From Out Of The Blue

“A week or so.”

“If I’d been smarter, that’s all I’d have stayed.” Campy drained the last of her beer and, pushing to her feet, she dropped her cigarette into the bottle and tossed the hair out of her eyes. “Mitch means a lot to me ’n’ Wally. I sure hope the two of you can work things out.”

BY THE TIME Campy drove his pickup back to the airfield, Mitch was pacing around the plane amidst mechanical noises and cuss words from beneath the plane’s cowling, while Wally growled for various tools to be passed to him.

Campy’d been gone a long time. What the hell could the two of them have been talking about? They had nothing in common. Campy was a fortysomething professional bartender who hadn’t graduated high school, couldn’t spell and liked to smoke, drink and ride on Wally’s Harley. Her one ambition in life was to train circus ponies. What kind of conversation could she have possibly been having with a career captain in the United States Navy? And finally, here she was, driving up to the warming hut with Thor in the back, his front feet braced on the diamond-plate toolbox cover and wearing his sly, wolfish grin.

Campy jumped out of the cab and turned to see what Mitch was gesturing at. “Damn you, Thor! I swear, Mitch, he was standing on the porch when I left. He must’ve chased after the truck and jumped in.” She approached the plane and tossed her hair out of her eyes. “Relax, hon, everything’s cool at your place. She’s reading poetry on your porch. My advice? Grill her a thick bloody steak for supper and serve it to her with red wine and hot kisses.” She ducked her head under the cowling. “Hey, lover, I’m headin’ to town to do a load of laundry. Can you manage here without me?”

“I’ll do my best,” Wally grunted.

“Hang on,” Mitch said. “She told you she was staying for supper and she wanted a thick steak?”

“Don’t forget the red wine and hot kisses. She’s nice, Mitch. I like her. How ’bout you, Wally—what’s your preference tonight?”

“Beer and burgers,” came the gruff reply.

“I’m on it, sweetie. See you soon.”

“Wait a sec,” Mitch said. “Did you find out why she’s here?”

Campy took one last fierce drag on her cigarette, tossed it down and ground it out. “She’s here to see you, you imbecile. She’s been missing you. How long’s it been?”

“Almost five years without so much as a phone call or a letter. That’s why her surprise appearance is so strange.”

“Maybe not as strange as you think.” Campy gave him a long, calculating stare. “Make sure that red wine comes in a bottle with a cork.”

Wally peered out from under the cowling as she walked toward her rusted-out Subaru. “What’d I tell you,” he said. “Girl talk. They love that stuff. Better pick up that steak at Yudy’s. They have the best beef and he’ll cut it nice and thick for you.” He waited a few moments, then scowled. “Well, what the hell you stallin’ for? Haven’t you kept her waiting long enough?”

“I don’t believe that’s why she’s here. I think there’s something else going on.”

“So what if there is? You gonna pass up the chance to get cozy with her? Go fix her that steak like Campy said.”

“I spent all my cash on the fuel filter.”

“Ah, shit.” Wally dug in his wallet, peeled out two twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Mitch. “That’s the last of mine. Make it count. Women are scarce in Alaska and hot ones like that are even scarcer.”

YUDY’S GENERAL STORE carried everything from self-tapping sheet metal screws to wedding gowns, and had the best meat counter in the state. It also had a fairly good wine selection and a huge block of select sharp cheddar, the kind that crumbled when it was cut, and with what Mitch had left over he was able to buy half a pound along with some fancy crackers. Forty bucks didn’t stretch very far at Yudy’s, but the groceries were worth it and tonight he wasn’t about to serve up boxed macaroni and cheese with a side of canned beans and a bottle of beer, the mainstays of his usual diet. No, tonight called for a special meal, a properly seductive prelude for what was sure to come after…otherwise she wouldn’t have told Campy she was staying for supper and that she’d been missing him.

He was still kind of puzzled about the real reason she was here, but Wally was right. He’d be a fool to pass up this opportunity, and the prospect of spending another night with the sexiest pilot in the Navy was enough to send his heart rate right off the scale. It didn’t matter anymore that she hadn’t read his letter. The hell with it. Seize the moment and run with it.

By the time he got back to the cabin, he’d figured out just how the night should proceed. He’d light the grill first, because it took awhile for the charcoal to get just right, then he’d open the wine and get the cheese-and-cracker thing going while the meat marinaded and he fixed the vegetables. Yudy had prepped him on that. “You’ll wanna grill your veggies. Ladies like that kind of stuff. Cut ’em however you like. Me, I like my peppers in quarters, some like ’em in halves. Onions the same way. Eggplant, mushrooms, potatoes, tomatoes, whatever trips your trigger. Coat ’em with olive oil and a pinch of herbs and grill ’em.”

Well, scratch the eggplant and mushrooms, he hated the things, but he bought a few nice fat tomatoes and brightly colored bell peppers to supplement the vegetables he knew he already had, and he could make a salad, too, and then…?

Then they’d eat. And whatever happened after that was up to the gods and the mountain, because the mountain played a big role in his life here. He might have to fly out at the drop of a hat to pick up climbers who were calling it quits or were sick or injured. Those calls happened frequently this time of year and they certainly could use the business. But barring the climbers, who knows where the night might end? Maybe she wouldn’t want to go back to the Moosewood. Maybe she’d opt to stay.

Maybe? Of course she would. That’s why she was here, wasn’t it? She’d spend two weeks’ worth of fabulous nights with him before flying away again, back to her Navy career. What could be better than a short-term relationship with a gorgeous, sexy woman, no strings attached?

As he parked the truck, Thor jumped out of the back and Mitch heard her greeting the useless beast. He grabbed the bags of groceries and climbed the porch steps after the dog. Kate was sitting in the late afternoon sunshine, book of poetry lying open in her lap, and she smiled when she saw him. Right then and there he forgot all about how great a two-week-long, no-strings-attached affair would be because she looked like she belonged, and she looked beautiful.

“Hey,” he said, caught off balance by his own reaction.

“Hey, yourself. How’d it go at the airfield?”

“Great. Got the plane fixed. What about you?”

“I didn’t do a thing. I sat on this porch and read poetry and then I had a nap.”

“That’s what a vacation’s all about. You hungry?”

“Getting there.” She folded the book shut and stood. “What can I do to help?”

“You can supervise.”

She followed him into the kitchen and leaned over the counter while he unpacked the bags of groceries. “It’s so peaceful here. I can see why you love it.”

He uncorked the bottle of wine, rummaged in the cupboard for the two wineglasses left behind by the lonesome musher and poured. “Hope you like red. It goes well with meat, or so I’m told. I’m mostly a beer drinker myself, and beer goes with everything.” He handed her the glass and she smiled at him again. His heart did something that made him lose his breath and remember the night they’d had together, the night he’d spent years trying to forget.

“Thanks.” She took a sip and then watched while he organized the meal, or tried to. It was hard to do anything while she stood there. “Your friend Campy stopped by in your truck to deliver the dog, but Thor chased her down the road when she left. I don’t think she realized he was following her.”

“No, she didn’t.” He unwrapped the thick tenderloin, laid it on a platter and poured the marinade Yudy had recommended over it. “Thor jumped aboard, probably in that rough section a quarter mile from here, and rode to the airstrip in the back of the truck. But it was quiet there today, not much traffic. He didn’t get in any trouble or cause any crashes.”

“Has he caused crashes before?”

“Yup. Two.” Mitch piled all the vegetables into a colander and pumped water over them in the sink. That old-fashioned hand pump sure beat carrying water from the creek.

“What happened?”

“Both pilots tried to avoid him and went off the airstrip. One hit a bunch of willows, not much damage, just a few scratches, but the other bent a prop and we had to replace it. Wally swore he’d shoot the dog if he ever showed up at the airstrip again, but that was before Campy had the run-in with that brown bear and Thor saved her ass. Big vet bill, he was all torn up, but Campy told Wally that dog belonged here and if he shot the dog, she’d shoot him.”

“This sounds like a happening place,” Kate remarked with a smile.

“You betcha. Never a dull moment out here in the bush.” He took a knife out of the block, laid the cutting board on the counter and began slicing up the vegetables. “You like yellow and green bell peppers, scallions, potatoes, tomatoes and carrots?”

“I love any and all vegetables. Shouldn’t you start the grill?”

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that part. Here, you slice while I get that thing fired up.”

“Mitch?” He glanced over his shoulder and the way she was looking at him made his heart do that weird somersault thing again and he could hardly catch his breath. Damn, was he having some kind of coronary? “Thanks for asking me to supper,” she said. “And I really am sorry I never read your letter.”

KATE WAS SORRY in so very many ways that her feelings of remorse nearly overwhelmed her. As she watched Mitch through the cabin door while he got the grill started, then watched him laying cheese and crackers onto a chipped china plate with little roses along its border, she knew that she’d made a terrible mistake in not reading that letter he’d sent. She’d made a terrible mistake in not telling him about Hayden the moment she’d found out herself. How was she going to right these wrongs without making them worse? What would be his reaction when he found out that he’d had a son for the past four years? How could she possibly bring the subject up in a calm and logical way?

Right after Campy had left that afternoon, she’d called the Moosewood on Mitch’s satellite phone. “I’m out at Mitch’s place and he’s fixing a plane so I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” she told Rosa. “How’s Hayden?”

“Oh, he’s fine, señora. The owner of this nice place took us snipe hunting today.”

“Snipe hunting? What’s a snipe?”