Chapter Three
Abby sat by the fire with her arms wrapped around her knees.
Slowly, she stopped shivering. Around her, lingering rain drops glistened on the trees, dropping unceremoniously to the ground.
The sound of the water dripping was soon accompanied by birds, which had begun to sing their songs again.
She closed her eyes and focused on the sounds, lulled by their sweet lullaby, the crackling and popping of the fire the icing on the cake.
She was tired. So very tired. And her heart tore at the loss of Junior.
She barely knew the man, but losing him was traumatic nonetheless.
“What do you think happened to Junior?” she asked. “Did he have a heart attack?”
Whit was moving around the fire, feeding it more wood and placing stones next to it. Some small, some large. One very flat. For what purpose, Abby did not know. “That would be my guess.”
Abby wiped her eyes as tears sprung. “You’re sure he was, you know…dead?”
“I’m sure.”
Abby sniffled. “Before the fire, right?”
“He was gone,” Whit said, sitting next to her and dumping the contents of the nylon bag onto the ground. “The accident nearly cut him in half.”
Abby covered her mouth. “Oh, God.”
Whit took a can of Spam and peeled the lid. “I checked for a pulse just to be sure. There wasn’t one.”
Abby lowered her hand as she watched Whit fish out the slimy hunk of meat into the pot with her knife. She didn’t seem at all fazed by Junior’s demise.
“Aren’t you upset? I mean, wasn’t Junior your friend?”
“He was a friend,” she said, placing the pot on the large flat rock which was balanced over the flames on other stones. “But there isn’t time to be upset. I just have to take care of the matters at hand. Like making sure we’re safe and warm.”
“I appreciate that,” Abby said, feeling a little sheepish. Whit was taking care of them. It was courageous and honorable, as well as absolutely necessary. “I wish you’d let me help.”
Whit stabbed at the now sizzling meat with her knife, slicing it up. “You really hell-bent on helping?”
“I want to do my part.”
Whit held up the knife. “You can cook dinner.”
Abby frowned but took the knife. It wasn’t what she had in mind as far as helping, but she knelt next to the fire anyway and shuffled the glistening meat around the bottom of the pot.
It was beginning to radiate a scent, and though she didn’t care for the heavily processed meat, or any meat for that matter, her stomach told a different story.
She was hungry and the frying pork concoction smelled appetizing.
“So, I guess I’m the little woman cooking the meals while you build the shelter and do everything else?
” Abby smirked. Whit seemed to fit the strong silent type, with her sinewy athletic build, and quiet, straight to the point manner.
She’d done all the important work thus far, and building the shelter had taken some muscle and skill.
Abby felt almost ridiculous sitting there stirring the canned meat.
“I can do other things, you know. I’m not helpless. ”
“You don’t know survival,” Whit said, carefully picking up some of the smaller hot stones and putting them in the nylon bag. “Or bushcraft.”
“No, but I’m capable of learning.”
“See, that’s the problem.” With the bag full, Whit took the stones and dumped them inside the shelter where the bed of pine needles lay.
Then she returned and retrieved more stones to place back by the fire.
She caught Abby watching her as she worked.
“They’ll help dry out the bedding,” she said.
“And later tonight, we’ll put more under the needles and they’ll help keep us warm. ”
“Oh.” It was a neat idea. One she never would’ve thought of.
Whit turned their damp clothes and rehung them on the fallen log. “Clothes are drying,” she said. “Hopefully they’ll be dry before too long. I hope by sunset, but that’s wishful thinking in this weather.”
“When is sunset exactly?”
Whit glanced at her watch. “In three hours.”
Abby stirred the meat, trying not to stare at Whit and her body, or think about spending the night with her alone inside that shelter. She knew nothing amorous would happen, but just the idea of being so close to her left her head spinning. “I think this is done.”
“Good, I’m starved.” Whit sat next to her and reached for the blue-and-white box of Sailor Boy Pilot Bread. She opened the box and took out the round, white crackers.
“What’s that?” Abby asked.
“Pilot bread. An Alaskan staple.”
“Is it good?”
Whit shrugged. “They’re pretty plain, but they fill you up.
” She handed a few to her and then scooped some sizzling meat onto her own cracker and took a bite.
She closed her eyes as she chewed. “It’s nothing fancy, but it hits the spot.
” She opened her eyes and gave Abby the knife, encouraging her to do the same.
Abby maneuvered some Spam out of the pot and spread it on a cracker. She took a bite and chewed quietly. Whit was right. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t awful either. And right now she was just grateful to have it.
“Yeah?” Whit asked, taking the knife from her for more meat.
Abby nodded, still chewing. “Mm-hm.”
“We need to find some water. Shouldn’t be hard to do. I know there’s a creek not far from here.”
“You know where we are?” Abby grew hopeful. Maybe their situation wasn’t as dire as it seemed.
“I have some idea.” She made another meat-topped cracker and ate. After she swallowed she spoke. “I know we need to head north. That’s our best bet.”
Abby felt her body go limp with disappointment. “Does anyone know where we are?”
Whit seemed surprised at the question. “I don’t think so.”
“Not at all?”
“Junior was big on his shortcuts. Even when he flew. I doubt he told anyone where we were going.”
“I told my contact in Cozy I was getting a ride up from Fairbanks,” Abby said. “But I didn’t know how to explain the shortcut. I guess I should’ve asked Junior exactly what road we were taking.”
“You didn’t know,” Whit said, once again handing over the knife. “And you couldn’t have known that Junior would up and die on us. Or that the vehicle behind us wouldn’t help.”
Abby tried to return the knife, no longer feeling like eating. But Whit gently pushed it back to her. “You need to eat. You’re going to need your strength. Especially with the cold and with your hurt knee.”
“I’m upset,” she said. “Junior…” She shook her head, the image of him half in and half out the windshield coming to mind, along with Whit’s words about him.
Whit placed a hand on her shoulder. “Try not to think about it.”
“How can you not?”
Whit dropped her hand.
“I mean, you saw him. You were there. It was traumatic. The whole thing was traumatic.”
Whit took the knife, which Abby still refused, and fished out more meat for her and put it on a cracker. She handed it to her. “Eat,” she said softly.
“I can’t.”
“Try. Just one more.”
“Not until you tell me how it is you’re so calm.”
“I told you, there’s no time to be upset.”
“That can’t be all,” Abby said. “You’re…it’s like you’re used to this.”
Whit stood and poked at the fire with a stick. It was obvious by her behavior that she didn’t want to discuss it. But Abby couldn’t let it go. She was just too curious. She wanted to know this stranger she was stuck in the middle of Alaska with.
“Whit?”
“Just drop it.”
“I want to know.”
“I said, drop it.” She tossed the stick into the fire.
Abby stood alongside her. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just want to know a little more about you. Because I can’t, for the life of me, understand how it is you’re so at ease with this situation.”
Whit flexed her jaw as she stared off into the trees. The sun had lowered and the birds were beginning to quieten. A noticeable chill was creeping in and Abby edged closer to the fire, wondering if it was just the weather or Whit’s demeanor as well.
“I’ve been in the wild a lot,” Whit said, still staring off into the woods. “So I know a lot and I’ve seen a lot.”
Abby studied her, waiting to see if she’d continue. She did not.
“Well, I guess we’re lucky then. To have your know-how.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it. Things are as they are.”
Abby touched Whit’s arm, feeling the urge to comfort her. She seemed so far gone, so sad. But she moved away from her touch and found another stick to play with the fire.
“I’m sorry, Whit.”
“For what?”
“For whatever is making you so upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Right. Because there’s no time.”
Whit finally met her gaze. Her dark eyes flashed in the firelight. “Right.”
Abby settled onto the ground and gave up.
Whit was a gorgeous woman, one full of strength and mystery.
But she was also seriously closed off. She obviously had walls that Abby knew from experience would be difficult, if not impossible, to tear down.
Hell, she’d be lucky if she could even peek through at some point.
She toyed with some pine needles next to her, wondering if she’d even dare to peek through. Whit obviously didn’t want her to, and who knows what she’d see. Maybe she’d better back off. At least for the time being.
She continued to pluck the pine needles, now tossing them into the flames. Whit, who was staring into those same flames, remained silent. And then, just as suddenly, she was gone, walking away into the dense woods.