Читать книгу Sweet Home Alaska - Beth Carpenter - Страница 14
ОглавлениеSOME OF SCOTT’S colleagues at DEMA called him Dr. Chill. The more chaotic his surroundings, the calmer he got. Three weeks ago, he’d performed a cesarean delivery in a tent during a tropical storm while the lights flickered and then went out, leaving him to finish the surgery by lantern. A month before that, he’d hiked seven miles over a mountain for a breech delivery. Neither of those circumstances had tested his ability to remain calm. But when Volta had walked into that room, his heart rate skyrocketed.
He’d known she lived in Alaska. In fact, Volta was the main reason he was here. A local health organization had commissioned help from DEMA to study the quality of prenatal care in the rural areas of the state and give recommendations on how it could be improved. Ordinarily, Scott chose assignments where he could work directly with the people who needed medical care, but he’d volunteered for this assessment project in Alaska because he wanted to see Volta one more time.
He’d tried to forget her. After all, he was the one who broke it off. Few marriages survived the sort of life he’d chosen, and with his background, he was a particularly bad risk. Just like his father, Scott was the sort of man who focused on a job and forgot to eat and sleep and spend time with his family. Volta deserved so much better than that.
Once he realized their relationship was beginning to feel serious, he’d pulled the plug, and he’d never seen Volta again.
Scott’s life had turned out exactly the way he’d planned. He’d been with DEMA for ten years now, one of only a handful of full-time doctors ready to go wherever and whenever he was needed. Most of their medical staff consisted of volunteers who took a week or two off from their regular practices to volunteer with DEMA, but Scott worked year-round delivering babies and performing surgeries. And yet, even after all this time, Volta still appeared in his dreams.
He smiled to himself. She’d never liked the name her electrician dad had given her, but it suited her, with her electric-blue eyes and high-wattage smile. Not to mention the way his skin used to tingle when she touched him.
He’d figured he would go to Alaska, get a good start on the assignment and then take a day or two off and find Volta. Once she looked him in the eye and told him she’d moved on and was happy, her memory would quit haunting him. At least, that was the plan.
But instead, she’d just walked into the room while he was in the middle of a delivery. In a tiny clinic in a tiny village in an enormous state. Volta. He followed her into the waiting room, quietly shutting the door behind him. She turned back to look at him, her bright blue eyes focused on his face. So many things he wanted to tell her. So many questions. What was she doing in emergency response instead of physical therapy? Did she ever think about their time together in Hawaii? Was she happy?
In fact, he didn’t ask any questions at all. Instead, he opened his arms. After only the slightest hesitation, she rushed into them. And suddenly it was years ago, he was holding Volta in his arms, and for a moment, all was right with the world.
* * *
VOLTA CLOSED HER EYES, her cheek nestling into that familiar hollow between his shoulder and his chest, just as though it hadn’t been years since she’d last held him. She breathed in the clean scent of citrus from his aftershave. It felt so good. But she couldn’t do this. Eleven years ago, he’d broken her heart. She’d worked hard to recover, and now she had her dream job and a wonderful daughter. Scott didn’t belong in her life.
She stepped away and looked up with what she hoped was a simple smile. “Scott. What in the world are you doing here?”
“I’m on assignment with DEMA. I’m studying prenatal care in rural Alaska, but when Lori went into labor, Daniel asked me to take over the delivery. What are you doing in Sparks?”
“Doing my job. I’m a flight paramedic for Puffin Medical Transport, based in Anchorage.”
“When did you go into emergency response? Last I knew, your plan was physical therapy.”
Volta shrugged. “Plans change.”
“You enjoy your job as a paramedic?”
“I really do.”
“I’m glad. So, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to for the past few years?”
“Oh, the usual. Work mostly. Nothing like what you’ve been doing with DEMA. I saw in the last newsletter that you were in the Caribbean during that tropical storm last month.”
“You follow DEMA?”
“Um, sure. They do good work.” She wasn’t going to admit that she was from time to time looking for news of him.
“You know, you used to talk about seeing the world, and your skills could be invaluable to DEMA. If you were interested—”
“No,” she said, too quickly. She smiled to cover her nervousness. “I’m settled here in Alaska. My family is here.”
“You’re married?”
“Not anymore.” At his questioning look, she added, “I’m a widow. How about you? Are you married?” she asked, trying to avoid that awkward conversation where people felt compelled to ask about the details of her husband’s death.
He shook his head. “Never in one place long enough.” He paused. “But that goes with the job.”
At least he’d been honest about that. An insecure part of her had always wondered if his explanation of how he couldn’t maintain a relationship with his job was just an excuse to brush her off. She’d met Scott when he was still a resident, working in a hospital in Hawaii. She was going to college then, studying kinesiology, with plans to become a physical therapist. They’d met, oddly enough, at the botanical gardens in downtown Honolulu. Oddly because neither of them was in the habit of taking off from their busy schedules for things like walking through gardens.
But Volta had hardly left her dorm room for three days, working on a research paper. She’d turned it in and decided to spend the afternoon outdoors among the tropical flowers. Scott was there, de-stressing after a rough day at the hospital. They’d fallen into conversation under a plumeria tree, which led to dinner, which led to more dates. They both knew it was only temporary. Volta was a sophomore, after all, and Scott would join DEMA as a traveling doctor once his residency was finished.
But Volta’s heart failed to get the message. She fell hard for Scott Willingham, and from the tender way he treated her, she thought he loved her, too. Despite knowing his plans, Volta came to believe that love would triumph, that somehow they would find a way to be together. She was wrong.
Toward the end of the semester, he’d called it quits. He said it wasn’t fair to lead her on, that he wasn’t the kind of man who could balance work and marriage, especially in his sort of career. Devastated, she’d limped through her finals and then dropped out of college and gone home. To Alaska. Where she belonged.
Where she’d never expected to run into Scott. “Is it everything you thought it would be? Working for DEMA, I mean?”
“Yes and no. I love being able to help the people who need me most, but sometimes it’s a finger in the dike. And I never stay anywhere long enough to get to know my patients. It can be lonely. But I feel like we do a lot of good, not only in emergency situations but in setting up programs for ongoing improvements in health care.”
“DEMA doesn’t usually work within the US, does it?”
“Not to give medical care, but I’m here as a consultant. Have you heard of Leo Travert?”
“The billionaire aviation guy in Oregon who died last year?”
“Yes. He got his start in Alaska, as a bush pilot.”
“I heard that somewhere. But what does that have to do with you?”
“Well, when Travert lived in rural Alaska, his wife died in childbirth, due to complications that might have been avoided if she’d had better access to prenatal care.”
“How sad.”
“Yes. But in his will, he left a great deal of money to start a foundation with a mission to improve prenatal care in rural Alaska.”
“That’s great news.” Anything they could do to make medical care more accessible was a step forward. In many of the villages, medical services consisted only of a volunteer health aide.
“A lot has changed in the years since Travert lost his wife, but the infant mortality rate in the bush is still twice that in the cities. The focus of my study is to learn about what care is available now, and how the Travert Foundation can help fill in the gaps. The chairman, Ransom Goodman, was a good friend of Travert’s. He hired DEMA because of our experience in dealing with hard-to-reach populations.”
“So you’re in Sparks to see how a village clinic works.”
“Yes. I’ve already learned a lot from Daniel and Libby about the setup here. I’ll need to get a feel for the facilities around the state before I can make specific recommendations, but I have some ideas.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I’m not sure how to incorporate volcano eruptions into my recommendations, though.”
“Some things you can’t anticipate. You just have to take them as they come.” Like the realization that the attraction she’d felt when she met Scott at the botanical gardens was still there, tugging on her heartstrings. But she could ignore it.
Scott shrugged. “You’re right. No use worrying about what can’t be changed. Let’s get this incubator going.”
Together they carried the incubator into the exam room and set it up, further crowding the small area. “I need to examine my patients,” Scott said. “Bridget, could you stay with me, please? The rest of you can wait in the other room.”
Daniel nodded and slipped through the door. Paul handed his son to Bridget and watched her carefully tuck the baby inside the incubator. It was only after Bridget had taken the other baby from Lori’s arms and snuggled her beside her brother that Paul kissed his wife and left, with Volta filing out behind him.
Paul crossed the waiting room to stand beside Daniel at the window. Volta followed. The landscape had transformed since she arrived. Outside, a fine gray powder had coated every surface, and more drifted from the sky in a parody of a snowstorm. Across the street, a woman with a bandanna tied around her face made her way home from the washateria, huddling over a basket of laundry in a futile attempt to keep the ashes out.
“It looks like another planet,” Paul commented.
A few minutes later, Scott joined them. “Everyone is doing fine. Paul, your wife would like your company. Bridget has volunteered to stay here with you for the time being and suggested the rest of us get some lunch.”
“In that case, I’ll head home and have lunch with my wife,” Daniel said. “Call me if you need me.”
“Wear a mask,” Volta suggested. “You don’t want to breathe that stuff.”
Daniel nodded and pulled on a surgical mask before he slipped outside and started up the street. Paul returned to his chair beside Lori’s bed, and Volta could hear them murmuring to each other.
Scott turned to Volta. “Are you ready? Libby said something about a special treat. I can’t remember what she called it.”
Volta chuckled. “Akutaq?”
“Right. What is it?”
“People sometimes call it Eskimo ice cream. It’s basically whipped fat—some use shortening but she uses caribou fat—sweetened and mixed with berries. She first got me to try it a couple of years ago.”
Scott’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Did you like it?”
Volta waggled her hand in a so-so gesture. “It’s not terrible. Very rich.”
“Is this Libby’s test to see if I’m open to new experiences?”
“Probably. She seems determined that anyone who spends time here needs to taste it. I think she figures if you won’t try her food, why should she trust your judgment?”
“She has a point. Sharing food is a bonding experience.”
“Yes.” She and Scott used to love trying out the different cuisines of the Hawaiian Islands. Scott had given her her first taste of poke, a raw diced fish she still craved from time to time. And then there was their favorite restaurant. “Remember that little noodle place over by the college?” As soon as she said it, she regretted bringing it up. The last thing she should do was talk about their history together.
But Scott smiled. “I’ve never found yakisoba as good anywhere else.”
Volta’s phone rang. She checked the screen. “It’s my mom. Why don’t you head on over and I’ll be there in a few minutes?”
“I’ll wait.”
Volta nodded and answered the phone. “Hi. I was just about to call you. You heard about the volcano?”
“Yes, they put out a bulletin. Where are you?”
“I’m in Sparks, and it looks like we’ll be here for the night at least, possibly more. Are you okay keeping Emma?”
“Of course. They’re not sure if they’ll have school tomorrow. It depends on how the ash falls over the next couple of hours. Anyway, Emma will be fine with us. We’re going to paint birdhouses this afternoon.”
“That sounds fun. Say, I ordered her birthday cake a month ago, but would you mind calling the bakery to verify?”
“All that sugar.” Volta could almost hear her mother shaking her head. “Are you sure you want to serve cake?”
Volta laughed. “Mom, it’s a birthday party. Absolutely, we want cake.” Volta was in middle school when her mother had decided to cut sugar out of their diet. In mutual rebellion, Volta, her brother and her dad used to sneak to the bakery during Mom’s tai chi class on Saturday mornings and indulge in the most sugar-laden treats they could find.
“I could make cookies for the party,” Mom offered.
Volta rolled her eyes. What her mom called cookies were more like organic hockey pucks. She couldn’t imagine any of the children at the party would eat them. On the other hand, the party was at a reindeer farm, and they might make a good substitute for alfalfa pellets. She’d have to ask her friend Marissa, who ran the farm, if Mom’s cookies would upset the reindeer’s digestion. “Sure, Mom, but we’ll have birthday cake, too. And you’ll be happy to know, we’re also having fruit and vegetable trays.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess. Here, your daughter wants to talk to you.”
“Mommy?”
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Grandma says you probably can’t come home tonight because of the volcano.”
“I’m afraid she’s right. We flew into a village, but we can’t fly back out until the ash is out of the air.”
“Why?” One of Emma’s favorite questions. Sometimes, Volta felt as though she’d earned an advanced degree just from looking up the answers for Emma.
But this one she knew. “Because volcanic ash is made up of tiny, tiny little rocks, and if the rocks get into the engines on the plane, they could make the engines stop running and then the plane couldn’t fly anymore.”
“Oh. Will you be back for my birthday?”
“I should be. It’s not until Saturday, and I imagine the volcano will have gone back to sleep by then, don’t you think?”
“Maybe somebody should sing it a lullaby.”
Volta laughed. “Or read it a bedtime story?”
“Yeah, like the one about the moon.”
“That’s a good one.”
“Everybody’s coming to my party. Madison wasn’t sure she could because she had a piano lesson, but her mom says she can skip it just this once because she wants to see the reindeer at the farm.”
“I’m glad she can make it.”
“Ryan’s so lucky he gets to live on the reindeer farm all the time. With horses.”
“You’re lucky, too. You get to live at our house, and sometimes at Grandma and Grandpa’s, and sometimes with Leith.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Uncle Leith said Sabrina wants to take me to that new movie. With the princesses.”
“That will be fun.”
“The bake sale at school is tomorrow.” A gust of wind rattled the window and sent ash swirling.
“I know,” Volta whispered, “but don’t tell Grandma because she’ll want to make cookies.”
“Grandma’s cookies are awful,” Emma whispered.
“Grandma says they might not have school tomorrow, so I’m not sure whether they’ll have the bake sale. I’ll call Sabrina and ask if she’ll make a batch of cookies. If school is open, she can drop them off and if not, she can freeze them until they reschedule.”
“Sabrina makes excellent cookies.”
“She does.” Volta looked over at Scott, still standing at the window. “I need to go. Be good for Grandma, okay?”
“Okay. I love you to infinity.”
Volta smiled. “I love you to infinity plus one. Bye, Emma.”
“Bye.”
Volta put the phone in the pocket of her flight suit and pulled a mask from the supply cabinet. “Are you ready to brave the ash?”
Scott turned toward her. “Sure. Everything okay at home?”
Volta nodded. “It’s all under control.”
“Who’s Emma?”
She felt an odd reluctance to share her personal life with Scott, although there was no reason for him not to know about Emma. Besides, Libby was sure to ask about her. “Emma is my daughter. She’s seven.”
“A daughter. Somehow I didn’t imagine you with a child.”
She wouldn’t have thought he’d imagined her at all. She’d always assumed once he broke up with her, he’d gone on single-mindedly with his life plan. Volta stuck her head into the exam room. “Dr. Willingham and I are going to Libby’s for lunch. Can we bring you something back?”
“A sandwich?” Paul requested.
“Sure. Lori, are you feeling up to eating yet? Maybe some soup?”
Lori dragged her eyes away from the baby snuggled up against her chest. “Okay.”
“Bridget?”
“I’ll wait until you get back and take a turn. Did I hear something about akutaq?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“Tell Libby to save me some.”
Volta grinned. “Okay. See you in a little while.”
She returned to the reception room, where Scott was staring out the window. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” He turned toward her. “And I’ve seen a lot.”
“I’ll bet you have. You were in the Philippines after that earthquake. Was it as bad as it looked in the photos?”
“It was. Conditions made it difficult to get clean water and supplies to the people who needed them. I lost some patients there.” He let out a breath. “I don’t like losing patients.”
“It never gets easier.”
“No, it doesn’t. But we didn’t lose anyone today.” He grinned. “Volcano or no, today is a good day.”
“Absolutely. Let’s go get some lunch.”
They both pulled on masks, and Scott followed Volta next door. They slipped inside the store and quickly shut the door to seal out the swirling ash, jangling a strip of sleigh bells.
The usually bustling building appeared to be deserted. They were wiping their feet on the rug when Libby appeared from the door leading to the mailboxes.
“Where is everyone?” Volta asked her.
“I sent them all home before the ash got here. Did Lori deliver?”
“A boy and a girl,” Volta reported. “Both healthy.”
“That’s wonderful. And how is Lori?” Libby looked at Scott.
He hesitated, probably weighing how much information he should be sharing, but he must have decided Libby counted as family. “Tired, but happy. She’s going to be fine.”
“That’s good news. You know, Dr. Willingham, it’s funny. You told me yesterday that you hadn’t planned to visit Sparks until next week.”
“That’s right. I finished with personal business more quickly than I expected, so I decided to get a head start on this assignment.”
“It’s no accident you were here when Lori needed you. I’m convinced there is an unseen hand that guides us to the places we need to be.” Libby included Volta in her smile. “And it brought you both here today. Even with the volcano.”
Tiny goose bumps rose on Volta’s arms. Unlike Libby, Volta was not the sort to go looking for signs and omens, but here she was, in a village in the Alaskan bush, in the same room as a man she used to love. Was it fate?
No. They’d burned their bridges long ago. Their lifestyles were never compatible, and now Volta was rooted here in Alaska, raising her daughter, which meant they were further apart than ever.
And yet being in the same room with Scott was dredging up memories. Memories of laughter and fun. Of swimming in the ocean and building castles on the beach. Of feeling his arms around her when he kissed her good-night under swaying palm trees.
“Volta, aren’t you hungry?” Libby was ladling something from the slow cooker she always had going beside the microwave.
Volta jumped. “I’m sorry, Libby. What’s in the pot today?”
“Salmon chowder. And those little crackers you like.”
No wonder everyone in Sparks loved Libby. Two months ago, when Volta was in town to help with an immunization drive, she’d mentioned in passing she liked oyster crackers. Libby never seemed to forget anything. “Chowder sounds fabulous, thank you. But let me take something for Paul and Lori first. He said he wanted a sandwich.” She crossed to the cold foods case.
Libby joined her and reached for a sandwich. “Paul will want ham and cheese, barbecue potato chips and baby carrots.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “The doctor seems to know what he’s doing.”
“Yeah, Scott’s great.”
“Scott?” Libby looked at her speculatively.
“Dr. Willingham,” Volta amended quickly. “I’ll take a bowl of chowder for Lori.” Volta ladled the soup into a paper bowl and snapped on the lid. “Please put them on the tab with mine.”
“Nobody’s paying today. We’re celebrating.” Libby looked toward Scott, who was pouring a cup of coffee. “So, you and the doctor—”
“I’d better take this to Lori before it gets cold. I’ll come back for mine in a little while. Thanks, Libby.” Volta grabbed the food and headed toward the door.
“Don’t forget your mask,” Scott called.
“Right.” Volta stopped to juggle the food items. Scott set down his coffee and came to hold them while she pulled up her mask. “Thanks.”
“Hurry back. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
That was exactly what Volta was afraid of.
