Northern Encounter

2

THERE WAS NOTHING sweeter than the feel of the wind and snow blowing as they moved in sync with Kobuk down the street. Clint and Dalton kept pace with the sled which was loaded with the strapped down compressor in the cargo area. Once they’d loaded up the sled, Bull had headed over to Donna’s Engine and Motor Repair to check on a snowmobile engine. Clive, who lived just at the other end of Main Street, could help with the unloading.

“You okay?” Dalton asked.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seemed a little thrown off balance back there when you saw Ms. Bellingham. Guess she wasn’t exactly what you were expecting?” Dalton grinned.

To put it lightly—hell, no, she wasn’t what he expected. “Nope. I was thinking she was a middle-aged guy but it doesn’t really matter. No worries.” Clint was a professional. Just because Tessa Bellingham possessed captivating green eyes and a full lower lip didn’t change anything. She was a client. Plain and simple.

Dalton nodded and shot Clint an unconvinced look. Clint’s father might’ve made the mistake of falling for a fair-skinned blonde but not Clint. He’d seen the heartbreak that had resulted. Hell, he’d lived the heartbreak. Thanks, but no thanks.

Dinky Monroe, who could’ve stepped straight out of a photo from the 1800s when prospectors feverishly sought that vein of Alaska gold that would make them rich, waved from the barber chair in the front window of Curl’s Taxidermy/Barber Shop/Beauty Salon and Mortuary. Clint offered a two-fingered salute in return.

Since it was off-season for hunters and there was little in the way of taxidermy work, and no one had died lately, Curl had plenty of time for shaves and hair cuts. A mortician before he’d made the move to Good Riddance, he also served as the town’s undertaker. But considering how few people lived in the area, relatively few died. Upon the occasional death, Curl set up folding chairs in a back room if a viewing was requested.

“Did you hear Dinky’s got a new wife coming in next week?” Dalton said.

Clint laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. My grandmother mentioned it at dinner the other night.” Internet brides had replaced the mail-order brides from times past.

“Your grandmother’s better than a newspaper, isn’t she?”

Clint grinned. His grandmother ran their family and pretty much the village. “My grandmother knows what’s going on, that’s for sure.” He knew without a doubt that she’d hear through the grapevine about Tessa Bellingham. Then he’d be in for one of their “talks.” The “talks” had started when Clint was seven and had been an ongoing part of his relationship with his grandmother.

The wind had picked up and the snow blew harder. Clint had to really hold Kobuk in check. As far as the dog was concerned, the cold and snow was a perk of the job.

At the other end of Main Street, they hooked a right and made quick work of delivering Clive’s generator.

“Okay, let’s get back and grab a bite to eat before it gets nasty,” Dalton said. “We’ll probably have to get a late start tomorrow depending on what the storm does.”

“No problem. We’ll work around it.” As far as Clint was concerned, the less time he spent in an isolated cabin with his client, the better.

WHILE MERRILEE FIELDED A phone call, Tessa crossed to the pot-bellied stove and sipped at the warm tea. It felt good going down.

She studied the big open room. It was certainly different from the southwestern style she was used to. Here, the wood walls, ceiling and scarred but highly polished floor set the tone. Two windows overlooked the airstrip out back while another two windows showcased the street beyond. Flowered flannel curtains trimmed in off-white lace hung at the windows—they matched Merrilee’s shirt, she realized.

In the back right corner, a desk held paperwork, the phone, and a radio—apparently command central for Good Riddance airstrip. A large calendar, with notations in colored markers, filled the wall-space to the right of the desk.

The opposite corner held a television with two arm chairs and a loveseat scattered around a coffee table. It reminded Tessa of the cozy “reading centers” found in upscale bookstores across the country.

A “Welcome to Good Riddance, AK” sign hung over both the front and back doors. Two padded rocking chairs flanked the pot-bellied stove and another rocker sat before a checker/chess table. From the left front corner, a staircase led to the second floor where she was sure the bedrooms were. Three bistro tables draped in tablecloths that matched the curtains occupied the right corner.

And there were framed photographs—lots and lots of them covering the walls, some in color, some in black and white. Large round braided rugs anchored and defined each section of the room in lieu of walls. Between the bistro tables and the potbellied stove stood a door with “Welcome to Gus’s” painted on it. Tessa could hear the muted sound of music, conversation and laughter on the other side.

Her flight out of Tucson had been early this morning … and the layover at LAX had been long. Having gotten her bearings in the room, she sank into the rocker next to the stove’s warmth. Her initial excitement at having arrived gave way to a tugging lethargy.

Merrilee ended her call. “Sorry about that. Would you rather eat first or shower first? The bath’s upstairs and the food’s next door.” The older woman’s smile was infectious.

“A shower would be wonderful, especially since after tomorrow they’ll be in short supply for a few days.”

“I hear you. A shower it is, then. Right this way.”

Tessa pushed out of the rocking chair and followed Merrilee up the wooden stairs to the second floor. Once again, as with the downstairs, the walls and ceilings were all a light, varnished wood. There was something very soothing about all of the wood.

Merrilee ushered her into a room which she instantly fell in love with. A quilt in shades of lavenders, pinks, and yellows covered a queen-size bed. The simple nightstand and dresser were topped with crocheted doilies. Lace-trimmed flannel curtains hung at the windows. A faint aroma of lavender scent ed the air.

Tessa smoothed her fingers over the obviously hand-made quilt, memories surfacing. “I love it. It’s warm and cozy without being fussy.” It reminded her of the bedroom her parents had shared.

“Thank you. That’s what I was aiming for.” Merrilee looked about her in obvious satisfaction. “It just got an overhaul. The roof caved in last month and I figured while we were doing repairs we’d do a little mini-makeover.”

“Well, it’s simply lovely. I’ll enjoy staying here tonight.”

Merrilee beamed. “Wonderful. Now, the bathroom is communal and it’s at the end of the hall.”

“Communal works, especially considering there won’t be any running water tomorrow night.” Tessa laughed. “I’ve had quite some experiences in my travels.”

Merrilee peered at her from perfectly arched brows. “How’d you get started in this business? It’s sort of an unusual occupation.”

Tessa knew she had one of the coolest jobs ever filming and putting together ambient videos. Granted she wasn’t performing brain surgery but she’d like to think that what she did made a positive difference in people’s lives. Whether it was a video of sunrises over beaches or waterfalls from around the world, she hoped it brought the viewer a feeling of calm and peace and the opportunity to see something they might not otherwise see or experience.

“It was just a lucky break. I answered an internet ad and found out I liked all the travel and I was good at it.” Tessa smiled and shrugged. “The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Do you ever get tired of the travel?” Merrilee perched on the edge of a small armchair upholstered in a sunny yellow fabric with pink accent piping.

Tessa settled on the bed, feeling at ease with this woman she’d just met. Perhaps it was because the room had evoked childhood memories or it may have just been that Merrilee reminded Tessa of her mother. Whatever it was, she felt a connection with this woman she experienced with few others.

“Sometimes—” she paused “—even though I have a place in Tucson, it’s never really felt like home. Do you know what I mean?” She probably just sounded like a nut but there was a flicker of recognition and acknowledgment in the other woman’s eyes.

“Honey, I grew up in the south and I obviously still have a lot of the south in me, but I never really felt like I belonged there. When I landed here in my motor home, I just knew it was the oddest thing—this was it. This was home.” Her smile was full of reminiscence and affection. “Although there wasn’t jack all here at the time.”

Tessa found herself nodding in acknowledgement. “That’s it exactly. I almost feel as if I’m on a quest.” She smiled past the tug of melancholy. “I figure with all of this travel, sooner or later I’ll find where I belong. And if not, well, I’ll just continue to be a child of the planet, huh?”

Tessa could tell the other woman totally got her.

“Are your folks in Tucson?”

“No. They died when I was eight and I moved to Tucson to live with my mom’s aunt and uncle.” She’d learned over the years that brevity worked best when talking about her parents, because the sad tale always made other people uncomfortable. “It was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry. Losing parents is never easy. I was fifty when I lost mine and it still was difficult.”

For some crazy reason, Tessa almost choked up. She simply nodded.

“Is there a boyfriend waiting back in Tucson?” Merrilee asked, obviously respecting her wishes not to discuss her parents’ deaths.

“No. Most of them can’t handle the travel and it’s just easier to keep strong attachments out of relationships.” It had hurt too much when she’d lost her parents and then Aunt Lucy and Uncle Ted had died within months of each other. She never wanted to experience that depth of loss again. Ever. She didn’t even allow herself to become attached to a pet.

Merrilee simply nodded but her gaze was shrewd and understanding. Tessa looked away, feeling almost embarrassed by how much of herself she’d just revealed. “I think I’m ready for that shower,” she said, bringing the conversation back to less personal issues. Not that showering wasn’t personal, but it certainly wasn’t soul revealing.