Chapter 5
“Hey, where’s your passengers?”
Spence looked at Jake, the teenager who worked part-time maintaining the docking facilities. “They canceled, last minute.”
Jake frowned. “Oh. There was someone down looking at the plane, I thought it was your guy. Must have just been a tourist.”
“’Tis the season,’” Spence said. He glanced at Hetty, who wasn’t looking at either of them. “We’re going to make the trip anyway, to drop off the new season supplies, since I’ve already got them loaded up. Thanks again for the help with that, by the way.”
The boy grinned. “Thanks for the freebie at The Cove. It’ll smooth things over with my girl.”
Spence grinned. “Bring her some flowers, too. My mom said they just got a delivery in at the market in town.”
“Good idea,” Jake said.
The kid walked away, whistling happily. Spence smiled to himself. He wasn’t going to use that gift certificate a client had tipped him with anyway, so it might as well go to a good cause, smoothing over a tiff between young lovers.
“You gave him that certificate for a free dinner and dessert Mrs. Barnes gave you?”
He turned to find Hetty looking at him quizzically. He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to use it. Somebody might as well.”
“Why not?”
“Exactly.”
She blinked, figured it out and grimaced at him. “I meant why weren’t you going to use it?”
He shrugged. “I just wasn’t.”
He didn’t really want to discuss his love life—or decided lack thereof lately—with Hetty of all people.
It had become almost a chore to keep up the lighthearted, flirty exterior in front of her.
But he felt like he had to. It was a barrier of sorts between them and he needed it to be there.
Why, he didn’t want to delve into, now or ever.
“Nice of you, then,” she said.
“It happens, despite what you think,” he said and immediately regretted the jab.
“I’ve never disputed that you can be a nice guy, when you want to be. When you’re not being—”
She cut herself off so sharply he was sure he knew what she’d been about to say. She had said it, more than once. When you’re not being a shameless flirt.
She’d been saying it since high school, when that flirting and his looks had been all it had taken to charm almost anyone on campus. Anyone female, that is. Well, except Hetty, who had apparently been immune then and clearly still was.
It had taken his prowess on a baseball diamond or his skill on skates and with a hockey stick to impress the guys.
And his willingness to take a hit, if it would help the team.
That was something he’d learned early on.
Because his family—which to him meant all the Coltons, not just his own parents and sister, but Uncle Will and Aunt Sasha and his four cousins, too—was a team.
A team with an unbreakable bond, who all pulled together under any circumstances.
Because they’d paid the highest price once, for not doing just that.
And the aunt he’d never known, Caroline, had paid with her life for the lack of that bond back then.
Believe.
It was the Colton family motto now. If you had a problem or were in trouble, the one thing you could be sure of was that the family would believe you. Because, long ago, they hadn’t.
Spence gave a sharp shake of his head, wondering why his mind was wandering off like that. Maybe to avoid having to deal with Hetty. If so, it had worked, because she’d walked away to do her safety check before they took off.
He checked his backpack of what he considered standard gear—never mind that Hetty teased him mercilessly about the size of it—one final time.
His Kimber Mountain Ascent was strapped to one side.
He knew some folks didn’t agree with his decision to carry the very lightweight rifle, which was under five pounds without any added gear like his scope.
And if he was out here to hunt big game, he’d agree and carry something heavier.
But he didn’t carry it for that. It was for protection, and all he cared about in that mode was that the bullet went where he aimed it.
He wasn’t out to be a sniper, he just wanted that bear or ticked-off moose to decide he had better things to do than go after a piddly little human.
He also checked his Blackfoot knife in its sheath attached to his belt before he slung the backpack over his shoulder.
Since Hetty’s pack was also right there on the dock, he picked it up, too, and lugged them both into the plane and stowed them carefully in the racks just behind the cockpit.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the copilot seat.
On flights like this, he was usually back in the passenger area, talking to the clients, explaining a few specific things about their destination if they were old hands, explaining a lot more if they were newbies.
But today there would be no one and no reason for him to be back there.
No reason for him not to sit up front. Except one.
Spence felt suddenly as if a battle was raging inside him.
His brain was saying, Of course, sit in front.
It would be silly not to. Besides, he liked it up front, where he could look out over this place that stirred him like no other, where he could spot the locations he’d been to fish or hike or just breathe in that Alaskan air.
Not to mention his other favorite view, which was her.
But his gut was saying, Stay back there, as far away as you can get.
Because it would be torture. And Hetty wouldn’t want him up front anyway.
Or would she? Whenever they had clients who wanted to sit up front, or who wanted their kid to, she’d never seemed to mind, and even found things for them to do.
But that was a paying client. Not her RTA partner she could barely stand to be around.
He could ask, he supposed.
Now there’s a concept. Just ask.
He could almost hear his cousin Mitchell, the ever-practical lawyer, the one who cleaned up messes for all the Coltons, saying the words with a roll of his eyes.
He went back down the steps to the dock.
Hetty was just finishing up her exterior check.
She glanced at him then went back to making a note in the small notebook she carried.
Old school, perhaps, but necessary here.
It always came as a shock to some of their guests that there were actually places where WiFi didn’t exist and you were actually offline the entire time you were there.
They had it at the headquarters building, courtesy of a satellite link, but out at the camp, there was nary a cell tower nor an internet connection in sight. And he kind of liked it that way.
“We need to top off the avgas?” he asked, thinking about the necessary fuel for the flight.
She shook her head. “We’re good. We’ll be flying light, even with the cargo load, without the two intended passengers and their gear.”
He nodded in acknowledgment, hesitated, then said it. “You mind if I sit up front, or would you prefer me out of your way?”
She went still, her hand stopping midnotation. It was a moment before she looked at him and he wondered, rather urgently, what she was thinking.
But all she said was, “Your choice.”
He didn’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed that she hadn’t made the decision for him. At least she hadn’t said, “Stay out of my way.”
Up front it was then. He’d just sit, keep his mouth shut and enjoy the view.
He’d go through it in his mind, thinking about how each place was on foot.
As they passed over the east end of Chugach State Park, he’d ponder his last hike at Columbia Peak.
Then the lakes. He’d always loved the symmetry of them, all of similar shape, crescents that were laid out in order of size from the smallest Tonsina to the largest, Tazlina.
He had the thought he should tell Hetty not to buzz too low at Tazlina, or his dad and uncle might think they were searching for them. He turned to look at her, but the words died in his throat.
Hetty Amos made that plain, RTA shirt look…well, sexy. He couldn’t tell if she was wearing makeup, but if she was she was doing it right, because, well, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was she looked amazing.
He turned back to looking out the window. He’d best just sit here and enjoy that view.
And avoid the other view he loved.
* * *
Would you prefer me out of your way?
Yes! She’d wanted to say it. She’d wanted to shout it.
But she already knew, in her gut, that having him out of sight did not equal having him out of mind.
So if he was going to be in her thoughts anyway, he might as well sit up where he could see better.
She knew how much he loved watching the landscape unroll before them, and she wasn’t cold enough to deprive anyone of that.
Besides, of all the fishing camps they flew to, this one was the closest, so it wasn’t going to be a long flight anyway. Which was probably just as well. She was already twitchy.
She walked to the end of the dock and looked out toward the sound.
While it wasn’t rough, it wasn’t anywhere near glassy smooth, either.
Which was good, since she hated dealing with the excess surface tension of glassy water.
She would have liked a little more wind to head into for the takeoff, but this would do.
At least once they taxied out of the marina there would be all the room the Cessna needed to take off.
Unknowing passengers were sometimes surprised at how much room a seaplane needed to take off because of the hydrodynamic drag of the floats.
No, it should be a normal takeoff; one she’d done hundreds of times. But there was no plane less forgiving of sloppy piloting than a seaplane, so she knew better than to take anything for granted.
She did a final check of the cargo, although she knew Spence was always careful. He might not be a pilot, but he understood the center-of-gravity concept, and how important it was in flying floatplanes.
He also knew enough to help Jake push them off from the dock and then quickly make the jump aboard before she turned on the engine. A floatplane under power was moving, whether you wanted it to or not.
Spence chose the front seat, as she’d expected. At least he turned off auto-flirt when it was just them. And she knew he knew the basics of the instruments and controls, just in case.
She lowered the water rudders and upped the power to the engine until they were taxiing away from the RTA dock at a pace she was comfortable with.
For some reason, a memory came back to her from a picnic-style gathering of RTA people the owners had hosted.
She been the newest hire at the time, and as always, was grateful they’d taken a chance on her, a relatively inexperienced pilot.
She’d been afraid she’d have to leave Alaska to get that first job.
When she’d said as much, Ryan Colton, Spence’s dad, had smiled at her and said, “We like when we can hire people we already know and trust.”
“Too bad you can’t handle a boat, too,” one of their crew had joked. “I could use a break now and then.”
“The heck she can’t.” Spence had jumped in. “That plane’s a boat until it’s airborne.”
She’d wanted to hug him, and might have if there hadn’t been so many people there, including all of his family.
That was the Spence she remembered, the boy with more discernment than anyone gave him credit for.
Looking back now, she thought it was probably the moment when her high school crush on Spence Colton had reactivated.
And refused to die, even when she watched him flirt with clients, because she knew, she just knew, there was more to him.
She even had proof, like the time they’d been prepping to take the Alexander family out to the main fishing camp.
The parents had been worried the kids would get bored with no internet, so he’d talked to them a bit and found out they liked this one board game even if it was hopelessly old school.
So, Spence had gone out and tracked down an edition of the game in a secondhand store and packed it up with the rest of the gear.
When she’d realized what he’d done, she’d practically melted inside.
That was the Spence she knew lived beneath the casual, carefree exterior.
The Spence she remembered from the hours they’d spent together fighting through his quirky way of learning.
The Spence she’d never forgotten, for so many reasons. Even if the man sitting beside her now seemed like a surface imitation.
The takeoff was uneventful, as she’d hoped.
Their destination, when they got there, would be a different matter.
Partially because the lake was so much smaller and she’d have to taxi them out from the campsite to where she could utilize more of its length for takeoff.
But it was also usually a bit windier there, which would help with faster liftoff.
She chuckled inwardly at herself. Get there first, before you worry about leaving.
“Something funny?” Spence asked, sounding wary.
“Just me getting ahead of myself,” she said.
“You always think ahead. It’s a requirement, isn’t it, to be as good as you are?”
Yes, that was one thing about Spence she could always count on. He never failed to compliment her on her flying. He might joke about everything else, might be a goofball sometimes about some things, but not about this.
“I do try to think ahead,” she agreed. “And thanks.”
He shrugged. “Truth is truth.”
Yes, it was. And the truth was the same as it had always been since the first time she’d laid eyes on Spence Colton and had felt a totally unexpected jolt of attraction. And that she knew she could never, ever have him, didn’t ease that feeling one bit.