Authors: Dana Stabenow
Implicit in her acceptance of Kate's right to remain was an expectancy of self-sacrifice upon the altar of Ekaterina Moonin Shugak's almighty tribe, and an equally implicit assumption of Kate's presence among the host of the all-volunteer army to preserve and protect it. Kate resented it, resented her grandmother's appropriation of her time. The garage walls needed insulating and she had planned to wire it for electricity so she could plug in a space heater and have a warm place to putter during the cold winter months. The snow machine needed a tune up to make it fit for the round trip to Niniltna, so she could pick up her mail each month. There were traps in need of repair, plans for a new bookcase, and long walks to take with Mutt before the first snow fell.
She had books to read, and bread to bake, and wood to split. Her place was here, on the homestead, not two hundred miles away in a city she disliked as much as she distrusted.
Mutt nosed her arm and Kate looked down. Mutt's eyes were wide and wise, as wise as Ekaterina's. She stood three feet at the shoulder and weighed in at 140 pounds, all of it muscle. There was Husky in her solid torso; her long legs and her smarts were all wolf. Proving it, she nosed Kate under the arm again. "All right, all right, don't get pushy." Kate rose on stiff legs and led the way back inside.
A neat pile of folded sheets and blankets rested on one end of the couch. Ekaterina was at the stove. She turned at Kate's entrance to hand her a plate full of eggs over easy, moose steak fried crisp on the outside and rare on the inside and toast made from homemade bread dripping with butter. Kate sat and began to eat. Ekaterina served herself and sat down across from her.
When her plate was cleared, Kate poured coffee and carried both mugs back to the table. Ekaterina started to clear the breakfast dishes and Kate said, "No, emaa, sit. I'll do it in a minute." She sugared and creamed her coffee, blew across the steaming surface and sipped. "After, I'll take the truck into Niniltna and get Bobby to call Jack, see if he'll come out and pick us up tomorrow. If not, we can always fly George. If the Skywagon's running, which isn't likely. How much does he charge for a one-way into Anchorage these days?"
"You are coming to town with me?"
As if you didn't know, Kate thought, and gave a curt nod. "I can sniff around the convention, maybe talk to Billy, see how he feels so you'll know what to expect when it comes time to speak out on Iqaluk. Maybe talk to Enakenty, too, just to make sure he's still on our side. The board doesn't meet until a week from today, next Saturday, right?"
"You are coming with me?" Ekaterina repeated.
It could have been the hint of disbelief in Ekaterina's voice that did it. It might have been the slight, incredulous lift of her left eyebrow.
Or maybe it was the way one corner of her mouth quirked in an expression that wasn't quite a smile.
Whatever it was, it caused Kate to add, "My fee is four hundred a day.
Plus expenses." She drank coffee, and said with elaborate nonchalance,
"I'll throw in the expenses." She looked Ekaterina straight in the eye and added,"
"Family rate."
Ekaterina's eyebrow stayed where it was as one hand delved into a pocket of her jeans and produced a folded white envelope. Inside the envelope were ten one-hundred dollar bills, creased from residing in Ekaterina's pocket for the last three days. "You call that one a retainer, I think."
On the face of another, less dignified woman, Ekaterina's expression might have been called smug. Ten years ago, even one year ago, Kate would have said so. Today, she closed the envelope, folded it twice and stuck it into the back pocket of her jeans.
IN NINILTNA, THE VILLAGE TWENTY-FIVE MILES DOWN THE old Kanuyaq River &
Northern Railroad roadbed from Kate's homestead, the airport consisted of a single dirt strip forty-eight hundred feet long with a wind sock stuck on a pole at one end. There were half a dozen planes tied down next to the hangar on one side of the strip and a log cabin post office on the other side, the U.S. flag flying next to it. On a busy day in the summer during the salmon season or in the fall during moose season there were maybe forty planes in and out every day, but that would have to be on a weekend and a CAVU weekend at that, ceiling and visibility unlimited. The Niniltna strip was just about Kate's speed, maybe even a little over it more often than she would like.
In Anchorage, two air hours away southwest, Merrill Field handled up to a thousand operations per day, a traffic load generated by air taxies hauling passengers from Tyonek to Mcgrath, air freight outfits hauling cases of pilot bread to Nabesna and castellated wing nuts to Nome, and eight flight schools, whose students kept the dozen aircraft parts stores in business. The airfield was surrounded on four sides by the city of Anchorage, which included four other airports: Anchorage International Airport, these days a subcontractor for Federal Express;
Elmendorf Air Force Base, which since the Cold War ended was doing more Air Sea Rescue operations than they were scrambling to intercept Soviet Backfire bombers; Lake Hood, which boasted the largest per capita population of float plane owners in the world; and Campbell Airstrip, a dirt strip cozied up to the Chugach Mountains, which made for interesting crosswinds.
All of which meant that at any given moment on any given day of the year there were more people in the air over Anchorage than there were on the ground in Niniltna, including the student pilot who tried to land on Merrill's Runway 1533 at the same time they did. Jack's hands were steady on the yoke and his face was calm but Kate, holding the Cessna
172 up in the air by the edge of her seat, noticed that the line of his jaw was very tight, never a good sign. Once they were safely on the ground, Kate could even find it in her heart to feel sorry for the student pilot.
They taxied to Jack's tie down and he left Ekaterina and Kate to unload while he went over to discuss the little matter of the straying student pilot and his inattentive instructor with Merrill Tower. When he came back, his almost-ugly face was as serene as before. Kate looked for blood on his hands, didn't find any, and deduced that the tower had promised to handle the situation, though probably with less blood spilled than Jack had demanded. She tested the line on the right wing, judged it tight enough to hold the Cessna steady against any wind, stowed her duffel in Jack's Blazer and climbed into the back seat. Jack got in behind the wheel, next to Ekaterina. "Where am I driving you ladies?" he inquired, looking into the rear view at Kate.
"The Sheraton," Ekaterina said.
"Your place," Kate said at the same time.
Jack's blue eyes held Kate's.
"I'll be staying at Jack's, emaa," Kate said to her grandmother's bun.
Ekaterina didn't turn or speak. "Next stop, the Sheraton," Jack said brightly, and started the Blazer.
The Sheraton was ten blocks from the airport and the trip was accomplished in silence. Kate carried Ekaterina's bags up to her room and set them on the bed. There was a pad and pencil next to the phone; she scribbled down Jack's number. Ekaterina watched her, impassive. "So.
I'll be going."
Ekaterina said nothing.
Grandmothers are better at guilt than anyone, even mothers. With subtle guile, Kate said, "Maybe we should make Jack buy us dinner. How about Mama Nicco's?"
Ekaterina's face didn't move a muscle. She wasn't going to be easy or cheap. "Lasagna?"
Kate hid a smile. Everyone had their weak spot, and her grandmother was a closet Italian. "And garlic bread, and maybe even tiramisu."
"Tiramisu? What's that?"
"Something Jack introduced me to last time I was in town. You'll love it. So. We'll pick you up downstairs at six?"
The phone rang before Ekaterina could answer. "Aha," Kate said, "you can run, but you can't hide. How much you want to bet that's Billy Mike?"
Ekaterina answered the phone. "Hello. Yes. Hello, Billy. Yes, we just got in. Kate. Yes, she is here, too. No. No, not yet." She covered the mouthpiece and looked at Kate.
Kate understood. "See you at seven. Downstairs, at the front door?"
Ekaterina nodded and Kate let herself out of the room.
In the elevator, she wondered what Ekaterina was now discussing with Billy Mike that she did not want her granddaughter to overhear.
Jack's townhouse stood on the edge of Westchester Lagoon, facing south.
The garage was in the basement, the kitchen, living room, dining room, den and half bath on the second floor, and three bedrooms and two full bathrooms on the third floor. Upon arrival on previous visits to Anchorage, Kate rarely caught more than a passing glimpse of the first two floors before it was instantly and invariably replaced by a view of the ceiling in the master bedroom on the third. Contrary to standard operating procedure, this afternoon Jack seemed to be loitering with intent over the hang of her jacket from the hook by the door. "What's wrong?" she said, truth to tell a little disappointed. She had been looking forward to rewarding Jack for his care package since she'd made the decision to come to Anchorage. They'd been in the house five whole minutes without him making a move, and she was starting to feel like a woman scorned.
He turned. "Why should anything be wrong?"
She folded her arms, one eyebrow raised in polite incredulity, looking, did she but know it, the spitting image of her grandmother in that moment.
He sighed. "Want a Diet 7Up?"
The eyebrow went down and the corners of the mouth curved up. "Why, Jack. You shopped for me. This must be love."
Embarrassed to be caught out in a display of sentiment, Jack said,
"Yeah, yeah, you want one or not?"
He got her the 7-Up, himself a beer and Mutt a bowl of water and they adjourned the discussion to the living room. She sat on the couch, he on a chair. She gave a pointed look at the acre of empty couch surrounding her, he refused to be baited. She pouted a little. Not proof against a pout of that wattage, he told her to cut it out. They compromised on him moving to the couch and her promising to keep her hands to herself. He palliated the severity of the sentence by draping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. When she slid over, she felt the tension in the line of his body. She tipped her head back to study his face. "What's going on, Jack? You're wound up tighter than a clock spring."
He tilted the bottle of Full Sail Golden Ale and drank deep. "We go to court tomorrow."
It was such a non of a sequitur that she was confused. "Who do? You mean the office? You're testifying? What, a case?"
The rigidity she'd attributed to the near miss with the student pilot was back in his jawline. Come to think of it, he hadn't said much more than hello since Niniltna. "I'm testifying, yes, but it's not in a case for the office." He looked at her and she recoiled inwardly from what she saw there. "Jane's coming after Johnny."
"What?"
"She wants full custody." Kate sat up. "Wait a minute. You told me last month she'd agreed to an interim settlement. You told me Johnny told Judge Reese he wanted to live with you, and that Jane had agreed, and so had the judge."
"She changed her mind."
He was angry, a steady, bone-deep rage. It radiated off him in waves, like heat. "I see," Kate said.
"No," he said, very precisely, "you do not see."
"You're right, I don't," she said at once.
"Don't be so goddam soothing," he barked.
"Sorry."
"And don't be so goddam apologetic when I yell at you."
"Okay."
"And don't be so goddam agreeable when I'm correcting your behavior!"
Mutt sent them an annoyed look, rose to her feet and turned three circles, laying down again with her back to them.
Into the silence Kate said in a soft voice, "I won't let you pick a fight with me, Jack." She added, "Not over this, anyway."
Half his remaining beer disappeared in a single gulp. He closed his eyes and ran his free hand through a thatch of brown curls that hadn't been very tidy to begin with. When he spoke again, this time she heard the fear underlying the anger. "There's nothing I can do, Kate, except show up tomorrow and pray there's at least one human bone in Reese's body."
"He won't like it that she backed out of the interim agreement," Kate said. "Judges never do like that."
"Makes more work for them," Jack agreed. He opened his eyes and looked at Kate. "Will you testify?"
She was startled. "To what? Everything I know is hearsay."
"You picked him up at the 7-Eleven last March, when she took his shoes away to keep him from walking over here."
She was silent, frowning down at the can she held between both hands.
"For a devout and practicing Catholic, old Jane sure doesn't go in for Christian charity in a big way, does she?"
"Nope."
"She still think I'm the whore of Babylon?"
Jack nodded. "Everybody needs somebody to hate."
"Glad to be of service," Kate said, an edge to the words.
"Don't make this about you. It isn't."
Kate, ashamed of her flare of temper, said, "No, it's not. I'm sorry."
Jack went for another beer. "Will you? Testify?"
"To that one incident?
Yes." She drained the can. "How'd Jane get a court date this soon?"
"Somebody canceled, the archdiocese pulled strings, her lawyer flew the clerk into Theodore River for some silver fishing, take your pick. You know how it works."
"Yes." She went to the kitchen to toss the can in the trash and returned to the living room to stand in front of the window, staring out across the lagoon, a thin, fragile sheet of ice slowly creeping across it, as yet no snow. Like the homestead. She wished with all her heart that she was there instead of here.
Then again, there was one thing available to her in Anchorage she didn't get much of in the Park.
Jack caught the quirk of her mouth. "What's so awful goddam funny, Shugak?"
She grinned at the frozen expanse of water. "You are." Turning, she clasped her hands and cast down her eyes, trying for demure. "You didn't want to seduce me under false pretenses."