Joy Takes Flight (7 page)

The dogs started barking and tugging on their leads. Angel stood on the porch and growled. Paul's protective alarm went off when he heard the crunch of snow.

“Quiet down, dogs,” Lily called. “It's just me.” She appeared on the trail, carrying a lantern. A tall native man was with her.

The two of them walked up to the porch steps. Paul and Kate stood.

“I heard your plane come in,” Lily said, “and thought you two might want to meet our new neighbor.” She turned to the man standing beside her. “This is Clint Tucker. He took over the homestead that belonged to Klaus.” She smiled up at the big man in a way that made Paul wonder if she might have found the man of her dreams.

Paul reached out a hand. “Good to meet you, Clint.”

“Nice to meet you.” Clint's grasp was firm.

“Paul's a doctor and Kate's a pilot,” Lily said. “We're all set for a ride or medical help if we need it.”

“I like that.” His smile was quiet, but friendly. “I was lucky to find this place. It's exactly what I've been looking for.”

“Do you have family around here?” Kate asked.

“Not exactly. My parents and two brothers live up near Palmer—not too far.”

“You've got yourself a fine place. Klaus put a lot of work into it.” Paul draped the blanket around Kate. “The cabin's solid and there's a large garden patch. And in all the years Klaus lived here I don't think he ever had an animal break into his cache.” Memories of old Klaus ignited in Paul's mind. He was a fine man and Paul missed him.

“I heard he was a good man.”

“True. And a good neighbor. He's buried on the rise overlooking the river.”

“Yeah. I saw that. I figure I'll keep up his grave.” Clint's dark eyes were warm.

“So, what are you two doing out here in the cold?” Lily asked.

“Stargazing,” Kate glanced at Paul. “And dreaming a little.”

“They just got married,” Lily explained.

“Ah.” Clint grinned, showing off large white teeth. “Congratulations.”

“We'll leave you to your stargazing,” Lily said.

“Glad to meet you.” Clint tossed a black braid off his shoulder. “It'll take me awhile to get the feel for the place. You mind if I ask you a question now and then?”

“Anytime.” Paul liked Clint and looked forward to getting to know him. “You ever run a team of dogs?”

“Sure. I want to get some dogs and I plan to make a sled.”

“Let me know if you need a hand. And you might check down at Susitna Station if you're looking for dogs or pups. They have some from time to time.”

“Okay. I'll do that.”

“Bye,” Lily said, and then she and Clint headed toward Lily's place.

Kate and Paul returned to their porch step. Kate chuckled. “I think Lily likes him.”

“I think you're right. And who knows—maybe he's the one for her.”

“I hope so. It would be nice for her and the baby. Being married makes life better.”

Paul gave Kate a lingering kiss. Then speaking against her lips, he said, “You make life better.”

She kissed him and giggled.

He draped an arm over her shoulders and looked out over the property. “Do you think we ought to expand the garden? There's just two of us now, but who knows . . . maybe one day there'll be more.”

“Maybe.” Kate smiled at him. “Only God knows about that.” She looked at the garden area. “Will we be here enough to take care of a large garden?”

Paul shoved down frustration. Kate hadn't heard him. He slid his arm off her shoulders and leaned forward on his thighs. “I don't think it'll be a problem. If we need to, we can hire Patrick's boys. They helped out last summer. So did Lily. But with two of us to work, it might be easier. And we won't be gone all the time.”

“You know how it is in the summer,” Kate said, glancing into her empty cup. “I'll be gone a lot and so will you. The days are long and so are the flights. Plus you'll be needed more. There are a lot of folks who wait until summer to see a doctor.”

Paul let his gaze roam over the forest and across his property. “I was hoping you'd work less . . . now that we're married. I have plenty of money and you don't need to save up for a house. In fact, you could sell the place in town.”

“Sell it?”

Kate's strident tone took Paul by surprise. “Well . . . having two houses doesn't really make sense.”

“It belonged to Mike. He wanted me to have it.”

“I know, but that was when you needed a house.”

Kate shoved her fingers through her short hair. “If I sell it, I feel like I'm giving away part of him.” Her voice wobbled. “I loved him.” She swiped away tears. “Not the way I love you, but he was my best friend for a long time.”

Paul felt like he'd stepped into a minefield and wasn't sure how to find a safe way out. “I just thought—”

“I'm not selling it. Maybe we could sell this place. I work out of Anchorage and being in town makes sense. It would be easier for you too—to get your supplies and work with patients that need hospitalization.”

“No. I'm not moving.” Paul stood and walked to the bottom step, looking out over his property. How could she even suggest he sell his home? “I've put endless hours into this place. I built this cabin, the workshed, the cache, and I put in the garden. And what about the dogs? There's no place for them in town. And no room for a garden.”

“We can use the store . . . like other people do. That's what you did when you lived in San Francisco.”

“That was different. I'm not the same man I was when I lived there.” He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “I've spent the last six years here, and I'm not moving.”

“You sure you're not just trying to keep me safely on the ground?” Kate couldn't keep the accusation out of her voice. “If I'm out here, Jack's not going to use me nearly as much. And eventually he could drop me altogether.”

“He wouldn't do that.”

“Jack can do anything he wants and he does.”

Paul looked at the cabin. “I love this place. I envision us living here, raising a family, fishing the river, and mushing the dogs.” He gazed at her in the light of the rising moon. “I thought you felt the same.”

“I do. I love it here.” Kate moved down the steps to Paul. “Town just seems more reasonable.” The combativeness seemed to have gone out of her. She tucked an arm into Paul's. “We don't have to decide right away. We can take as long as we need.” She leaned against him. “Let's not fight.”

“Yeah. I don't want to fight,” Paul said, but he knew he wouldn't change his mind. This was home. It was a friend—the place that had sheltered him from the world when he'd needed it.

Kate would get used to it. She'd agree with him . . . eventually.

K
ate held a stick up out of the dogs' reach. They danced around her, watching and waiting for her to throw the prize. “Okay. Here you go.” She tossed the short branch down the snow-covered trail, then watched, feeling content as all four dogs charged after it. Life was good.

“Hey, Kate,” Paul hollered from the back porch. “I got a call from Jack. There's a family that needs a doctor right away.”

“Okay. I'll take care of the dogs.”

Kate secured Buck, Jackpot, and Nita, then headed toward the cabin with Angel beside her. She stepped inside the house, eager to get into the air. “Where are we headed?”

“A homestead outside of Valdez.”

“What's happened?”

“I'm not sure, except that a child is ill.”

Kate gave a nod. “We'll need some general supplies and food. Can you take care of that while I get the plane ready?”

“I'm on it.” Paul set his medical bag on the table and opened it. “Guess I won't be chopping wood today.” He went to work inspecting his supplies.

Kate set a pail of oil on the stove to warm and hurried to the bedroom to pack some clothes. She hated the idea of a sick child, but flying with Paul and working with him was always exhilarating.

By the time she'd added the warmed oil to the engine, given the plane a thorough inspection, and had it flight ready, Paul had made his way down the trail. He loaded the supplies and his medical bag. Angel leaped aboard.

“I'll crank her,” Paul said.

Kate doubled-checked the gauges. When the flywheel was going well, she started the engine.

Paul climbed in, latched the door behind him, then stashed the crank and took the passenger seat in front. “Low ceiling,” he said, scanning the gray cloud cover.

“Looks like snow's on the way.” Kate set up for takeoff and then moved down the runway. “You and Clint did a good job on the airstrip.” She gradually picked up speed. The plane lifted off and Kate made a wide sweep away from home and turned south.

“Clint's a good hard worker and a fine neighbor.” Paul gazed down the frozen Susitna River, then pulled out a map he'd drawn up. “Jack gave me the coordinates and explained where to find the homestead.” He held out a chart along with some notes for Kate.

She studied it. “Shouldn't be too hard to find. Is there a landing strip?”

“Guess we'll find out when we get there. But since they live along Robe Lake there's a good chance they've cleared a place on the ice—no way in and out of there in the winter other than by plane. Unless they use dogs.”

“We'll find them.” With confidence, Kate headed southwest out of Cook Inlet and along Turnagain Arm.

“Lots of ice floes,” Paul said, looking at the muddy ocean water below.

Kate followed the coast with its forests of spruce and hemlock reaching toward the water's edge, then she maneuvered through Portage Pass to avoid hidden peaks and treacherous winds in the mountain terrain. She moved up Portage Valley, breathing in the beauty of the glacial floes that wound their way through the mountains. The views slipping by below warmed Kate's heart. There was nothing like flying.

“I'm always impressed by the beauty of this territory,” Paul said.

“Yeah. I don't think I'll ever get used to it. Anyway, I hope not.” Kate smiled at Paul. Her life was pretty nearly perfect. She had the career she'd always wanted and now she got to share her life with the best man she'd ever known.

Kate flew over Valdez. “Okay, watch for the lake. It might be hard to spot because of the heavy snow. It'll blend into the terrain.”

“Is that it?” Paul shouted over the noise of the engine.

“Could be. It's a lake all right.”

Paul looked at the map, then his notes. “Jack said the house would be on the Valdez side of the lake.” He scanned the forest that pressed in around the frozen, snow-covered lake. A cabin emerged from the forest, smoke trailing into the sky from a chimney.

“That's got to be it.” Kate pushed the control wheel in and gradually descended. She dropped down over the lake for a closer look, hoping for a good place to set down.

Someone stepped out of the cabin and trudged out into the snow in front of the house. He waved his arms over his head.

“This is it.” Kate made another pass over the area in front of the cabin to make sure it was clear of debris and hidden berms. Everything looked good. She set up close to shore, using the visible trees to give her some depth perception over the milky white lake.

The skis touched and Kate could feel them sink into the deep snow. “They've had a lot of snowfall.” She taxied at a good clip so she could maneuver the plane around so it faced the way she'd come in—lined up in the tracks she'd already laid down. It would make for an easier takeoff.

Paul climbed out of his seat and grabbed his bag, his mind already with the patient waiting for him. He hoped they weren't facing anything too serious. As soon as the plane came to a stop, he moved to the back and opened the door. Angel jumped out and romped through mounds of snow.

“Well, let's see what's going on,” Paul said, tromping toward the cabin.

The man who'd waved at them was tall and thin and, like many men in the bush, sported a full beard. He stood with his hands in his pockets while he waited for Paul and Kate. When they reached him, he held out a hand. “Sure glad to see you. I'm Ken Baker.” He shook Paul's hand, then Kate's.

“Paul Anderson and this is Kate, my wife and pilot.”

“We're thankful you come all this way. My boy's real sick. Nothing we do seems to help.” He headed toward the cabin steps.

“How long has he been sick?” Paul asked.

“Nearly three weeks. He had a real sore throat and a fever, then he got better for a few days. Figured he was over it. The rest of the kids got sick right along with him, but they healed up—no problem.”

“That's good to hear,” Paul said, thinking through the possibilities.

“Caleb's got a fever, his body aches somethin' awful, and there're strange markings on his arms and legs—kinda like bruises.”

“Let's have a look at him,” Paul said, concern spiking. “Does he have a rash?”

“Nope. None that I seen.”

Paul followed Ken indoors, stopping in the kitchen.

“This is my wife, Gertrude,” Ken said.

“Nice to meet you.” The heavyset woman swiped a strand of blonde hair off her face and tried to tuck it into the twist of hair at the nap of her neck. Three children clustered around her, and stared at Paul and Kate. Paul guessed they didn't see outsiders often.

“We've been real worried,” said Gertrude. “Thank you for coming.”

“I'm glad to.”

Paul and Kate followed Ken and Gertrude into a stuffy room packed with beds. A boy who looked to be about ten lay prostrate in one of the beds. His breathing was labored and he was obviously very ill.

Ken leaned over his son. “Caleb, this is the doctor. He's come to make you better.”

By the looks of the boy, Paul hoped the youngster's father was right. He put on a smile and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hello, Caleb. I understand you're not feeling so good.”

The boy mumbled, “No sir. I ain't.”

Kate watched from the doorway with the rest of the children crowding around her to peek in. Paul rested the back of his hand on the boy's forehead, then opened his medical bag and took out a thermometer. Placing it in Caleb's mouth, he said, “Keep this under your tongue.” He retrieved a stethoscope from the bag, placed it against the youngster's chest, and listened. Caleb's heart rate was unusually rapid. “Can you take a deep breath?”

Caleb did as instructed, but the effort seemed almost too much for him. Paul moved the stethoscope and repeated the request. He made no comment as he lifted the child's arm and pushed up his pajama sleeve, but he knew the child was seriously ill. Caleb closed his eyes and moaned.

“Did my touching your arm hurt?” Paul asked as he bent the boy's arm slightly.

“Uh-huh.”

The elbow was red and swollen. And there were uneven blotches that looked like bruises on both arms. He examined his trunk and legs—more bruises. Along with the blotches nearly all his joints were swollen, red and hot.
Rheumatic fever!

Paul gently lowered Caleb back onto the bed. “You rest, son.” He stood and looked at Ken and Gertrude. “Can we talk in the other room?”

Gertrude went pale, then after dropping a kiss on Caleb's forehead, she followed Paul into the adjoining room. “Okay, off with you,” she said to the other children. “You have chores to do.” Without argument, they hustled to the doorway where they pulled on coats and hats, then like a flock of sheep hurried outdoors.

“What is it, doctor?” Ken asked.

“Rheumatic fever. He has all the classic symptoms.”

A small gasp escaped Gertrude. “Will he be all right?”

“It'll take time, but he should recover. His heart's working hard right now—that's a worry. With this kind of ailment, heart damage is our greatest concern. He needs to be hospitalized.”

“No!” Gertrude blurted.

Her answer was so abrupt and defiant, Paul was taken aback. “They have a first-rate hospital in Anchorage and will take good care of him there. And Kate can—”

“I said, no.” Gertrude shook her head back and forth. “Hospitals are places where people go to die. I won't allow it.” She shot a glance at Ken.

He furrowed his brows. “Maybe the doctor's right, Gertie.”

Gertrude's eyes brimmed. “I can't.” She shook her head. “No.”

Ken turned to Paul. “We had another boy, who got real sick with a blood disease. He went to the hospital and . . . he never came home.” The room turned quiet as a tomb. “Is there something we can do here . . . at home?” Ken finally asked.

Paul would have been more comfortable with Caleb in the hospital, but he doubted there'd be any way to convince his mother to let him go. “He can stay here, but I really think his best chance at a full recovery is at the hospital. They have skilled physicians, and nurses will watch over him around the clock.”

Gertrude pressed a fist to her mouth and shook her head. “Just tell us what to do. We'll take care of him.”

Paul could see there would be no convincing her. He let out a breath. “How about if I stay for a few days? I can monitor his condition and that way if he becomes critical we can transport him.”

Gertrude squeezed her eyes closed and tipped her face upward. When she looked at Paul, she seemed less frightened. “You promise he'll only go if it's necessary?”

“I promise.”

“I think that's wise,” Ken said, obviously trying to be sensitive to his wife, while doing his best to protect his son.

“All right. I'll agree to that,” she said, balling her hands into fists.

Paul turned to Kate. “Can you come back for me in a week or so? If need be, I'll radio you.”

“I can stay . . . unless Jack needs me.” She took Paul's hand and squeezed it. “I don't have anything better to do.” She smiled at him. “I'll let Jack know where I am.”

“What if a call comes in?”

“I'll check with Jack off and on during the day, and if he has a run for me I'll go and then come back.”

“We have a small room off the kitchen where you can sleep,” Gertrude said. “It's not much, but I think we can make you comfortable.”

“That'll be fine,” Paul said. “I'll have another look at Caleb and get him started on some medication. And I think we can make him more comfortable.”

“He says his legs hurt real bad.”

“That's not uncommon. I'll show you how to make a tent with the sheets so they don't lay on his legs. His fever was pretty high, but a sponge bath should help that. And I've got some medication for his pain.” He headed toward the bedroom with Gertrude close behind him.