Love In Alaska (The Love In 50 States Series Book 2) Read online

  “I'm not sure my ears have ever sweated before.”

  He grinned. “New experiences all over the place today,” he said and I laughed.

  The propellor blurred in front of us and Evan guided us away from the dock. It was a strange sensation, being in a plane but feeling like I was on a boat. He maneuvered us to the middle of the sound and spoke to the tower. I was surprised when a third voice entered the headset, telling us we could take off when we were ready. The engine whined harder and I could barely make out the propellor as we started to glide forward, gradually picking up speed. Evan's eyes were focused straight ahead, his hands on the steering thing. Then he pulled back gently on it and we lifted right out of the water.

  My stomach dropped like I was on a roller coaster as I looked out the window. Evan's voice and the tower voice crackled in my ear as we went up, but I was oblivious to their words, my eyes glued to the window, watching everything get smaller as we climbed higher. I'd never paid much attention to flying in a big commercial plane before, but when it felt like we were in a tiny pod above the planet, it was impossible not to notice.

  The plane leveled out and I looked across Evan to the other side. It seemed as if we were level with the top of the mountains. Everything seemed brighter, shinier in the blue sky.

  “Pretty spectacular, right?” Evan said, his eyes still forward.

  “It's amazing,” I said. “Amazing.”

  “Keep on enjoying, then,” he said. “We'll be up for about ninety minutes or so.”

  I settled into my seat, unable to keep the huge grin off my seat as we flew over Alaska.

  SIX

  We stayed over the water for nearly the entire flight, the plane buzzing on the outside of my headset. Evan and I chatted easily, mostly about Alaska, as we flew. I stayed away from anything personal and I think he made the conscious choice to do that, too. I was comfortable with him and I didn't want to ruin that, especially when we were confined to a small plane and had nowhere to go if things got weird.

  He mentioned again that Kodiak was an island and as we banked left, I could see it in the distance, a big uneven dot with jagged mountains sitting in the middle of the water. A third voice entered my headset again, guiding Evan in. I shifted in my seat. The flight had been spectacular, but I was ready to get out and stretch my legs.

  We glided down, the water rushing toward us, and my hands tightened together in my lap. I was pretty sure I would never get used to landings. I thought I saw Evan smiling as I stiffened, but I wasn't sure.

  The pontoons hit the water and it was smoother than any other landing I'd ever experienced, the glassy water providing no resistance. Our speed slowed and we taxied into a very small marina. Evan pulled up next to a wide dock and the propellor eventually came to a stop. He pulled off his headset and I did the same.

  “So?” he said, turning to look at me. “Not too traumatizing, right?”

  “Not in any way,” I said. “Except for the sweaty ears.”

  He grinned. “I told you.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, tucking the sweat-dampened strands behind my ears. “It was a great flight. Better than I expected.”

  “Good,” he said. “It was nice having company.” He motioned toward my side of the plane. “If you wanna unlock, we can climb out and see if our legs still work.”

  I undid the latch and pushed the door open, the fresh air a nice change from the stuffy cabin. I climbed out of the cockpit and stretched on the deck, my arms and legs welcoming the escape from the cramped quarters. Evan slid out and immediately went to the cargo bay door and started pulling the boxes out.

  “Let me help,” I said.

  He hesitated.

  “You said I needed to help,” I reminded him.

  “I was kidding.”

  “Well, I'm not.”

  He frowned, then stepped aside and let me reach for a box. “Go for it,” he said.

  Ten minutes later, we had all of the boxes unloaded from his plane and stacked on the dock. The air was cool but I'd worked up a sweat from lifting crates of apples and bananas and heads of broccoli. Evan had down twice the work as me, his collection of boxes significantly higher, but I was happy I'd been able to help just a little. Two teenagers met us on the dock with dollies and, after chatting with Evan for a couple of minutes, they loaded up the boxes and carted them away. One of them had a clipboard and Evan signed the top sheet and the kid gave him a receipt. They shook hands and he loaded up the last three boxes and walked them down the dock.

  “Now we're free,” he said, smiling.

  “Are you serious? That's all we have to do?”

  “That's it,” he said. “We delivered our stuff. He gave me the store order for next week. Our work day is over.”

  “This seems like a good gig,” I said. “It feels like we didn't do anything.”

  “We flew to an island,” he reminded me. “And we delivered a boatload of produce.”

  “Hardly an eight hour day.”

  “Eight hour days are for suckers,” he said with a smile. “But trust me, fourteen hour days are more my norm, especially when I do multiple runs.”

  “You didn't have to cut work short because of me,” I said, guilt creeping in. “I would have been happy to just fly along.”

  He held up a hand. “Please. This is what I wanted to do. Make a delivery and then spend the rest of the day with you. The only question now is how we spend our time here.”

  “Didn't you mention hiking?”

  He folded his arms across his chest and thought for a moment. “Yeah, but we've got a few options. We can hike some of the local trails around here. Pretty scenic, pretty easy. Bunch to choose from. That's what the tourists do.”

  The way he said it, I could tell that wasn't his choice.

  “But you don't want to do that,” I said.

  “I didn't say that.”

  “You might as well have.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, so maybe I turn my nose up a bit at the touristy stuff.”

  “So if it was just you, what would you go do?”

  “Backcountry,” he said. “No question.”

  “Can we do that?”

  “Well, sure,” he said slowly. “But it would mean a couple things.”

  “Like?”

  “One, you'd have to be up for a tougher hike,” he said. He must have saw my posture stiffen because he held up his hand. “And I'm not suggesting you can't hack it, I just want you to know what it is. Elevation changes, some minimal climbing, not all on trails. That kind of thing.”

  “I'm not scared off yet.”

  “We probably need to grab some supplies,” he said. “Food, drinks, that kind of thing.” He took his sunglasses off and suddenly looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure he wanted to tell me something.

  “What?” I said. “You look all weird now.”

  He frowned. “Thanks.”

  “Not weird, but you know what I mean.”

  A small smile formed on his lips. “Yeah, I actually do. Which is kind of cool.”

  I tried not to blush, but I knew what he meant, too. It was like we'd been friends for awhile, talking easily, teasing one another, comfortable with each other. Chemistry, maybe? I wasn't sure what the word was for it but there was definitely something there. I wasn't going to deny that I found him attractive. Sure, he was physically handsome – the hair, the eyes, the ruggedness. I found all of his physical attributes attractive but there was more. I liked him.

  I'd agreed to go flying with him because it was a great way to see the state I was visiting. But I wasn't going to lie to myself. I was liking him for other reasons, too.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Here's the deal. If we go into the backcountry, it takes awhile. Like it would take us most of the day to get to the spot I'm thinking of. There isn't enough time to get there and back before dark. Which would mean we'd have to camp overnight...”

  “I'm not allergic to camping,” I said. “That's why you got all
weird?”

  “I didn't get weird.”

  “Whatever you got.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. Because I don't want you to think this is some elaborate stunt to get you out in the wild and then put the moves on you.”

  “Put the moves on me?” I said, staring at him. “Did you really just say that? Put the moves on me?”

  His cheeks went pink. “I never claimed to be cool. But, look, I don't want you thinking I have some ulterior motive here. We'd have to camp. Overnight.” He nodded at the plane. “I've got sleeping bags and a tent and all that in the plane because I always have them with me. So we can totally do it.” He paused. “But I don't want you to feel like we have to and I don't want it to be strange or anything like that.”

  I watched the plane bob up and down in the water next to the dock. “You've done the hike before?”

  “About a dozen times,” he said. “It's fantastic. Trust me. It's not a thing tourists get to see.”

  “You go by yourself?”

  He nodded. “Yep. I tried to get my sister out here last week, but she's not much of a camper. She needs robes and hairdryers and room service. I love her, but she's like the anti-me.”

  I smiled and nodded. It sounded terrific. I had no doubt the backcountry was spectacular, given what we'd flown over. I thought about spending time alone with Evan – not just hiking but in a tent, too.

  Maybe this trip would be about more than seeing Alaska.

  Because I was starting to think I wanted to see more of Evan, too.

  “Let's do it,” I said. “Let's camp.”

  SEVEN

  “I think I lied,” I said. My thighs burned and my feet ached and I was breathing heavily when I finally caved and told him I wasn't the superior hiker I thought I was. “Maybe I wasn't ready for this hike.”

  Evan laughed and slowed his pace. “Let's take a break.”

  We'd been walking for three hours. He'd packed his camping gear into a larger backpack and given me a bigger pack so that I could carry my stuff and some of the extra gear. We locked up the plane and walked into town, where we'd bought food and drinks and a few other things. I'd offered to pay but he brushed my credit card aside. He filled our packs up with our purchases and we'd set off on foot right from town. It had been weird, walking through a tiny fishing village, veering off a sidewalk and then on to a dirt path that led up into the lush green hills that ringed the town.

  He walked a few more steps, stopping as we approached a clearing on the trail. He unstrapped his pack and set it on the ground, then came over and helped me take my pack off. I shrugged my arms out of it and tried to straighten my shoulders. The muscles in my neck were almost numb. I sat down on a flat rock next to his pack and loosened the laces on my hiking boots. There was a blister forming on my left heel, despite the fact that I'd worn thick, cushioned socks.

  Evan knelt down and unzipped one of the pockets on his pack. He pulled out two bottles of water and a package of cheese and crackers.

  “Eat and drink,” he said, handing them to me. “We're in no rush.”

  My fingers shook as I took the crackers and tore off the cellophane wrap. I shoved two of them in my mouth and then twisted the cap on the water bottle. I drank half of it in two swallows.

  “It's hard work,” Evan said, uncapping his own bottle and taking a drink. “Especially when you don't have a trail.”

  I reached for two more crackers. “I thought the climbing was harder,” I told him.

  “Yeah, I guess. We can slow down, though. I'm tired, too.”

  He wasn't saying it derisively. He wasn't mocking me. He saw that I wasn't fit enough to keep up at the level we were going and was offering me a graceful way out. I appreciated that.

  “Do you do this every place you fly to?” I asked after another long drink.

  “If I have the time, yes,” he said, stretching out his legs. “My job gets me to the places, I do my job and then I explore.” He smiled. “It's part of the reason I came up here. I knew I could find work and still have time for fun.”

  “Had you been here...to Alaska?” I asked, folding up the cellophane. “Before your divorce?”

  He shook his head. “No. I wanted to but couldn't ever get her to commit. Not her thing.” He shrugged. “So when I was free, I took off. Just left everything behind.”

  There was something in the way he said the word 'everything' that made me think he was talking about a lot of things and not just a job.

  “Did it end badly?” I asked. “Your divorce?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and offered me a sideways smile. “Don't they all?”

  I shrugged. “I've only ever been divorced once.”

  He picked up a small rock and bounced it in his hand. “I don't know if it was bad. I guess it could have been a lot worse. But I was just...done. I needed to step away and let it all go. That was it.”

  He was purposely being evasive. It was as closed off as he'd been with me and I didn't want to press him.

  “What about you?” he said, eyeing me. “What did you do when it ended?”

  I thought for a moment. “Pouted. Sulked. Felt sorry for myself.”

  “You didn't want it to end?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

  “Oh, no. I did. I needed it to end. I just didn't know what to do with myself. I'm still not sure I do, actually.”

  “Hence, the trip.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Hence the trip.”

  “Worse things, I guess.”

  I looked around the mountainside. “Far worse things that sitting halfway up some mountain in the middle of Alaska.”

  He chuckled. “Amen.” He finished his water. “You okay to keep going? Not much further and we can set up camp for the night.”

  I retied my hiking boot and stood. My legs were steadier. My hands weren't shaking. My thighs burned less. My feet still ached, but I could deal.

  “I'm okay,” I said. “Let's go.”

  We gathered up our stuff and started working our way up the mountain side. We walked in silence, which was good so I could conserve my energy. He glanced over his shoulder a couple of times, just to check on me. I gave him a thumbs up.

  An hour later, we were near the top of the mountain. The air felt thinner, lighter, the thin white clouds practically within reach.

  Evan turned around. “One more minute and this will hopefully have all been worth it to you.”

  I nodded my assent.

  He stopped when he got to a small ridge and put his hands on his hips. He didn't say anything, but watched me as I planted myself next to him.

  I took a deep breath and pulled off my sunglasses. As far as I could see was an open valley of forest and water. In the distance, two deer wandered toward a copse of trees, their noses close to the ground. A bald eagle soared over us, swooping into the valley, heading toward a small river that snaked toward a mountain range. A thin layer of clouds hung suspended in the air, like feathers from a down pillow.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  Evan laughed. “Yeah. Holy shit, right? I found this spot about a year ago. I came here for a few days, hoping to just wander around and explore. I found it on the second day and just parked myself here. Didn't see a soul the whole time. I haven't been back since. Looks exactly the same, though.”

  I couldn't tear my eyes away from the view. “I didn't know places like this existed. I mean, I guess I did but I never thought I'd be able to visit them.”

  “Alaska is like the ultimate nature documentary,” he said. He pointed off in the distance to the right side of the valley. “We can make camp down there. It's flat and there's a small opening in the trees.”

  I followed him down the hillside, my feet slipping a little as I navigated the steep, leaf-littered terrain. The ground was damp, the leaves shiny with either lingering dew or moisture from recent rains. I glanced up at the sky. The white clouds had thickened a little, the sun playing hide and seek. The temperature had cooled and
I welcomed the breeze on my sweaty, heated skin.

  We reached the valley floor and followed a narrow trail along the river to the first cluster of trees. We ducked into the woods and, two minutes later, found ourselves in a very small clearing under a canopy of leaves.

  Evan dropped his pack to the ground and fell with it on his back. “I'm dead.”

  I shrugged off my pack and laid down next to him. “I thought it was just me.”

  “I think I could sleep now.”

  “I could eat one of these trees, I'm so hungry.”

  He laughed and propped himself up on one elbow. “Don't do that. Lots of things you shouldn't eat around here.” He sat up. “But I'll get us set up so we can eat dinner.”

  “Can we order pizza out here?” I asked, staring up at the tree-shrouded sky.

  He dusted off his hands. “Don't I wish. Hot dogs, chips and apples for us,” he said, rattling off some of the food he'd picked up at the little store in town. “That work okay?”

  “I said I'd eat a tree, so yeah, that works great.”

  “Just checking.”

  Twenty minutes later, just as I was picking myself up off the ground, Evan had our tent up, our sleeping bags unrolled inside, and a fire started on the opposite side of the clearing. He'd gone about it all quietly and efficiently, completely at home in the wilderness. I'd lain there, watching him, exhaustion in competition with the guilt I felt for letting him do all the work. But he'd whistled as he'd set up the tent and gathered wood for the fire, his tune indicating he didn't seem to mind.

  “Why did you build the fire over here?” I asked, sitting up.

  “For cooking,” he said. “We don't want it too close to our tent.”

  I nodded. “Embers?” It probably wouldn't be a good idea to build a roaring fire next to a flammable nylon tent.

  “Yeah,” he responded. “But bears, too.”

  “Bears?” My voice squeaked.

  “We're sort of in the mountains of Alaska,” he said, grinning. “Kodiak bears live here. A subspecies of brown bear,” he added.

  “Are they...dangerous?”

  “They can be,” he said. He tossed another stick on to the fire, then used a longer branch to rearrange the burning logs.