Alaska Heart

by Christine DePetrillo

  I climbed onto my snowmobile beside him. “I’ve already got it organized, Dale, and what’s wrong with Brian?”

  “Nothing. Something. I don’t know.” He huffed out a breath. “Okay. Okay. Look, I know I’m being an asshole here. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry to me. “How well do you know this Brian character?”

  “Not well,” I admitted, “but he works for the magazine that got me into nature writing and offered me an incredible opportunity to get that little something extra for my story. So I took it. The better my article is, the more likely I’ll get that promotion when I…”

  As soon as the words came out, I understood where Dale’s annoyance was coming from. I let out a long sigh.

  “Dale, I have to go back to New York.” I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm. He didn’t shrug away, but he didn’t melt under my touch either.

  “Intellectually, I get that, Alanna,” he said after a heartbeat of silence. “Emotionally, after last night…after saying we’re in love with each other…I don’t know. I thought it could be different. I thought maybe you could stay.”

  “I never said I would stay. I can’t stay.” My stomach knotted at the words.

  “I know.” He looked ahead into the distance for a silent moment. “The thought of you going back to New York and maybe finding someone else…” He let out a frustrated breath as he looked back at me. “Why did we bother with this?” He motioned between us with his hand. The hurt in his eyes had changed to something else. Something dark. “Is this what you do?”

  “What?”

  “Play around with the natives. You know, for fun. Get them all into you and then run off back to New York.”

  “No, Dale, I—”

  “Is this a game to you? Because if it is, Alanna, I don’t want to play.” His voice was rough, his tone accusing.

  “Just a minute now,” I said. “What happened between us happened. I didn’t plan and plot. The fact you think I did means you haven’t got the slightest idea who I am.”

  “Maybe I don’t. A couple of emails isn’t enough to get to know someone, is it? I guess you don’t know me either.”

  Why did I feel like I did know him though? Better than I’d known anyone.

  Dale paced away from me, and the only thing that kept the tears stinging at the corners of my eyes from falling was anger. How could he think I would toy around with him and then flitter off to New York? That wasn’t me. I didn’t play around.

  Not at all how I pictured our good-bye, but here it was, right now. Probably better off. No sense in smoothing it all out and falling in deeper during the time I had left in Alaska. Made more sense to break it off now while Dale’s words still infuriated me.

  “I should probably go back to Moose Point for the rest of the week.” My voice was a shaky rasp and that irritated me.

  Dale merely nodded as he throttled his snowmobile and led the way back to his house. It was a lonely ride back, and I hated every minute of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Vince and Violet were nowhere to be seen when we arrived back at Dale’s. Couldn’t blame them. Who would want to be around two folks who had ended something magical, something once-in-a-lifetime, over pig-headed nonsense?

  While Dale put the snowmobiles away in the shed and fed the dogs, I went into the house and gathered my belongings. Talked myself out of crying. For now.

  As I came down the stairs from the bedroom, toting my suitcase and smaller bag, Gypsy met me at the bottom.

  “I guess this is the end of the line for you and me, pup.” I sat on the last step and patted Gypsy’s head when she rested it in my lap. She let out a small whimper, and I almost lost control. My throat stung, and my eyes were ready to spill, but I managed to keep it together.

  Gypsy nosed around my hands. Zynk struggled to his feet and limped over to see me.

  “You two take care of him, okay, even though he’s acting like a giant jerk.” I looked each of the dogs in the eyes. They always looked as if they understood what I was saying to them. I had come to love these dogs as well as their master. They both nuzzled me for a few more moments before retiring back to their basket to cuddle.

  I sat on the step a little longer and waited for Dale to come inside. After about fifteen minutes, it became obvious he wasn’t coming inside. He was waiting for me to leave.

  I never should have said I loved him.

  “No, saying that was right. I meant it. I mean it.”

  My composure was dangerously close to shattering, teetering on the verge of infinite sorrow and extreme anger. I picked up my bags, retrieved my laptop from the office, and, with a final pat for Gypsy and Zynk, I left through the garage.

  Dale leaned against the railing of his front porch. Achilles, Gypsy and Zynk’s pup, stood by his side. Dale didn’t wave. Didn’t try to stop me.

  That’s when the tears streamed.

  ****

  Bear raised an eyebrow at me as I passed by the front desk with all my stuff.

  “Don’t ask.” I didn’t stop for questions. Didn’t stop to be afraid of Bear. I rounded the corner instead and climbed the stairs. As I crested the top step and turned to head toward my room, I smacked into someone and dropped one of my bags.

  “What the fuck!” I shouted.

  “Alanna?” Brian gripped my shoulders to steady me as he backed up a few steps.

  I reached down for my dropped bag.

  “Let me get that.” Brian beat me to the bag. He shouldered it, adjusted his baseball cap, and took a long look at me.

  “What the hell are you staring at?” I so wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. I had a good cry to finish, and I was going to have it, dammit. Maybe I’d throw a few things too.

  “Are you okay?” He took my other bag from me. I was about to protest, but couldn’t do so without using every foul word I knew.

  “No, I’m not okay.” I brushed past Brian to head down the hall.

  “You looked as if you were having fun this afternoon on the snowmobiles with your Iditarod friend.”

  I stopped in front of my room and unlocked the door. I left it open, and Brian entered behind me. He set my stuff on the floor by the desk while I flopped onto the oversized bed. Funny how I’d thought that bed was the best I’d slept in when I had first arrived. I knew better now.

  The best bed was Dale’s.

  “I was having fun. A shitload of it. More fun than one person is probably allowed to have over the course of a couple of days. And now…” I stretched out my arms to either side of me on the bed. “And now I’m not having fun. My own fault. I got greedy. Didn’t use my head. Let things happen I shouldn’t have. I’m such a moron.” I sat up and shrugged.

  “You want me to get you something? A drink maybe?” Brian knelt in front of me.

  A drink made me think of Ram’s Den. Of Ram. Of Selia, Jake, and the boys. Sweet Goddess, I’d fallen in love with every damn one of them and now had to figure out a way to live without them. I couldn’t stop the sob that rose from my throat.

  “Alanna. What’s wrong?” Brian moved to sit next to me on the bed and slipped his arm around my shoulders.

  “Everything,” I cried. “Just everything.”

  Brian didn’t say anything as I rested my head on his shoulder and gave in to the bawling. He merely kept his arm around me and let me get salty tears all over him. I stopped twice, but the image of Dale on his front porch kept popping into my mind, and I’d get all torn up again.

  After what must have seemed like an eternity to poor Brian, I heaved in a huge breath and forced myself to regain composure. My lungs spasmed in my chest, angry about the abuse they had endured. I was positive eyeliner coursed down my cheeks. My nose ran. I ached all over.

  Patting my shoulder, Brian stood and disappeared into the bathroom for a minute. When he returned, he had a box of tissues in his hand. He held the box out to me, and I took several tissues to dab at my eyes and nose.

  “Thanks. I’m sorry. I didn�
�t mean to fall apart on you like that. I don’t usually cry like such a baby. I’m just mad at myself.”

  “No apologies necessary, Alanna.” Brian jammed his hands into his pockets as he looked at me.

  A slight shadow always hung over his face from the bill of his baseball cap. I never could get a good look at him. I had memorized every freckle on Dale’s face, knew where every whisker was, but Brian’s face was still a mystery.

  His eyes never seemed to change though. Always the same cool, distant blue. Dale’s changed color with his mood. They deepened to emerald when he was aroused, lightened to jade when he laughed, and apparently, went flat to olive when he was angry or upset.

  My lip quivered again with that last thought, and I cleared my throat, determined to not lose my grip again in front of Brian.

  “If you need to go another round, I can take it.” Brian tilted his head a bit so the light streaming in from outside bounced off his face for a minute. He had a compassionate smile, as if he understood the pain I was feeling. I must have looked a little too long though, because he shifted his head down, casting his face into the shadows once again.

  “No,” I said. “I’m done for right now.” I pulled a few more tissues from the box and neatened myself.

  “It’s probably none of my business, but were you and the Iditarod winner a couple or something?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Yeah,” I said. “A couple of idiots.” I let out another sigh, which sounded dramatic even to me. “You don’t want to hear about my stupid problems.”

  “It might make you feel better to air them out.” Brian pulled the desk chair over to sit across from me.

  “I guess.” Inhaling deeply, I began my tale of woe.

  “Dale and I have been emailing for about a year. He told me to come visit him after his win, which I declined, stating that he could be a psychotic Internet predator who’d kill me if I came here.”

  Brian snickered and for some reason that bugged me. I shot my gaze to his, and he fidgeted. “Sorry. Go on.”

  Brian’s foot tapped the floor as he waited. It distracted me.

  “Alanna?”

  “Yes.” I shook my head to clear it. “My boss at Gaia wound up sending me here anyway for work. I went to eat at Ram’s Den, and yes, I’ll admit I was looking for Dale. When I found him, we hit it off right away, because we knew a lot about one another from our email conversations. Then it snowballed from there, you know?”

  “And before you knew it, you were in love with him,” Brian finished.

  I nodded. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” My throat got tight again, and I grabbed two more tissues to have on standby.

  “So why aren’t you still staying at his place?” Now Brian fiddled with the bill of his cap as if sitting still in my room was too much for him to take.

  “We said goodbye today, I guess. After you...”

  “Shit, Alanna. Did I make trouble for you?” He reached out, grabbed my knee, and squeezed lightly until I looked at him.

  “I made trouble for me. I shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with him. I don’t live here. I have a life in New York I’ve got to get back to. It was ridiculous to love him.”

  He released his grip on me and sat back in the desk chair, looking a little relieved I wasn’t blaming him for my current misery. His foot began to tap again, grating on my nerves.

  “Look,” I said, “I need some alone time. Thanks for listening.”

  Brian stood, seeming to welcome my dismissal of him. “No problem. Tomorrow’s another day. Maybe the plane ride will put things into…perspective.” He chose the last word carefully before taking off his baseball cap, revealing the jagged, lightning bolt of a scar that sliced through his short, black hair. Whatever caused it must have been truly horrific.

  “I used to think small problems were big problems until this.” He ran a finger over the scar, shuddering as he touched it.

  “What happened?” I fixated on the scar. It looked so deep and not a stitch of hair grew over it.

  “Motorcycle accident,” he said. “It wasn’t pretty. Neither is this scar. I almost checked out for good.” He slapped his hat back on, looking uncomfortable, and walked toward the door of my room.

  “See you tomorrow,” I said.

  He nodded, and as I closed the door behind him, my writer’s imagination filled in all the gruesome details Brian had left out about his accident. Sometimes I wish I could shut that damn imagination off. It never did me any good. It made me see Brian fighting for his life in a hospital bed, scared and, for some reason, alone. It made me see a happily ever after with Dale that was not within reach. It made me see a life I couldn’t have.

  Sometimes, my imagination was too much.

  ****

  I must have dozed off in my clothes on the bed after Brian left, because at about one in the morning, I snapped awake, reaching out to the other side of the bed. Reaching out for Dale. When my hand came up empty, the events of the day crashed down around me. I rolled to my back and listened to the hollow, lonely sound of my own breathing.

  What was Dale doing right now? I tried picturing him in his bed. Maybe Gypsy was with him, keeping him company. And how was Zynk doing?

  “Don’t, Cormac. Just don’t.”

  I got up to use the bathroom and then sat at the desk. I pulled out my laptop and tapped my fingers as I waited for it to wake up. Nothing like a little mindless online surfing to drown your troubles. Thought about calling Meg, but wasn’t ready to hash through the entire episode again yet.

  Two emails worth reading popped up amongst the junk. Neither one was from Dale.

  eseaton:

  Opening looks fantastic. Can’t wait to read the finished piece.

  Any other time that email would have caused me to dance around the room. I didn’t feel like dancing now.

  mpetrisi:

  I miss your stupid ass around this place. I’d forgotten how we’re surrounded by morons over here! Good thing I’ve got Matt to act as a “night time diversion.” I’d lose my damn mind otherwise. ☺

  See you soon!

  Right.

  New York. Meg. Work. Home.

  That all made sense. Perfect sense. Getting tangled with a dog musher in Alaska made no sense. No sense at all. Told myself this from the beginning, so why didn’t I listen?

  ****

  My body was leaden when I awoke in the morning. I had no desire whatsoever to get out of bed. Waking up alone sucked.

  After sliding to the edge of the bed, I poured myself out, my feet cold against the hard wood floor beneath them. I scuffled to the bathroom and army crawled into the shower. Closing my eyes under the hot spray of water, I tried to summon my hidden reserve of energy, but that well was dry too. I was utterly defenseless against the pain in my chest that ached with each breath in, each breath out.

  I flipped off the water and stepped out of the shower without toweling off. I dripped all the way to my suitcase and pulled out whatever happened to be on top. I didn’t care what it was. It didn’t matter.

  Trudging back to the bathroom, I haphazardly brushed against a towel and slipped into my outfit. Jeans, blue sweater. Blue. Yeah, that was about right.

  I dried my hair and threw it back into a ponytail while my stomach grumbled loudly. Hunger. One problem easily fixed. I grabbed my wallet from my purse and opened the door to head to the resort’s food court. My foot, however, nearly knocked over a bottle of orange juice and a small brown bag at the threshold. I looked both ways down the hallway that stretched out in either direction, but found it completely empty. Kneeling, I picked up the juice and the bag and brought them both into my room.

  On the bag in neat, precise handwriting below the Sikik’s Sweets’ imprint was a note.

  Alanna,

  Thought maybe you could use a little fuel this morning. See you at 8.

  Brian

  I opened the bag where a huge apple-cinnamon muffin sat inside.
I pulled out the muffin and studied it for a long moment. I thought about pancakes with blueberry syrup in Dale’s cozy kitchen and looked, through watery eyes, around at my room. It had seemed cozy upon my arrival, but my definition of cozy had been revised since I had met Dale.

  Breaking off a piece of the muffin, I popped it into my mouth and choked it down. Tasty, but because I was fighting off yet another round of gut-busting sobs, digestion was difficult. This crying thing was getting on my nerves too. I had been raised to take the bad with the good. To, as my father used to say, “Build a bridge and get over it.” I wasn’t a wallower. I never pitied myself.

  But this. The anger had burned off to be replaced with a soul deep sadness. One that threatened to swallow me whole. I had shut myself off from loving someone this completely. And here I was now, feeling like shit, because I hadn’t stuck to my own rules. Rules that had gotten me this far in life. I’d picked career over love.

  Why didn’t that feel right anymore?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  In the Moose Point lobby, Brian sat in one of the comfortable recliners, facing the fireplace and writing something in his notebook. A small TV in the corner was the only noise in the room.

  “Hey,” I said from behind him.

  The notebook popped off his lap, and he fumbled around to retrieve it.

  I laughed—a strange sound to my ears when I realized it was coming from my own throat. “Did I scare you?”

  “Uhh…yeah.” Brian smoothed out the creased pages of his notebook and searched around in the cushions of the chair for his pen.

  “Sorry. I usually approach with more noise than that.”

  “You came upon me like a Ninja.” Brian held up his found pen in triumph.

  The tightness in my chest loosened a little, and I was finally able to take in a full breath. Okay, maybe more like a fourth of a breath, but even that was an improvement.

  “Maybe I am a Ninja.” I karate-chopped the air in front of me.

  Brian laughed as he stashed his notebook and pen in the bag between his feet. “You seem to be feeling a little better.”