“Are you going to lay on your butt all day? Get up, we’ve got things to do.”
T
HE FIRST WEEK
flew by. The second week ended and Kelly looked back with amazement at what she and Mike had accomplished. First, and most important, they had found Clyde and Bonnie Fisher, a middle-aged couple from Ardmore, Oklahoma. The Fishers had come to Alaska for better pay and found making a living just wasn’t all that easy. But they loved the country and wanted to stay. Bonnie cooked fabulous, home-style meals, according to Clyde, and Clyde was about as handy as the pocket on a shirt, according to Bonnie. They both proved to be right.
“Think of the ads I can run in the papers! ‘Come to Mountain View Lodge and meet Bonnie and Clyde.’” From the very first Kelly felt as if she had known them forever.
“That’s the only reason I married that ugly ol’ boy,” Bonnie said with spirit, her twinkling eyes seeking out Clyde. “I looked all over the country for a man named Clyde. I swore I was goin’ to get me one. We was goin’ to be Bonnie and Clyde. Well, this ugly ol’ cowboy was the only thing I could find, so I took ’im.”
“And I let ’er catch me ’cause she’s fat and soft and keeps me warm on cold nights.”
They were a perfectly matched couple and Kelly loved the good-natured banter that passed between them. They would live in the lodge in the room behind the kitchen, and be more or less responsible for it. Salary didn’t matter too much, as long as they had a place to live and food to eat.
The first snow began falling one night and by morning it was a foot deep. Kelly looked out the window at the strange, haunting beauty of a monochromatic landscape, set against the deep blue of the winter sky. She put the copper teakettle on the cookstove and went back to the window to watch Charlie dig his nose deep in the snow and come up with his battered frisbee. He came to the window and stood looking at her, tail wagging. Kelly couldn’t resist his silent plea.
The instant she opened the door he was there, frisky and playful. Shivering in the cold, she took the frisbee and sailed it far out into the air. Charlie bounded after it, leaped, and caught it in his mouth. He stood looking at the closed door, then with a toss of his head, he threw his toy up in the air, then pounced on it when it landed.
Kelly continued to play with Charlie on her way to the lodge. “You’re just an overgrown pup, Charlie!” Kelly had put on her old red down-filled jacket and her yellow wool toboggan cap. Her makeup-free face was sparklingly alive. “I’ve more important things to do than play. One of these days you’re going to work, too. I’m going to hitch you up to my old sled. But not today . . . so have fun while you can.”
Kelly left her boots on the mat inside the door of the lodge and let her gaze wander around the cozy room. A fire was roaring in the massive stone fireplace that held an eight-foot log. The room was not large, but uncurtained, double-paned windows gave it an appearance of spaciousness. The “family room,” as they called it, shone with new pride. Even the potbellied stove at the far end of the room had a new coat of stove blacking to cover the few rust spots the idle years had given it. In this cold climate heating was a main concern and each of the three private bedrooms, as well as the dormitory room that held eight bunk beds, had wood-burning stoves. Guests would eat their meals at the long trestle tables set up in the cozy lodge kitchen. In the bush they didn’t expect all the modern conveniences.
Comfortable couches against the walls sported bright new slipcovers that matched the indoor-outdoor carpeting put down for extra warmth, and soft bearskin rugs added a native touch. Several beautiful fur pelts were stretched and nailed to the walls, as were Kelly’s father’s collection of primitive Alaskan tools. Sets of fur-lined chairs stood adjacent to the windows so guests could enjoy the view of Mount McKinley on clear days.
Kelly was excited to see that everything was ready to receive the guests who would be arriving the next day. Two couples were coming up on the train from Anchorage and Clyde would meet them in the four-wheel drive carry-all. Mike was on emergency-call for the utility company and had to remain near the Citizen’s Band radio.
Marty was coming home to stay at the end of the week. She had made one quick trip to the resort before resigning from her job in Fairbanks and had brought her fiancé with her. Kelly had decided she liked him even if Mike didn’t. She suspected Mike secretly thought no man was good enough for his twin.
Marty had introduced her fiancé as Trampel P. Thornburg, and Kelly had thought, good grief why would anyone name a child Trampel? But Marty called him Tram, which wasn’t so bad. He was a ski instructor and a wildlife photographer. He and Marty would occupy the third cabin and together they would arrange cross-country ski tours or overnight camping expeditions for the extra hardy wildlife enthusiasts. Many tourists loved winter safaris, especially those that offered excellent opportunities to observe caribou, moose, and wolf.
“Are you goin’ to stand there admirin’ or are you comin’ to eat these flapjacks?” Bonnie called from the kitchen door.
“Flapjacks, again? I’ll be so fat I won’t be able to reach the table!”
“Well, land sakes! You’re so skinny a good Oklahoma norther would blow you clear down to Texas. Get yourself on in here, now. You need somethin’ that’ll stick to your backbone with all the work you’ve been doin’.”
Bonnie’s square body was bundled up in a bright blue jogging suit complete with turtleneck sweater topped with a bibbed apron. She waddled around in fur-lined moccasins.
“Bonnie! What are you going to wear when it really gets cold?” Kelly’s eyes had a vivid sparkle. “All you need is earmuffs and you’ll be ready to trek to the top of the mountain!”
“If there’s anything this Oklahoma girl hates more than Texas football, it’s cold! I’m here to tell you I’m not pokin’ my head out of this here lodge till spring!”
“You’re priceless! Where’s Clyde?”
“He’s out on the end of that chain saw again. Give that man anything with a motor and movin’ parts and he’s as happy as if he had good sense.”
In the late afternoon Kelly stuck her head out the door of her own cabin and called to invite Mike in for coffee. Closing the door, she viewed the room proudly. She loved the cozy, neat home she had shared with her father during her growing-up years. She remembered the winter they made the braided rug that covered the floor. He had braided the wool strips and she had sewn them together with nylon fishing line. It was as bright and as durable now as when new. A pillow-lined couch with a freshly washed slipcover stood on one side of the fireplace and a rocking chair on the other. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase which also housed the stereo set she had sent down from Anchorage when she gave up her apartment, and a winter’s supply of reading material, helped to turn the cabin into a home. Although not fancy by city standards, it gave Kelly a feeling of permanence and security.
She set two mugs and a plate of Bonnie’s freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the trestle table that divided the kitchen from the rest of the room and smiled at Mike when he came in. He pulled off his boots and hung his coat on a peg.
“Sit down and ruin your appetite for supper.” Kelly lifted the graniteware coffee pot from the stove.
“It would take more than what you’re offering to do that,” Mike said, reaching for a cookie. “Now if I could find me a woman who could cook like Bonnie, I might even marry her.”
Kelly poured the coffee, then paused to listen before she returned the pot to the stove. “Do you hear a chopper?”
“Yeah, guess I do. The rangers up in the park have one, but they seldom come down this far.”
The sound of the helicopter came closer and Kelly went to the window to peer out.
“You don’t suppose our guests decided to fly in tonight instead of taking the train tomorrow?” she asked with a worried frown.
“So what? We’ll get one more night’s lodging out of them. Sit down and drink your coffee. Clyde’s already on his way out to meet the helicopter. I can hear him grinding on the starter.”
Kelly turned on another lamp and sat down across from Mike. Soon they heard the helicopter take off again and then the sound of a car returning from the clearing where it had landed.
“I should go up to the lodge and meet the guests.”
“Let Bonnie handle it,” Mike said, reaching for another cookie. “She’s already got enough stuff baked to feed an army.”
Kelly laughed. “If I don’t knock off eating so much, I’ll have to spend my vacations at a fat farm.”
“You look a sight better than when you first came home. You looked like a starved alley cat.” Mike’s strong mouth deepened into a genuine grin.
“That’s what I like about you. You say such nice things.”
The car stopped in front of the cabin. Kelly saw the lights shining on the snow through the window. Then a car door slammed shut and someone hammered on the door.
“Who was the wiseguy who said Bonnie could handle it?” she said as she got up.
She flung open the door and a man’s frame filled the doorway, his bare, snow-dusted head almost touching the top. Jonathan! He was wearing a sheepskin coat and carried a large suitcase in each hand. The chill that struck Kelly had nothing to do with the wind coming in.
Jonathan’s dark eyes took in every detail of her appearance—her worn jeans and a faded flannel shirt that revealed her white throat and the tops of her unencumbered breasts. His bitter stare made the color rise to flood her face, all except her white lips, which parted and whispered a silent “No!”
His face was harsh and powerful, the jaw jutted in angry determination, the mouth straight and very hard. Kelly looked around, as if for someplace to go. In her dazed state, she realized Mike was on his feet. She turned slowly to meet piercing brown eyes. At once her mind jerked awake.
“What are you doing here?”
Mike moved up beside her and Jonathan stood silently, dwarfing them, his broad shoulders tense. He moved into the room and dropped his suitcases. Kelly closed the door and stood with her back to it.
“I asked what you’re doing here!” Her voice echoed shrilly. She drew in her lower lip, her face stiff with brittle cynicism.
“I came to see my wife. What do you think?” His mouth twisted caustically.
Her body tensed as she tried to stop trembling. Her blue eyes flickered restlessly, not touching on her husband, whose presence seemed to fill every corner of her mind. Damn it! Here she was quaking like a timid rabbit, just as she had done in Boston.
“I don’t want you here!” Her voice had savage, raw feeling in it. “I’ll sign your papers. You can stay at the lodge tonight, but I want you out of here in the morning.”
Jonathan’s features hardened even more. He glanced at Mike, who was watching him with a taut expression.
“I’m staying and the sooner you realize it the better.” The icy eyes dared Mike to interfere.
“If Kelly doesn’t want you here,” Mike said through tight lips, “you’re going, and that’s all there is to it.”
Jonathan hit him. One moment the two men were glaring at each other and the next Mike was flying across the room and landing with a thud against the trestle table. It was over before Kelly could intervene.
She ran over to him. “Mike? Mike? Are you hurt?”
He sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “What do you think? I don’t bang my head on the table every day.”
Kelly stood up and turned on Jonathan. “What’s gotten into you? You had no reason to hit Mike,” she said furiously.
Jonathan’s hard-boned face was taut with rage. His hands clenched and unclenched. He looked as if he wanted to strangle the two of them.
“No reason? You better get him out of here or I’ll kill him.”
For a moment Kelly was lost for words. In the eight months she had lived with this man, he had never shown this kind of violence.
“You’d better go, Mike. I’ll talk to him,” she said quietly, her eyes begging him to obey.
“You’re sure?” He darted a look of pure hatred at the man standing in a pool of water that dripped from his snow-covered boots.
“Yes, I’m sure.” She reached behind Jonathan and plucked Mike’s coat from the peg. Mike shrugged into it and put his stocking feet into his boots. As if to assert his authority over the situation, Jonathan stepped over, opened the door, and slammed it shut after Mike passed through. Immediately, he turned on Kelly and the look of fury on his face made her shake with a totally new fear.
“You adulterous witch!”
In the months before she’d left him she had seen him angry, but nothing like this. During the more than a year since they had seen each other, he had changed, aged, grown more bitter. Now, anger raged between them like a forest fire, scorching everything in its path. He jerked off his coat and hung it up, his powerful body tense with suppressed emotion.
“I could kill you for what you’ve done to me,” he said when he turned to face her.
Silence stretched between them like a taut rubber band. Kelly walked on unsure legs to the cookstove and picked up the graniteware pot. Automatically she took a clean mug from the hook and poured coffee into it as well as into her own.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I’ve known every move you’ve made since a month before you left Portland.” He sat down at the table.
The smell of the coffee made Kelly feel sick but she sipped it anyway. “It’s nice to know I’ve been spied on,” she said coolly.
“It took a while, but I found you,” he said without looking at her.
“What took you so long? I’ve been here almost three weeks.”
He drew in a harsh breath and moved restlessly, his dark eyes probing hers. “I had plans to make. Company responsibilities to delegate to others.”
Kelly looked up, startled. She had no idea what to say to him. She looked down at his hands cradling his cup. They were pale and cold.
“Say something,” he ordered. “Why do you think I left my business, Boston, my family and friends? Because . . . if you can’t live in my world, I’ll live in yours!”
Kelly stared at him without understanding, her lashes flickering up and down over her blue eyes. “You’re not staying here! I don’t want you here!” she blurted out.