Wings of Promise (21 page)

The boy grinned and ran up the trail.

Paul hauled his canned goods into the shed, and then went to greet his dogs. He gave them each a rubdown before heading indoors.

Once inside, he filled a bowl with cold water, then removed his shirt. He leaned over the bureau in front of the mirror and using a straight razor shaved off two days of whiskers. The house seemed extra quiet. He imagined Kate riding the train south. He’d made the trip before. It was beautiful country and part of the time you could see the ocean. He wished he were sharing the excursion with her.

He’d lived alone for six years, but today he felt extra lonely. He couldn’t stop memories of Kate from bombarding him—medical runs with her, the chats and arguments they’d had, her laughter. And how she’d waited for him when he’d gone after that bear, even after he’d broken off their relationship. She’d been strong and steady when she’d been sick and had to help him land the plane. Her decision to stop flying had shocked him.

He scraped off stubble from his neck, then cleaned the blade on the edge of the bowl. For so long he’d hoped she’d give up flying, but now that she’d walked away from it, he could see what a mistake it was. Being a pilot was part of who she was. Quitting was like cutting off an arm or a leg. What would happen to her if she didn’t fly, if she wasn’t living in Alaska? She belonged here.

He rinsed off the blade, wiped the excess soap from his face, then splashed it with water. He bathed with a washcloth, then dressed. He needed a fire, but there wasn’t time. It was already late and Sassa was probably waiting dinner for him. He’d build a fire when he got back.

Patrick opened the door to Paul’s knock. “Howdy, neighbor. Good to have you back. How’d everything go in Anchorage?”

Paul knew Patrick cared about him, but he also wanted to know all the news and whether or not Kate actually got on the train. “Fine. I picked up a few supplies and said good-bye to Kate.”

Patrick closed the door and moved toward the front room. “It’s a shame she took off like that. Wonder if she’ll be happy.”

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Sassa said. She smiled at Paul, her round cheeks dimpling. “Nice to have you here.”

“Thanks for inviting me. If not for you, I’d be eating cheese and bread tonight.”

Patrick lowered himself into his favorite chair. “How’d Kate seem to you?”

Paul shrugged. “Resigned, I guess.”

“How do you mean?”

“She’s decided to go, but she’s not happy. I could see that.”

“’Course she’s not happy. She’s leaving her home.”

“I don’t think she’s coming back. I hate to think of her spending her life doing something other than what she was meant to do and then wishing she’d done something else.” Paul moved to the front window and gazed out at the creek. “I know how that feels.”

His mind wandered back to the life he’d left. What would it be like to return to San Francisco with its crowded housing, the busy streets, and his work at the hospital? He’d grown used to quiet isolation and a slow pace. If he did return, could he adjust? Did he want to?

“Dinner’s ready,” Sassa said.

Paul turned just as Lily walked into the room. She flashed him a friendly smile. Her hand rested protectively on her rounded stomach.

“Hi, Lily. How you feeling?”

“Good. Except the baby’s keeping me awake. He spends half the night kicking me.”

“Just means he’s healthy and strong,” Sassa said. Like any mother with a daughter in Lily’s condition, Sassa had grieved, but she’d accepted what life had offered and now seemed to embrace the idea. She placed a pot on the table.

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Ethan asked.

“I can tell by the way she’s carrying him,” Sassa said with confidence.

The conversation over dinner was casual and fun, just what Paul needed. There were no more questions about Kate. When they were done eating, Sassa, true to form, suggested Lily and Paul go for a walk.

Paul had come to expect it, and he didn’t mind spending time with Lily. She was an interesting person, full of stories about life in the bush.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the house, Lily said, “I’m sorry about Mama, she just won’t give up.”

Paul smiled. “I don’t mind. I enjoy your company and I understand, your mother wants you settled with someone, especially now that you’ll have a baby to raise.” He hesitated, uncertain whether he ought to ask what was on his mind. He decided to leap in. “Does the father know? A child should have a father.”

Lily let out a long sigh, sat on a stump, and pressed her hands against the small of her back. “He knows.” She squared her jaw. “He doesn’t care.” She rested her hands on her stomach as if caressing her unborn child. “We’ll be just fine on our own.”

M
ists swirled about the ship as it maneuvered through the waters of Puget Sound. Kate stood on deck, huddled in a coat and peering through the fog, hoping for a glimpse of Seattle. After six long days at sea, she was anxious to get off the ship and step back into the life she’d once known.

Her parents were meeting her in Seattle, and she could barely wait for the comfort of their arms. Although she’d offered to take the train from Seattle to Yakima, saving her mom and dad a trip over the mountains, they’d insisted on being at the dock to greet her. Now, she was glad they had. She wasn’t sure she could stand to wait any longer. And she knew Angel was anxious to be free of her crate. Every day during the journey, she’d taken her out for a walk at least twice a day, but that wasn’t nearly enough.

In some ways the trip had been good for Kate. She’d had time to think and to pray. Her thoughts had bounced between wishing she’d stayed in Anchorage and believing she’d done the right thing by leaving. Mike felt close. She tried to imagine what he would say to her. Every time it was the same. He’d have told her to do what she loved—only now she didn’t know what that was. And she couldn’t help but consider that he’d done what he loved and it had killed him. She wished he was with her, helping her to be strong and making her laugh.

Chilled, she pulled her coat closer and lifted the collar around her neck. He was probably disappointed in her. She’d given up, chickened out. He never would have done that.
I’m not him. I’m sorry, Mike, but I can’t do it anymore
. Tears burned her eyes and she swiped them away. She’d shed enough of them.

Staring into the mist, she wondered what she would do now. Go back to working for her parents? It didn’t feel like enough, but it would do temporarily.

This was the busy season—apple picking and processing, cider making, and canning the last of the vegetables from the garden. Working for her parents would fill her time while she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. And they could use the help.

Kate loved this time of year in Yakima—warm days, morning frosts, the smell of ripening apples, and family and friends working together. There’d be harvest celebrations and pumpkin carving, then Thanksgiving. It was a good time to return.

Beyond the fall season lay a void. Kate didn’t know what she’d do then. She’d always counted on being a pilot. Now she didn’t know what she wanted. Perhaps, while she figured it out, she could work at the local grain store or the mercantile. And there was always the possibility of being a wife and mother. She just needed someone to love who loved her back.

Sunlight pierced the haze and slowly the fog thinned, revealing the city. It was startlingly large, unlike the towns and villages of Alaska.

Squat buildings huddled along the bay and beyond, skyscrapers towered over them on stacked hillsides. Her eyes moved east past the business district. Quiet neighborhoods nestled on the hillsides where broad-limbed trees and tall evergreens shaded the homes. White-capped mountains stood in the distance, shimmering beneath a blue sky. Her home lay in the valley beyond. Kate could hardly wait to see it.

She hurried to her stateroom, grabbed her overnight bag and her suitcase, and then made her way back to the deck. She’d be home soon.

Guided by tugboats, the ship approached a pier where a throng of people waited. Kate searched the crowd, hoping to see her parents. She felt a moment of panic when she couldn’t find them. Maybe they hadn’t made it.

“Katie,” she heard someone shout.

She looked for the source of the voice. And then she spotted her father, wearing a broad smile and waving at her. Kate waved back, picked up her suitcase, and moved toward the walkway. She watched men throw out huge braided ropes and then tie off the ship. While she waited, her suitcase seemed to grow heavier. She tapped her foot. It was taking forever.

Finally passengers were allowed to disembark. Kate wanted to hurry, to push past the throng, but she forced herself to move with the crowd. She’d barely set her feet on the dock when her father captured her in his arms.

Kate dropped her bags and hugged him. “Oh, Daddy! It’s so good to see you.” A flood of tears took Kate by surprise.

“Katie,” he said, smoothing her hair, seeming to know instinctively that she needed more than just a hug.

She hung on to him, all the fear and sorrow surfacing. Kate remained in her father’s embrace until she caught sight of her mother standing patiently at his side.

“Mom.”

Her mother pulled Kate into her arms. “How good to have you home.” She held Kate close and swayed back and forth as if she were soothing a small child.

Reluctantly, Kate stepped back. “I’m glad to be here.” Even as she said it, Kate knew that at this moment she was thankful for them and for a home, but she was unnerved by the feeling of instability that hovered over her. She really didn’t know what she was going to do with her life. She’d always known, and now it felt like she’d been set adrift on an ocean of uncertainty.

“You only have the two bags?” her father asked.

“That’s it,” Kate said, “plus this basket from Helen. She had it packed with food. I managed to eat everything she sent.”

“Well, you could do with a little weight,” her mother said. “I declare you’re skin and bones.”

“I’m fine, really.”

Bill took the bag. “I thought you brought your dog?”

“I did, but we have to wait until the cargo is unloaded and then check her through into the state.”

While Bill put her bags in the trunk of his Chrysler sedan, Joan tucked an arm into her daughter’s. “How was the trip? Did you have good weather? Are you tired?”

Kate smiled. “The trip was fine. So was the weather. And no, I’m not tired.”

The three of them headed toward the shipping office.

“We can stay over at a hotel if you like,” Joan said.

“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to get home. And I can’t wait to introduce Angel to the farm. She’ll love it. Do you mind making the trip over the mountains today, Dad?”

“Not a bit. We got in yesterday. And you know how things are this time of year—even a couple of days away means there will be catching up to do.”

“Now you have me to help.”

Kate spotted Angel and her crate. The dog whined and wagged her tail. After signing a release form, Kate opened the crate and caught the dog in her arms. “We’re almost home, girl. Not far now.” She hooked on a leash while her parents both greeted the dog.

“It’ll be nice to have her around the place. Just hope the weather’s not too hot for her,” Kate’s mother said, giving the dog a pat.

“We’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t get overheated,” Kate said and headed toward the car.

Bill opened the back door for Kate and Angel, then hurried around and opened the front for Joan. He climbed in behind the wheel and looked over his shoulder. “So Katie, you ready to go home?”

“Yes. I can’t wait.” And she meant it. The sooner she got there, the sooner she’d find her new life. She draped an arm over Angel and eased back into the seat, suddenly weary.

Her father merged into a line of traffic exiting the terminal and made his way onto First Avenue. Seattle seemed huge to Kate. It was so much larger than Anchorage, and louder.

Making their way out of Seattle meant climbing one hill after another. Bill steered through heavy traffic. Buildings rose skyward on both sides of the street. Sidewalks were congested with pedestrians. Kate was glad they weren’t staying in the city. It was noisy and smelled of exhaust. When they reached the outskirts of town and headed toward the mountains, the tension eased out of Kate.

“The pass was clear when we came over yesterday,” Joan said, “but we had some rain last night, so there might be snow today.”

Kate gazed out the window at huge evergreens pressed up alongside the paved roadway. “I’d forgotten how big the trees are here. Most areas I fly . . . used to fly . . .” A twinge of sadness shot through Kate. “Most areas up north have small trees and fewer evergreens. And there are vast areas that don’t have any trees at all.”

“Why is that?” Joan asked.

“I’m not sure. My guess would be the weather and the permafrost.”

“I remember when we were up there it was a stunning and daunting place.” Joan looked back at Kate. “We can be thankful we don’t have to worry about frigid temperatures here. The winters are cold, but nothing like what you’ve had to endure.”

“I didn’t
endure
it,” Kate said, unable to conceal the irritation she felt. She wasn’t sure why she was annoyed. She’d decided to leave the territory. “It’s just that you get used to it.”

Joan nodded and turned her attention to the road ahead of them.

Kate slid her legs out in front of her and leaned against Angel, who had made herself comfortable on the seat. She stroked the dog and thought about home. Had it changed since she left? How would it feel to live in the same old farmhouse where she’d grown up? Maybe she could find a place of her own after she got settled and found a job. The car dropped into a pothole, knocking Kate’s head against the door handle. She plumped up a pillow her mother had brought, rested her head against it, and dozed off.

Kate awakened as they descended the mountains. Excitement built and memories bombarded her. This is what she’d always known. It was so different from Alaska. The pine trees were heavy bodied and red pine needles carpeted the bare ground beneath them. Leaving the mountains behind, they drove through hillsides that rolled gently downward. Yellow grasses looked soft and seemed to shimmer in the fall sunlight.

As the road wound through the hills, the broad green Yakima Valley sprawled out toward the prairie. Kate had forgotten how beautiful it was.

When they turned onto Canyon Drive, her nerves popped. They drove up the hill and Kate gazed at rows upon rows of apple trees. When they turned into their driveway, she could barely believe she was home. Her father waved at a man carrying a ladder. The man gave him a wave back.

When Bill stopped in front of the two-story farmhouse, Kate didn’t get out immediately. She stared at the home she’d known all her life. A large covered porch sprawled across the front. It looked like it always had—hanging baskets overflowing with flowers, woven furniture, and a book on a table where her mother always read. Everything was the same, but she was different.

Had the time she’d spent in Alaska meant anything? Had she made a difference? She thought back to the people and remembered the injured and sick that she and Paul had helped. She recalled the woman who’d had a baby on one of her flights. Mike had helped then. She hadn’t been a failure, so why did she feel like one?

Her father opened the door for her and she stepped out. Kate looked around. The yard was green and clipped short. Her mother made sure to keep it watered. The dahlias were still vivid, but many of the flowers were done for the summer. She walked to a rosebush with a display of pale pink flowers and bent to smell one. The fragrance was sweet, but faint.

“These are beautiful, Mom. You should enter them in the fair.”

Joan smiled and tipped her head to the side. “Maybe I will one of these days. Perhaps you can help me with them next year.”

Next year. The words reverberated through Kate. This is where she would be next year and the year after. It’s where she’d spent most of her life. Her Alaskan adventure was over. Now what did she have to look forward to?

“Come on in. I’m sure you must be hungry. I’ve got some leftover pot roast I can warm up.”

“That sounds good.”

Kate let Angel out and the dog busily investigated her new home. When Kate went indoors, Angel followed, seeming comfortable and happy. “You’re going to be just fine here, girl,” Kate said, stroking the dog.

While her mother rustled around in the kitchen, Kate walked up the stairs to her room, Angel at her side. Her father had already brought up her bags and left them on the bed. She sat on the mattress and rested a hand on its walnut headboard. The same white dimity bedspread she’d had for years still dressed the bed. The room was spacious and had been painted a frosty green. She remembered how she and her mother had tusseled over the color. Her mother had wanted a soft yellow. Kate had refused. She smiled at the memory, still liking the green.

Green cotton curtains with yellow daisies had been freshly washed and now fluttered in the breeze at the window. Kate looked down on the front yard. She liked being able to see who was coming and going. She turned and gazed at the room. It felt familiar, but it didn’t feel like home. She missed her little room in Anchorage.

With a sigh, she set her overnight case on her bureau and then undid the straps on her suitcase. She took out her clothes and placed them in the chest of drawers. She hung her leather flight jacket in the closet and pushed it to the back. She didn’t want to look at it. With her clothes put away, she stashed the suitcase on a shelf in the closet. She put her personal things in the upstairs bathroom and then stashed the overnight bag in the closet beside her suitcase.

Angel lay on the floor beside the bed, her head resting on her feet. She seemed content.

Kate sat on the edge of the bed and opened the drawer to her nightstand. A book on aviation history sat inside. She’d forgotten it was there. As she flipped through the pages, an ache tightened in her chest. It was over—the adventure she’d always dreamed of was behind her. She set the book back in the bureau and closed the drawer.

A knock sounded at her door. “Come in.”

Her mother opened the door. “I left things just as they were.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “I never thought you’d come home.” She sniffed and smiled. “And as much as I love you and want you here, I’m truly sorry. I know this isn’t where you intended to be. And Mike . . . I know you cared deeply for him. Everything must seem awful to you right now, but it will get better. I promise you that.”

It took all Kate had not to break down. She pushed off the bed and moved to her mother. “I’m fine. I like it here.” She swallowed hard. “And Mike died doing what he loved.” She squeezed her mother’s hands. “Everything will work out just as it should.”