Alaskan Hero

Although if things didn’t change with Dolce soon, she might be living in this small room once again. Moving back home wasn’t exactly an ideal scenario, but where else could she go?

Anya wasn’t about to admit that the outreach project was designed mainly to help the widows of Aurora. A technicality, in her opinion. Her mother might as well have been a widow. Actually, though Anya hated to admit it, she could already be a widow.

She hadn’t considered the idea before, even when she’d written her mother’s name and address on the list. But there was no guarantee her father was still alive, wherever he was. Anya blinked and waited for a wave of grief to wash over her at the prospect. The wave never came. Instead she felt a familiar, icy numbness in her chest.

“I don’t need any help from your church, Anya. I can take care of my own roof.” Her mother turned back toward the sewing machine, her wrist flicking angrily while she wound the bobbin.

“Mom, let them come help. They want to do this.”

“Then what? What happens after they deice my roof? They’ll expect me to show up at church, that’s what.”

“No, they won’t.” And even if they did, would that really be so bad? “It’s not like that, Mom. No one will expect anything of you in return. They’re just nice people who want to help.”

Her back may have been turned, but Anya could sense her mother’s skeptical eye roll, could feel the bitterness behind it.

Anya rested a hand on her shoulder. “I want to help. Please let me take care of this for you.”

Her mother stiffened, saying nothing, and the sewing machine purred to life once again.

Anya would have preferred a spoken agreement, but she figured this was as close as she was going to get. Before her mother had a change of heart, Anya gave her shoulder a final pat, then slipped from her old bedroom and back out into the snow.

* * *

“Where are we going again?” Anya asked as she climbed onto the passenger seat of Brock’s truck.

“Nice try.” He cast her a quick glance as she got settled. Then he closed the passenger door and jogged through the snow to the driver’s side, pausing on the way to check on Sherlock and Aspen situated in their crates in the back.

“We’re going on a field trip,” he said again as he settled himself beside her and cranked the ignition to life.