Touching the Clouds: A Novel (Alaskan Skies Book #1)

Huddled beneath a blanket, Kate sat with her knees bent and pulled close to her chest. She stared at a fire made from driftwood and frozen grass. Cold air sucked the heat from the flames and carried it into the darkness.

She and Doris had cleared a small area at the edge of the beach out of reach of the inlet’s extreme tide changes. She looked at Doris. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“It’s your fault that we’re alive.” Hands trembling, Doris pulled her hood closer around her face.

Kate added more wood to the fire. It flared, sending a spray of burning embers into the air. “I shouldn’t have taken the run.”

“I chose to go with you. We were both thinking about that poor man.” Doris’s tone was persuasive. “And you couldn’t control the compass.”

Kate wanted to accept the heartening words, but the armor she’d worn for so long deflected them. “You want anything more to eat or drink?”

“I’m fine. And we better save some for tomorrow. If the weather doesn’t change, we could be here awhile.”

Kate gazed into the blackness, feeling dismal at the thought of spending days trapped on this frigid beach. There were enough provisions for a few days, but beyond that . . . she’d have to get creative. She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes. Lord, please get us out of here soon.

Kate envisioned what was happening at the airfield. Sidney and the pilots were there, ready to search the first moment weather allowed. Albert and Helen would probably be there too. Someone would have notified her parents. She felt a pang of sadness at what they were going through—wondering what had become of her. If only she could tell them she was all right.

Doris bunched up a travel bag, then lay down and rested her head on it. She bundled deeper into her coat and burrowed beneath two wool blankets. She gazed at the fire for a long while, then in a small and timorous voice, she said, “I thought we were done for. It was a miracle you spotted this beach. And then your ability to get us down—well, I’m thankful for my life.”

“God was looking out for us.” Kate lay as close to the fire as she dared and pulled blankets over her. “If it’s clear in the morning, we’ll head on up to the mine and see if we can help that miner. We can call Sidney from there and let him know we’re all right.” She studied the flicker of blue, yellow, and orange flames. “Do you think he’s still alive?”

“It’s hard to know. But it sounded like he was seriously injured.”

“Yeah,” said Kate, her heart heavy. “Well, we better get some sleep.”

Paul lay on his back and stared at the ceiling and thought about Kate. She reminded him of a spring day. Her smile was warm and genuine, and her hazel eyes flashed with spirit. He imagined trailing a finger down her cheek, smoothing the smattering of freckles.

No one in their right mind was a bush pilot. Why Kate?

He rolled onto his side and finally slept, though fitfully. Each time he woke his thoughts turned to Kate. At five o’clock he was wide awake. Unable to stay in bed any longer, he got up and put on a pot of coffee.

He forced himself to do the mundane, scrambling eggs and making toast. He ate, barely tasting the food. He was wiping out a cast iron skillet when Patrick showed up. He knocked and, before Paul could answer, stepped inside.

“Morning.”

“Hi.” Paul set the fry pan in the cupboard. “I was wondering if you could contact Sidney. Maybe he knows something.”

“Sorry. No news. I already radioed him. That’s why I came by.” He patted Nita’s head and looked at the pups. “How many she have?”

“Nine—five males and four females.”

“They look good. Might want one of those males.”

“Sure,” Paul said, not thinking about pups. Where was Kate? “Just let me know which one and he’s yours.”

“I will.” Patrick headed for the door. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Paul did his best to stay busy the rest of the day. He put on a pot of beans, skinned out two marten and a fox he’d brought home late the previous day, and chopped kindling. He kept a close eye on Nita and the puppies. They all looked healthy. Nita was a little thin, but that was to be expected.

Daylight faded and still no word. Paul was antsy for the Mukluk News to begin. He fed and watered Nita, then turned on his battery-operated radio and rotated the dial. There was nothing except a buzz, but he left it on.

Paul lifted the lid off the pot and steam whooshed into the air, carrying the aroma of beans and pork. The radio crackled to life, and a man’s baritone voice said, “Good evening to all you listeners across Alaska. We have news to report. Missing pilot, Kate Evans, showed up this afternoon in Anchorage. She and her passenger, Doris Henley, were both in good condition. It seems the Alaskan women are tough and fared well after a night in the bush. Sadly, the injured miner died. His name has not been released.”

Relief erupted inside Paul. He set the lid back on the pot and moved to Nita’s bed, where he knelt and gave her a massage. “Did you hear that? Kate’s all right.”

He picked up the smallest pup in the litter, a female with just the beginnings of silver markings on her face. “You’re the one for Kate.”

Holding her against his chest, he stroked the puppy’s soft hair. She made a mewling sound and nuzzled him. Nita watched attentively and finally stood, as if to tell Paul she wanted her baby back.

“Okay. Okay. Just a minute.” He turned the puppy on its back and rubbed its round tummy.

His thoughts returned to Kate. She’d fly until it killed her. No matter how pretty she was or how much he admired her, he couldn’t allow himself to care too much. If he did, he’d be like this pup, exposing its underbelly.

And he couldn’t do that.

After her ordeal, Sidney ordered Kate to take a couple of days off. When she returned to work, she hated to admit that she was nervous. Her thoughts kept circling back to her battle with the fog. She’d done everything she knew to do and still nearly died. Being reminded how quickly things could go bad was unnerving.

Walking to her plane, she tried to act nonchalant, hoping no one sensed her nervousness. She checked out the Bellanca, double-checking the new compass, and after cranking the flywheel, started the engine. When she left the ground, her muscles felt tight, her stomach uneasy. It was a good flying day, but she was unable to reel in her apprehension.

Kate felt like she’d failed . . . again. More than that, she’d been foolish . . . again, and nearly gotten herself and Doris killed. She was more like Jack than she wanted to admit—too confident in her own skills.

Kate dragged her mind to the present. She had mail to deliver.

When she set the plane down on the sandbar at Bear Creek, Patrick and Sassa waited to greet her.

Sassa pulled her into plump arms and held onto her as if she’d never give her up. “When I heard the news, I started praying. I was so scared. I thought your plane had cracked up.” She stepped back and smiled. “But here you are.”

“The Mukluk News said you were headed to Independence Mine. The ice fog was bad. Why’d you go out?” Patrick asked.

“The people up at the camp said they had a man injured so badly he’d die if he didn’t get to a hospital. I thought I could do it, and would have too, but my compass went haywire. I ended up off course.” She glanced at her feet, then back at Patrick. “God was looking out for me. The fog opened up enough for me to land.”

Patrick gently grasped her upper arms in his large hands. Moisture in his eyes revealed his affection for Kate. “You gave us a scare, girl.”

“Well, I’m fine now.” She glanced toward Paul’s cabin. “And I’ve got mail for you.” She handed Patrick an envelope, unable to keep her eyes from wandering back to Paul’s house.

“He’s not coming,” Sassa said.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Paul.” She smiled kindly.

“Is he sick?”

“I don’t think so. He asked us to get his mail . . . from now on.”

Disappointment touched Kate. “Is something wrong?”

Sassa shrugged. “Sure. But we don’t know what exactly. He carries a big hurt inside.”

“Now, Sassa, you don’t know that.” Patrick’s voice was stern.

She lifted one eyebrow. “I do know.”

“He’s never told us.” Patrick’s tone held a warning.

“If you see him, say hello for me,” Kate said, unable to conceal her dejection. She headed for the plane.

When she took off, she glanced down at Paul’s cabin. Smoke trailed from the chimney. The sight of it made her feel lonely. She thought he was lonely too. Lord, whatever it is that torments him, please mend it.

In the weeks to follow when Kate stopped at Bear Creek, the Warrens and Klaus were the only ones to meet the plane. Kate liked the crusty old German.

One afternoon when she touched down on the Susitna, no one came to meet her. She had a letter for Paul so decided to deliver it in person. She stepped into the frigid February air and trudged across snow-covered ice, her boots crunching through a frozen crust. A path leading from a dock to Paul’s house was clearly marked. Someone had kept it packed down.

As she neared the house, a sharp pop echoed from somewhere behind the cabin, then a rending sound like splintering wood followed. She moved along the path and to the back of the cabin.

His back to Kate, Paul picked up a chunk of spruce and set it on a chopping block. Hefting a double-headed axe, he brought it down, easily splitting the wood. He chopped each half into two smaller pieces and threw them into a pile. He picked up another round and set it on the block. Kate had the uncomfortable sensation that she was spying on him so she cleared her throat, hoping to get his attention. He swung around and looked at her.

“Hi,” she said, holding up the envelope. “There’s mail for you. No one came down to meet the plane so I brought it up.” She took a step toward him. “I figured you’d want it.”

“Sure.” He closed the space between them and took the envelope. “Thanks.”

The dogs started barking as if they only now realized someone had come to visit. Nita, who was indoors, planted her big feet against the front window and woofed at Kate.

“That’s enough,” Paul said. When the dogs didn’t stop, he hollered, “Quiet.” This time they obeyed.

“They’re beautiful. Are they friendly?”

“If they know you.” Paul rested his axe against the stump. “I’ll introduce you.” He moved toward them. “The big one is Buck.”

Kate smiled. “Like the one in Call of the Wild?”

“Yeah.” Paul gave Buck a pat. “You’ve read it?”

“At least a half dozen times. It’s a wonderful story.”

“One of my favorites.” Paul reached for Buck and got hold of his lead. The dog wagged his tail and pulled on the leash, trying to reach Kate. “Hold out your hand, palm down, and let him sniff you.”

Feeling a little nervous, Kate did as he said. “He’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. What kind is he?”

“Malamute. Anyway, that’s what the guy said who sold him to me.”

Buck sniffed Kate’s hand, then pushed his nose under her palm. Kate stroked his broad head. He moved close and leaned against her.

“He likes you.” Paul moved to the black dog. “This is Jackpot. He’s a mix.”

Kate stepped up to Jackpot, who greeted her with exuberance. “He has an interesting name.”

“I won him in a poker game.”

Kate nodded. “I guess the name makes sense, then.” She patted the dog. “So, these are sled dogs?”

“Uh-huh. I have one more. She’s in the house.”

“Oh.” Kate looked at the window where she could see a dog that resembled Buck, staring out. “Can I meet her?”

“I . . . guess.”

Paul’s tone sounded as if he’d rather she not go inside, but Kate didn’t know how to graciously change her mind without embarrassing herself or Paul. He walked toward the porch and she followed.

“She had pups six weeks ago. I’ve been keeping her and the litter indoors, but the puppies are getting too rambunctious, so it’s about time for them to move outdoors.” He walked up steps cleared of snow and opened the door. Nita bounded out, giving a warning growl to Kate. “Nita! No!” The dog sat, but kept a wary eye on Kate. “This is a friend of ours,” Paul said, holding the dog by her collar. “She’s extra protective because of the pups.”

“I don’t blame her.” Kate wasn’t sure if it was safe to move. “Maybe she doesn’t want me to see them.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“She’s a good-looking dog. Is she malamute too?”

“No. Husky.”

“She looks like Buck.”

“Huskies and malamutes are similar. The malamutes are usually bigger and built broad and heavy. They’re all good sled dogs. Buck’s the strongest, but this one’s the smartest.” Holding Nita firmly, he took a step toward Kate and allowed the dog to sniff her. “She’s okay now.”

Tentatively, Kate put out her hand and stroked Nita’s head.

“You want to see the puppies?”

Warily, Kate stepped inside. Her first look at Paul’s cabin surprised her. It was neat and clean with touches that made it feel homey. She hadn’t expected that from a bachelor living in the bush.

A quilt made of squares cut from red, gold, and blue fabric was draped over the back of a small sofa and crocheted doilies protected both arms. A cabinet packed with books stood next to the sofa. An overstuffed chair rested against the wall opposite the front window, and a table with a lamp sat beside it. The room was crowded but comfortable. The kitchen had more than ample shelving, and a rustic table with four chairs divided it from the living area.

“This is nice. Did you build it yourself?”

“Yeah, with Patrick’s help.”

She moved toward the bookcase and picked out a book, Moby Dick. “So, you like to read.”

“I do. That one was a little dry for me, though. Have you read it?”

“No.” Kate put it back on the shelf.

“Out here, especially during the winter, there’s lots of time for reading.”

A door Kate guessed led to a bedroom was at the far end of the living area. She noticed a sewing machine in the front corner of the room and remembered her meeting with Paul at the store and her surprise when she discovered that he sewed. The memory made her smile.

Whimpering and yipping sounds drew her attention to a wooden crate in the corner of the kitchen. With a glance at Nita, she walked slowly toward the box. Nita was attentive, but didn’t seem hostile.

“She had nine pups in all.” Paul moved to the crate. “They’re getting fat. I’ve already got homes for most of them.”

“How did you do that?”

“Last time I went into Susitna Station I asked around. People are always looking for good dogs. I’ll be making another trip next week and plan to take the pups with me.”

Enraptured, Kate watched the plump puppies walk over one another; some growled and tussled, while others tried to climb the sides of the box. “May I hold one?”

“Sure.”

Kate studied them a moment, and then her eyes landed on the smallest of the litter. She picked it up. With its tail acting like a propeller, it wiggled and whimpered. Kate held her up in front of her to have a better look. She had a sweet, masked face. Kate’s heart warmed.

“She’s the runt, but she’s smart. And brave. She can scrap with the best of them.” He smiled. “She’d be just right for you.”

“Me?” Kate looked at the puppy. “She’s sweet, but I can’t . . . I’m gone too much.”

“Take her along with you. It’d be good to have a dog . . . for protection and company.”

The idea appealed to Kate. She pressed her cheek against the pup’s downy fur. “She’s adorable.” Kate captured it against her chest. “I wonder how the Towns would feel about me having a dog? It’s a small apartment.”

“I doubt they’d mind. In fact, they’d probably feel better, knowing she’s with you. When she’s full grown, she ought to be a good watchdog.” He paused. “I know I’d feel better.” His tone sounded almost tender.

Kate looked at him. A question had been pestering her and she needed to ask it. She took a breath. “Paul, are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would you think that?”

“You haven’t met the plane for the last six weeks.”

“You’ve been counting?” His smile teased.

Kate compressed her lips, embarrassed. She had been counting. “I . . . always keep track of my runs.” She forced her eyes to remain on his. “So, are you mad?”

“No.” He moved to the kitchen. “You want a cup of coffee?”

“I need to get back to work. I’ve got a couple more stops to make.” The puppy tried to scramble up her neck and licked her chin. “If you’re not mad, why haven’t you been down to get your mail?”

“Been busy.”

“Not that busy.”

Paul turned and faced her. “Okay. I . . . was mad, kind of. When your plane disappeared, I got scared.”

“For me?” The idea warmed Kate’s insides.

“Yeah.” He filled the coffeepot with water. “I don’t understand why you’ve got to fly in the bush. There are lots of other jobs, safer ones.”

Kate was surprised at the intensity of his tone. She didn’t know how to answer.

He turned and looked at her. “Why do you fly?”

She looked at the pup and scratched behind its ears. Paul’s stare was intense. “I have to. I don’t think I could be me without it.”

“Can’t you fly somewhere else, someplace safe?”

“Life can’t always be about staying safe.” Kate suddenly felt angry. She was tired of people telling her how to live. “Is that why you hide out here in this cabin? Are you staying safe?” The words were out and Kate wished she could take them back.

Paul’s expression turned stony. “Why I live here is none of your business.”

Kate felt her face warm from embarrassment. Her anger had gotten the better of her again. “You’re right. It isn’t.” She put the puppy back in the box. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t get so defensive about what I do.”

Silence pervaded the room. Paul set the percolator on the stove. “So, you want the puppy?”

Kate looked at the little girl. “Yes. I do.”

“Okay. I’ll get a box.”

“You mean, take her today?”

“She’s old enough.” Paul didn’t wait for an answer, but strode out of the house.

Kate picked up the pup and followed Paul to the shed.

Inside it smelled musty and damp. Kate held up the puppy. “So, what shall I call you?” She studied her. “You look like a little angel. I’ll call you Angel.”

Paul grinned. “She might not be such an angel. Huskies tend to have a mind of their own.” He picked up a box. “This ought to do.” He dumped out wood chips and then grabbed a rag and laid it inside.

A raven flew into the shed and perched on a shelf where it cawed and stared at Kate. She stared back. “What in the world?”

“That’s Jasper. Found him in one of my traps. He broke his leg and I helped patch him up. He decided to stay.”

Kate wondered what other things she didn’t know about Paul. She hadn’t met a man from the bush who gave a whit about a bird. “You have a regular menagerie here.”

“Guess I do.” He took Angel from Kate and settled her inside the box.

Kate felt a sudden tenderness for this quiet man she barely knew. “Thanks, Paul. I’ll take good care of her.”

“You will or answer to me.” He grinned.

Holding the box in front of her, Kate started down the trail, then stopped and looked back. “Now you’ll have to meet the plane once in a while . . . you’ll want to see how she’s doing.”

“Guess I will at that.”