistle on a lanyard and hung it around her neck.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Just a good idea in case you get lost or anything. Three blasts is the standard distress call.”

  “Three blasts. Okay, then.”

  She carefully read the instructions on the bear spray before attaching it to her belt. Feeling armed and dangerous, she hiked into the woods. She found the trees he’d mentioned, with odd swellings on the trunk. One looked almost like an apple-cheeked grandmother. Dana was considering fetching her cell phone to snap a picture when she heard something moving in the brush beside her.

  Kimmik froze, staring into the bushes. They rustled again, and Kimmik barked and launched himself into the woods.

  “No, Kimmik. Come back.” Dana grabbed the bear spray from the holster and followed. Kimmik barked again, and she saw a flash of movement in the tree above him. A squirrel sat on a limb barely out of his reach, scolding the dog. Dana let out a huge breath and re-holstered her bear spray.

  Before long, Kimmik lost interest in the squirrel and followed her willingly back to the raft, where Sam had made noticeable strides in inflating the tubes.

  He smiled at her. “Find anything interesting?”

  “Those trees. They look like something from an enchanted forest. And Kimmik treed a militant squirrel.”

  “I’m sure he enjoyed that. Why don’t you pull up a campstool and relax?”

  “Okay, but let me know if you want me to take a turn pumping.” She found the aluminum tripod stools in the heap and perched a little up the gravel bar, out of Sam’s way. A duck, followed by a row of fuzzy ducklings, appeared from the reeds, and Kimmik jumped to his feet, sending the mother duck scooting back toward cover.

  “Down, Kimmik.” At Sam’s command, the dog dropped to the ground, but his quivering muscles made it clear it went against all his Labrador instincts.

  Behind the lake, the slopes of Denali rose into the sky, broken patches of clouds clinging to the mountain like lint, even though the rest of the sky remained clear. The raft tubes looked full to her, but Sam continued to work the pump. She half-heartedly offered to take a turn, but he waved her away. Finally, he pressed on the tubes and seemed satisfied with their firmness. “Done.” Sam wiped his forehead with the tail of his T-shirt.

  “That was a lot of work. What happens now?”

  “Now I assemble the frame, load the raft and we raft for a few miles to our first night’s camp.”

  Dana stood. “Can I help?”

  “Sure. Can you find the screwdriver in that green bag?”

  She scurried over and found the tool he asked for. He assembled a bunch of metal pipes and tightened the clamps holding them together with the screwdriver. Dana handed him parts as he asked for them. Two horseshoe-shaped pieces flanked a low seat in the center of the frame. He strapped the frame to the raft tube and pushed the raft to the edge of the water before loading in the ice chest and strapping it down.

  They formed a team, with Dana bringing the various bags and equipment and Sam securing them to the raft or the frame. It didn’t take her long to realize everything that went into the raft except for the three of them had to be strapped in. She tried not to think about what they might be facing that would require this kind of secured attachment.

  Sam handed her a PFD and pulled one on himself, and even one on the dog. From the big bag that had been on the floor of her closet, he pulled out two helmets and handed her one.

  “What’s this for?”

  Sam grinned. “What do you think? To protect that valuable brain of yo
urs.”

  “From what?”

  “Hopefully nothing, but in case you decide to take a swim, I don’t want your head coming in contact with any rocks.” His face turned more serious. “If you should ever end up in the water, keep your head up and try to keep your feet downriver with your knees bent in case you need to push off from sweepers or boulders.”

  “Sweepers?”

  “Fallen trees.” Her fear must have shown on her face because he stepped closer and touched her cheek. “It’s okay. I’ve never flipped a boat yet. This is just a precaution. You don’t need to put it on until we get to the white water later this afternoon. It’s nothing too scary, just some mild rapids.”

  “This afternoon?”

  He nodded. “Tomorrow, we’ll go through a rock garden with some class-four rapids.”

  Class four. Whatever that meant. Better not think about it yet. She looked at him for reassurance. “But not today?”

  “Nope. Today’s class three at the most.” He reached for both her hands and held them in his. “Are you ready to get started?”

  If she wasn’t, it was going to be a very long week. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” He gave her hands a squeeze and released them. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SAM GOT KIMMIK settled into the back of the raft with the gear and Dana in the front, facing him. He pushed off the gravel bar and climbed in, arranged himself in the seat and reached for his oars. A good long stroke and they launched into the current.

  Dana’s knuckles were pale from her grip on the grab lines running around the perimeter of the boat, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back. Funny girl, scared of bears, scared of the river, and yet she’d still chosen to come with him. Tommy once told him courage was being afraid and acting, anyway. If so, she had it in spades.

  The river ran slow here. Sam rotated the raft, turning his back downstream, and established an easy rhythm rowing to ferry them toward tonight’s campsite. His mind automatically noted obstacles and danger points, and he avoided them. He’d made this trip a dozen times and knew the river as well as he knew his own name, and yet every trip was unique. Differences in water levels due to heavy snows or early thaws could expose or hide boulders. Floods and storms could drop trees across the river. It was good to stay alert, even in this relatively gentle section of water.