“You’re a real trouper.” He squeezed her shoulder and went toward the tent to help Augusta.
If he only knew it was all a facade. The real Haley was a quivering mass of jelly behind the cheerful pretense.
Where would that stupid dog have dropped his toy? Tank kicked through spruce needles and soft dirt in pursuit of the elusive hot-dog squeaky toy. Maybe it would be a blessing not to find it. The pooch had annoyed them all with the squeaks. Only the thought of Haley’s disappointed face drove him on. She’d been through enough. No wonder she was so attached to the dog.
He caught a glimpse of red and stooped to grab the toy. As he turned to head back to camp, he stumbled over something in the dirt. He kicked the spruce needles out of the way to see what it was. A black pouch with a drawstring. He picked it up and opened it. A camera lens nestled inside the soft leather. It had to be Haley’s, but she thought nothing had been taken. This ought to cheer her up.
Whistling, he headed back to the river. The sound of the water rushing over rocks and tree stumps nearly drowned out the voices of the crew, but he followed the faint sound and found Kipp and his group awaiting the plane.
“You found it!” Haley’s smile broke out in full force. Oscar began to bark and ran to jump on Tank’s leg.
“Sure did.” He dropped the toy to the dog. “This yours?” He held out the lens and pouch.
Her eyes widened, and she reached out to take it. “It looks like one of my zoom lenses. Where did you find it?”
“Near Oscar’s toy. I didn’t remember you going out where I found it, though. I think our intruder must have taken it, then dropped it.”
“Why would he drop it? It cost over a thousand dollars.” Haley unzipped her backpack and rummaged through it. “Yes, it’s mine. I thought I’d accounted for everything. I bet I missed checking the small outside pouch. This isn’t one I use often.”
“Maybe he didn’t know he dropped it,” Denny said.
“And it was dark, so he might have had trouble finding it even if he did know,” Kipp said. “But all’s well that ends well. At least Haley has it back.” He shaded his eyes with his hand. “Looks like our plane is coming.”
“I have you to thank that we don’t have to hike out,” Erika told Haley. “I was so not looking forward to a two-hour hike.”
Tank suppressed a grin. Did the woman think Haley would want to damage her prosthesis just to get out of a hike? His gaze caught Haley’s, and he saw the same amusement in her eyes. He winked, and she looked away. Darn, she was a hard woman to get close to. The thought took him aback. He didn’t want to get close to her.
Stalwart, Alaska, looked like a rough-and-tumble town right out of the gold-rush days. Wooden storefronts in need of paint lined a rough, muddy track they called Frontier Street. It looked the same as it had twenty years ago. Haley saw familiar businesses, and even the hotel was still the same faded color.
The pickup truck trying to jolt the stuffing out of her was driven by a congenial Native Tank called Sam. She and Augusta were squashed on the bench seat while the rest of the group rode in the back of the vehicle, which sported more rust than paint.
“Here we be.” Sam threw on the brakes. The truck slid to a halt in the mud outside the hotel.
Augusta opened the door and climbed out. She turned to help Haley climb down, but Tank hopped over the side of the truck bed and held out his hand. “Why don’t I carry you? It will be hard to walk on crutches in this mud.”
“I can manage,” Haley said. She planted her crutches and hopped down. Tank frowned but didn’t protest. She hobbled past the door, and he shut it behind her. She wanted to dance with joy at the open sky above her. No trees. And houses and stores, even if they were mostly ramshackle shops. She was actually back in civilization of a sort.
“Thanks,” Tank told Sam. While the rest of the group tossed the belongings out of the truck, he moved alongside Haley as she laboriously made her way toward the sidewalk.
She thought she was going to make it with no mishap, but five feet from the walk, her right crutch sank unexpectedly deep in the mud, and she lost her balance. Tank reached out to grab her hand, but his right foot skidded, and he began to slide. He barreled into her, and they both went down in a tangle of limbs. She sat down in the mud with her foot straight out in front of her. The cold mud seeped through her jeans and sucked at her hands. It was like being encased in cold plaster.
She looked down at the black goo that covered her. This was all Tank’s fault. She wanted to throw something at him. Before she knew what she was doing, she scooped up a handful of mud. Then it was on his face. She couldn’t believe she’d done it, but the smear of black down his cheek was proof.
He staggered to his feet. She knew she should apologize, but the words lodged behind her teeth, then her nervous giggles erupted. He wasn’t laughing. He wiped his face, but the mud on his hand just deposited more goo on his cheek.
“Haley Walsh, I’m ashamed of you. It was an accident,” her grandmother said.
Haley barely noticed Augusta as Tank’s grim face changed to a grin. He loomed over her. “You want a fight?” He smeared mud on her face.
She gasped at the touch of the cold, clammy goop. Her hand came up and touched the wet smear on her cheek. Grabbing up another handful of mud, she flung it at him, and it plopped onto his left cheek. It clung for a moment, then dribbled down onto his shirt. She laughed, challenging him with her gaze to continue the battle.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened, narrowing his eyes. He scooped another handful and raised his hand to throw it.
“Children, children, that’s enough.” Augusta stepped carefully through the mud and grabbed Tank’s arm.
He looked at the mud in his hand, then dropped it like it was moose dung. A wave of red ran up his neck, and his gaze went past her. Haley couldn’t look at him either. What were they thinking? They’d almost been flirting with one another, right in front of everyone. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. The faster she could get out of this mudhole of a town, the better.
Ten
Tank left a trail of hardened mud on the sidewalk as he jogged down to see Chet, still a little chagrined over the childishness of his mudslinging. At the same time, he had to admit he wasn’t wholly embarrassed. Haley had shown a lot of spunk through circumstances that would have angered and humiliated some women. He liked that about her. In spite of her city ways, she had guts.
Tank’s attention turned to more pressing matters as he neared the jail. The door to Chet’s office stood open, and a line of people stretched out the door all the way to the window near the end of the wooden building. Loud, angry voices made Tank proceed cautiously. Alaska was filled with strong-willed people who had no hesitation in making their wishes known, and even in a small town like Stalwart, politics could get heated—and physical.
He stepped past the men into Chet’s office and found the trooper standing by his desk. “What’s going on, Chet?”
“Your bear just ransacked a fishing camp out near Glenn River. Jed Hoose is going to lose a leg. I told you not to turn that bear loose. You should have sold him to a zoo or something!”
“Calm down, Chet. There’s no telling which bear it was.”
The trooper dropped into his chair. “If Jed dies, his blood will be on your head, Tank.”
Tank laid a hand on Chet’s shoulder. “Slow down and tell me what happened. Jed is a friend of mine.” Jed Hoose was one of the first people to welcome Tank to the area when he moved here, and the two of them used to play cards over the long, dark nights before Tank married Leigh.
“A bear attacked last night. Knocked over the tent while he was cooking supper, mauled Jed, and hauled away his food. One of the other fishermen got back in time to drive the bear off before it came back for Jed.” Chet nodded toward the line outside. “They’re demanding action. Your bear has to go, Tank. I’m sorry. I should have done this sooner.” His voice lowered.
“How
do you know it’s Miki? Did Jed say so?” If Jed said it, Tank would believe it.
“He’s too out of it to say. But the bear tracks indicated a missing toe.”
Tank tensed. “How do they know the tracks were of the bear that did the mauling? Miki could have been nosing around and had nothing to do with the attack.” He was beginning to think his hope was futile.
“His prints were found at the site, just like where Doc’s body was found. You just don’t want to face the truth, Tank.”
Tank took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. “Maybe I don’t. Did the fisherman who drove off the bear give a description?”
“I’m going to go talk to him now. I’ll let you know what he said.” Chet rose and grabbed his hat from a hook on the wall.
Tank followed him out the door. “Is Jed going to make it?”
Chet nodded. “Not being able to get out in the bush and go fishing is going to kill him.”
“He can still go,” Tank said, thinking of Haley’s spunk.
“Be pretty hard on crutches to hike the rough ground.”
“I know someone with a prosthesis who does pretty well hiking.”
Chet raised his eyebrows. “You might get him to talk to Jed when he is well enough to talk.”
“It’s a her. And I’ll do that.” Maybe Jed would be ready to talk in a few days. Tank winced inwardly. Losing a limb would be hard to take.
Chet nodded. “There’s Loch Lehman now. He’s the one who drove off the bear.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
“Not a problem. Sorry if I was a little hard on you. It’s been a rough day.”
Tank fell into step beside Chet. “Any word from Marley?”
Chet shook his head and stopped to gawk at the tourists flocking into the Moose Nuggets shop. “Would you look at that! When Anna said people would buy jewelry and stuff made from lacquered moose droppings, I thought she was nuts.”
Tank glanced through the window and back toward Chet. Was he trying to change the subject on purpose? He had to feel caught in the middle between his daughter and Tank. “About Marley,” he began.
Chet took off again and intercepted Loch Lehman. A bony man in his fifties, Loch was Ichabod Crane in jeans and suspenders. He rarely smiled, probably inhibited by his teeth, blackened by years of snuff use.
“I heard you were the hero today, Loch,” Tank said.
Loch shrugged. “He would have done the same for me.”
“Did you get a good look at the bear?” Chet asked.
“Sure. I was as close as I ever want to get. Big sucker. Old, too, with half his teeth missing. And gaunt. I’d guess he has trouble hunting so he takes to easier prey.”
Tank closed his eyes briefly. Thank God it wasn’t Miki. He looked at Loch. “You ever seen this bear before? Did you notice his toes?”
“I can’t say I was paying attention to his toes.” Loch spit a wad of tobacco on the ground.
“There were tracks found of a bear with a toe missing. We thought it was Miki,” Chet said.
Loch shrugged. “I saw Miki earlier in the day. I shooed him off, and he went without complaint.”
“Sounds like Miki is off the hook. This time.” Chet eyed Tank. “We’re starting to get more and more complaints about Miki though, Tank. Nosing through gardens, hitting the trash cans. I think I’m going to have to do something about him soon. Maybe take him deeper into the bush.”
“I think you’re right.” Tank would do whatever it took to protect the bear, even if it meant having him moved far away. A hollow space developed between his shoulder blades. Lately, it seemed like he was in danger of losing everything he loved.
“I’m exhausted.” Augusta hung up the last of their clothes and shut the closet. “I’ll be able to get some writing done tomorrow.”
Haley grimaced. The bedspread had been washed so many times, the pattern was no longer visible. The threadbare carpet was the shade of vomit, and just looking at it made her feel queasy. The bathroom had pink tile from the fifties, and the enamel was chipped in the tub. At least it was clean. The only dirt she’d seen was the mud from her body swirling down the drain.
“We need to get you some real crutches,” Augusta said, watching her make her way across the room with the makeshift set Tank had made her. “Those don’t have rubber tips and don’t look very stable.”
“I’m hoping to get my leg pretty quickly. I’ll call Savannah now.” She didn’t have to look up her friend’s number. She and Savannah Phillips had become friends when Haley flew to Savannah to photograph a beauty pageant. Savannah was investigating pageant fraud at the time, and they’d immediately hit it off. They talked at least once a week.
The phone rang three times; then Savannah’s cheery voice answered. “Savannah Phillips.”
“Savannah, it’s me.”
“Oh my stars! I thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth for all eternity.” Savannah’s southern accent thickened with her excitement.
“I’m in Stalwart, Alaska. Can you stand it? Where are you? At the park?” Haley could see her in her mind’s eye, one leg curled up under her, sitting on a park bench, slurping a Coke from McDonald’s as if it were the last one this side of heaven, all while twisting a strand of her sun-streaked brown hair.
“How’d you guess?” Savannah slurped into the phone, then giggled. “How’s Oscar? Duke says hey.”
“Give Duke a bone for me.” Oscar and Savannah’s golden retriever were best friends.
“Honey, I thought you’d be lost to me for the summer. I’ve been reduced to reading the old cards you sent me and laughing at them. How are you holding up in the wilds?”
“I was doing okay until someone stole my leg.” She grinned at the explosion she knew was coming.
“Stole your leg? Lord have mercy, child! You’re legless? How are you getting around?”
“On crutches made from tree limbs. Do you still have my old prosthesis? The one with the Velcro?”
“Of course. It’s in my closet.”
“Can you send it to me?”
“Shoot, honey child, I’ll fly it to you if you need me to.”
Though the thought of seeing her friend was tempting, Haley didn’t want to subject her to that long flight. “I’ll send you a check for postage.”
“You will not! Vicky raised me better than that. I’ll overnight it.”
“That will cost the earth,” Haley protested.
“No, it won’t. Vicky is paying. Now give me the address.”
Haley could hear her rummaging, no doubt for the Big Star notebook she was never without. “Ready?” When Savannah had her notebook ready, Haley rattled off the address on the hotel notepaper. “You’re a doll, Savannah.” She hung up after promising to call when the prosthesis arrived. “Savannah is overnighting it,” she told Augusta.
“I knew she’d come through.” Augusta stood. “I’m hungry,” she announced. “Feed me, or I may turn into a grumpy old woman.”
“We can’t have that.” Haley ran a lip gloss over her mouth. For the first time in days, she felt like herself—Haley Walsh, confident, sophisticated. Her gaze fell to the tied-up pant leg of her jeans. Almost herself. Not having her prosthesis was disconcerting.
Augusta was peering out the window. “There’s a café beside the hotel your mother used to talk about. Hazel’s. Let’s eat there.”
“I remember that place. Would you carry my backpack? I might want to change lenses.” Propping herself on the crutches, Haley got herself balanced, then followed her grandmother out the door. They’d asked for and received a first-floor room near the lobby, a bonus, because they’d been told most of the rooms were taken by the search-and-rescue workers in town for a training session with their dogs. She’d stopped to admire a few dogs on her way to the room. She made her slow and laborious way down the tiled hall, no luxury like carpeted hallways in this motel.
Out of breath by the time they reached the walk in front of the hotel, she paused to res
t. Glancing around, she saw someone watching her with interest. When he saw his perusal had attracted her attention, he turned away and began to study the display in a shop window. Her face burned. She should be used to stares and jeers, but she’d had her prosthesis so long, she’d forgotten how awkward it felt to have people study her when they thought she wasn’t looking.
Augusta led the way down the street to the café. The Z in the neon sign over the door was out. Augusta pushed the door open and held it for Haley, causing a brass bell to jingle. The threshold was a step up, and the door was a little narrow to negotiate easily with crutches, but Haley managed to get inside. The aroma of liver and onions struck her in the face, and she wrinkled her nose. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She had in mind a nice, juicy steak with steamed vegetables and a salad. Somehow, she didn’t think this café could fulfill that fantasy. She vaguely remembered having ice cream sundaes here as a child.
Her stomach rumbled, and she decided she’d make do. Her arms ached from maneuvering the crutches, and she didn’t think she could walk up and down the streets looking for something more palatable. The sign told them to seat themselves. She nodded toward the only free table, one for two in the back corner. Augusta nodded and murmured an apology as she asked people to step out of the way for Haley. At the stares, Haley wanted to hurry back to her room, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on to the table. Some of the faces looked familiar, but no names came to mind.
Out of breath again, she slid into the seat with her back to the rest of the room. The old Formica table was speckled gray and white with chrome trim. She picked up the menu and had started to open it when their waitress came to greet them.
About fifty, the woman had salt-and-pepper hair tied back with a red ribbon like a teenager. Her black slacks had flour handprints on the thighs, and she wore a white top with red hearts on it. A square white badge with the name MARGE in bold black letters was pinned near her left shoulder. She had a large frame that spoke of hard work.