Touching the Clouds: A Novel (Alaskan Skies Book #1)

Kate glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon—time to leave. She’d been wanting to get to the airport ever since Paul Anderson had mentioned it. But with Helen out sick for three days, there’d been no time. Today was the day.

She handed Mrs. Sullivan her change and a bag containing thread and buttons. “Have a nice day.”

The kindhearted woman tucked the money into a coin purse. “You too, dear.” She snapped the purse shut, and instead of leaving, she smiled at Kate. “Did I tell you my son is coming to visit?”

“Next week, right?” Kate managed to conceal her impatience.

“Yes. I can scarcely wait. It’s been nearly two years since he was home.” She hobbled toward the door, then stopped and turned to look at Kate. “It’s a terrible time for my rheumatism to act up.”

“Maybe it’ll be better by the time he arrives,” Kate said, wishing she’d hurry on her way. Guilt flashed through her mind. Mrs. Sullivan was a caring woman who deserved her full attention.

“I dare to hope.” Mrs. Sullivan shuffled out of the store.

“Have a good day,” Kate called after her. She looked at the clock again and wondered if Helen Towns could spare her.

Dusting rag in hand, Helen walked toward the register. “Poor Mrs. Sullivan, she suffers so.”

“She’s very nice.” Kate glanced out the front window. “I talked to Mr. Towns about taking time off today. I won’t be gone long.”

“Oh yes, that’s right. He told me.” She looked around the store. “I’m certain we can manage with all the business we have at the moment.” She smiled, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thank you.” Butterflies took flight in Kate’s stomach. Today might be the day.

Albert joined the women. He circled an arm around his wife’s small waist and tugged her in next to him. Turning his attention to Kate, he said, “We’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you.”

Helen rested a hand on Kate’s arm. “You’ll do fine. Mr. Schaefer can’t help but like you.”

“Not everyone is as nice as you two.” Kate clasped her hands in front of her, trying to wring out some of her tension. “I just hope he needs a pilot. And if he does, that he’ll hire a woman.”

Figuring it would be better to face Mr. Schaefer in flight attire, Kate hurried to her room and changed into slacks and a tuck-in shirt. She sat down, pulled on boots, and laced them. After running a brush through her hair, she picked up her perfume and was about to dab some on, when she thought better of it. She skipped the lipstick as well, thinking natural was best.

Pulling on her leather jacket, she headed toward the front of the store, trying to maintain an air of calm. She smiled at Helen, who was working at the front register.

“Good luck,” Albert called, then returned to stocking a shelf with canned goods.

Kate stepped outside. She’d decided to fly to the airstrip, so she headed toward Merrill Field. Nerves made her muscles tight, and every few steps she’d shake her arms, trying to loosen the tension. It didn’t help. She stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Lord, I need your help. Convince Mr. Schaefer to give me a chance.

When Kate reached the airfield, she found George, the manager of Merrill Field, with his head inside an engine compartment.

He looked up. “Hi. Haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“I’ve been putting in a lot of hours at the store.” Leaning against the fuselage, she said, “I heard the airfield at Lake Spenard might need a pilot.”

“Yeah? I’m not surprised. Understand Sidney’s doing pretty well over there.” He pulled a rag out of his back pocket and wiped his hands. “He seems like a good man. Hope he has something for you.”

“I figured I’d take my plane.”

“Good idea. It’s a fine aircraft. Wish I had a spot for you.”

“Me too.” Kate didn’t know what else to say. She’d have preferred working for George. Momentary silence swelled until it became uncomfortable. “Well, I better get going.”

“I’ll crank your plane for you.”

“Nah. You’re busy. I can do it.”

“Okay.” He picked up a wrench. “Let me know how it goes.”

“I will.” Kate walked to her plane. For a moment, her desire to hurry nearly convinced her to skip the inspection, but she forced herself to take the time—better safe than sorry. Everything seemed fine, so she climbed in, pulled on her helmet, and then checked the gauges and oil. All was in good order.

After priming the engine, she climbed out and moved to the side of the plane. Using the hand crank, she turned the flywheel until the sound became shrill. “That ought to do it,” she said, hurrying inside and pulling the starter. When the engine lit off, it sounded rough. Kate made an adjustment to the mixture and it evened out.

She turned the plane toward the runway and rolled over bumpy ground until she was lined up on the field. Her nerves still spiking, she studied the windsock—it fluttered west to east. Skies were clear. If only today was the day . . .

The Bellanca ran smoothly as Kate taxied to the end of the runway and took to the air. As always, exhilaration lifted her right along with the plane. For a few moments her body relaxed, then she tightened her hold on the stick. A lot was at stake. She’d been in Anchorage more than a month and this was the first solid lead she’d had. This might be her chance.

Kate was in the air only a few minutes when she spotted the airfield. Smart of him to set up alongside a lake. He can use pontoon planes during the summer. Memories of the dark waters of Rimrock Lake hurtled through Kate’s mind. She’d managed to get back into the air, but had never attempted a pontoon landing since the accident. I’ll do it when the time comes, she told herself, only half believing her own resolve.

She made her approach and settled easily on the dirt runway. What looked like a shed sat at one end of the field. She taxied toward it. A small slender man, wearing a broad-brimmed cowboy hat, stood at the doorway.

By the time Kate turned off the engine, he’d walked to the plane. He wasn’t the type to stand out in a crowd, except for the way he was dressed. Along with his hat, he wore blue jeans and western-style boots. Kate figured he couldn’t be more than thirty and wondered if he was the owner or one of the pilots.

She removed her helmet and climbed out of the plane.

“Afternoon,” the man said. “That’s a fine bird you’ve got.”

“Thank you. She’s been good to me.”

He walked around the craft, studying it. “Interesting name you’ve got for her—Fearless Kate.” He grinned. “Let me guess—you’re Kate.”

“I am.” Feeling the heat of embarrassment, Kate glanced at the side of the plane where she’d painted Fearless Kate in black letters. “I was a bit exuberant when I first got her.”

“No harm in that.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked at her squarely. “I’m Sidney Schaefer. What can I do for you?”

“I was told you might need a pilot.”

“Maybe. You know one?” Mischief lit his eyes.

Kate swallowed hard and got hold of her nerve. “I’m a good pilot.”

His expression turned serious. “I’m sure you are. But I need experience and someone who’s strong—strong enough to load gear for hunters and stow bagged trophies, someone who doesn’t mind a bit of blood or puke, who can handle an aircraft in any kind of weather.”

“I can do all that.” Kate spotted a feed sack leaning against the shed. She walked straight to it and picked it up. It smelled and felt like potatoes. She carried the sack back to Sidney and set it at his feet.

He grinned and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Not bad. That’s nearly seventy-five pounds.”

“I’ve been working all my life. I’m strong and I know how to work hard.”

“That’s well and good, but it doesn’t make you an ace pilot. What kind of experience do you have?”

“Been flying since I was a kid. My father taught me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Bill Evans.”

“Never heard of him.”

Feeling as if Sidney had made a dig at her father, Kate said, “He flies in Washington, and there’s no better pilot.”

“So, you’re new to Anchorage?”

“I’ve been here about a month.” Doubt assailed Kate. Would he even consider a woman pilot?

“What makes you think you can fly in this country?”

She searched for a satisfactory answer. “I have more hours in a cockpit than most. I’ve flown in good and bad weather— rain, snow, wind. And I’ve crossed the Cascades several times. Those mountains will give any pilot a run for their money.” His expression told her he wasn’t satisfied. “I flew here, on my own, from Washington.”

“Alaska can throw more trouble at a pilot than they can think up. You know how to land in snow and ice?”

“We had plenty of that in Yakima.”

“Do you have experience with pontoon landings?”

The dark waters of Rimrock Lake flashed through Kate’s mind. She met Sidney’s eyes. “Not a problem.”

He studied her, then with a shake of his head, he said, “I don’t think so. I’m sure you’re a fine pilot, but . . .” His look was pained. “You’re a woman. And this is rough country.”

“Let me prove myself.” Kate tried to sound like she wasn’t desperate.

“If something goes wrong, I become the bad guy, the one who let a lady pilot join my crew. I’d like to help you out, but—”

“Fly with me,” Kate blurted. “Test me. I’ll take you anywhere you want. I’ll show you what I can do.”

Using the underside of his thumb, Sidney lifted the brim of his hat, then squared his jaw as he studied her plane. “Fearless Kate, huh . . . All right—you show me.”

Nerves knotted the muscles up and down Kate’s back, then moved down her arms and into her hands. She fought for calm, and hoped Sidney didn’t notice. She increased power and rolled toward the end of the runway. Do your stuff, Katie, she could hear her father say, and felt bolstered.

The ground rolled by faster and faster. The end of the strip came at her, and she pulled back on the stick and felt the plane lift. Free of earth, the ground fell away below and she soared over Lake Spenard.

“How many hours you log in a plane?” Sidney hollered over the sound of the engine.

Kate didn’t know how to answer. She’d flown nearly every day of her life. “What do you mean exactly?”

“How many hours you spend flying this bird?”

“I bought it in 1933, but like I said, I’ve been flying since I was a child.”

“What kind of plane you have before this one?”

“I . . . I had another Bellanca.” She waited for the question that would end her chances at this job.

“What happened to it?”

She compressed her lips and tried to think of a lie, but couldn’t. “It crashed into a lake.”

“All by itself?” Sidney’s tone teased.

“No. I was flying it.” Kate hurried to explain, “I was young and a friend and I—”

“Don’t get in a sweat. You’re not a real pilot if you’ve never had a crack up. And you must have done something right—you’re still here.”

Kate wet her lips and didn’t say anything more. She was alive—Alison wasn’t.

“You ever use your plane for work?”

“I used to haul equipment and fruit and vegetables.”

“What about passengers?”

“Friends.”

“Any strangers? You get along with people?”

“Most of them.” Kate relaxed, figuring she’d survived the issue about the accident.

“How do you think you’ll do when you have a snarly hunter who figures you should have shown up a day earlier than you did, or a sick kid who needed medical help two days ago and it’s a full day’s flight to the hospital?”

“I’ve never done anything like that, but I’m levelheaded. I’m sure I’d manage.”

“You gotta do better than manage.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but charged ahead. “Ever have to keep a schedule?”

Kate thought the question absurd. “Almost everything in life has a schedule.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “You’re a smart aleck, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” She smiled inwardly, feeling as if she’d connected with the man she hoped would be her new boss.

Kate flew over Anchorage, then banked the plane as she circled the small town. She glanced at Sidney. “I won’t let you down, not ever.”

“Yes, you will. Every pilot lets people down, and it’ll be more than once.”

His words trounced Kate. She’d let Alison down, plus her father and Alison’s family. She’d let them all down. She blinked back tears. Now was not the time. “I mean, if I say I’m going to do something, I will, and if I’m supposed to be somewhere, I’ll be there—on time.”

“You think so?” He smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. I want you to head toward those mountains, the Chugach. Let’s see how you handle a little turbulence.”

Kate turned toward the mountains. At the sight of the formidable peaks, her heart pumped hard with anticipation and fear. The Chugach were daunting.

When the white peaks looked big in the window, Sidney pointed toward a gorge that ran between two jagged ridges. “Fly right through that canyon.” He folded his arms over his chest, as if daring her to handle the unpredictable.

Kate kept her eyes on the mountains, but her mind puzzled over Sidney. Would he purposely put them in danger? Or did he trust her experience?

Although Kate was careful to stay on the upwind side of the canyon, the plane shivered and rattled. It dropped into an air pocket and was then tossed upward. As Kate met the challenge, she gained confidence. She knew how to deal with turbulent conditions.

She made her way up the gorge and the pitching increased. Her plane bounced as if it were a kite being tossed in a brisk wind. The walls of the mountains closed in. She waited for Sidney’s instructions, knowing that if she didn’t head back soon, there wouldn’t be enough room to make the turn.

“All right, I want you to go back the way we came and then cruise over Cook Inlet.”

Kate obeyed, happily. Sidney certainly couldn’t doubt her abilities now. However, as she approached the inlet, she tightened her grip on the stick. Clouds had moved in, creating a low ceiling. She couldn’t fly above the gray stacks—she’d have to maneuver beneath them.

Approaching the layer of black and gray, she calculated the distance between sea and sky. She was fine; there was plenty of space . . . or just enough. She ducked beneath the cloud bank, so low she could see birds fishing in the choppy waters below.

“Good, now follow the coast along the peninsula.”

Kate relaxed a little and held a course that followed the shore. Some beaches were sandy, others rocky. All were littered with driftwood and other debris, some were barely visible beneath a confusion of logs and sea life.

“Have you ever made a beach landing?”

“Once, on my way up the coast from Washington. It was a little dicey, but I got down all right.”

“You see that piece of sand down there?” He pointed at a stretch of shoreline.

“The one with the rock outcropping?”

“Yep, that’s the one. Can you put us down on it?”

“I think so. I’ll have to check it out.”

Kate pushed the stick forward and decreased altitude. The beach looked unstable. There were rivulets of water running into the bay—which most likely meant mud or soft sand. She circled the proposed landing site, flying low enough to note obstacles. “It should be all right, maybe a little soft.”

She looked at Sidney. “Are you familiar with this beach?”

“Yeah. It’s not too bad, but you’re right, the sand can get mushy. When you come in, keep the nose up a little, otherwise you’re liable to plant it in the dirt.”

Feeling both delight and apprehension, Kate made one more flyover, then set up for her run. She figured it would be best to descend on the end of the beach with the rocks. That way she could take off toward them and into the wind.

Keeping a gentle touch on the stick, she gradually descended. The earth rushed past her below the plane; she continued to decelerate and then felt the wheels touch down. Wet sand pulled at them. She remembered what Sidney had said and made sure to keep the nose up, then eased back on the throttle and rolled to a smooth stop.

“Not bad,” Sidney said.

Feeling gratified at his compliment, Kate sat back and dropped her shoulders, easing the tension in her muscles.

“Now, do you have a plan for getting us home?” He grinned.

Kate knew better than to take off without making an inspection of the beach, but didn’t want Sidney to think she was insecure or inexperienced. She decided caution was the best choice and said as boldly as she could manage, “I want to walk the beach first, to plan the best strategy for takeoff.” She watched for irritation or disappointment on his face. There was none.

“Good idea.”

Feeling almost lighthearted, Kate climbed out of the plane and headed up the beach. Sidney left the cockpit but stayed with the aircraft, leaning against it while he smoked a cigarette. Kate was thankful for time alone to relax and to gather her thoughts.

An onshore breeze carried the sharp odor of the sea and the calls of seabirds. Gulls hopped across wet sands, then complained at Kate’s intrusion as they opened their wings and lifted into the air.

The direction of the wind would make for an easier takeoff, but the sand was soggy. Walking back and forth across the shore, she looked for the firmest areas. When she found a strip that felt solid, she walked its length, grabbing clumps of kelp, tossing them into the surf and rolling pieces of driftwood clear. Some she used to mark the runway.

She studied what lay beyond the rock outcropping. The trees were bent and not too tall. She looked the other direction. It was the same. If she made a mistake, there’d be no place to put down.

Kate walked back to the plane, pacing off the distance. Finally, she did a quick check of the area where she’d have to turn around and decided there shouldn’t be any problem with the wheels getting bogged down.

“You ready?” Sidney asked, flicking away the last of his cigarette.

“All set.” Feeling surprisingly calm, she climbed into the Bellanca and settled into her seat.

Sidney cranked the plane and the engine lit right off. He hurried around and climbed in beside her. “Let’s get this bird in the air.”

Turning the craft around so she was facing the makeshift runway, Kate held her breath, hoping she hadn’t made any miscalculations. She studied the line of takeoff, double checked the wind and reference points, and then eased in the throttle, moving the plane forward. Not too fast. You don’t want to end up with the prop stuck.

She picked up speed. The rock outcroppings rushed at them. She’d have to lift off soon. One wheel left the ground and her speed increased, then the other wheel followed . . . and she was airborne. The rocks and the trees were close. She gently pulled back on the stick and cleared the obstacles, then soared over the surf, leaving the dark waves behind.

“You know the way home?” Sidney asked.

“I do.” Kate felt jubilant. He’d have to hire her.

When Sidney said nothing while she followed the coastline toward Anchorage, though, her confidence waned. She put down without difficulty and rolled toward the end of the runway. Afraid to even look at Sidney, she turned off the engine.

He removed his flight cap and held out his hand. “You got a job with me, if you want it.” He smiled broadly.

“I do.” Kate shook his hand, barely managing to hold back a whoop of joy.

“It’s only part-time. I need a pilot for a mail run. Think you can do that?”

“Absolutely.” It wasn’t everything she wanted, but it was a beginning.

“Mike Conlin’s been filling in on that run. He’ll take you out. Be here Monday morning, eight o’clock sharp.”

“I’ll be here.”

Sidney studied her. “Prove yourself and I’ll let you fly passengers.” “I will.”

He climbed out of the plane and, before closing the door, said, “Don’t disappoint me.”