That’s a lie. I know exactly why I said it. An uncomfortable feeling pangs in my stomach.
I don’t believe this. I’m jealous of Marie.
I caught my boyfriend of a year being handsy with Stephanie Dupont and I waved goodbye. Meanwhile, one moment of intimacy with Jonah and I’m ready to extend my stay so I can stake my claim against his attractive female friend.
This is what I get for kissing Jonah.
A coughing fit on the other side of the office door announces my dad a moment before he pops his head out from the office. “Hey, Marie. Has it been a month already?”
Marie’s face splits into a wide grin. “It always feels too long for me, Wren. I thought you got rid of that chest cold already.”
“Yeah . . . Guess it’s hanging on there.” No one not the wiser would notice the way he shifts on his feet, as if uncomfortable with the lie. To Jonah, he says, “The report says the fog has cleared for the time being, but there’s heavy cloud cover. Possibility of light rain.”
Jonah stands upright with a resigned sigh and I can’t help but admire the shape of his chest, remembering what my hands felt like pressed against it just this morning. “I’ll fly low. It’s probably as good as it’s gonna get.”
“What’s going on?” Marie asks, her eyes seemingly absorbed with Jonah’s face.
“Going to pick up some hikers. They’ve been waiting at the checkpoint since Thursday.”
“You want company?” she offers eagerly.
“I’ve already got it, thanks. Promised her a flight up that way. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
It takes me a moment to realize Jonah’s talking about me.
I struggle to wipe the shock from my face. He never promised me anything. Is this his way of avoiding time alone with Marie?
Or spending more time alone with me?
This is where I need to decline, to tell him to go ahead and take Marie. It’ll send a clear message that this morning was a mistake, and that I’m not interested in repeating it.
“Are you ready?” He looks pointedly at me.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” Oh . . . Calla. An odd blend of excitement and fear churns inside me. Am I ready? Forget whatever’s happening with Jonah for the moment. Am I ready to get back in a plane after watching him crash just two days ago?
Why does this feel like a test? Another “let’s find out what you’re made of” Jonah adventure.
Only this time, I care if he likes what he sees.
My dad eyes the two of us for a moment, as if weighing something in his head. Finally he turns to Jonah. They share a long look. “No risks,” he warns him.
“In and out,” Jonah promises solemnly.
“There’s another one!” I exclaim, aiming my camera lens downward to try and capture the moose as it cuts through the river that snakes along the valley, the broad crown of antlers atop its head almost regal. “Those things are huge.”
My eyes have been glued to the ground ever since we spotted a small herd of caribou grazing near the opening of the mountain range. It’s an entirely different landscape on this end of the Kuskokwim River than the side that weaves through the tundra. Here, the valley is a mingling of tall, tapered evergreens, meadows with smatterings of pink and purple wildflowers, and wide, rocky river shorelines, the colors that much more vivid against the murky gray ceiling.
“You’ll find pretty much everything up here. Wolves, caribou, reindeer, sheep . . .” Jonah’s attention is on the flight path ahead, which I’m thankful for because we’re flying low and on either side of us are mountains, their tops shrouded by mist. “Keep an eye out and you might catch a grizzly or three.”
“Are there a lot?”
He chuckles. “You’re in bear country. What do you think?”
I shudder, and yet find myself scouring the waters with new interest. “How long have these hikers been in here, anyway?”
“We dropped them off eight days ago.”
“Eight days?” I try to imagine what that means. That’s eight days of slugging camping gear up and down mountains. Eight days wandering around the wilderness—with bears, sleeping in a tent—with bears, searching for food—with bears. Eight days without a toilet or a warm shower. With bears. “That’s crazy.”