Daughters (27 page)

When Karen had an idea stuck in her craw, it would take dynamite to get it out. “Okay. Alaska it is.”

“Really? You’ll go?”

“I’ll go.”

They planned to be in Alaska in the middle of June. Before they left for the trip, Karen asked Marie about Barry’s gun shop.

“I was cleaning out the basement the other day and ran across the gun Ed used to…well, to kill himself. I had forgotten it was even down there. I don’t know what to do with it. Can’t just throw it away. Wonder if Barry would buy it from me.”

“If not, I’ll bet he may know someone who would.”

“Would you go with me?”

“Sure.”

They drove Karen’s 1949 Ford convertible with the top down, the brightly colored kerchiefs on their heads flapping in the breeze. When the “Stone Guns and Ammo” sign came into view, Marie said, “There it is. On the right.”

When they entered the shop, Marie couldn’t help but notice Barry stand up a little straighter, tuck in his stomach, and quickly pitch a
Playboy
magazine under the counter. “Hi! How’s the best shot this side of the Missouri River?” he teased through a dimpled grin.

She felt a warm flush creep up her neck. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Couldn’t be better.” He gave Karen an abrupt glance and then focused on Marie. “I don’t get many girls in here. It sure is a nice change of scenery.” Marie hadn’t noticed before how luminous his blue eyes were.

“Barry, this is my friend, Karen. She has a rifle she wants to sell, and I thought maybe you could help her.” Barry followed the two women to Karen’s car, guiding Marie out the door with his hand in the small of her back. Karen opened the trunk and showed him the gun.

He picked it up, made sure it wasn’t loaded, and then pulled it up to his cheek to peer through the sight. As she watched Barry handle it, Karen’s expression appeared to reflect the morbid memories associated with the gun.

“Not bad. I don’t buy used guns myself, but I could keep it here if you want, and if I hear of someone who’s interested in buying it, I could put you in touch with them.” Barry’s gaze fell upon the pair of antique German handcuffs that lay between the spare tire and first aid box. He picked it up gingerly between his thumb and index finger, the way a new father might pick up a dirty diaper. “Come alongs?” He gave Karen a teasing smile. “So…do ya use these much?”

The blood quickly rose up to Karen’s face. Marie stood to the side laughing.

“Well, I sort of collect them.”

“You have more?”

“Oh, she has tons more, and leg irons too,” Marie said through laughter. “And a ball and chain.”

Karen lowered her head and drew a circle in the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “Okay, you can stop now.”

Barry gave Karen a suspicious once-over before setting the object back down in the trunk. Then he picked up the rifle, and the three of them headed inside where he said he’d write up a consignment receipt.

Turning to Marie, he asked, “Have you done any target shooting since you were here last?”

“No, but I wish there was someplace close to me where I could. I must admit, I really enjoyed it.”

“You’re welcome to come to my place anytime.” He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled just enough to make the corners of his mouth turn up. “You’ve got my number, right?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“Here’s my card in case you don’t.” He put his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans in a cowboy stance. “Call me anytime, and I’ll take you to the next level.”

Marie wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

“Of shooting.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Well, see ya ‘round.”

“What a nice guy,” Karen said once they were back in the car.

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re going to call him, right?”

“I wish there was someplace in Atchison to target shoot. Do you know of any place?”

“Marie. He was so flirting with you. And he couldn’t have been any cuter if he had been holding a cocker spaniel puppy. Why not call him?”

“Karen, after Paul, I may never be interested in any man ever again.”

“C’mon. That’s just nonsense.”

“Who’s to say Barry doesn’t hold the same views as Paul…and just about everyone else out there? No, I may be done. And let’s not forget, I’m still married.” She wasn’t ready to admit it, but she did miss being with someone. “And besides, he has my number. If he was that interested, he would call me.”

“You don’t know men very well, do you? Most of the time they need to be led to where they want to be. Look, your marriage has long been over. Anyone can see that. You’re going to divorce him. And Barry is obviously smitten with you.”

“Smitten? You are so funny. Although he did ask me out.”

“Really? When?”

“After a few shooting lessons.”

“And you said no?”

“Yes, I said no. I told him then I was married.”

Karen shook her head. “Here’s what I would do.”

“Whatever you’re about to say, I’m not going there. If I’m going to try another relationship, which I’m not even sure I’ll ever do, I’m going to be divorced first.”

“Well, have it your way, but…”

“I know. I know. You’d do it differently.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “You bet I would.”

“So why don’t
you
make a play for him?”

“It’s you he’s interested in, Marie. He didn’t look twice at me.”

“And if he knew who my father was, he wouldn’t look twice at me either.”

“If you say so.”

They left for Alaska the following month, right after Michael Cavanaugh told Marie the divorce papers had been filed and Richard had been given ninety days to appeal.

They flew into Fairbanks and checked into the Wedgewood Resort the first night. Karen had been right. The new scenery was a welcomed change.

The next day they rode a train through Denali National Park, where they stayed two days. In Anchorage, they took a sightseeing tour and a floatplane ride over the glaciers. Twenty-three continuous hours of daylight took some getting used to.

Next, they went on a three-day cruise on the
M.S. Noordstrom
, where they met photographer Adam White. It was close to ten o’clock in the evening when Adam walked into the bar, scanned the crowded room, and asked Marie and Karen if he could join them at their table. He was tall, with dark curly hair and a welcoming smile. Marie thought he looked harmless enough and welcomed him to join them.

They sat there for hours as Adam told them fascinating stories about his adventures all over the world, photographing wildlife and nature. Contracted by
National Geographic
to photograph Alaskan wildlife, he shot during the day while the ship was in port, and in the evenings he mostly sat in the ship’s bar and drank beer. The three of them drank and talked into the wee hours of the morning.

Adam’s flirtatious demeanor made it obvious he was attracted to Marie. But his attention was the last thing she wanted or needed, so she tried to brush it off. Later in their room, Karen pushed it.

“Go for it! He’s a nice guy. He lives in Indianapolis. You’ll never have to see him again. So why not?”

“I have no interest, Karen.
You
go for him.”

“He’s not interested in
me.
”

“Well, I’m not interested in him.”

On the second day, Karen became seasick and had to stay in the cabin for the rest of the day. Marie stood on the deck waiting for the ship to port in Sitka, where she had planned to do some souvenir shopping, when Adam walked up behind her. “Where’s your friend?” he asked. He had more camera equipment hanging around his neck and off his shoulders than she thought one person could carry.

“Seasick,” she responded.

Adam’s face lit up. “Would you like to accompany me on a shoot?”

Not able to think of a polite way to decline fast enough, she said, “Okay.” They walked down the gangplank together. “What are you shooting?”

“Eagles.”

“You’re kidding.” She pictured them soaring high in the sky and wondered how he would ever get a good shot at them.

They were walking down the boardwalk in the harbor when Adam dropped his equipment in a patch of grass and readied his tripod and camera for a picture. Marie looked up into the sky, but she didn’t see anything. She turned back toward him and looked in disbelief at where he had focused his camera.

There, perched on a low branch of a tree not more than twenty feet from them, sat a bald eagle. She had no idea eagles were that big…or that majestic. It sat motionless on the branch, looking right at Adam, its blackish brown feathers gently moving in sync with the breeze coming in off the water.

Adam clicked off several shots and then took a step back to admire the bird without hindrance from the camera. “What do you think?” he asked without taking his eyes off the eagle.

“I think he’s amazing.”

“It’s a she.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’m not always right, but this one has an unusually deep beak, and she’s large. Females are generally larger than males.”

Marie studied its massive hooked yellow beak. “I’ll bet that beak could do some serious harm.”

“Just ask the salmon.”

“That’s what they eat?”

“Yeah, they’ll snatch a salmon out of the water, but they’ll also feed on carrion.”

Without warning, the eagle let out a high-pitched twitter and sprung from its perch, its piercing eyes focusing on something in the distance.

Marie’s glance moved toward the harbor where a half dozen other eagles were perched on pilings. “Just amazing.” Adam joined her gaze and pointed his camera on another large female just about to take off, clicking the shutter twenty times while the bird glided up into higher altitude.

“What a wingspan!”

“Well over six feet, I’d say.”

Adam took over two hundred photographs in all. Picture-worthy subjects were easy to find. At one point he let Marie look through the lens, putting his arm around her while he explained what she was seeing, what he wanted her to capture. She felt uncomfortable with his arm around her but found the birds so captivating, she allowed it.

Marie found herself smiling as they walked back to the ship, and when he asked her if she wanted to join him for dinner, she agreed, knowing Karen would still be holed up in their cabin. They talked about his work during dinner and how he planned to spend the rest of his time in Alaska. He put his arm around her waist while they walked to the Eagle’s Nest for a nightcap. He ordered a bottle of wine.

Fascinated with his work, she leaned in with her elbows on the table and continued asking him questions. Sitting with his legs outstretched, ankles crossed, and his left hand supporting the side of his face, he responded to her questions, but only with short, abrupt answers. When his eyes kept wandering around the room, she changed the subject and asked him about his family.

He sat up straight, put his arms on the table, and leaned in toward her. “Look, honey. This has all the makings of a fuckin’ one-night stand, not a remake of
Camelot
, for God’s sake. Can we skip the small talk?”

Marie got up from the table. “No, but we
can
skip the one-night stand.”

She told Karen about the incident as soon as she returned to their cabin. “So this is why half the time I say I’m done with men. Who needs that?”

“Hey, everyone needs a little romp in the hay now and again.”

“Karen!”

Their trip ended in Vancouver. All in all it was a trip they would remember for a long time, and Adam White was a name Marie would throw up in Karen’s face for a long time too.