It just got lonely sometimes, that’s all. Especially now with so much of life behind him.
The young woman in front of him, he thought, had the whole world before her.
He wondered why she hadn’t left the confines of her Alaskan “prison” the way so many of her age had, according to Jimmy. He was the one who’d told him about the penchant most Alaskan teenagers had for fleeing the area the moment they were old enough.
Jimmy’s own wife, April, June’s sister, had shot out of the region like a bat out of hell the moment she’d turned eighteen. Only her grandmother’s illness had brought her back. Temporarily, she’d thought. She was still here.
As for him, Kevin couldn’t help wondering what the allure was, what kind of magical pull the region exercised over people like April, Max and June. Why were they still here when there was so much more to be had in the lower forty-nine?
“Jimmy and Alison couldn’t get away,” June was explaining. “The vaccine they’d been waiting for came in. They needed to get inoculations underway immediately.”
At least, that was what Jimmy had told her. She still thought the excuse was a little fishy, but she’d needed a break anyway. If it wasn’t for the fact that she hated accepting defeat in any shape or size, she would have begun rethinking the wisdom of her change in occupation. Farming was not the closest thing to her heart, but making a go of the family farm had become a matter of honor to her.
Getting in front of Sydney, June reached for Kevin’s suitcase. “And Lily’s busy getting ready.”
The woman looked as solid as a spring breeze. He placed his hand over the handle, stopping her from picking up the luggage. “Ready for what, the wedding?”
“You,” Sydney told him over June’s head.
“Me?” That didn’t make any sense. Why would Lily be fussing over his arrival? “I’ve seen her first thing in the morning, stumbling down the stairs wearing an old pair of men’s pajamas and looking like hell on an off day. There’s no need to get ready for me.”
An enigmatic smile played on Sydney’s, his pilot’s, lips. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Sydney told him. “But I’m sworn to secrecy.” Playfully she held up a hand to stop any further exchange on the subject. “Sorry, you won’t get any more out of me.”
“Fair enough,” he allowed, then looked at his future sister-in-law. She made another attempt to take the case from him. “I can carry my own suitcase, June. I’m not that old yet.”
June raised her hand, visually surrendering her claim to the large piece of carry-on luggage. The man traveled light, she thought. An admirable quality. Of course, if this had been winter, it would have also been a foolish one, she silently added.
“You’re not old at all,” she countered. Shrugging, she slipped her capable hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “I’m just used to doing, that’s all.”
The single word hung out there like a forgotten T-shirt on a clothesline. “Doing?”
“Everything,” June said all inclusively. Accustomed to being challenged, she raised her chin. “Just because I’m a female doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own. Better than my own,” she amended.
Kevin exchanged glances with Sydney. The latter merely looked amused. He certainly hadn’t meant to give any offense.
“That was never under debate,” he told June. “But I like pulling my own weight, too.”
Sydney shook her head. This might not go as well as the others were hoping. As for herself, she believed in letting nature take its course. If something was meant to be, it would be. She was living proof of that, having come out to marry a man who had won her heart through his letters, and wound up marrying his brother instead.
“Well, when you’re both finished pulling on the same weight,” Sydney informed Kevin, “the plane’s over this way.”
Turning, she led the way out of the airport. Kevin gestured June on ahead of him. With a tolerant sigh, the latter turned on the heel of her boot and followed Sydney. Her long, shiny blond braid swung behind her and then marked time with her gait before it finally settled into place.
Kevin found himself watching, mesmerized for a brief moment. Coming to, he smiled and shook his head as he hurried to catch up to the two women. You would have thought he was an adolescent, he mused, mildly upbraiding himself.
Kevin stared out the small window. Below him the world had arranged itself in a carpet of green with ribbons of blue cutting through it here and there. In the distance, and getting taller, was a mountain range. The rattle of the plane didn’t detract from the experience. It just made it more intimate.
They hit an air pocket and the plane shuddered. Sydney glanced over her shoulder to see if her passenger was all right. When Alison’s brother had come out the last time, Shayne had been the one who’d piloted him back and forth.
She was pleased to see that Kevin was intent on studying the landscape instead of grasping onto the seat rests for dear life.
“You don’t turn green like a lot of other people flying in this little plane.” Her tone was approving.
Kevin leaned forward in his seat in order to hear Sydney better. “I trust the pilot. Besides, I like to fly. I’m licensed to fly a twin engine.”
She’d loved flying from the first time she’d had her hands on the throttle. “Maybe you’d like to take her up while you’re here.”
He’d like that, he thought. But he had a very healthy respect for other people’s property and this plane was one that was used by Shayne to fly medical supplies into Hades and patients to Anchorage Memorial when they needed serious surgery.
“Maybe,” Kevin said.
Sydney detoured, guiding the plane around a cloud formation. He found himself admiring her form. “Are you still the only pilot in and out of Hades? Besides your husband,” he qualified. Shayne, he recalled, had been the one to originally teach Sydney how to fly. Although grudgingly done, that had turned out to be a good thing for him, since she’d been the one who had to fly Shayne into Anchorage when he’d had appendicitis.
She’d gotten so used to the addition it took her a second to grasp the question. Her world had become small enough that it was easy to forget that everyone wasn’t privy to what went on in Hades.
“No, Mr. Kellogg’s son decided that he was going to expand his produce flights and operate out of Hades. That brings our total of planes up to two, but we certainly need more,” Sydney confided. “We’ve been doing a lot of growing since you were here last.”
He looked out the window. The plane was approaching Hades. It certainly didn’t appear as if the town, with its population of barely five hundred, was growing at all. From here, it still looked like a small, colorful dot on the ground. Hardly big enough to occupy even a tiny corner of a city like Seattle.
Sitting next to him, June looked at him knowingly. She could all but read the thoughts forming in his head. “Not exactly a thriving metropolis yet,” she agreed. “But we’re getting there. Slowly.”
He shifted back into his seat. “You still run the only mechanic shop in town?”
“No.” Despite her excuse to her brother, she had to admit that there were times she missed the shop. Missed puzzling over what was wrong with an engine, or how to resurrect a car that seemed to be on its last legs. Missed the triumphant feeling when it all finally came together. “Walter runs it now.”
“Walter?” He tried to recall if any of his siblings had mentioned a Walter. He made the natural