Warming Trend (28 page)

Except for the original reasons of the heart—her accursed common sense continued to object. So Eve told it to shut up, had a small snifter of brandy, finished paying her bills and took herself to bed. Thanks to the brandy she fell asleep quickly. When she woke she tried to pretend it was any other day, but her reflection showed a woman who knew she’d had wonderful dreams.

“Tan will be here, don’t worry.” Ani slung her pack into the netting at the back of the Dawson Denali Tours cargo helicopter and pointed out where Lisa should store hers. “We’ve got ten minutes before we go on the pilot’s clock. Are you sure you don’t know where she went?”

“Not a clue. And I can’t believe I spent the night at the motel with you. I thought for sure she’d ask me out, and we’d…you know. But she said she needed to work. What kind of horse-hooey is that?”

“The horse-hooey of someone who works, and has Things To Do. Tan is really devoted to her job.”

Lisa got the pack situated where Ani indicated, and locked it into place. “Well, she’s dense. But the pilot’s cute.”

“She’s very straight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Four kids. What do you think?”

“Then she shouldn’t be wearing flannel and boots. It gives a girl the wrong idea.” Lisa’s pout didn’t hide a slight tremor in her voice.

Ani took pity on her. Lisa hadn’t been out of Florida before, and now she was going into a completely foreign environment, via helicopter—and she’d never been in one of those either. “Well, in Key West, all the girls wear the same slinky swimsuits, so gaydar is equally ineffective. I didn’t peg you, not right away at least. When you hit on me, then I thought, yes, she’s gay.”

“I’m thinking that all in all, I might forgive Kirsten her little Ani-goes-home-with-anybody joke. It’s worked out okay for me, if the next two days don’t kill me.” Lisa grinned and gestured at her bona fide, sub-zero rated snowsuit. The bright, showy green had been Lisa’s choice, whereas Ani had defaulted to serviceable white and navy blue. “The problem with this gear is that it’s harder to read people, period. Harder to read body language.”

Ani nodded. “I noticed, but so far, less clothing’s the only thing I miss about the tropical climate.”

Meg Dawson, who had been a chopper pilot for as long as Ani could remember, hollered from inside the hanger, “You just tell me when you’re all there.”

“Will do,” Ani called back. “You’re going to love the flight,” she told Lisa. “These copters are workhorses, and very stable in the air. This old Bell can take four sleds, sixteen dogs, just as many people and all the accompanying gear, without breaking a sweat. We’re just an outing in the park. The smaller craft are all out with tourists.”

She was relieved to see Tan’s Subaru turn into the gate at the far end of the private field. “Look. You can breathe now.”

She went to greet Tan as she parked. She was most of the way to the car when realized there was someone in the passenger seat. Someone with yellow hair.

She was so rapt in making absolutely sure that it was Eve before she let the little imp inside her yodel for joy that she didn’t see Tonk coming. Next thing she knew she’d been tackled to the ground and promptly licked all over. Eve was standing over her laughing.

“He’s not supposed to jump on people,” Ani protested. She hoped her high color could be put down to the doggy attack.

“You’re not
people
. You’re part of the pack.”

“I’m the Alpha dog.”

She thought Eve muttered, “In your own mind, maybe,” but she wasn’t sure.

Ani cuffed Tonk fondly, then managed to get up. She could forgive it, especially since yesterday she’d rolled around with Tonk during their reunion. She sought something brilliant to say, but could only come up with a lame, “You changed your mind.”

“Yes.” Then Eve blushed.

Ani could not ever remember making Eve blush before. It had always been the other way around.

Tan had said something to Lisa, who had of course laughed, then she made a few trips from her car to the helicopter. On the last trip she said to Ani, “I swapped out the three-man tent for two two-mans. Warmest arrangement for the least weight.”

“Okay,” Ani said vaguely. Eve was outfitted properly in a light blue snowsuit, so Tan had obviously stopped at the depot. A pack ideal for carrying about thirty pounds and suited to Eve’s height joined the others. “Do we have enough rations?”

“Yes, including for Tonk. Eve’s got the bulk of that, water bowl, plus tarps, but we might need to redistribute.”

Ani nodded absently. Eve kept looking at her. She felt positively
goofy
. The feeling continued as they got their safety briefing from Meg, fixed Tonk with a flight harness, and buckled into their seats along the two rows of benches in the middle of the cargo area. Ani hadn’t consciously chosen to sit opposite Eve. All she knew was that after she buckled up she’d looked up to see Eve gazing at her, and the look could have ignited the air.

The lurch in the pit of her stomach as the copter skids left the ground was remarkably similar to how that look from Eve made her feel.

She wasn’t so oblivious that she didn’t notice Lisa and Tan playing footsie. Lisa, in spite of warnings, hadn’t zipped her snowsuit jacket all the way, and darned if she hadn’t found a way to show cleavage. Tan, even through sun goggles, looked dazzled. All Lisa wanted from life, she had said, was to be on someone’s pedestal. To Ani, it looked like Lisa was there. For at least the next week.

It didn’t pay to think any farther into the future than their landing. She was the trek leader, the one with the experience. They were all relying on her to keep them safe. She was glad of Tonk—dogs had uncanny instincts on the ice, and Tonk’s breeding was sound. He would shy away from thin ice over crevasses and give warnings in the remote chance of wildlife. Her job was to make sure everyone was weatherproof, that each person was keeping up with their pack load, and that they followed her path. Focus, she told herself, and stop looking at the woman you love.

Yeah, that was a good way to focus.

Fortunately, as they rose over the Naomi and turned north toward Denali, the vista of white ice floes and granite peaks was so searingly beautiful that it competed with the sight of Eve seated across from her. To have both Alaska and Eve filled Ani with a profound sense of joy, that the world was good, and life all it could be. A glance revealed that Eve was equally rapt—nothing in the world compared with the rolling white sheets riven with perfect blue streaks of bent light. She remembered Eve asking her if the glory of it made her feel small, and the answer was still no. She felt awed. She felt a part of the breathing planet the way she felt part of Eve when they were in each other’s arms.

As the crow flies, it was a short hop to Kilkat Plateau. Meg lazily swooped down to the northern end where a bold red circle marked this season’s helipad zone. A couple of cross-gusts while they were still about fifty feet above the ice weren’t surprising, but Ani saw the other three women all tense. The wind died as the skids lightly touched the surface. When Lisa made to unbuckle, Ani waved at her to stop. Meg wasn’t about to put tons of machinery on any ice surface without first testing it.

They hovered for a few seconds, then slowly settled. If there was any change to their pitch on the ice, Meg would pull them back up. But the ground underneath them stayed solid and Meg finally cut the blade speed to a quarter.

Ani again signaled for the others to stay put. She released herself and then set Tonk free. He gave her a somewhat suspicious look, but liked what he saw and smelled from the loading bay door she opened for him. Might as well let the dog do what he was bred to do. She watched him check out the skids, which of course needed to be marked, then sweep out in a widening circle near the door area. He didn’t seem alarmed by anything, so Ani deemed it safe to unload.

Four women, four full-scale mountaineering packs, a very large dog, and that was it.

“You got my frequency, right?” Meg was already starting to rev up the rotors as Ani leaned in the pilot’s door.

“Yes—and we’ve got radios and beacons. See you tomorrow at sixteen hundred, unless we radio differently.”

“You got it. Be safe!” With that, Meg upped the rotation and Ani skedaddled to join the others at a safe distance. Within minutes, the orange of the helicopter hull was a southbound dot.

Ani took a deep breath, gauging the temperature at about thirty-five in the sun. She wanted to inhale the silence that fell after the chopper’s blade noise had completely faded. There were no trees to stir in the wind, no surf to crash on sand, no clicking of electricity or far-off hint of a roadway. If sunlight on ice could make a sound, that’s all there was.

“This really is the wilderness, isn’t it?” Lisa had zipped her jacket completely closed and secured the snaps at the neck.

Tan settled her goggles into place and Eve followed suit before putting on her gloves. “Let me help you,” Tan said to Lisa. “If you get too hot, unzip these vents. You have to keep your gloves on for the traction pads in case you fall. You can also push back your hood—it’s the quickest way to reduce your body temperature. Goggles you have to keep on because of the potential for snow blindness. You’re asking for a raging headache and retina damage if you take them off for long.”

Ani let Tan concentrate on briefing Lisa as she told Eve to retrieve the walking sticks from her pack. “We’re going to hike for about an hour, then we have some climbing to do. It won’t be too bad. There’s really only one serious grade, and we’ll be camping at the top. From there, after we offload the tents and rations, it’s a short, easy hike to the accident site.” She flashed one of the two GPS units that Tan had signed out. “I can find it within two feet.”

Eve had stooped to tighten her boot laces. “This is sort of like a geocaching expedition.”

Ani hadn’t thought of it that way. “I suppose, that is, if Monica left us something to find.”

“And we’re not leaving anything in its place.” Tan gestured at her pack. “I’m ready.”

One by one they lifted packs onto each other’s backs, settling the hip belts and shoulder pads. Ani was gratified when Eve fished out a tiny camera and took a few photos. She’d not thought to bring a camera and she knew she wouldn’t want her memories of this trip to dim. It could be the last time she was with Eve, though she wasn’t going to think about that right now.

“You don’t have to lean forward,” Ani told Lisa. She tightened the shoulder straps and Lisa sighed with relief. “Don’t let the pack push you down. It’s riding on your hips, not your back.”

“That’s much better, but it already feels like a ton.”

“It’s actually easier to keep moving than it is to stand still. But remember, you weigh more than usual, you’re going to walk heavier, pack the ice harder and if you lose your balance, you’re going to topple easier. Sometimes, it’s better to let yourself fall.”

Lisa nodded. “Just like falling off a board. Sometimes, it’s better to kiss the waves than risk a board to the head.”

“One last word of warning,” Ani announced to everyone. “Blisters are serious business. If you feel any rubbing, we’ll stop and see what we can do by way of switching out socks or fixing the boots. Because of the extra weight, a blister will flare in a couple dozen steps, and escalate to extremely painful in a half mile.”

“Yes, boss,” Eve said.

Ani gave her a sheepish look. “Did I sound officious?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, just as Tan said, “No.”

“Keep doing what you do,” Eve said. “I’m feeling safer by the minute.”

Ani flushed—there was no helping it. She wanted to keep Eve safe, and so much more.

There was no set path in the ice, but there were traces of other hikers having gone this way the last several weeks. Ani had her map marked out in GPS blocks, and there were geologic features to use as guidelines, especially canyon entrances and fissures wide enough to have been named and marked on the survey map. She set a slow, steady pace, figuring about two miles an hour. She could likely travel faster, but mostly because her stride was longer.

“Weren’t we just over there?” Lisa pointed to an outcropping on the other side of a deep fissure.

“Yep. We had to cross over and double back.” She whistled to Tonk, who promptly returned from a foray behind them.

“My pack is so heavy. Why didn’t we bring a sled and mush it?” Lisa looked to be developing a full-on pout, after only a quarter mile.

“Now that I see the ice condition, a sled would have slowed us down. The surface is actually quite soft—not ideal for sleds, even though the dogs would love it. We’re moving faster under our own steam.”

“Sure, easy for you to say.”

Ani gave her a narrow look. “Do we need to stop and redistribute?”

“No.” Lisa took on a stubborn expression. “But I will have to pee in a while.”

Ani smiled. “Oh, that’s fun for girls out here.”

“I can hardly wait.”

Eve, third in line between Lisa and Tan, offered up a game. “We used to play it on long car rides. I say a name or a phrase or a place, and the next person says whatever comes to mind. So if I say Clark Gable, Ani says…”

“Gable and Lombard? Is that the duo?”

Eve nodded. She looked back over her shoulder. “And Tan says?”

“Lombard Street, San Francisco.”

Lisa promptly said, “Richard Nixon.”

“I don’t get it,” Ani said.

“Lombard Street is the crookedest street in the world, and Richard Nixon was—”

“Not a crook,” Eve said with a passable imitation. “A double jump, very subtle. So I say Spiro T. Agnew.”

“Spirograph,” Ani contributed. The game proved to pass the time, and led to numerous explanations of why one thing prompted thoughts of another, and they were soon discussing movies and music. Tan liked something called Panic at the Disco, which elicited an approving wink from Lisa. Under the easy banter, Ani kept turning to the possibility of finding the notebook she had thought she’d destroyed. If they found it, what would she do?

Their potty break was fraught with the usual joy of coping with the wind, privacy and disposal. Tan had the “female urinal” gear that Ani was familiar with, and though Lisa was vocally squeamish, a demonstration of the disinfecting wipes and bury-it-or-burn-it trail etiquette met with reluctant cooperation.