Joy Takes Flight (26 page)

“Don't call me Ruthie. My name's Ruth.”

“I think Ruthie sounds a lot sweeter. Gotta make up for your prickles somehow.”

Ruth ignored the remark, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She pulled a pencil and a pad out of her apron pocket. “So, what would you like? And there's no special, just the usual.”

Jack took a toothpick out of a container on the table and stuck it between his teeth. “How 'bout liver and onions. You make the best around. Just make sure you get a thick slab of liver.”

“You know how I make them. It'll be just how you like it.” She turned to Kate. “And how about you, honey?”

“I'd like a toasted cheese sandwich and some potato chips.”

“You want a Coke to go with that?”

“No thanks. Coffee's fine. But I would like a little cream with the coffee.”

“I'll get that for you.” She winked at Jack before walking away, then headed for the counter.

Kate could barely keep from chuckling as she watched a smile emerge on Jack's face. He
was
sweet on her. More interesting than that was Ruth seemed to like Jack.

Kate leaned on the table and said under her breath, “Seems you've been keeping a secret hidden away up here in the valley.”

Jack looked as if he didn't know what she was talking about. “Secret? What secret?” He pushed against the table, straightening his arms and his spine.

“Don't worry. I won't say a thing.” Kate grinned and leaned back in her chair. “But what happened to Linda?”

“She was a little too sweet for my taste.” A devilish grin touched Jack's lips. “Now, a woman like Ruth . . . well, she's something special.”

Ruth returned with the cream. She set a small pitcher down in front of Kate. “Fresh today. Gertrude brought it in.” Ruth shook her head. “Can't imagine milking those filthy cows morning and night, especially during the winter. My hat's off to the farmers around here. It's a hard life.” She tucked her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ears. “I'm happy right where I am. Don't mind cooking, and being here I get to see folks coming and going.”

“You're not busy today.” Jack gazed toward the kitchen. “And where's your help?”

“Sent Sally home. Nearly left myself. Didn't think I'd have any customers. People tend to hide out when the weather gets bad.” She walked toward the kitchen. “I'll have your meals in two shakes.”

Jack watched her go, admiration in his eyes. When she disappeared into the kitchen he turned back to his coffee and took a drink, then stared out the window. “Storm's getting worse.” His lips tightened into a line. “Figure Ruthie's probably right. We'll have to check in at the hotel. Won't make any money this way.”

Kate added cream to her coffee. She didn't want to be here either. She'd planned on being tucked away, warm and safe at the cabin.

Jack set his cup on the table. He stared at the dark brew for a long moment and then cleared his throat. “Been wanting to talk to you.” He pressed a hand over the top of the cup.

Jack only talked to her when something was wrong. This couldn't be good. Her stomach tightened and she set her cup on the table. “What about?”

“A couple of things, actually.” Jack slid his lower jaw to one side. “First off, I wanted you to know that I don't think you had anything to do with Donald's dying. He made his own choice. And Alan never let on how wet behind the ears Donald was. I wouldn't have hired him if I'd known.” He shook his head in disgust. “These young bucks come up here, thinking they're invincible. Next thing you know they're dead.” He took a drink of coffee. “I don't want you carrying around a load of guilt that doesn't belong to you.”

That was the last thing Kate had expected to hear. Ever since she'd gone to work at the airport, anything that went wrong, Jack seemed to find a way to blame her for it. “Well . . . thanks, Jack. I appreciate your saying that. But I wish I'd taken that flight. Instead, all I could think about was getting home.” She let out a breath. “At the very least I should have gone with him.”

“Like I said, none of us knew how green he was. If we had, everyone would have made runs with him to make sure he knew what he was doing.” Jack scrubbed his short-shaven beard.

Kate had never seen him like this. She wondered what had come over him. A crash came from the kitchen. “I hope that's not our dinner.”

“You need any help back there, Ruthie?” Jack called.

She peeked out the door. “No. Don't need no help.”

Jack pushed his empty coffee cup aside and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “And the other thing is . . .” He pushed his tongue into his cheek. “I'm sorry.”

Kate wondered if she'd heard right. “Sorry? About what?”

“I been hard on you . . . from the very beginning. I'm not exactly the easiest guy to get along with no matter who you are, I know that.” He tightened the grip he had on his hands. “But I was harder on you. Figured I'd chase you off easy, but you wouldn't give up.” He dared a glance at her, then looked back at his hands. “When you showed up, I didn't think any woman belonged in a plane, especially not in this territory. And then you turned out to be good. Made me madder than the dickens. Don't know why exactly, but doggone it, a woman pilot shouldn't be better than a guy.”

Kate was stupefied.

He glanced toward the kitchen doorway. “When you left after Mike died, I figured we'd never see you again, that you were just a fragile female like I thought. And then you came back, more determined than ever. And you kept right on flying. It was back then that I started wondering if I'd been unfair. After the baby . . . you showed up for work. I never figured that would happen.”

Kate tightened her hold on her coffee cup. Jack was making it sound like all of it had been easy for her. What would he think if he knew how close she'd come to never flying again?

“You showed me I was wrong. You're as good and maybe even better than any one of us guys.” He licked his lips. “Well, I just needed you to know that.”

“I nearly didn't come back after Mike died,” Kate said. “I'm not brave or anything like that. I just love to fly. Guess that just makes me stupid.” She half smiled. “Like all the rest of you pilots.”

Jack chuckled. “You got that right.” He sat straighter in his chair. “Don't get any ideas about me being soft on you. I'm not. I'm the same mean cuss I've always been.”

“I know,” Kate said, but she felt warm inside. If Jack had come around to see her as a pilot, that meant she'd done what she'd set out to do—prove women could be as good as men when it came to flying. She'd earned her place among the Alaskan pilots. “Thanks for telling me. It means a lot. And I don't think you're as mean as you put on. But I won't tell anyone.” She grinned, but knew that in another moment things would go back to the way they'd been before. That was all right. She knew the truth.

“So, where's that husband of yours? Does he plan on coming back?”

Kate didn't want to talk about Paul, especially when she didn't know what was going on with him. “After his mother died, the family wanted him to help with the estate. And there's a flu outbreak in San Francisco, so he's working at the hospital, helping out. He'll be gone for a while.”

“I thought he had a lot of family. Can't they take care of things like the estate? And he's got a new wife up here and a whole lot of people counting on him. And San Francisco's got plenty of doctors.”

Kate shrugged.

“You tell that man to get himself back up here,” he snarled. “I mean it. He needs to get his rear home.” His voice softened. “If you have to, go get him.”

T
he weather was clear and cold when Kate flew into Anchorage. Her thoughts on Paul, she scrambled out of the plane and hurried toward the shop. Maybe he'd called.

Angel squeezed through the door in front of Kate. Alan was the only one in the shop. Ill at ease, Kate said a quiet hello, signed in, and then asked, “Any telephone messages for me?”

“Nope.” He dunked a sinker into his cup of coffee and took a bite.

Kate felt as if the oxygen had been sucked out of her lungs. Why hadn't he called? Busy or not, he could make time for a simple phone call. Hurt twisted into anger. She'd call him.

Putting aside her ire, Kate approached Alan, who sat behind the desk, his feet propped on an open drawer and his face hidden behind a comic book. He didn't look up. Kate cleared her throat and he peered around the edge of the comic. “I need to say something . . . about Donald . . . You were right. I should have gone with him. Saying I'm sorry won't change anything, but I am . . . sorry.”

Alan put the comic book down. “It's not your fault. Like you said, I'm the one who got him the job in the first place. I knew he had a lot to learn. Just figured I'd have more time to work with him. I apologize for taking my hurt and guilt out on you.”

Kate leaned on the table. “All of us should have made time to help him.”

“Yeah, I guess so, but the fact is he chose to go. Every one of us knows when we take a run we might not come back. He knew it, but he wanted to fly and he was willing to take the risk.”

Kate straightened. “He was just like the rest of us.”

“Yep.” Alan nodded.

Kate moved toward the door. “Jack should be here anytime. I'm heading out to the creek. I'll see you in a few days.” She opened the door. “God willing.”

She stepped outside, pulled the door shut and walked to her car. While it warmed up, she scraped ice off the windows. Disappointment, like a heavy weight, settled over her shoulders. She couldn't think of any good reason why Paul hadn't called.

By the time Kate reached the house, she'd changed her mind about calling him. If he wanted to talk to her, he would've called. She packed a bag and then headed back to the airfield. Once at the cabin, she'd feel better.

Kate flew up the Susitna and as she neared Bear Creek she could feel tight muscles relax. She was nearly home. When she flew over the cabin, feelings of elation and sadness mingled. It would feel like home if Paul were here.

Christmas was less than two weeks away. If he were coming home, he was nearly out of time. Maybe he planned to surprise her. Kate wanted to believe the fantasy, but she knew better. Paul wasn't the spontaneous type.

She flew over the landing strip to check for ruts and debris. All looked well, so she banked the plane and lined up for the landing. When her skis touched down, they bounced over small ridges in the ice. Angel hopped out of her seat and trotted to the door. Kate shut down the engine and climbed into the back. “Okay, you're free,” she said, opening the door. Angel leaped out and ran toward the cabin where Kate could hear the other dogs barking. Angel had a homecoming. If only she did too.

Kate gazed across the frozen creek toward the shoreline. Mostly hidden by trees, the cabin was barely visible. She remembered how homecomings used to be. Smoke would trail from the chimney and Paul would greet her at the creek edge, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her. They'd walk up the path together and she'd be welcomed into a warm home with the aroma of roasting meat or stew. Kate chased away the image. Today he wasn't here.

After she'd secured the plane and drained the oil, Kate grabbed her knapsack and headed across the frozen creek toward the trail. Ice crunched beneath her boots. When she walked into the clearing behind the house, the dogs barked a greeting. She should pay the Warren boys. With Paul's absence, they'd done a lot of extra work with the dogs and deserved to be paid.

Angel tussled with Jackpot and Buck lunged on his lead, straining toward Kate. Nita sat on her haunches, tail whacking the snow-covered ground. Kate walked up to her and rested a hand on the dog's head. “Good to see you, girl.” Nita stood and rubbed against Kate's leg. Kate moved to Buck. “Stay down,” she said. He was too big and might knock her on her backside. After giving him a thorough rubdown, she knelt and put her arms around his neck. Overcome by emotion, she buried her face in his thick ruff.

“Oh, I've missed you,” Kate said, feeling as if she were speaking to Paul. She wiped away tears, told herself to stop being silly and stood.

She freed the three dogs so they could run. All four romped down the trail. Kate smiled. Even without Paul, it was good to be home.

She gazed at the headstone in the clearing and remembered. Her heart ached. Being home would never again be fully satisfying. Someone would always be missing. The snow had been cleared away. Either Sassa or Lily deserved her thanks.

With a heavy sigh, Kate headed indoors. First off, she lit a fire in the stove, then put on a pot of coffee. A quick glance through the cupboards told her she should have stopped at the mercantile in Anchorage. She hadn't been thinking about food. There was enough to cobble together some dinner, but tomorrow she'd have to do some baking and raid the cache.

A knock sounded at the back door. It was Sassa and she was wearing a big smile.

“Hi,” Kate said, opening the door. “How nice to have a visitor.”

“I heard your plane and thought you might want some company. I brought you fresh biscuits with dried highbush cranberries in them.”

“They sound delicious. And your timing is perfect. I was just rummaging through my cupboards and had decided I need to do some baking.” She accepted the basket from Sassa. “Will you share one with me along with a cup of coffee?”

“Oh sure.” Sassa walked indoors and looked around. “So, Paul's not with you?”

“No. He's still in San Francisco.”

Sassa raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more about his absence. Sitting at the table, she clasped her hands in front of her. “How are you?”

“I'm fine—strong as ever.” Kate set the biscuits on the table, took butter out of the cupboard, and placed it beside the biscuits. “Sorry. It's frozen. Maybe it'll soften a little as the room warms up.” She sat. “It'll be a few more minutes before the coffee's ready.” She rested her arms on the table. “How's the family?”

“Good. Lily and Clint are getting married.” Sassa's smile returned.

“I knew they would. When is the wedding?”

“In three days. She'll tell you all about it. I don't think she wanted me to say anything, but . . . how could I keep it a secret?” Sassa laughed. “Good news needs to be shared.”

“I'm happy for them. It's wonderful news.”

“It is. We weren't meant to be alone.” Sassa gazed at her folded hands. “What about you and Paul? Why is he still gone?”

Kate nearly groaned. Instead she tried to make light of Sassa's inquiry. “If I had a penny for every time I've been asked that question.” She made an effort to smile. “Paul's helping with the estate and he's working at the hospital because there is a flu outbreak in the city.”

Sassa compressed her lips and the line of her jaw tightened. “I don't understand any of that. He has a family here.”

Kate didn't want Sassa to be angry with Paul. It only made her feel worse. “He'll be back as soon as he can. I'm sure of it.”

Sassa pushed herself out of her chair and walked to the window. With her arms folded across her chest, she gazed outside. “It's too soon . . . since your child died. There is no good reason for him to be gone, not now.” Her voice was hard.

“He had to go. His mother was deathly ill.”

“Yes.” She turned and looked at Kate. “But now she is gone and that is over.” Creases furrowed her brow. “Paul has never disappointed me . . . until now.” She looked intently at Kate. “This is not right. You go get your husband and bring him home.”

Kate wanted him here, but she wasn't about to drag him back. He had to want to be here. “I . . . I . . .” She let out a huff and then turned her back to Sassa. “I'm beginning to think he wants to stay in San Francisco.”

“No. Not Paul.” Sassa put an arm around Kate's shoulders.

Kate glanced at her. “If he does, I'll have to live there too.”

“Did he say that he wants to stay?”

“No. But he hasn't called me in four days, and the last time I talked to him, he sounded content there, as if he were home.”

Sassa held up a hand. “First, phone calls cost a lot. And you suppose too much. Our minds can play tricks on us.” She smiled softly. “You and Paul belong here. Maybe he needs reminding. You go and help him remember.”

“I'm considering it.”

“Okay. But don't wait too long.”

When Kate went to bed that night, she was unable to sleep. She couldn't decide if she ought to go to San Francisco or not. And if Paul wanted to live there, how would she convince him to return to Alaska? Should she?

She tried to imagine what it would be like and what she would say. When she'd talked to him on the telephone, he hadn't seemed to understand how she felt. Instead of promising to come home, he'd invited her to spend Christmas with him and his family.

Kate finally fell asleep, but there was no peace in slumber. Instead she dreamed a terrible dream. Paul was in a boat way out in the sea. Watching from a much larger boat, Kate knew something terrible was going to happen.

Paul's boat was too small and the wind blew harder and harder and the waves got bigger and bigger. His vessel started to sink. He cried out for help and Kate rowed and rowed. But no matter how hard she rowed, she never got any closer. She watched Paul's boat sink, engulfed by dark waters. For a time, Paul managed to stay afloat. Kate tried to get to him, but he succumbed and disappeared beneath the waves.

When she woke, Kate was shaking. At first it felt real, not like a dream. She climbed out of bed and stood for a moment, still quaking. She filled her lungs with air, then went to the kitchen and splashed her face with cold water. The dream was still close.

She filled a glass with water, then went to the front room where she huddled in a blanket on Paul's chair. If only he were here where she knew he was safe. Had the dream been a sign? Did he need her? Did God still speak to people in dreams?

She had to go after him.

Kate spent the remainder of the night in the chair. She slept, but mostly she waited for daylight. If she was going to San Francisco, there were preparations she needed to make.

Before sunrise, she climbed out of the chair, stoked the fire, and put on coffee. Then she got dressed and pulled on her boots, lacing them up tightly. She took down her parka and put it on, then filled a mug with coffee. Needing brisk air to refresh her mind, she stepped out onto the porch. Sunlight blushed pink in the morning sky. Angel hurried past Kate and ran straight to the other dogs. They greeted one another, whining and tussling, their chains clanking.

It was cold, but Kate didn't mind. Piles of white mounded against the cache and the toolshed. A squawk startled her and she turned to see Jasper sitting on his perch.

“So, you're back.” Kate liked that. In ways she couldn't understand, the bird and Paul were connected in some manner. Having Jasper here made Paul feel closer. Although she knew better, Kate tugged off a glove and reached out to stroke the raven's shiny black head. She was surprised that he didn't peck at her. Instead he remained still and allowed her to touch him. Up until this moment, Jasper had never allowed anyone to touch him, except Paul. Kate's heart warmed as she stroked the bird's head and then ran her finger tips over the feathers on his back. They felt silky.

Why was he allowing this? Was it a sign? Kate had never been one to look for signs, but would she be foolish to ignore them? First, several people had told her to get Paul, then the dream, and now Jasper. Surely it was more than coincidence.

Her voice low and warm she said, “It's good to finally get to know you. I wish I could take you with me. I think Paul would like to see you.” She could hardly wait to tell him that Jasper had allowed her to pet him.

Kate set her mug on the railing, then scraped snow off the top step and sat down. She needed to plan. If she was going to leave, it had to be soon. She wanted to be in San Francisco before Christmas. The idea of surprising Paul tantalized her. Yet fear prodded her. What if he didn't respond the way she hoped? Of course he would. He'd invited her, hadn't he? She didn't much like the idea of spending Christmas with people she didn't know. It was possible they saw her as a threat, someone who would take Paul away from them.

“Hello there,” Lily called as she walked into the yard.

Kate stood. “Hi.”

Lily moved to the bottom of the steps. “What are you doing out here?”

Kate sucked in a deep breath. “I'm enjoying the sunshine, but the cold's about to chase me indoors.” She glanced at the thermometer. It had dropped to 10 degrees.

“It's nice to have you home. How long are you going to be here?”

Kate hadn't solidified her plans yet, so she simply said, “Probably a few days. I'm sure Jack will have work for me soon.”

Lily nodded.

Kate looked out at the headstone that marked her little girl's grave. “Who took care of the grave while I was gone?”

“I did. Well, me and Clint. I thought you'd feel better knowing she wasn't being ignored.”

“That was thoughtful. Thank you. I have fresh coffee and biscuits your mother brought over yesterday. Would you like some?”

“I was hoping you'd ask.” Lily followed Kate indoors and she sat at the table while Kate filled a cup with coffee and set the biscuits on the table.

“I'm thinking about writing to Teddy's father.”