by Kim Baldwin
“Nothing right now. I made a good living as an international courier and got around the world a good bit, but never with time to see much of anything.” She ate more of her sandwich, marveling at how simple corned beef could taste so wonderful in such a setting. “You know the deal. Working hard, saving up, always living for the future. One day I decided to just quit and start living the life I’d always wanted to.”
“Lot of folks, especially after they come up here and get some time to put things in perspective, vow to do that, but most never will. Why, do you think?”
“Too afraid of the unknown, maybe. It’s hard to chuck a job that pays well and isn’t half-bad to chase a dream, especially with the way the economy’s been the last few years. Or responsibilities to their loved ones tie them where they are.”
“You didn’t have that?” Bryson asked. When Emery didn’t immediately answer, she added, “Or is that too personal a question?”
“No, it’s all right.” She still felt a deep sense of guilt about breaking it off with Lisa, because Lisa hadn’t yet moved on. Every now and then, Emery called to check up on her and tell her she was well and safe. But that might only prolong Lisa’s period of healing. Did Emery make the hurt all raw and fresh again every time they connected? “I was involved and living with someone,” she told Bryson.
She’d made a lot of friends in her journey, but had opened up to none of them about her relationship. Easy to talk to, Bryson emitted such a trustworthy air Emery knew she’d be a good sounding board. Though she knew in her heart she’d made the right decisions about her life, she always valued an objective opinion. “We were very compatible. Lisa’s sweet and down-to-earth, and has such a dry sense of humor she made me laugh several times a day. The sex was still great, after three years. But I always knew she was more, well, you know…she really loved me a lot. And I couldn’t return the intensity.” She glanced at Bryson, gauging her reaction by her facial expressions and body language. “Finally I realized I was holding her back from finding the kind of deep, mutual commitment she wanted, and needed. So I broke it off. I hurt her pretty badly.”
Bryson nodded thoughtfully. “Tough thing to do, when you care about someone.” She looked over at Emery. “Pretty much the same story with Geneva and me. I couldn’t return her feelings. But we only dated three months or so.”
“That explains why you sound protective about her.”
Bryson grinned shyly in acknowledgment.
“Sometimes I think I should have walked away from Lisa early on,” Emery said. “As soon as I realized it was off-balance and always would be.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. You were true to yourself, which everyone has to be. And you took her long-term well-being into account, even if it maybe happened later than it should’ve.” Bryson’s tone held no judgment or criticism. “We move on. It took Geneva a while, but she’s in a good place now, open to the right person coming along.”
“I really hope Lisa is able to, soon. She deserves to be happy.”
Bryson got to her feet and brushed crumbs from her jeans. “Everyone deserves to be happy. Ready to see more?”
“Absolutely.”
She helped Bryson clear some of the lighter debris from her gravel-bar runway, then they were on their way again.
For the next ninety minutes, they flew through canyons and over mountain passes in the Gates of the Arctic National Park, which, Bryson informed her, was roughly the size of Switzerland. They landed briefly in the places where her trips would commence, and each and every spot seemed more breathtaking than the last. She took hundreds of photos, grateful for her 16GB memory card and extra batteries.
They spotted two grizzlies, a small herd of caribou, and several more moose. For these, she set the adjustment to the camera’s HDVideo setting, and shot moving footage as Bryson swooped low. She was having the time of her life, and she liked and admired Bryson more by the minute, but the experience ended too soon.
“We need to head back.” Bryson banked sharply right over a wide plain of tundra so thick with wildflowers it looked like a colorful patchwork quilt.
“Do we have to?”
Bryson laughed. “Getting low on fuel.”
“Well, I’ve had an amazing day, Bryson. I hope I can hire you again soon. I don’t have anything going on until the photography trip.”
“Must say, I wish we could stay out, too. Had a real nice day having you along. In fact, since I get to charge Dita for my gas for this trip, I’m going to give you this freebie. My welcome to Bettles. Next time, you can get my special-friend’s rate. We can look at my calendar for the next few days if you join us for dinner tonight.”
“That’s incredibly generous, Bryson. I can’t thank you enough. And yes, I’d love to meet your friends and firm up our next outing.”
Chapter Nine
Pasha tried to force herself to stop glancing at the clock. Every time she did, her heart sank, and she’d already checked the computer readout to make sure the clock was correct. Barely four. Again. Still. The last half hour had crept, and the surreal time distortion increased. She couldn’t wait to put the nonstop calls to voice mail and start on the paperwork that had taunted her all day, but she had another hour before the magic deadline.
At least the demands of the day had prevented her from dwelling on Emery Lawson. Well, she had found herself spacing out a few times while a client droned on about some insignificant matter, imagining instead that she was out with Bryson and Emery in the Cub. Of course, in her daydream she acted relaxed and eloquent around Emery, not like the bumbling idiot she’d been that morning.
They must be having a great time, she concluded, because they’d been gone four hours, instead of two or three. Pasha couldn’t dwell on the possibility that trouble might have delayed them. She believed that projecting “bad karma” only drew it to you, while staying upbeat helped keep things in a positive balance.
Relieved, she spotted Bryson through the big picture windows jogging toward the office. Pasha glared at the phone, demanding its silence for at least a few minutes so she could ask about the flightseeing excursion. Happily, at least for the moment, it cooperated.
“You’re back!” She greeted Bryson as soon as she came through the door. “How’d it go?”
“Great! Perfect day for flying.” Bryson shed her jacket over a chair. “Gonna grab a soda. Want anything?”
“Nope, I’m good.”
Bryson returned from the backroom fridge with a Diet Coke and settled into a big, comfy chair in the waiting area. “Made it to most all the trip drop-off points,” she reported, after taking a long swig of her drink. “Everything looked pretty good. Some debris on the gravel bars from spring breakup, but we got in and cleared away what we needed. Emery helped a lot. Had to bypass the one at the base of Eekayruk Mountain, though. I’ll have to borrow Skeeter’s floatplane to clean it up.”
Happy to learn their summer landing sites had no problems, Pasha especially wanted to hear Bryson’s opinion of Emery. But she hesitated to reveal her inexplicable draw toward the newcomer, especially since her power seemed to have short-circuited. And something might have already developed between Emery and Geneva. “That’s good news. Dita will be happy to hear it.”
“Say, did you add anything to my calendar today?”
“Yup, sure did.” Pasha called up the flight schedule on the computer and isolated Bryson’s bookings. “Phone’s been crazy. Added a big freight delivery in a couple weeks to Prudhoe Bay, a handful of custom air-taxi runs in July and August—”
“Anything the next few days?”
“No. Nothing firm. Though I did get a call from a couple in Evansville asking about your availability this week. The wife’s due date is coming up and they want to reach Fairbanks before she goes into labor. I told them I’d pass on their number so you can talk to them directly.” She fished through the pink message notes from the day until she found the right one and handed it to Bryson.
“Thanks
. Can you print out an updated schedule for me? Emery wants to book another flightseeing trip.”
“Sure.” Pasha felt herself blushing at the mention of Emery’s name. Cursing to herself, she turned away from Bryson to retrieve the document as the printer spit it out. She apparently couldn’t control how her body and psyche dealt with this insane but undeniable attraction, and her powerlessness frustrated her.
“She’s joining us for dinner,” Bryson said. “She should fit in great with the group.”
Pasha’s spirits lifted at the prospect of seeing Emery, but then she remembered the big stack of bills and client inquiries she still had to sort through. “Hope I can make it. I’ve got a lot to do here before I can think about leaving.”
“Even if you miss eating with us, you should come by. You know we’ll all hang around.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Geneva’s got the night off so I’ll ask her, too. They might have some mutual interest, and I like Emery a lot. She seems very centered. Mature. Got a good head on her shoulders.”
“Sounds like she made a deep impression. You can really read people.”
Bryson grinned. “Yeah, she’s good company. An interesting woman.”
“How so?”
“Seen a lot, done a lot. Bit of an adrenaline junkie.” Bryson chuckled. “Probably why I like her. But I’ll let you judge for yourself.” She checked her watch. “Better run. Promised Karla I’d meet her back at the room. We’re moving our things to Chaz and Megan’s rental cabin.”
“I’d offer to help, but—” The phone rang.
At her frown, Bryson shrugged in sympathy. “You’re swamped. And we don’t have much, anyway.” She grabbed her coat and headed for the door. “See you later.”
“Hope so.” Pasha answered the phone with her standard greeting, but had to repeat it a second and then third time when it became apparent the Japanese caller on the other end couldn’t understand, especially with the static-filled connection. Would this tiresome workday never end?
*
Emery spent an hour in her room with her laptop reviewing the photos she’d taken with Bryson, then transferred them onto her portable hard drive. Most were damn good shots when viewed full screen, a lasting, vivid reminder of a perfect day. She looked forward to spending more time with Bryson and getting to know her friends.
But still adjusting to the time change, she struggled against the urge for a quick nap. She was meeting everyone in less than an hour, so if she allowed herself some shut-eye, she’d only become groggy and less apt to sleep tonight. She chose a shower instead and ordered coffee, hoping the combination would kick-start a second wind. The hot water and a Percocet would also help dispel the nagging aches that had resurfaced from sitting so long in the cramped cockpit and helping Bryson move debris.
Wrapping her body in a large towel while she used another as a turban, she emerged from the steamy bathroom and lingered before the closet, mulling over her clothing choices. A knock at the door told her the coffee had arrived, so she half hid behind the door because she expected to see Grizz.
Instead, the waitress, Geneva, stood armed with a tray holding a carafe, mug, cream, and sugar packets. “Hey, Emery. I’m not actually working tonight, but I heard Grizz say you wanted some coffee, so I volunteered.” She smiled coyly as she slipped past Emery and set the tray on the bed.
Before Geneva could turn back around, Emery shot back into the bathroom and closed the door. “Be right out,” she hollered as she hurriedly redressed in her discarded clothes. Modesty, per se, didn’t propel her to avoid having Geneva see her half-dressed; quite possibly they might become intimate, and she always wanted to prepare her lovers. Her many scars had shocked and distracted those she hadn’t, particularly the large rose-shaped knot at the base of her throat where the Bulgarian medic had performed a hasty tracheotomy.
When she emerged in her wrinkled turtleneck and jeans, her hair still wet, she found Geneva perched on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Geneva frowned apologetically. “Shouldn’t have just invited myself in.”
“It’s fine.” Emery sat on the bed, too, the tray between them, and poured herself a mug of coffee. “Don’t misinterpret—I’m not incredibly shy. I just…well, I’ll tell you about it some other time, all right?”
“Sure.” Geneva got to her feet, obviously interpreting Emery’s lack of explanation as a signal to leave. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Just wanted to make sure you’ll join us for dinner. I ran into Bryson downstairs.”
“You didn’t disturb me, Geneva. Really.” Emery studied the dark-haired waitress. She’d already noted that Geneva had a beautiful face and well-proportioned curves, but they’d spent so few seconds together last night and she’d been so tired she remembered little else. Now she could let Geneva know she was interested, so she assessed her openly and appreciatively. The natural sunlight streaming through the window put amber highlights in Geneva’s long, dark hair and played off her smoky-gray eyes and olive skin. She knew how to showcase her natural beauty and killer smile with minimal makeup and jewelry.
Grinning, Emery said, “And yes. I’m looking forward to it. Maybe afterward, you and I can have that drink together or take a walk or something.”
“Or something?” Geneva smiled slyly. “I like the sound of that. I was afraid I came on too strong last night.”
“No, not at all. I was just beat from all the traveling. I’d love to get to know you better.”
“Great. Me, too. I’ll let you finish getting ready and meet you downstairs?”
“See you in a few. Save me a seat.”
“Right next to me.”
After she’d gone, Emery pondered if she hesitated to pursue Geneva because of what Bryson had said.
Emery intended to let Geneva know up front, as she always did with women, that she was just passing through and wanted only some mutual fun and good company. But from what Bryson had said, Geneva fell in love quickly and had been hurt more than once. She didn’t want it happening again, even if Geneva agreed to a brief, no-strings affair. And she didn’t want to risk alienating Bryson just as they began to become friends. Perhaps she should rethink the situation.
She hoped tonight would give her some answers, not only concerning Geneva, but also about the woman at the office—Pasha—and the weird way she’d acted.
Emery changed her clothes and dried her hair, marveling again at the surprises lurking at every turn. Checking her reflection a final time, she absentmindedly brushed the hair out of her eyes. Her bangs needed cutting, but she kept forgetting and hadn’t seen a salon or barbershop in town. Maybe she could hitch a ride with Bryson the next time she headed to Fairbanks.
Filled with optimism about the evening ahead, she took the stairs down to the restaurant two at a time.
Chapter Ten
Bryson, Geneva, and three of the other women who’d been there the night before waited for Emery at the corner booth. Pasha wasn’t among them. Emery pushed away her unexpected pang of disappointment. A lot of women ran late, and potential new friends sat right in front of her.
Bryson spotted her the instant she hit the doorway and half stood, waving her over. The others all watched her intently, too, and she was glad she’d given some thought to her clothes. She’d left her coat in her room and wore her usual black jeans, her boots, and a thick, black turtleneck sweater that hugged her. Various women had commented favorably on the ensemble, though she didn’t entirely understand the appeal. She crossed the room, grateful the Percocet had kicked in and she had no trace of a limp.
“Hey, Emery. Glad you could join us.” Bryson motioned for her to sit at the end next to Geneva.
“Emery.” Geneva smiled as she slid into the spacious booth, which could seat seven easily, eight in a squeeze. But Geneva stayed put, so their thighs would touch throughout the meal.
“Hi, Bryson. Geneva,” Emery said.
“I’d like you to meet my
partner Karla. Karla Edwards.”
Karla extended her hand across the table and smiled warmly. They both had to reach a bit to touch. “Really happy to meet you. Bryson’s been talking about you since she got back.” Emery noted Karla’s short, light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and fair complexion.
“I could feel my ears burning. I’m glad to meet you, too, Karla. Bryson told me a lot about you, as well.”
“Next up is Chaz Herrick.” Bryson indicated the athletic brunette next to Karla with a nod. “She’ll be one of your guides. And her wife, Megan Maxwell. She’s a TV field producer for World News Central.”
“Freelance, now,” Megan said as she and Chaz also extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll be one of your guides next week on the photography trip,” Chaz said. “Bryson says you know your way around the out of doors.”
“I’ve done some primitive camping. Backpacking, kayaking, and such.”
“Always great when you have someone with previous experience along,” Chaz said. “Though that’ll be most important on the kayak trips, which are my specialty. You going on any of those?”
“Yes, the ten-day one in August.”
“Feel comfortable in a kayak?”
“Up to class four. I know how to roll.”
“Good to know. If we get a lot of newbies, I may have you help watch some of them.”
“Be happy to.”
Grizz materialized at Emery’s elbow with a handful of menus. “What can I get ya, Emery?”
The rest of the table, she noted, drank beer out of a now nearly empty pitcher, except for Megan, who had white wine. “Another pitcher of that and a glass?”
“Coming right up.”
She scanned the menu, though she’d nearly memorized it during breakfast. It offered an enormous and unusual array of dishes for such a remote establishment and played up local resources. To start, every table got a basket of freshly baked sourdough bread, served with butter and homemade aioli. Because of the size of their party, or maybe because they all knew Grizz, they’d gotten a whole loaf. The specialties for dinner included reindeer stew, caribou or elk steaks, cod and king crab, and smoked salmon tacos. And for dessert, the Den recommended their baked Alaska or Ellie’s wild salmonberry crisp with home-churned vanilla ice cream.
