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

Although she was uncertain it was a good idea to have dinner at Mike’s place, Kate pulled her Plymouth up in front of his house. She pushed in the clutch and dropped the gear into park. Was she getting into something she’d regret? He seemed like a lot of fun, and she wanted to get to know him, but would he assume too much?

The door opened and he stepped onto a small front porch and waved. Kate turned off the engine. It was too late to change her mind. She was here.

Mike hurried down the steps and out to the car, managing to open the door before Kate did. Wearing his usual friendly smile, he said, “Just on time.”

His blue eyes danced with pleasure, and Kate couldn’t resist his natural charm. She instantly warmed to him.

“Didn’t want the ‘best’ spaghetti in all the territory to go to waste,” she said with a grin.

“You jest, but you’ll see. It’s my mother’s recipe.” Mike placed a hand on Kate’s back as the two walked up a gravel pathway leading to the house. The outside of the home screamed for attention—it needed paint, and weeds had sprouted in the flower beds. There was no sign of spring flowers.

“Come on in.” Mike opened the door and held it for Kate and followed her inside.

Although it was sparsely furnished, the house was tidy with a large floral area rug in the living room. “This is nice,” she said, noticing fringed curtains on the windows. She breathed in deeply. “And something smells good.”

Mike grinned. “That would be my spaghetti. I also baked a fresh loaf of sourdough bread and an apple pie.”

“Where did you get the apples?”

“I held some over through the winter, just for special occasions.” Kate felt herself relax. This would be fun.

“How’s that tooth of yours?”

“Better.” Kate put a hand to her cheek, which was still tender to the touch. “I had it pulled in Kotzebue.”

“They have a dentist in Kotzebue?”

“No . . . not exactly.” Kate chuckled. “Alex Toognak, the local sage, pulled it. He did a good job, but it hurt like crazy.”

“Glad it was you and not me.” He grinned. “Here, let me hang up your coat.”

Kate slipped off her jacket and handed it to Mike. He hung it in a small closet.

“It’s such a nice day, I almost decided not to wear a coat. It’s colder than it looks, though.”

“April’s a little early for shirtsleeves—have to wait ’til June.” He walked into the kitchen. “Hope you’re hungry. I made plenty.”

Kate and Mike sat across from each other at a small table in the kitchen. He’d managed to find a set of plates, but the glasses and flatware didn’t match. Mike dished spaghetti straight from the pot onto Kate’s plate and handed it to her.

“Looks good,” she said, setting the dish on the table in front of her. She took a slice of bread and buttered it.

“Not fancy, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I like things simple.” Kate stuck her fork into the spaghetti and twirled it until she had more than a mouthful. She’d never mastered the art of getting the proper amount of spaghetti on a utensil. She managed to get it into her mouth without slopping too much sauce on her chin. Using a napkin, she dabbed up the spill and chewed. The mingling flavors of spices, meat, and tomato sauce delighted her palate. “This is delicious. If I ever have a real kitchen, I’ll have to get the recipe.”

“I thought you hated cooking.”

“No. I just said I’m not very good at it. When I have my own place, I might give it a try.” She took a bite of bread. “Didn’t know you were such a good cook.”

Mike leaned his arms on the table, fork in hand. “Truth is, this is the only thing I know how to make.” He grinned. “Good thing you like spaghetti.”

Kate laughed.

Mike and Kate talked flying mostly, but they also discussed life in Alaska versus that in the states. The conversation turned to their families, and Mike told her a little about growing up in Chicago. Although he seemed somewhat reluctant to talk about his family, Kate did learn that his father had been a drunk, and his mother raised him, his brothers, and a sister on her own. Kate figured it must be Mike’s determination to be nothing like his father that made him so principled and loyal. Her admiration grew for her flying comrade.

After dinner, Mike served coffee and apple pie. He made good coffee, but the pie left something to be desired. The crust was tough and overcooked, but the apples tasted good.

They sat in the living room—Mike on a well-worn sofa and Kate in an easy chair. Mike looked around the room. “Figure one day I’ll fix things up.”

“I like it. I think too much stuff makes a room feel cluttered.”

“Maybe, but it could use a woman’s touch.”

Kate wondered if he was hinting about a relationship between them, but she chose to ignore the implication.

“The outside needs a lot of work, but I’ve already bought paint, so when I get a few days off this summer I’ll spruce it up.” He leaned forward, placing his arms on his thighs. “It’s not much, but I own it, free and clear. And the lot’s big enough so I can add on . . . one day . . . when I have a family.” His expression warmed.

An alarm went off inside Kate. She hoped he wasn’t leading up to something.

“I was wondering how you’d feel about us dating . . . more seriously.” He hurried on before Kate could answer. “We’ve got a lot in common, you and I. And with both of us being pilots, we understand the job with its long hours and everything else . . . and . . . well . . . I’m crazy about you. Never knew anyone like you, Kate.”

She didn’t know how to respond. “I-I . . . like you . . . too,” she stammered. “But I’m not sure about—”

“I don’t mean we have to get married or anything, but maybe just think about a future.”

Kate studied Mike. She did like him . . . a lot. And he was good looking. But she wasn’t sure she could ever love him. “It’s kind of soon. You know I was supposed to marry Richard last summer . . . and I’m new here and still learning so much. I don’t know if I ought to get serious about anyone.” Kate knew she was rambling. “But maybe. We’ll see. You’re a fine man and I do think a lot of you.” She clamped her lips together. She’d already said too much.

“Okay. That’s good enough for me.” He smiled. “There’s a new movie at the cinema. Maybe we can go later this week?”

“Sure.” Kate stood. She needed some space and time to think. “I’d better be going. I’ve got mail to deliver tomorrow.”

Mike walked her to the car. The two stood for a moment in the growing dusk. Kate couldn’t get the door open because Mike had his hand on the handle. He leaned close and pressed his lips to hers, gently, demanding nothing. It was a sweet kiss, and despite her reluctance, Kate liked it. She opened her eyes and found Mike staring at her.

“You’re really something, Kate,” he said softly.

“You too,” she managed to say. “But, I have to go.”

“Right.” Mike opened the door and held it for her while she slid onto the seat. “See you,” he said, then closed the door and stepped back.

Her heart pounding, Kate pushed in the clutch, turned the key, and put the car into drive. With a small wave, she moved off, leaving Mike standing in the road, staring after her. Me and Mike? She pressed her fingers to her lips. She’d liked the kiss. Maybe. She smiled.

Kate dropped down over the Susitna, and set up to land on the sandbar at Bear Creek. Paul and Patrick were already waiting. With breakup over, she knew using pontoons and landing on the creek made more sense, but she wasn’t ready for the switch. The thought made her stomach roil. She hadn’t attempted a water landing since the accident on Rimrock Lake. Deciding not to think about it, she made a wide turn over the trees and headed upriver for her approach.

As usual, Angel was in the front seat. She stood panting and gazing out the window. The dog was well acquainted with the mail run and knew this stop included Paul, who almost always took time to play with her. Kate brought the plane down with one little hop and then cruised to a stop.

Angel leaped off the seat and hurried to the door. When Kate opened it, the dog bounded out and headed straight for Paul.

Wearing a broad smile, Paul knelt and captured the large pup in his arms. He gathered the bundle of black and silver fur against his chest and tried to avoid her wet kisses. “She’s looking good. Getting big.” He laughed. “A little wet, though.”

“I almost think she likes you better than me.” Kate breathed deeply. The cool air was scented with new vegetation and the fragrance of spruce. “It smells like spring. I love it.”

Before she finished speaking, mosquitoes descended. Kate waved them off, but the pests persisted. Slapping one, she said, “These are the only thing I don’t like about this time of year. Are they always this bad?”

“Worse.” Patrick’s mouth lifted in a sideways grin. “Wait another month. You won’t want to get out of your plane.”

With another swipe at the buzzing mosquitoes, she said, “Only mail I have today is for Klaus.”

Angel tore across the sandbar, chasing after a seagull.

“I’ll take it to him,” Patrick said. “He was going to come today, but wanted to plant one more row of carrots.”

Kate handed him the letter. “Tell him hello for me. Is he doing all right?”

Patrick glanced at the envelope. “Since the weather warmed up, he’s doing pretty good.”

Patrick slapped a mosquito that had landed on his neck. “If someone came up with a repellent for these little beasts, he’d be rich.” He scratched a large welt on his arm.

“Heard the natives use cow parsnip,” Paul said. “They rub the flowers on their skin. You ever try it?”

“Yeah. Only trouble is, they don’t bloom for another couple of months.” He scratched his arm.

“I’ll pick up a tonic for the itching when I’m in Anchorage.” “When are you going in?” Kate asked.

“Figured I’d get my boat set up today and head out in the morning.” He glanced at the cloudless sky. “As long as the weather holds.”

“I could give you a ride.”

Paul considered the invitation. “Sounds good, but how do I get back?”

“If you don’t mind staying a few days, I’ll bring you out next week. Or one of the other pilots might have a trip this way.”

Paul lifted his hat and resettled it on his head. “Guess that would work.” He turned to Patrick “You think one of your boys could look after the dogs?”

“Douglas’ll do it. He’s still hoping you’ll let that one pup go.”

Paul scrubbed his cheek. “You tell him if he takes care of the dogs and keeps the weeds out of the garden, the pup is his.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? He’ll be a fine sled dog.”

“I don’t need four dogs, just hated to part with him. He’ll be happier with Douglas anyway.”

“It’ll make his day.”

From the safety of the cockpit, Kate watched Patrick row his dory across the creek toward her. Paul sat up front in the boat. She wondered if she’d get answers to some of the questions she had about him.

When the boat reached the sandbar, Paul leaped out, then gave Patrick a push off to free the boat from the rocks.

Patrick waved and headed for home.

With a pack slung over one shoulder, Paul trudged toward the plane and Kate moved to the door. When she opened it, Angel bounded out again, ready to romp. She grabbed a stick and trotted toward Paul. When he tried to grab the branch, she darted out of reach.

“I’m not playing that game.” With a glance at Kate, he straightened and folded his arms over his chest.

“She loves to play keepaway,” Kate said.

“She’ll bring it to me. Just wait.” Paul acted as if he didn’t care about the dog or her prize. A few moments later, Angel returned and dropped her stick in front of him.

He picked it up and sent it flying. Angel chased after it. This time she brought it back.

Kate warmed at the sight of the two playing and would have loved to stay awhile, but work waited. “We’ve got to go,” she said reluctantly. “I’ve got a couple more stops to make. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. It’ll be a nice break, something new.” Paul moved to the side of the plane. “I’ll crank it.”

Kate started the engine, and Angel settled in her usual spot beside her. “Not today, girl.” Kate gently tugged the dog’s collar, dragging her off the seat. Angel found a place in back and laid down to gnaw on her stick. Kate knew there’d be a mess to clean up, but she didn’t have the heart to take the dog’s prize.

With the engine roaring, Paul dropped into the seat beside Kate. He lifted a basket off the floor in front of him, which held Kate’s Bible. “Didn’t know you were religious,” he said, picking up the book.

“Guess there’s always something new to learn about a person.” She looked straight at him. “How about you?”

A flicker of discomfort touched Paul’s eyes. “You mean, am I religious?” He returned the Bible to the basket and set it behind his seat. “I’m not.”

Paul’s tone made it clear he didn’t want to discuss religion, so Kate said simply, “The Bible belonged to my grandmother. She was one of the finest people I ever knew.”

“Was?”

“She died a few years ago.” An image of her grandmother’s small hands with their translucent skin came to mind. “I miss her.”

Paul leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Do you have family still living in California?”

“Some.” He didn’t look at her.

Kate figured she’d probed enough for now and concentrated on taking off. Once in the air, she didn’t know what to talk about.

Paul was the first to speak. “So, how’ve things been going for you?”

“Good. I’ve been flying a lot—thanks to the longer days. Had a little trouble in Kotzebue—had a tooth pulled by a medicine man, for one thing.”

Paul chuckled. “Really? Sounds interesting.”

“It was, believe me. But the worst thing was what happened after that.”

Paul studied her with interest.

“I had a passenger die right in my plane.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know for sure. By the time we got in the air, he was in bad shape—pain in his chest and sweating profusely.”

“Trouble breathing?”

“Yeah. He was really struggling.” Remembering the ordeal brought back the panic and sense of helplessness. “I was trying to get him to Nome. They have a doctor there.”

“Sounds like he had a heart attack.”

“It was horrible. A nephew and the man’s wife stayed with him during the flight. They tried to help, but no one knew what to do. If there’d been a doctor, the man might have lived.”

“Not likely,” Paul said, tight-lipped.

Kate’s mind recaptured the emotions and dreadful events of the flight. She gazed down at the river, then glanced at Paul. “There’ll be more emergencies . . . like that one. I’m just a pilot, but people expect me to know how to handle every kind of crisis.”

“That’s pretty unreasonable.”

“Yeah. I guess. But I wish I knew more. And if there’d been a doctor in Kotzebue—”

“You can’t worry about that. The people choose to live there.” He paused, then added, “And dying is part of living. None of us will escape it.” His tone was somber. He gazed out the window. Neither spoke.

After Kate’s last stop and they were on their way again, Paul asked, “Do you have a favorite place in Anchorage to eat?”

“There’s a café not far from where I live. The food’s okay. They have good pie.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

The invitation took Kate by surprise. Paul didn’t seem like the social type. He’d barely spoken the entire flight. “Sure. I guess that would be okay.” She felt a twinge of guilt. What would Mike think?

“I wouldn’t want to twist your arm,” Paul said with a grin.

“No. I’d like to go.” Again guilt about Mike prodded her. We’re not serious, she told herself and glanced at Paul. And besides, Paul’s intriguing. I’d like to know more about him.

Kate dropped Paul at his hotel, then hurried home to clean up and change. She couldn’t decide what to wear and wondered why it mattered. Finally, she chose a simple gingham dress. She brushed her short mahogany hair and fluffed out the flatness from wearing her flying helmet. After applying fresh lipstick, she dabbed on Evening in Paris perfume. She was ready.

Kate pulled on a sweater and fastened the top button. Tossing a compact and lipstick into a handbag, she headed toward the front of the store.

Helen worked at the cash register. “You look nice. Where you going?”

“Just out to dinner.” Kate didn’t want to tell her with whom.

“With Mike?”

“No.”

“Oh. I thought you two were—”

“We’re dating. That doesn’t mean I can’t go out with a friend.”

“Of course. Who are you going with?”

“Paul. The man from out at Bear Creek.” To her surprise, her heart did a little flip at the thought of him.

“Oh yes. He’s a nice young fellow.”

“I flew him into town today, so in return he’s taking me to dinner.” That wasn’t exactly what happened, but Kate figured that’s probably the reason he’d asked her.

“That’s wonderful.” Helen wore her “I’m delighted” face.

“Don’t make too much of it. We barely know each other.”

“I’m just happy to see you having some fun. You work too hard.” She reached out and caressed Kate’s cheek. “You look very pretty. Have a good time.”

Kate hurried out of the store. The May air was cold and she wondered if she ought to go back for a coat. Deciding against it, she got into her car and pulled onto the street.

When she stopped at Paul’s hotel, he already stood out front. She’d never seen him in anything other than work-clothes. Wearing slacks and a white shirt made him look even more handsome. Kate’s heart did that little flip again.

Paul stepped away from the hotel, opened the car door, and slid onto the front seat. “Nice car. Used to own a Plymouth— it was a good ride.”

“Mike found it for me.” She tried to ignore his dark good looks and the tantalizing smell of his cologne.

He glanced at her. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

“You smell good too.” He smiled gently, almost regretfully. “My guess is you’re wearing Evening in Paris?”

“That’s right. How’d you know?”

He looked out the car window. “I knew someone once who used to wear it.”

Kate wondered who, but decided against asking.

The café was closed, so they headed downtown. The first restaurant they came to, Paul said, “I’ve been here before. It’s nice and they have good food.”

Kate pulled to the side of the street and got out before Paul could come around and open the door. She didn’t want him thinking this was a “real” date. They stepped into the restaurant and Kate realized immediately it was a place for upper-crust types.

“This is probably very expensive,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get the tab.”

Who is this man? He dresses and lives like a sourdough, but talks like a gentleman and money is no problem?

Paul walked up to the maitre d’ and gave him his name. A few moments later, a waiter escorted them to a table set with white linen, crystal goblets, and silver flatware. Kate felt out of place and underdressed.

Paul ordered a bottle of wine. He was very unlike the man she knew who lived in a cabin in the bush. The question about why he was out there burned inside her. Placing her hands in her lap, she tried to come up with a way to ask.

He leaned back in his chair. “How do you feel about Alaska now that you’ve been through a winter?”

“I love it, mostly. During the winter, the long nights are hard to tolerate. It’s tough to find enough flying hours.” She picked up her spoon and then set it back down. “It’s beautiful, though. I feel like I belong here.”

A native couple stepped in and approached the maitre d’. The man said something, but was ignored. He tried again. Finally, the maitre d’ turned a condescending look on the man and said, “No Indians allowed. You’ll have to leave.”

Kate straightened her spine. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Paul looked over his shoulder toward the lobby.

“That man told those people they aren’t allowed because they’re native.”

“My money is as good as anyone else’s,” the small man told the maitre d’.

“We don’t want your money.”

By this time, everyone in the restaurant watched the exchange.

Kate felt her ire boil. “Can you believe that?”

She stood, and before she realized what she was doing, she’d crossed the room and stepped between the native couple and the maitre d’. “Did I hear correctly? You’re refusing to serve these people because they’re natives?”

“That’s right. No Indians. It’s posted.”

Kate hadn’t seen a sign. She felt Paul’s presence beside her and felt stronger. “That’s un-American.”

“Alaska’s not a state, miss. And this is none of your concern.”

“It certainly is. These people have every right to eat in this restaurant. In fact, they have more right than you or me. The Indians lived here long before the rest of us.”

The maitre d’ looked down at her and sniffed. “No Indians is our policy.” His voice was tight and controlled. “They’re unruly, especially when they’re drinking.”

She glanced at the couple. “They look sober to me.”

He compressed his lips, then sputtered, “I must ask you to leave the premises.”

Defiance blazing, Kate folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving.”

“I’ll call the sheriff. You’re being a public nuisance.”

Kate wondered if he’d really call the sheriff. And was she up for that kind of trouble? “Fine. I didn’t want to eat here anyway. In fact, I wouldn’t eat here if you paid me to.” She spun on her heels, grabbed her handbag from their table, turned, and walked out. Paul had to hurry to keep up.

The native couple followed Kate and Paul out the door. When the man approached Kate, his expression was not one of gratitude. “I do not need you to fight for me.”

Flabbergasted, Kate didn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

The woman smiled an apology, then hurried to catch her husband who was already headed up the street. The couple walked away, shoulders back, spines straight.

Paul wore a smirk.

“What’s so funny?”

“You.” He leaned against the building. “Remind me to never get you mad at me.”

“Sorry if I embarrassed you. I was so angry.” She turned and looked at the restaurant. “I didn’t even know I felt that way. It just came out. When I think about the Turchiks and Patrick and Sassa . . .”

“I know.” Paul took her arm and steered her toward the car. “Where do you want to go now? All this excitement has made me hungry.”

Kate elbowed him. “It’s not funny,” she said, but she couldn’t keep from smiling.

“No, but it is exciting to watch a redheaded female with blazing hazel eyes go after the establishment.” He grinned.

Kate felt a flush of pleasure. Unable to conceal her smile, she asked, “How about the store? There’s a table and chairs and I’m pretty good at making sandwiches.”

“Sounds perfect.”