Chapter Five
Claire
Ihave only one more chance this year to take the train ride north before it gets busy with the summer tourists. As the summer progresses, I’ll start making the drive by car to avoid the crowd. The train jerks, then pulls from the train station as I pull Jamison’s latest letter from my handbag. I settle into the ride so I can read his words again.
◆◆◆
Dear Claire,
You’re right, secrets don’t make friends.
So now you and I have to reveal every hidden secret we have. From here on out, I’ll reveal a secret of mine in exchange for one of yours.
Spiders creep me out. Now I’ll be waiting for a secret in return.
And you’ve never flown? You should fly at least once in your life. And look, now you’re friends with a pilot. You’ll be 10,000 feet in the air in no time. Nothing more beautiful than Alaska at that altitude. Gliding along as the real world fades. The weight of the world lifting away from your shoulders.
Can I take you up one day? We could fly over the Chugach Mountains or deep into the Denali National Park. Wherever you want to go.
And yes, it was my mother who taught me how to fly.
Please tell me more about being a teacher. I think your job makes you braver than I am. The strength and dedication it takes to teach little ones is something else entirely. What grade do you teach? How big is your class? Can you take a photo and show me your classroom setup when I see you next?
I’m up a secret, so there will be no revealing what I gave your father. You’ll just have to come up and see, then stop by and see me too.
Jamison
◆◆◆
The letter settles in my lap as I stare out to the Chugach Mountains in the distance. I’ve read the letter for the third time and have thought hard about each thing he said. I play with the corner of the stationary as my gaze travels along the peaks of the mountains in the distance. Jamison is right; it’s beautiful out here. I try to picture it from his angle, but I can’t. Never have I been able to look down at the world from such an angle.
The train stops, and I follow the passengers off. I lift my worn messenger bag higher on my shoulder keeping my head down until a subtle breeze pushes the smell of cedar and mineral oil toward me. I jerk to a stop once I’m on the sidewalk and lift my head. Jamison is standing before me, tall and showing a broad smile behind his scruffy beard. He’s wearing a plaid flannel shirt that molds to his large body and worn jeans with his scuffed-up hiking boots. His wild hair is tied back again, flyaway hairs lifting from the breeze. His green eyes are bright, the corners crinkled.
Can I drive you home?His signing is more confident this time. Not fluid yet, but considering he’s learning in such a short time just for me makes my heart skip a beat.
Yes. Thank you.
He turns and points at his Jeep. When we get to the back, he tips his head toward my bag. His hand is extended to me, the request in his eyes. There aren’t many people who communicate so well with their bodies. Jamison is one who does. And he’s a helper.
I don’t need help, so I open the back and toss my bag in myself. He smiles and nods. My point made. Perhaps I’m as easy to read as he is for me. I’m a bit strong-willed and will keep him on his toes. I like the balance that forms between us.
Jamison walks to the passenger door and holds it open. I walk to the driver’s side and open the door myself.
He gives me a smirk and a headshake. You’re trouble, he signs.
You want me to drive?I raise my brows and tilt my head. I can’t contain the smile when he hops inside and shuts his passenger door. I climb into the driver’s seat. My eyes widen more when he passes the keys over. He really does trust me enough to let me drive his Jeep.
Jamison gets comfortable and lounges out. He’s a big man, broad and built like he’s always on the move. His hair is long, rugged, and wild. His jaw is covered in that same blondish-brown hair. It’s not so thick I can’t make out his lips from this angle. They twitch, then lift at the corner. They beg me to kiss them, but I don’t have the courage.
When I glance up and meet his eyes, he’s watching me. A wave of heat soars through my body. His eyes are darker, like a wicked forest at night. I gasp as a tremor wracks my body. I’ve never felt something so intense before.
I close my eyes, steady my breathing, and lean away. The connection is broken when I open my eyes again. His eyes never leave me during the entire drive to my parents’ house. I put the car in park and turn his way.
Thanks for the ride. You didn’t have to pick me up, I sign, then jump out of the Jeep and walk to the back to grab my stuff. I also can’t believe my father told him when I would arrive. He has a real soft spot for Jamison, that’s for sure.
Anytime. Your mom told me when you arrived, he signs, then grabs my bag from the back and hands it over before I have a chance myself. I debate inviting him inside, but I don’t, and bite my lip instead. Apparently, my mother is just as interested in our budding friendship.
I’ll see you tomorrow?he asks.
What time?I tug hard on the strap of my bag as I secure it on my hip. My heart beats so hard I hide my shaky hands the moment I point to my wrist and ask my question.
Six?
I agree and wave goodbye, then turn to head inside. With one more glance over my shoulder, I find Jamison watching me walk into my parents’ home. He gives one more wave goodbye, then climbs into his car to make the short drive to his place. I shut the door behind me and unload my bags in the entryway. When I step into the living room, my smile immediately falls. What the hell?
My father’s wave catches my attention as my eyes sweep across the messy living room. Large piles of white survey papers cover every inch of the space.
What is all of this? I ask, my brow lowering and jaw clenching.
It’s the survey papers Daisy found from the Hogan Ciphers, he signs, then lifts one to show it off, the smile spreading across his face.
That’s a hoax! Every treasure hunter has heard of the Hogan Ciphers and the bounty they apparently are hiding. After several hunters went searching through the Copper River Valley and turned up empty-handed, most assumed it’s a hoax. I spent many years researching stories and taking on expeditions in search of hidden gems with Mom, Dad, and Maddie. This is one even we hadn’t believed.
Maybe, but how fun is this?He waves me over with a flourish of his hand. It all coincides with the maps and journals too. Maybe Daisy found something up there.
I wade through the piles of once-rolled-up land survey papers covering the living room coffee table. Oftentimes, you’ll find an old treasure hunter who knows a thing or two about properly marking the land when they do excavations. Seems like Daisy did.
Who is Daisy? I ask.
Jamison’s mom. She passed away a few years ago.
She’s dead? My face falls. He hadn’t told me that in our letters.
Dad gives me a solemn nod, then points to one of the maps for me to scan over. It details flight plans over the valley. Daisy tried to find the Hogan Ciphers and had pages upon pages of research here. I start to wonder if she actually succeeded or not. It’s been a while since I’ve researched with Dad like this.
I glance at Dad. He digs out a red leather-bound journal, opening it to a passage. The feminine script stares back. This must be Daisy’s too. Jamison is entertaining my father with old and well-loved treasures from his late mother. I settle on the couch and start reviewing the journals and maps, sharing the interesting things I find.
The sun’s rays have long since moved across the horizon and flood the room in a dark orange by the time Mom walks into the living room. Steaming bowls of soup are in her hands. The clam chowder scent floods the room. Jamison was right; Mom is happy when Dad is busy and distracted.
Thank you,I sign to her before grabbing my bowl and returning to the journal entry I was reading over. Dad is going over the old maps and coinciding with the land surveys as I relay the flight patterns Daisy took and what notes she made in her journal. We haven’t done this since we lost Maddie because I’ve been too caught up with life to bother.
The light in my father’s eyes confirms he’s missed it. So have I. My mother joins in, and the thrill of research takes over us all.
I set my bowl down and lift the journal to show Dad the entry that caught my interest. He adjusts his wire-framed readers. His blue eyes narrow, then his shoulders begin to shake. The laughter I’m sure is sounding throughout the home. I see it and laugh myself.
Seems like our Daisy found more than treasure on her journey, Dad signs.
He and Mom carry on a conversation, but my attention shifts back to Daisy’s words. She sure did find another adventure. I bite my lip and continue to read.
Entry 1988/04
I made the flight again. I know I shouldn’t be coming here, but the land up here holds more allure than gold bars or buried histories. Although those lured me to Cordova first, it was Victor who brought me back again.
So many times as I was flying here, crossing the Copper River or passing the Orca Inlet, I told myself to return home. Go back to Casper and never make this trip. There is nothing in Cordova for me anymore. Heartbreak, sure, and a deeply rooted need, but nothing that should have me making this flight or sleeping in this inn alone.
The scariest moment in life is following love. It’s the riskiest and most terrifying mission I’ve ever accepted. And the first time I’ve ever thought of returning home without my treasure in tow.
I set the journal down and turn to my father. He’s still observing the map of the Copper Valley. I tap his shoulder.
Who is Victor?
He slides his glasses off and sighs. An old friend and Jamison’s father, I’d assume by that date. The way his face falls, I know again this isn’t a story I want to hear, but I need to hear just the same.
He is gone too?
Yes. Died years before Jamison would be old enough to know him.
Siblings? Does Jamison have any family? I jerk my hands, my lips pressing into a thin line.
No.
My father turns away, ending the conversation. I rise and pace the living room, unable to shake the way my body is coiled. My parents give me a questioning look, and I tell them I’m fine.
Aren’t you hungry?Mom asks, then glances to my now-cold clam chowder.
No. I lost my appetite. I need to see Jamison. I need the rent check. I’ll go pay Jamison now.
Sure, I could give it to him tomorrow when he comes over, but I want to see him tonight. I have to know he’s okay. As irrational as that sounds, I need it. Being alone is hard. I didn’t know he was so alone up here.
I slip my shoes on and rush from the cabin the moment Dad digs the check out and hands it over. I move quickly, not thinking much about how the sun sits so low in the sky. I knock on Jamison’s door and release a breath when it opens. Only it’s not Jamison.
It’s the gorgeous brunette who was with him last time. Her eyes, brown ones as big as a doe’s, widen when she sees me. Although her brows are covered by her bangs, I’m sure they are raised high on her forehead.
Hi. She recovers quickly and rolls her hand in a “come” gesture, then opens the door entirely. I enter, unable to refuse even though I don’t want to intrude. She’s his friend. She’s hearing. She’s gorgeous. He’s not alone. He has other friends, ones I remember seeing the last time I stopped by. I shouldn’t have rushed so quickly. It was irrational.
The woman nervously jerks her body and stops directly in my path. She fidgets with her hair, pressing a wild strand behind her ear.
Hi,she waves again. She points to herself, then signs, name, by tapping her pointer and middle fingers together. My eyes widen. She stumbles. Her lips move in a curse, one I know all too well. “Shit.”
I hold my hand up in a calming gesture and send a reassuring smile.
The woman takes a steady deep breath and begins again. She finds her confidence. Hi, my name is Rylee. Nice to meet you. She sends me a bright smile and looks my way to see if I understand. I do.
Hi, I’m Claire.
She stares hard at my fingerspelled name as Jamison steps into the living room. He pauses, his brows drawn up. He opens his mouth, but his lips never move to create words.
I sign to Rylee. Nice to meet you.
She catches that my eyes are still focused over her shoulder and glances that way. Jamison nods, then comes toward me. Rylee disappears into the other room.
I hand the rent check to Jamison, knowing the moment it slips from my fingertips, I’ll leave. I had no reason to rush over tonight. I hadn’t even made a plan, just reacted, which I never do. I’m not spontaneous like that.
Jamison catches my gaze, then signs, She said please join us. She would love it.
I don’t want to bother you.
He shakes his head no and repeats, Bother,I don’t understand. His brows furrow. He’s learning signing, but there’s still so much.
I give a smile. I never mind repeating myself for him. He’s really learning the language well, so I fingerspell bother.
I don’t want to bother—I look to the side and see one of his guy friends peeking around the corner. His boyish smile makes me laugh. He has a puppy dog look and mischievous eyes. Chadwick, I believe—you or your friends.
Chadwick waves his hand in a “come here” gesture. I look back to Jamison.
You don’t bother. I want you here.
I nod and swallow, then pull my phone out to text my dad. I don’t want them to miss where I’m at and worry.
Jamison’s friends asked me to stay and visit. I’ll be back soon.
Dad’s response is instant.
Hey, don’t let Chadwick corrupt you if they’re playing poker. He’s a cheat, I’m telling you.
I pause from where I’m walking into the kitchen and tilt my head to the side. I tug on Jamison’s sleeve when he’s close, my fingertips sliding along his forearm. I drop my hand, his warmth remaining.
My phone tilts his way, but he draws closer to see. So close that if I turn, my nose will brush across his neck. I inhale, all Jamison. The goose bumps spread across my body.
He pulls away and laughs. A full laugh that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and shakes his body.
Can I? He points to my phone, then to Chadwick. He wants to show him. I shrug. Jamison walks around the table as the other man, Finn, waves. Rylee has a beer she passes to him, then she offers me one.
I take it. Jamison hands me my phone back while Chadwick shakes his head and waves his hands in a “no” gesture. There’s playing cards spread across the table, and Jamison returns a few moments later with a chair as Chadwick returns with a piece of paper and pen he left to grab.
That’s not true, Chadwick scrawls on the piece of paper and shows me. I just raise a brow and shrug nonchalantly. He tilts his head back and makes a fist, then wrinkles the paper and tosses it. I take the new spot Jamison gives me and set my beer between my legs. The cold condensation wets the denim.
Chadwick comes in close and wraps his arm across my shoulder in a hug. He points to my phone on the table. I hand it to him.
He quickly types something out and returns it with a wink.
Finn’s tell is if he knocks the table with his knuckles. Rylee will go serious and focused. Jamison will tap his foot. If you play anything like your father, you don’t need any more of my help.
I darken my phone when Jamison tries to lean in to read it. I push him away with a smile.
Secrets don’t make friends, he signs.
Sharing secrets does.
With a smile, he gives me that one, then he splits his money with me so I have an ante.