Breaking the Ice (18 page)

“Want me to call Bryson and tell her you’d like to make it another day?” He smiled down approvingly at them.

“Oh, gosh. I completely forgot.” Much as she wanted to continue getting to know her sister, Karla was looking forward to seeing Bryson, too, and who knew when the weather would provide her another opportunity. Besides, she wasn’t about to be rude to Bryson again. She started to look at her watch but it wasn’t there. She’d left it next to the tub. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two,” he said. “You have about four hours of daylight left.”

Maggie yawned loudly beside her, and Karla remembered that Lars had mentioned she often needed an afternoon nap.

“Since she’s expecting me, and since you could probably use a little rest, Maggie, I’ll go over for a short visit. But I’ll be back in time to cook dinner.”

That got a
great
out of Maggie, and a
thank God
out of Lars. They all laughed.

She hugged Maggie, relishing the warmth of her return embrace, and hopped off the bed. By the time she and Lars were suited up in their outerwear and boots, Maggie was settled into the pillows and comforter on her side, her eyes closed and her expression serene.

“I’m happy you two seem to be hitting it off so well,” Lars said as he started the engine to the skiff and they started downriver to Bryson’s cabin.

“Better than I dared hope.” The clouds had fled, and the sun had already melted most of the recent snow. It felt warmer out by several degrees than when she’d returned from her walk. “She asked me how long I can stay.”

“And you said?”

“I told her I can probably be here until the baby’s born, maybe a little after, if that’s what you both want.”

He grinned broadly, the relief on his face unmistakable. “I wager she was as delighted to hear that as I am.”

On impulse, Karla hugged him. She felt better than she had in weeks. Not only were things going wonderfully with Maggie, she was about to get some quality time to get to know Bryson better. “No happier than I am, Lars. No happier than I am.”

Bryson was extraordinarily patient under most circumstances, as imperturbable as one of the hundred thousand glaciers that dotted the landscape of the state she loved. The ability to tolerate any lengthy delay with good humor was necessary if you wanted to thrive in Alaska. Every year, she had to endure weeks of breakup and months of minimal sunlight. And she had to wait for endless intervals for the weather to clear so she could take to the air.

But all her patience abandoned her today, and she was pacing back and forth in front of her cabin window. Why was she so anxious for Karla Edwards to arrive? Her initial impression of Karla had been as bad as possible. She’d assessed her as a self-involved, petulant annoyance. But she’d been so damn tired she’d been less than charming herself. And who wouldn’t be edgy and preoccupied with herself after flying halfway across the world to meet a long-lost sister, unannounced, still grieving for her mother? She’d actually been quite pleasant during her visit at the cabin. And she was related to Maggie, which somehow made her all right.

It had been a long while since Bryson had looked forward to something so much, felt such a heightened excitement at the thought of spending a few hours in the company of another woman.

But she was being ridiculous. This wasn’t a date. Karla hadn’t indicated she was even gay, let alone that Bryson was on her radar. And their first meeting had certainly been less than auspicious. Regardless, she hadn’t been able to get Karla out of her mind. Why had she remembered things about Karla in vivid detail so often lately? What she looked like, sounded like, even smelled like, for God’s sake. Bryson didn’t wear perfume, so she’d immediately picked up Karla’s clean citrus-floral scent in the enclosed cabin of the Super Cub.

Had something happened with Maggie? It had been nearly three hours since Lars telephoned, and she’d expected the skiff long before now. On her next pass by the satellite phone, she paused and stared at it, willing it to ring. When it didn’t obey, she reached for it and started to punch in Lars’s number, then thought better. Things were probably pretty intense over there
,
and the last thing they needed was an interruption. Karla and Lars would either show up or call.
It wasn’t like she had a lot else to do
.
She set the phone back in its cradle.

Too restless to confine her pacing indoors any longer, she grabbed her coat and headed down to the river.

The sun was shining bright against the mountains, but even at its height it rose only fifteen degrees above the horizon these days, so it cast deep shadows over the white-tipped peaks, outlining every jagged outcropping. In addition to the track of the sun, she measured the coming of winter in the amount of snow on her part of the Brooks Range. Each significant snowfall lengthened and stretched the blanket of white, until finally it covered everything above and below: first the mountains, then the forest and tundra, and finally, the rivers and lakes.

Interior Alaska was in that capricious phase of transition, the nights routinely below freezing, the days warm enough to melt any snow that had fallen. The ground had been mostly frozen that morning when she went outdoors to quiet Bandit’s noisy tirade with a handful of seeds, but now it was spongy again beneath her feet.

She walked upstream a hundred yards to a large, smooth boulder that frequently served as her perch for casting a line into the water. The rock had a natural depression similar to the curve of a semi-reclined lounge chair, allowing her to relax comfortably for long hours without needing additional padding.

The granite had absorbed enough of the sun’s rays to warm her through the thin layer of her jeans. She unzipped her jacket and leaned back against the rock, closing her eyes but attuned to the sound of the skiff’s engine.

Where should she take Karla? If the choice were entirely hers, they’d be up in the Cub, flying low over glaciers, seeking a glimpse of caribou. This time of year, the massive Porcupine Caribou Herd, numbering a hundred thousand animals, was often split into two major groups, the nearest one wintering some 180 miles northeast of Bettles near Arctic Village. Seeing the animals up close, whether on land or from the air, never failed to impress outstate visitors. But the round-trip flight would take four hours, which was about how much daylight was left and allowed them no time to find and admire the herd.

Besides, considering Karla’s attitude toward bush flying, it was probably better to choose a location within easy walking distance. That still left several possibilities. They could scale Mathews Dome, a relatively easy climb with an amazing panoramic view, or follow the Flat River up to Icy Creek, where the canyon was so narrow the sheer cliffs on either side rose claustrophobically close to the hiker beneath. Another option would be to follow the Wild River south to Madison Creek. She’d often seen moose there in the swampy areas, but that was probably too far away to make it back before dusk.

She caught the subtle chop of the skiff’s engine long before the boat came into view. By the time it motored around the bend, she was standing offshore near Lars’s usual tie-off spot.

She recognized the royal blue of Karla’s down jacket long before she could make out her face; she was standing in the open rear of the skiff. Just as Bryson raised her hand to wave, Karla did likewise, and it warmed her from within to imagine that Karla might be anticipating their visit as much as she was.

The broad smile on Karla’s face when the skiff pulled up reinforced that hope and reassured her that things had probably gone well with Maggie.

“Hi,” Karla hollered as Lars cut the engine.

“Hi yourself. You look like your visit’s been a positive one.”

“Couldn’t be better.” Karla appeared so relaxed and happy she might have been a different woman entirely.

“Maggie’s still dealing with the whole adoption thing,” Lars said as he secured the boat. “But the two of them were having such a good time getting acquainted, time kind of got away from them.”

“Great to hear.” Bryson waded across the shallows and offered a hand to help Karla out of the skiff. When Karla took it, she felt a moment of regret that both of them had gloves on. It was silly to be wanting to touch her, even like this
. Get a grip.

Karla hopped off the skiff, splashing water onto Bryson’s jeans, but Bryson didn’t care. Karla’s expression was so pleased and expectant that it seemed she, too, was determined to push aside their initial friction and start fresh. Bryson was really looking forward to their afternoon together.

*

“It’s impossible to describe this with words.” Karla’s voice was full of awe as she surveyed the endless wilderness that stretched before them. “Certainly worth the hike getting up here.”

The view from the 4,600-foot peak of Mathews Dome was one of Bryson’s favorites, for it enabled her to see many miles in all directions: the vast valley of the Wild River as it stretched toward Bettles to the south, the Flat River gorge to the east, and Wild Lake, more than six miles to the northwest. She handed Karla her binoculars and pointed. “You can make out Maggie and Lars’s cabin, there—up from that little inlet. See the glint of reflection on the water? That’s the skiff.”

Karla put the binoculars to her eyes and adjusted the focus. “Oh, yeah, I see it.” She followed the shoreline north, surveying the entirety of the long body of water. “They have the whole lake to themselves?”

“A couple of primitive cabins are tucked up in the woods on this side. But only hunters use them, a few weekends a year. And a gold mine’s just north of the lake, but it operates only in summer.”

“The water is so smooth it looks like glass.” Karla handed back the binoculars and sighed with contentment. “I bet you come up here a lot, don’t you?”

“Great place to sit and think. You feel so small in such an enormous landscape. Yet still a very integral part of everything. That make sense?”

“Yes. Humbled, but embraced, like you’re part of time immemorial. Experiencing the world as it was hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago.”

“Exactly.”

“Not many places like that left.” She turned to Bryson. “With how much you obviously love all this, I bet you’re pretty passionate about environmental issues.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t pay a lot of attention to politics in general, but I keep up with anything that might impact the land, the water, the air, the animals. Especially efforts to drill in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Unfortunately, most Alaskans favor it because we all get checks every year based on state oil revenues. But drilling would have such a negative impact on the caribou herd and a lot of other wildlife that a lot of people oppose it. Skeeter keeps up-to-date on what’s going on through the Internet and clues in the rest of us.”

“Wow. Did you say everyone gets checks from the state?”

“Most everybody. You have to have lived here at least a year and intend to stay indefinitely. The dividends come out of something called the Alaska Permanent Fund. Usually it’s about a thousand dollars, but last year I got a check for more than thirty-two hundred.”

“Well, that’s definitely one benefit of living up here.”

“We also don’t pay any sales taxes or state income tax. Just federal.” Bryson leaned back on her elbows, legs stretched out in front of her. “But it doesn’t amount to that much once you figure in how much more expensive everything is.”

“I know that you and Lars are both part of an outfitters’ group, but I didn’t see Maggie’s name on the Web site. Does she stay at home all the time?”

“No, she’s taking time off while she’s pregnant. She’s a biologist for the NPS in the Gates of the Arctic National Park.” Bryson gestured east. “Park boundary is only seven miles that way.” Then she pointed north. “And two upriver of the lake. Maggie takes that way in, in the skiff, or I fly her where she needs to go.”

“That sounds like a cool job. I’ll have to ask her about it.”

“Get her to tell you about the time a big ol’ bull moose wanted to get a little too friendly during mating season.” Bryson chuckled. The moose had been so convinced that Maggie was the hottest thing around she’d had to spend half a day up a tree.

“I will. I bet you’ve had a few misadventures, too, spending so much time in the bush.”

“Hard not to.” She didn’t want to volunteer her own, however, as most had been life-threatening situations, not laugh-about-it-later moose encounters. And since Karla’s statement seemed an attempt to get her to do just that, she thought it was a good time to change the subject. “Really glad you and Maggie are hitting it off so well. Have you decided how long you’re going to stay?” During their trek up the mountain, Karla had elaborated on her morning with Maggie, but she hadn’t mentioned her plans.

“Yes. They asked me to stay until after the baby’s born, and I’m pretty sure I can arrange that with the hospital.”

“That’s great!” Bryson blurted, with the enthusiasm of someone who’d just won the lottery, and felt immediately self-conscious. She couldn’t be more transparent about her hope that Karla extend her visit.

But Karla responded with a pleased and bashful smile. “I’m glad you think so, in spite of the fact I was kind of obnoxious when we met.” She shrugged apologetically. “And I hope that means you’ll want to show me more places like this,” she added, “because I’ve had a wonderful day. I enjoy your company.” Once more, she gazed out over the landscape, looking toward the Rasmussen cabin. “I’ll never, ever forget this moment. For the first time in what seems like forever, I feel completely at peace.”