Wings of Promise (19 page)

Her mind reeling with questions and fears, she flew over the Clarksons’ airfield. Mike’s plane wasn’t there. She set down, and leaving the engine running, Kate ran toward a small cabin.

Julie Clarkson stepped onto a porch with a wooden railing, her two-year-old son in her arms. She wiped her free hand on an apron draped over a rounded stomach. She was due to have another baby in a few weeks.

“Kate?” She squinted against the sun. “I thought David was flying out today with Mike.”

“He’s not here?”

“No. Should he be?” The tenor of Julie’s voice rose.

Kate combed her fingers through the thick hair on Angel’s neck. The dog had stayed with her instead of heading off to investigate, as if knowing Kate needed her. “Mike and David left early this morning. Mike sent in a call for help, saying he was putting the plane down. I was hoping he’d made it here.”

Although her insides quivered with anxiety, Kate managed to maintain a facade of composure. “I’m sure they’re fine. Probably just had a little trouble with the engine and Mike found a safe place to set down. He’s one of the best pilots you’ll ever find, and he can land just about anywhere. We’ve just got to find him.” She forced a smile.

Julie pulled the toddler closer. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Where do you think they are?”

“Don’t know just yet. But we’ve got several planes out searching. I’d better get back in the air. We’ll have David home soon.” The color had drained from Julie’s face, and Kate feared she might faint. Resting a hand on her arm, she asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Julie brushed at her tears. “Just find David for me.”

“We will. Maybe you should lie down. Try not to worry.”

Wishing she were able to follow her own advice, Kate loped back to the plane. When she climbed aboard she heard the crackle of the radio. “Pacemaker 221, this is Anchorage airport. Over.”

Kate scrambled into the front seat and picked up the radio. “This is Pacemaker 221. Go ahead. Over.”

There was a pause, then the radio came to life again. “We found Mike. Over.”

Kate’s heart pummeled against her ribs. “Is he all right? Over.”

No answer, then Jack said quietly, “Sorry, Kate. Mike . . . ,” the radio crackled, “. . . make it. Neither did David Clarkson. Over.”

Kate couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “You’re breaking up. Say again. Over.”

“Mike and David didn’t make it. Over.”

Kate dropped the handset. The world tipped. Didn’t make it? No. It wasn’t possible. Mike was the best. She stared at a lone spruce. He couldn’t be dead. Terrence and Muriel were coming for dinner and he was going to announce their engagement.

Kate broke into sobs. “No . . . No . . . Not Mike.”

Her eyes trailed to the cabin. She’d have to tell Julie.

Sidney, Kenny, and Paul joined three other friends of Mike’s and carried his casket out of the church, down the front steps, and to a waiting hearse. Kate followed. Her heart ached and felt as if it were made of lead. Helen stood at her side and circled an arm around Kate’s shoulders. Kate leaned against her, then looked back at the church. This was the place they’d planned to begin their life together. Instead Kate was saying good-bye.

She rested a hand over the tiny gold airplane that hung around her neck—the one Mike had given to her at Christmas. She remembered her surprise at the special gift. He’d had it made just for her. Anger mingled with her sorrow. Why had he died? He didn’t deserve it. Where had God been?

She gazed out over the parking lot packed with cars. Everyone loved Mike. She loved Mike. Why had she waited so long to let him know? So many days wasted. Tears blurred her vision.

Albert moved down the steps and reached out to help her take the last one. He kept a gentle hold on her arm as she walked along the pathway. Again, her fingers found the necklace. Had she known all those months ago that she loved him? Even when she’d been seeing Paul? Maybe what she felt for Paul had been infatuation. From the first day she and Mike had met, she’d cared about him and knew she always would. Mike was supposed to always be there. Now he was gone. Alison’s death had been hard enough, but this was unbearable.

Mike’s casket was lifted into the hearse and slid inside. Kate had a horrible sensation that the hearse was swallowing him. Her legs went weak and she feared she might faint.

She leaned against Albert as he steered her toward his car and then opened the door. Kate sat on the backseat. Helen moved in beside her. She took a handkerchief out of her handbag and gave it to Kate.

“Thank you.” Kate dabbed at her unending tears. Albert turned onto the street and followed the hearse on its journey to the cemetery.

When the men placed the casket beside an open grave, Kate couldn’t look at it. Mike didn’t belong in the ground. His place was in the sky. And then Kate remembered—he was flying, with the Lord. The clarity of that knowledge warmed her heart.

Stiffly, she made her way to the graveside where friends had gathered. Helen and Albert remained at her side. Muriel caught her eye and nodded reassurance.

As the reverend spoke, Kate twisted the engagement ring around her finger. She wondered if she should have placed it in the casket with Mike. She looked up to find Muriel staring at the ring. Their tear-filled eyes met and Muriel smiled gently.

Kate tucked her hands behind her back and allowed her gaze to roam across the small cemetery. The close-cropped grass was adorned with small pink, yellow, and blue wildflowers, the last of the season. Radiant fireweed trembled in the breeze, seeming to whisper condolences. The arms of an oak protectively sheltered the grave site. Mike would have liked this spot.

The minister ended with a prayer and then a woman from the church, whom Kate barely knew, sang “Jesus Is Passing This Way.” When she finished, the crowd slowly dispersed. Kate remained. She didn’t want to leave Mike. He’d be alone.

She rested a hand on the casket.
Why did you have to go? We were just beginning
. The weight in her chest grew heavier and she choked back sobs. She looked up and caught sight of Paul. He stood several yards away and seemed to be waiting for her. Brushing at her tears, she blew into the handkerchief, then turned back to the casket. “You were my best friend. I’ll never forget you. Never.”

Her legs barely held her as she walked toward the car where Muriel, Helen, and Albert waited. Paul moved toward her and she felt rising panic. She couldn’t talk to him. Not today. This day belonged to Mike.

Having no alternative, she threw back her shoulders and waited.

Paul stopped, leaving only a couple of feet between them. When he acted as if he might reach out for her hands, she hugged herself about the waist. “Kate, I just want you to know how sorry I am. Mike was an upstanding person. I admired him.”

“He liked you too.”

Paul glanced at Albert and Helen. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

“Sure.” Kate squeezed back tears.

With a slight bob of his head, Paul turned and walked away. He held his shoulders high and his spine straight. He didn’t look back.

I
t was mid-September, and the chill wind of fall swept up small whitecaps on the lake, sifting a fine spray across the tops of the waves. Kate’s hair blew into her eyes. She didn’t mind. She liked the wind. It made her feel alive.

The days since Mike’s funeral had dragged and the nights were interminable. His absence had left an emptiness in her—a constant ache that she felt even in the dead of sleep. Since their first meeting he’d been her friend, someone she could count on. What would she do without him? Work. She needed to work.

Coughing into her sleeve, she headed for the shop, Angel at her side. The dog had stayed close since Mike’s death, seeming to sense Kate’s loneliness and the need for companionship.

Feeling a sneeze coming on, Kate pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. She’d picked up a cold somewhere, but was determined to fly anyway. Jack had kept her grounded and fear had niggled its way into her thinking. She had to get back in the air before it took hold.

When she reached the shop door, she stopped. Facing the guys would be hard. She hadn’t seen them since the funeral. She didn’t know how to act. Did she behave as if nothing had happened? Or should she talk about Mike? No. She couldn’t do that yet.

She opened the door and stepped inside, her hand resting on Angel’s head.

Jack, Kenny, and Alan looked at her. No one spoke. Kenny gave her a nod and then shoved a piece of wood into the stove. Keeping his face turned away from her, he reached for another piece and thrust it into the fire. Alan turned back to working on a piece of equipment at the bench.

Jack puffed on a cigar. “Didn’t figure you’d be back so soon. We’re not busy right now. Maybe a little more time . . .” His tone was uncharacteristically cordial.

“Thanks, but I’d rather work.” Kate moved to the back room door. For a moment, she expected to find Mike sorting mail for her. She stood in the doorway. He wasn’t there. He’d never be there again.

“It’s only been a few days,” Alan said in his quiet voice. He offered a sympathetic smile.

“I’ve had enough time.”

“You’re sure?” Jack stubbed out his cigar.

Tears demanded release, but Kate held them back. “I’m ready to work.”

“Okay then.” Jack looked at the schedule. “Paul has some calls to make. You want to take him?”

Paul? Kate had hoped for something less personal—a scouting crew or a homesteader needing a ride back to his family. “Sure,” she said. “No problem. I’ll need a flight plan and I’ll be on my way.” She coughed.

“You sick?”

“Just a slight cold. I’m fine.” The room swirled momentarily and Kate held on to the doorframe, hoping Jack hadn’t noticed her unsteadiness. She probably didn’t even have a cold—this was probably caused from all the crying she’d done. If she could stay busy, she’d feel better. After all, stuffing down her feelings for Paul had gotten easier each time she’d had to work with him over the summer. So being with someone like Paul would help her hold back her tears.

Kate took the list of stops from Jack and scanned it. There were several between Anchorage and Kotzebue and then she’d hopscotch from Kotzebue to Fairbanks and then back down to Nenana, Talkeetna, and Palmer. It would take several days, which Kate normally wouldn’t mind, but she didn’t want to spend too much time with Paul.

Get used to it.
It’s part of your job
. A stab of misery hit her. There’d been a time when she’d longed for more trips with Paul. Now it was Mike she missed. There’d be no more runs with him, no teasing or burned meals, or sardine dinners.

Kate headed for the door. “I’ll stay in touch and see you in a week or so.” As she said the words, the reality that she might not make it back hit her in the gut. Every good-bye for a pilot could be their last.

With the engine roaring in her ears, Kate checked her instruments. In her mind she could see Mike following the same procedures. He’d always been methodical, checking everything to make sure all was in order. What good had it done him? Fear swirled through her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, which made her lungs hurt.

“You ready, girl?” she asked Angel, giving her a pat. The dog put a paw on Kate’s arm as if to say yes. “All right, then. Time to get back at it.” Shaking off a sense of dread, Kate taxied onto the runway and turned the plane into the wind.

It would be a bumpy ride, but she’d had her share of those. She barreled down the length of the airstrip, feeling every jolt and thump. When the wheels left the ground, the plane felt heavier than usual, not quite right. Was something wrong? Her pulse picked up.

Stop it
, she told herself, refusing to let what had happened to Mike victimize her. The nights were worse. She dreamed about him and his accident and she’d wake up, wondering if he’d suffered. She knew that, just like Mike, one day her luck could run out.

Helen and Muriel had been a comfort. Helen brought food and good wishes with her every day when she came into the store. One day, Kate had broken down and Helen just held her. The words of comfort she shared came back to Kate now like a balm. “God knows when it’s our time to go home. And his hand is upon you, Kate. Trust in him, not in circumstances.”

“Trust him,” she said, forcing her mind back to flying. She thought over the route. She’d pick up Paul and they’d head north. It would be good to see Nena and Joe and the kids. Nena was sweet and full of love. And the children made her laugh.

Against her will, her mind trailed back to Mike and the life they could have shared. They’d have had beautiful children. He would have been a terrific father, full of fun and surprises. Tears trailed down her cheeks and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

A crosswind hit the plane, thumping it hard. Fear thudded through Kate. It wasn’t unusual to be hit by crosswinds, and her Bellanca was barely bothered by them. She knew that. Still, she seemed to have no power to stop the alarm that bristled through her.

She was relieved to spot the Susitna River. Bear Creek was close.

When she reached the creek, she buzzed it, making sure her landing site was clear. The trees and brush reached out over the sandbar. It didn’t look like there was enough space. She shook her head. She’d put down here a hundred times. There was plenty of room. At the last moment, Kate pulled up and climbed above the trees, trying to control the quaking in her hands.

Stop it! You’re being foolish
.

She came around again, staring at Patrick and Sassa’s rooftop and the smoke drifting from their chimney. Everything was as it should be. Kate relaxed her grip and dropped her shoulders. “Get ahold of yourself,” she said. “Nothing’s changed. You’re the same pilot you were before Mike died, a good one. And you’ve got a dependable plane.” Angel whined. Kate reached over and buried her fingers in the dog’s ruff. “It’s all right, girl. We’re fine.”

With fresh determination, she circled back and set up her approach. This time she stayed on her heading and gently set the plane down on the sandbar. Paul was already waiting there for her, medical bag in hand and pack slung over one shoulder.

Kate had barely stopped when he climbed in. He tossed in his pack and closed the door, then set his bag on a seat and made his way to the front. “Hi. What happened? You having some kind of trouble with the plane?”

“No. Just wasn’t lined up right. Better safe than sorry.” Kate did her best to keep her voice relaxed. “So, Patrick drop you off?”

“Yeah.” He looked at her kindly. “You all right?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice sounded nasally.

“Didn’t expect you. Figured one of the other pilots would pick me up.”

“We’re short on pilots,” Kate said dryly, then blew her nose into a handkerchief.

“Maybe you should have taken more time off. It’s only been a few days since the funeral.”

“I needed to get back in the air. That’s what Mike would have done.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Paul reached over and gave Kate’s arm a squeeze. “You feeling all right? You don’t sound too good, kind of hoarse.”

“I’ve got a cold . . . or something. Nothing to worry about.” She sniffled into her handkerchief before heading to the end of the sandbar and setting up for takeoff. Again, fear crept into her mind. She ignored it and kicked up her speed, lifting off without difficulty.

Hoping to keep things businesslike, Kate immediately started going through the schedule. “We have stops at a couple of homesteads. One has an elderly parent who’s not doing well and the other family has a child with tonsillitis. After that, we’ll stop at the mine. There’s always a ration of troubles there.”

Paul chuckled. “Those miners would have a whole lot fewer problems if they’d stay out of the hooch and learn some basic hygiene.”

Any other time, Kate would have laughed and bounced back a snappy reply. Today she didn’t have it in her. There was no laughter inside. She ignored Paul’s teasing and continued to read off the list of stops.

“It’ll be nice to see Nena and Joe. How’ve they been?” Paul’s tone was cheerier than usual.

“Fine, last I heard.”

Conversation fell off. Finally, Paul said, “Kate, you don’t have to talk about what happened. But sometimes it helps.”

“It doesn’t. I . . . I can’t talk about it, not yet.”

“I know it’s painful, but maybe you should try.”

Kate wasn’t ready. Anger and frustration flamed. “How would you know? You’ve never talked to me about what happened in California. As far as I know, you’ve never talked to anyone about it.”

Paul started to say something, then set his jaw, folded his arms over his chest, and stared straight ahead. Finally, he said, “It’s not always so easy. When you lose someone you love, it leaves a hole inside. And it feels like nothing and no one will ever fill it.”

Immediately guilt swept over Kate. Paul hadn’t deserved harsh words. He was only trying to help. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know you’ve had a hard time. I’m not myself.” Kate coughed. Her chest felt tight.

“That’s a cold. Doesn’t sound like you should be working.” Paul eyed her paternally.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but Kate knew she was getting worse. Her head felt stuffed up and she could feel a wheeze in her chest when she breathed. “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want Paul to check on her, to be that close. And she didn’t want him to care, not now.

They stopped at two homesteads. At the first one, Paul gave an elderly man a thorough checkup and left instructions with his daughter on how to care for him. He advised the parents at the second stop to schedule their son for surgery to remove his tonsils. The next place was the mine. By the time they’d finished doctoring several men, it was late in the day and they were forced to stay over. Kate’s accommodation was a tent and a cot. The tightness in her chest had developed into a cough. That and a plugged nose made sleep nearly impossible. Paul checked on her once during the night and gave her something to quiet the cough. After that, she managed a few hours’ sleep.

Morning arrived with gray clouds and drizzle. While Paul had a look at a couple of miners he hadn’t gotten to the previous day, Kate readied the plane. She did her best to ignore the pain in her throat and chest, and her throbbing head. With the engine warming, she huddled in the cockpit, unable to get warm.

By the time Paul showed up, she was losing patience. They had a lot of miles to cover before they reached McGrath. She was already thinking about a warm bed and a good night’s sleep.

Paul finally climbed into the plane. “Sorry,” he said, dropping into his seat. “But one of the men sliced up his hand pretty badly with a hatchet while cutting kindling this morning.”

“Oh,” Kate croaked, feeling guilty at her irritability.

“You don’t sound good. Maybe we ought to stay put for a couple of days so you can rest.”

“No thanks. A tent and a cot isn’t what I have in mind for tonight.” She headed the plane down a rough, grassy airstrip. Rain splattered the windshield and the window fogged up. Kate could barely see. It was too late to abort the takeoff, so trusting her instincts, she increased speed and guided the plane into the air. Her confidence grew.

The next two days passed in a haze of coughing and pain. Kate’s head and face throbbed in spite of the aspirin Paul dispensed. She pushed on, unwilling to give up. Besides, working helped keep her mind off of Mike.

When they landed in Kotzebue, it felt like winter had already arrived. The ground was covered with frost and a chill wind blew in from Kotzebue Sound.

Joe and Paul secured the plane while Kate drained the oil. She couldn’t risk it freezing. With that done, the three of them covered the fuselage with a tarp and then headed toward town. Angel trotted ahead of them. She knew where they were headed.

Nena greeted Kate and Paul with a smile. “Good to see you.” She pulled Kate into her arms. “I’m so sorry about Mike. We weep for you and know you must be missing him terrible. He was a good man.”

Kate didn’t know how to answer. Everyone was sorry, but their words didn’t help. “Mike lived the way he wanted” was all she could think of to say.

The Turchik children sprinted toward Kate and embraced her around the legs. She gave them each a hug, fighting back tears. It felt good to be loved, but somehow the affection only made her feelings of loss more intense. Angel pushed between Kate and the children, demanding attention. Laughing, the children buried her with hugs and kisses.

Nena enfolded Kate in her arms, and then held her away from her. “You have a fever.” She studied Kate. “You’re sick?”

“Just a cold.”

“I can hear it and see it. You have more than a cold.” Nena looked at Paul.

“She won’t let me help.” He shrugged. “Stubborn.”

Nena led Kate to a chair. “You sit and let the doctor fix you.”

Kate was too tired to argue, so she sat down. Nena took her coat.

Paul set his medical bag on the table. He palpated Kate’s neck. “You’ve got some very unhappy glands.” He took a tongue depressor out of his bag. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” He grinned.

Kate almost smiled.

He examined her throat, then using his stethoscope he listened to her heart. “Take a deep breath.” Kate did as instructed, which set off a bout of coughing. When she quieted, he moved the stethoscope from place to place, each time asking her to breathe. “I don’t hear any pneumonia. That’s good.”