Cotton Grass Lodge (24 page)

“Sounds like we need a flush party,” Duncan said. “Flush out the summer and get ready for winter.”

A pained look crossed Tom’s face. “Aw, that was bad.”

“Ewww, you’re a smart man. Couldn’t you come up with something better than that?” Alice poured scrambled eggs into a pan. “Go. Play host, and get those people to the table.”

The three guests were fed, and Duncan had them and their luggage down at the strip when the plane arrived.

The cocky little bastard had been Charlie’s new pilot in June. He got out of the plane, and Duncan helped him get the groceries unloaded and put the luggage for the guests into the back compartment of the plane.

“Have you seen Hanna around?” Duncan asked.

“Haven’t seen her.”

The fiasco in July was still a sore spot for both men. Duncan could overlook one or two mistakes, but the summer had been full of forgotten packages and sarcasm. “Will you be bringing anything out later today?”

“Probably not. Today’s my last day.”

Duncan overlooked his sullen reply, and the young man ignored all but Duncan’s direct questions. Of course it could be because of the time in late July when Duncan had threatened to skin him with cuticle scissors.

“You just started flying with this outfit, where are you going?” Duncan asked.

“It’s fall, Dude. Aurora Air’s cutting back on summer pilots, and I’m gonna go back to California. I spent last winter here. I’ll never do it again, almost froze my nuts off.” He jerked on the bill of his cap.

“Who’s going to fly this route?” Duncan followed the man around the plane.

“Don’t know. You’ll have to call the office.” His juvenile insolence landed flat on Duncan’s nerves. “Gotta go.” Jeff climbed into the plane, slammed the door, and latched it.

The plane took off, and Duncan watched it disappear into the horizon. He understood now why Hanna had been apprehensive about changes to the lodge. Duncan didn’t like changes either. Charlie had been grumpy, but he was consistently grumpy.

Hanna, where are you? Why haven’t you returned my calls?

A skiff motored slowly across the lake toward Duncan. The cold breeze brushed his face and puffy white clouds reflected in the water. He was glad he had opted for the fleece jacket this morning.

He rejoiced in what he’d found here at Cotton Grass Lake. His tiny piece of the universe surrounded by harshness. Filled with bears and moose and drunks and sharp-witted women, and more life than he’d ever known possible. Years of striving for fast cars or fast deals and all the time he was headed here.

Duncan waved, ambled to the dock and waited to help Bill Jefferson and his wife tie up and get out of their skiff. “Good to see you. Are you here for a few days?” he asked.

Bill wasn’t the only neighbor with a plane. The knowledge came to Duncan early in his Alaskan experience. It seems in Alaska you owned a 4x4 truck and a plane the way people Outside owned two cars. The skiff was the bicycle around the lake.

“Yeah, probably our last trip in on floats though. We’ll have to wait until after freeze-up to make another trip. By then I’ll have the skis on.” Bill got out of the rocking boat and pumped Duncan’s hand in greeting. “Are you going to have room for two extra at lunch? Must be some local news or gossip to catch up on.”

Duncan laughed. “Sure, we’ll find something to talk about. It’s started to slow down now. I just put my last customers on the plane until the weekend.”

“Great. We brought Nell’s jacket too. She left it in the plane yesterday.”

“Nell?” A mix of curious irritation spread through Duncan’s middle. He didn’t want to alienate people. Everyone seemed to love the old woman.

“Yeah,” Bill continued. “It was a little funny. She was waiting at the place in Willow where we keep the plane. She said she thought maybe she’d mixed up the day she was scheduled to come out to the lake, but since we were coming anyhow we just brought her along.”

The reality of how much time had lapsed hit Duncan. His world went into slow motion as his mind split between standing on the shore of the lake, here and now, and searching through yesterday afternoon’s events.

“She’s getting spacey, but she’s always been a sweetheart.” Bill continued to chatter amiably while he helped his wife from the boat and secured it to the dock.

Duncan could feel blood pool in the pit of his stomach. “Bill, when did you leave her? She isn’t here. We haven’t seen her for weeks.”

Bill’s ebony face paled. His wife lifted her hand to cover her mouth, “But—we dropped her right here. We—It was yesterday afternoon. What—Oh my God—are you sure she isn’t here?”

“Let’s not get too excited.” Duncan wanted to bolt for the lodge. “She probably just went over to Edna’s and spent the night.”

They hurried to the lodge. After a brief explanation, Alice grabbed the mic on the CB. “Break 12—This is the lodge. I have an emergency. Anybody on? Over.” Alice waited anxiously.

Finally the dead air scratched.
“
Hi Alice, this is Naomi. What’s wrong? Over.”

“Nell was dropped off at the lodge last night, but we didn’t know it. She isn’t here. Has anyone seen her? Over.”

The silence was only there for a moment. The clicks and snatches of answers crackled through the room as listeners picked up and talked over each other on the one-at-a-time conduit of channel twelve. At last the flush of excitement returned to everyone taking impatient turns.

“Mathew here, I’ll ride the four-wheeler trail from here to the lodge and check the empty cabins. Over”

“This is Edna. I haven’t seen her. I’ll look around my place. Over.”

Jacob reported he would take his skiff down the far side of the lake. Two other families called to relay information. They hadn’t seen her either but would immediately start a search.

Tom and Duncan, with Bill’s help, searched every building at the lodge. Then Bill and his wife went back across the lake in their skiff. They would resume the search in their plane.

While Duncan fielded calls on the CB, Alice went to her own cabin and quickly examined Hanna’s house, too, before she returned.

People called in from all over the lake. They searched and reported what they found or didn’t find. When Alice came back from searching her cabin, a sense of urgency knotted Duncan’s stomach.

“Alice, I’m going with Tom. We’ll take the four-wheelers out the old mining road. I’ll have the cell phone if anything comes up, maybe it’ll work today.”

Alice nodded, she touched Tom’s arm and as he walked past her, her hand drifted from his elbow to his hand, ending in a brief squeeze. Duncan envied the subtle exchange between the two. “Should we call the Troopers yet?” she asked in a subdued voice

“Yes, I think we should.” Tom’s reply settled like a pall of fog in the room.

Tom’s deliberate and measured pace held Duncan’s temptation to roar out the road in check. At Tom’s methodical speed, it took a while to break out of the brush and tall trees behind the lake.

In Nell’s state of mind, there would be no rhyme or reasoning to follow, so a random search was as good as any. Still, the idea of an old woman being out in the elements overnight sharpened the men’s anxiety. It hadn’t frozen last night, but the temperature hovered around thirty-eight degrees.

Tom pointed to the trail, and went on. Fresh bear scat made Duncan acutely aware that bears and wolves weren’t the only dangers present in this beautiful and desolate place.

The rough track was slow going. Tom took the lead, and they stopped and turned off the four-wheelers every quarter mile or less. The quiet was dense in the expanse of tundra surrounding them. “Nell,” Tom shouted. “Hello, Nell?” They listened intently. Bird song and emptiness were the only reply.

Four hours into the ordeal Tom stopped, again. The quiet was marked by the sound of a plane low and close. Duncan’s heart leaped when he recognized the plane. It passed and circled ahead of them then it turned and came back.

When Tom waved, the plane tipped its wings in return and circled even lower. It was Hanna in the cockpit, and she pointed ahead of where Tom and Duncan were headed on the rutted and infrequently used trail. Tom fired up his machine, and Duncan followed, this time they didn’t stop, they moved forward at a purposeful speed.

After a long mile, Duncan could see two figures moving slowly toward them.

Nell walked in slow motion. Even though she was taller than the Shaman, he appeared to tower over her. Her frail shuffle matched his tenacious short stride.

The missing dog remained close to Nell. His hackles raised, and they relaxed only when Tom and Duncan stopped and swung down from their machines. Embarrassment and concern washed over Nameless when he approached Duncan. He slunk in close and stayed out of reach from Duncan’s fingers.

“Come here you good boy.” Duncan squatted down, and the pup allowed himself to be petted only briefly. He nervously returned to Nell’s side.

Duncan stood up, taking in the strange scene.

Nell, disheveled and remote, was holding hands with the Shaman. His hands were creased with grime, and his clothes showed no change from the last time Duncan had seen him. Nameless circled anxiously around Nell and the Shaman.

Duncan tenderly took Nell’s arm and guided her to the four-wheeler. He lifted her gently and set her sidesaddle on the seat. “I got lost,” Nell whispered.

“I know, but you’re safe now.” Duncan put his oversized fleece jacket on her, directing her arms into the sleeves as if she were a four-year-old.

Her sad and frightened ambiguity touched Duncan. “I’ve never been lost before,” she said.

“We’re going to get you back to the lodge and you’ll be fine. You don’t have to be afraid.” Duncan started to turn and Nell grasped his arm.

“Please.” A tear spun its way down her cheek. “Take care of my lodge. I love it so much, but I’m too old now. I can’t stay.”

Duncan couldn’t think of any empty platitudes so he put an arm around her shoulders. “Nell, it’s time to move on.”

She rested her head on his chest. Her shoulders shook briefly, and Duncan thought for a moment she was crying. Then he heard a chuckle, “Oh, Harry. I know you’re right. I was being obstinate. I love you, too.”

Duncan stood by the machine and let Nell lean into him. He tossed the cell phone over to Tom, who dialed the lodge. It only took two scratchy, dropped calls to confirm they had found Nell.

“Hanna called ’um too,” Tom said as he dropped the phone into his chest pocket.

Duncan resettled Nell’s legs straddling the seat.

Tom climbed onto his machine and started to turn it around. “Hey, wait.” Tom called to the Shaman, “Ride with us.”

The little man shook his head and walked past Tom to stand in front of Nell.

Prickles crawled up the back of Duncan’s neck as he stood aside. He glanced over at Tom and was reassured by his calm shrug.

Nell sat calmly, her eyes locked to the Shaman’s as he placed his hands on either side of her head. Her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes cleared. A faint smile drifted across her face.

The Shaman took his hands away and looked at Tom. “I don’t want to go to the lodge.”

“Okay,” Tom drawled. He touched the bill of his cap. “You’re a good neighbor. Thank you.”

The Shaman dipped his head with a shy vacant smile and began to walk back the way he’d come.

Nameless followed him for a couple of yards and stopped. He studied the departing figure and then turned and came back to sit at Duncan’s feet.

“Thanks,” Duncan said. He leaned over and gave a gentle scratch behind the dog’s ears. Then he pointed, “You ride with Tom.” Tom patted the seat behind him and Nameless scampered up, balancing on the back of the machine.

Six low flying tundra swans broke the silence as they passed overhead calling back and forth to one another. Nell lifted her head, and her gaze followed the birds. “They’re starting to bunch up. They’ll leave soon, ya’ know,” she said. “Maybe I’ll come visit in the spring when they come back.”

Duncan watched the beautiful white swans until they were specks on the horizon. “That would be nice, Nell.” This time he meant it.

Chapter 26

Hanna had been gone from Cotton Grass Lake for almost three weeks, and she wanted to go home.

The trip to Dillingham had not done what she expected. Her uncle was kind, but he didn’t tell her what to do, he let her babble about all her options and then said it was her decision. Which wasn’t what she wanted.

After returning from Dillingham, she had more business with Charlie’s estate which required a leave of absence from Arctic Cargo.

During the day the new routine kept her hands busy and her mind occupied. She rambled around her apartment waiting for the mail to give her a direction to go. People to see, calls to make, but she wanted to go home. She rewrote the list from the day before again and again and stared off into space.

In her cold, lifeless apartment, she couldn’t stay warm. She went to bed, often with all her clothes on. The sad tears she cried morphed from missing Charlie to hating Duncan and back. She needed to wrap herself in Cotton Grass Lake and wallow in her misery. She needed to feel grounded again, not scattered and afraid and unsure of herself. Her life had always been so assured and well ordered. Now, she had only chaos and uncertainty.

Duncan had been a terrible mistake, and she had paid the price with tears and guilt. She’d known how this love affair was going to work out, and she’d been right. She needed someone to help her with the sadness of Charlie’s death and what she got was a no-show. Like most of the men in her life, a no-show.

Duncan’s voice on her answering machine elicited an angry punch on the delete button. She didn’t even listen to the message.

Two weeks of tension took its toll. Her body hurt all over, breathing burned the muscles in her chest. Now, she wanted to go home, and Duncan was there keeping her away from everything she needed to heal the pain.