Canyon Secret (31 page)

And this was the occasion. The sound of the train engine interrupted each of them as the required triple horn blasts sounded as it crossed the intersection. They glanced at each other as if to say, “No turning back now.”

Mikhail reached for Hannah’s well-worn canvas satchel to assist her with boarding. This gentlemanly gesture was not lost on Hannah as she made direct eye contact, smiled, and said, “Thanks, Mikhail. Good move.” Why did she always have to use the smile that caused him to melt when he felt most uncomfortable or out of place? It didn’t help matters.

The weight of the satchel briefly caused Mikhail to speculate on the contents, but he knew better than to make any guesses and he certainly didn’t ask. What he knew about women and overnight packing could fit into a small shot glass. He already felt embarrassed. He hadn’t packed a thing. Not even clean shorts or socks. At least he had his wallet and felt somewhat manly with money to spend on this intriguing and very fascinating woman. The rendezvous in Whitefish had been her idea. He remembered that he agreed fairly quickly as long as she understood he paid.

Mikhail followed Hannah up the grated, metal steps and caught more than just glimpses of her behind as it swayed from side to side with each step. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? As she proceeded down the narrow aisle way looking for two seats together, he observed that the sway was hidden when Hannah simply walked. He decided that they needed to find more steps in the future. Hannah located two seats and immediately claimed the window. “I get the window,” she pronounced with her typically assertive tone when argument was out of the question.

Mikhail give Hannah her way when she used that particular voice because her requests were usually no big deal and simply part of her personality. He figured out, too, that if she looked out the window, he’d more easily take her into the safety of his own thoughts and not converse. He promptly did just that as Hannah sat back and gazed out the large glassed area. Quietly, Mikhail started with her attire, clothes he never saw before. Hannah wore a well cared for, pale pink sweater twin set that included a dainty silver fox fur collar and gray pearl buttons. Mikhail knew little of women’s sweaters, but it crossed his mind that it might be cashmere.

Again, it was safe to wonder about Hannah. Flat out asking was dangerous. To match the twin set, Hannah chose a neatly pressed lightweight gray pleated wool skirt. He noticed the shear nylons and quickly averted his eyes from her legs and made the assumption that she surely had shoes on of some kind. He decided to check that out later.

As his gaze returned to above the little fur collar, he saw that face. The face that stopped him in his tracks several months ago. The face that seldom appeared confused or without thought. It was the face that for today showed hints of blush and perhaps a little mascara. She covered her lips with a peachy pink color. Right now that face looked more deeply in thought than he ever observed before. “What’s on her mind? Is she having second thoughts? Did I already do something wrong just a few miles into the trip? Did I need my own satchel? Hell, I haven’t done anything yet! How can she be having second thoughts? Take it easy you big mope!”

Hannah continued to take in the landscape as the train slowly picked up speed winding to Whitefish and the eventual shit canning of her past celibate-like life. She smiled to herself thinking about how much she loved this time of year. There was just a tinge of color coming to the trees, and the river rolled ever so low on its banks. From experience, she knew that one good frost and the trees would be the vibrant gold, red, and yellow shades of fall. Hannah never tired of the change in the larch trees, a species of evergreen that turned the most beautiful golden yellow in autumn and dropped its needles to cushion and protect the forest floor in winter.

She likened this change in the evergreen to a change in herself. Hannah planned to shed her needles of worn out grief and take on different hues of happiness. With Mikhail, she hoped to cushion her heart from the pain of loneliness and find protection from future winters. She’d do this with class and knew that Mikhail required mental patience, physical guidance, and verbal instructions from her. Hannah grinned slightly and had long ago concluded that if characters in her romance novels and those from her theater’s silver screen could find pure, unadulterated pleasure in the body of the opposite sex, so could she. She promised herself to not let history repeat itself in this department. Hannah quit looking out the window and faced Mikhail as best she could while sitting side by side.

“Hey, Mikhail Anzich. What’s goin’ on in that genius mind of yours? For your sake, I hope it’s nothin’ to do with pulleys, cement, or big buckets that have no business being suspended hundreds of feet above the earth.”

“No.”

“Do your thoughts have anything to do with your crews, emergencies, and whether the proper people are on shift to handle them?”

“No.”

“Okay, Mr. Open Book, what are you thinkin’ about?” quipped Hannah.

“Shoes and socks.”

“What?” Hannah questioned a bit too loudly.

“I wondered if your shoes were gray like your skirt or pink like your sweater. I think I gotta buy socks when we get to Whitefish.” “And shorts,” he silently said to himself.

“We’re finally going away to be alone and learn more about each other and you’re thinkin’ about my shoes and your own under clothing. You know, Mikhail, you just might be the most romantic man I know,” joked Hannah.

Mikhail sort of liked the shoes and socks routine. Two could play at her very fun and stimulating games. He thought maybe he was one up but then Hannah removed the cardigan sweater from the twin set to reveal toned, tanned, and soft looking arms. Her Lion Lake fishing trips and physically encouraging, unsavory patrons from her theater left their mark leaving her upper torso muscular in a feminine sort of way. She tucked in the matching, pale pink sleeveless camisole showing her waist, the waist Mikhail craved to put his hands on.

The Great Northern Streamliner continued on course to Whitefish. The sound of the engine and the clikety-clack of movement across the tracks put many passengers to sleep. Once again, Mikhail and Hannah seemed lost in their own thoughts, but the tension between them was apparent and exciting. As the train whistle sounded three times near the Christmas tree farm that Hannah recognized, she knew they would soon be coming into town. As if willed by her thoughts, she felt the train lose speed and she glanced over at Mikhail. They smiled simultaneously and instinctually reached for each other’s hand. His hand nearly swallowed hers, but he gently gave it a squeeze. She immediately felt safe and cared for. The train came to a slow and calculated, brakes screeching halt. Mikhail reached for Hannah’s satchel, glad to be useful, and gestured that he would follow her to the exit. At the exit, he asked her to wait while he went down the stairs first. At the bottom, he turned and reached up to offer his hand to guide her safe descent.

As she took the second step, he boldly stated, “Pink suits you.”

“Funny you should say that. That’s kind of what my mother said when she loaned me her favorite cashmere sweater duo.”

“Kind of, what’s that mean?”.

“Well, ya,” answered Hannah. “Actually my mother told me that it was the color that made my dad’s heart flutter and his putter stutter.”

“Hannah, you make me nervous like I’ve never known before. That there smile of yours most likely melts glaciers in Glacier Park.”

Mikhail’s soft voice and utter vulnerability gave Hannah pause. Right then and there, she knew she didn’t make a mistake. This would be the night of all nights for her. She’d let up on him, but only some.

“Mikhail, let’s check in and take a walk. It’s too early to eat.” “Okay.”

Hannah and Mikhail casually made their way the few blocks to the Cadillac Hotel and Restaurant. It was easy to look down Whitefish’s main street and see that this was a quaint western town with a history to tell. The Cadillac stood out from the other buildings because it had multiple floors unlike the other weathered storefronts that lined the pot-holed street.

Initially, people called Whitefish by the name of Stumptown. Before the arrival of the railroad and people, the area around Whitefish was heavily wooded. To make room for a town site, a huge number of trees had to be cut down, all of which left stumps behind. These stumps created problems almost immediately in the form of creating traffic problems and making it a pain for new additional construction as all of the stumps had to be removed.

The name of Stumptown didn’t stick. The first buildings were all built around the railroad. The railroad became one of the towns’ biggest employers. Once the railroad came, Whitefish grew quickly. The influx of railroad workers, loggers, and trappers combined to give Whitefish a solid foundation that was unlike the boom and bust mining towns that died off once the gold ran out.

Mikhail and Hannah entered the main doors of the Cadillac and shyly made their way to the check-in desk.

The desk clerk greeted them with a big smile as they approached, “Good afternoon, folks. Beautiful day, isn’t it? Need to appreciate days like these; snow could come anytime now. May I help you?”

Mikhail swallowed hard hearing the word, folks. Did they already look like a couple to everybody else?

“Yes,” answered Hannah in an uncharacteristically timid voice. “We have a reservation for tonight and just wanted to check in and drop off this satchel.”

“What’s the name on the reservation?” The clerk sensed a bit of uneasiness with his current customers and then asked Hannah, “Do I know you?”

“Mikhail Anzich,” stated Hannah more boldly while deliberately ignoring the clerk’s question. Her volunteer work in Hungry Horse often made her face more recognizable than her name. She generally didn’t enjoy this.

It pleased Mikhail that she had made the reservation in his name. It seemed more appropriate even though he felt pretty certain that his mother wouldn’t be proud of this rendezvous that he found himself as an actor. To become part of the conversation and not just a giant fixture, Mikhail inquired if they needed dinner reservations for tonight. The friendly clerk indicated that he thought that would be a good idea, and he would oblige as soon as he finished up with the paper work.

“Check out is at 11:00 AM. Did you want to pay now or then? We prefer now so no one skips out on us, but you two look as honest as the day is long so it’s up to you.” The clerk chuckled a little sensing that Mikhail and Hannah weren’t legally bound by a wedding license. The hotel owner already warned him to keep his jokes and jabs to himself, so he left it at that.

“I’ll pay now,” answered Mikhail with a firm tone. “Now about those dinner reservations. We’re celebratin’ a special event. We’d like a table for two in a quiet section of the dinin’ room. Can ya do that?”

“Oh, yes sir! I’ll let the hostess know right away. Would you like to look at a menu?”

“Not really,” they answered in unison.

“We’d like the table ready at 6:00 PM,” ordered Mikhail.

“However,” added Hannah, “We’d like to store our satchel behind your counter while we stretch our legs in your fair town. The train ride is short, but we’d love to take a walk. The key, please.”

The clerk quickly handed over the key and gestured to the staircase leading up to the rooms. Now, that’s a staircase to appreciate thought Mikhail. I will definitely let her walk up first! They exited through the heavy, dark, oak doors and headed south into town. The laughter exploded from them as they reviewed their encounter with the clerk who demonstrated such haughty self-importance.

“And,” voiced Hannah, “what is the special event we are celebratin’?”

“It’s my mother’s birthday in a couple of weeks, Hannah. She’d like it that I celebrated early with you!”

“She must be a lot more easy goin’ than you, Mikhail Anzich. I’ll be sure and let her know what a great time we had.”

It pleased Mikhail that Hannah used the words, great time. Little by little, he relaxed and knew that Hannah showed kindness as they both maneuvered through this rather awkward interlude in their private get-away.

They casually walked down the rest of Main Street. Mikhail stopped outside of the barbershop and straddled the penny horse ride outside of the front door. Hannah slipped in a penny and laughed as the horse rocked back and forth under Mikhail. His legs cleared the machine as he mocked the action of a rodeo rider. They agreed that more than one parent bribed their young son with a ride on the horse after he braved the first haircut activity.

The outing did both of them good. With the fresh early evening air and a fine walk, each felt a renewed calm and self-assurance for the evening ahead. The clerk helped another customer as they returned from window-shopping and the numerous informal encounters they ran into with the well-meaning townspeople. Mikhail’s size generally drew attention and strangers naturally looked at him. Mikhail knew exactly how to be genuinely friendly while communicating the message that he didn’t want to share his life’s story. Hannah took the opportunity to observe a new side of him. She liked this side a lot.

Hannah watched as Mikhail assertively reached behind the hotel counter and hefted her satchel like it weighed nothing at all. She pulled the key from her purse while Mikhail gestured that he would follow her up the stairs. Mikhail began to eagerly realize that she didn’t intimidate him as she slowly ascended the stairs. Hannah didn’t know how much he savored the naturally feminine sway from right to left. He enjoyed that there were so many stairs to the second floor where they would find the room waiting.

At the top, Hannah glanced back and caught Mikhail with his eyes rather low on her body. She then deliberately looked forward and noted the brass plaque showing that room numbers two through eight were down the hall to the right. She held the key to room number six and headed in the correct direction. Boldly she inserted the key into the ornate lock and entered first. She opened the door wider, and Mikhail followed. The rather little bed loomed before them with a nightstand and lamp on one side and an oak rocker opposite. Near the window that faced the main street, she noticed a sitting area with a round three-legged table and two straight back chairs. The bedspread, window curtains, wallpaper, and any other available surface were covered in various flowered prints of pastel hues.