After the Fireweed

After the Fireweed

By Beth Carpenter

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2017 by Beth Carpenter

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

www.BethCarpenterBooks.blogspot.com

Chapter 1

Afterward, Laura wouldn’t be able to say whether it was the musky scent or the crackling of branches that first alerted her. She was alone, the first car in the parking lot of the Powerline Pass trailhead. Thrilled that her Thursday off coincided with a rare sunny August day, she’d hiked up the mountain and claimed the berry patch as her own, gorging on more of the tiny lowbush blueberries than she dropped into the pail at her waist.

She paused to fill her lungs with cool mountain air. The city spread across the valley below her. The leafy trees almost hid some neighborhoods, only a few roofs visible. The high-rises of downtown clustered beside Cook Inlet, the land on the other side flocked with spruce. She recognized the bronze color of the Hotel Captain Cook, and counted eight blocks east to where Marian would be running the store.

Suddenly sensing she was no longer alone, she turned. And froze.

The bear was enormous. How could something this huge have been invisible a minute ago? She knew there were bears around Anchorage. In fact, she’d worn bells on her belt to make noise and warn them away, but her slow movements picking berries hadn’t jingled the bells.

The shaggy blond grizzly huffed and stood up on its back legs, towering over her. Laura stared for a moment, and then began backing away, easing toward the pack she had left lying further along the slope. Why hadn’t she thought to put the pepper spray in her pocket?

She tried to remember the advice she’d heard. Make yourself look big. Her hands trembled as she unzipped her light jacket and opened it wide. She tried to yell at the bear, but her mouth was so dry it came out as a whisper.

Apparently unimpressed, the bear dropped to all fours and charged. Laura tried to step backward, but her feet tangled in the bushes and she fell. She felt a stinging blow on her shoulder as the bear ran by and she landed hard on her back, knocking the air from her lungs and immobilizing her. She couldn’t see where the bear had gone, but she could hear more crashing sounds.

She lay, unable to draw a breath. So, this was how she would die. Her summer of adventure would go out in a grand finale. After whitewater rafting, flying in a tiny plane to land on a glacier, and rock climbing a sheer cliff, it was berry picking within sight of the largest city in the state that would be her undoing. She hoped Cami would be okay without her.

The sounds of cracking twigs came closer. Getting up seemed impossible. She tried to roll over to move away from the bear, but she was up against a rock, and the slope fought her. She heard the bear thundering toward her, the feet thumping on the ground sounding as if it were wearing boots. The shot, when it came, almost deafened her.

Someone stepped over her, moved on down the game trail a few steps, and paused. A furry shape appeared, looming over her and for a second she thought the bear was back, but a wet tongue licked her face and she heard a small whine.

Back off, Moose. It was a man’s voice. He squatted beside her. Are you all right?

She finally managed to draw a breath as she looked up at her rescuer. He was probably around her age, with a faded Alaska Aces baseball cap on his head and a neatly trimmed beard, light brown with flecks of gray. Behind his glasses, intelligent brown eyes looked at her with concern.

The bear? she gasped.

She’s gone, and both the cubs too.

She continued to breathe heavily while she tried to sit up. He put out a hand and shook his head. Let’s check you out before you move. Where does it hurt?

My arm. She reached for her left upper arm with her right hand. When she lifted the hand away, it was smeared with blood.

He nodded and leaned closer. Uh-huh, looks like she clawed you there, but it’s not too bad. You might need some stitches. He looked calmly into her eyes. Can you move your legs?

She wiggled her feet and then bent her knees. Yes, they’re fine.

Good. Okay, let’s get you up. He stood and offered a hand. She accepted and he pulled her to her feet. Her legs trembled as he looped her arm around his shoulders and helped her to a nearby rock where she could sit.

He eased the pack from his back and rummaged around inside, pulling out a faded bandana and pressing it against the wound on her left arm. She drew a breath through her teeth as the pressure against the wound stung, but it eased after a moment.

Sorry, he said. I need to stop the bleeding.

She nodded. Did you shoot the bear?

His eyes crinkled in amusement. No. She’s fine. I just fired in the air to scare her away.

She grinned. What if it didn’t? Were you going to bet my life on it?

He laughed and nodded at the pistol in the holster on his hip. I had four more rounds if we’d needed them, but I don’t like unnecessary killing, especially of a mama.

Oh. I never saw any cubs. She glanced toward her arm, gingerly touching the torn, bloodstained tatters of her jacket sleeve. Let me.

He nodded and moved his hand so she could take over applying pressure to the wound. He sat down on the rock beside her. She turned to face him.

Thank you for saving my life. What’s your name?

Again, that look of amusement crinkled from the corners of his eyes. I’m Clay Tucker, and I didn’t save your life. The bear was already hightailing it out of here, with the cubs right behind her. I only fired to make sure she didn’t change her mind.

All the same, I’m grateful, Clay. I’m Laura Patterson.

It’s very nice to meet you, Laura Patterson. He looked at his blood-smeared hand. I think I’ll skip the usual handshake if you don’t mind.

She glanced at her arm, where she was still holding the cloth tightly against the wounds. I suspect Emily Post would be okay with that.

The dog came to sit in front of them, his amber eyes looking up at Laura. He was a big reddish-brown dog, shaped like a Labrador, but with a curlier coat.

This is Moose.

Hi, Moose. I’d pet you but my hands are occupied.

Clay reached into his backpack once again, and pulled out a small nylon kit. From inside, he extracted a stretchy bandage. Let me see that arm.

She moved her hand, and he peeked under the bandana and then pressed it back again. Blood stained the handkerchief, but it wasn’t completely soaked. He wrapped her arm snugly in the bandage, bandana and all. Next, he found a foil packet containing an alcohol wipe. After opening the packet, he reached for her hand and began scrubbing the blood away, cleaning his own hands after hers were done.

Once he’d finished, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of trail mix, handing it to her.

Her stomach was still fluttering. Thanks, but I’m not hungry.

Probably not, but it might be better if you ate a bit. You still have to get down this mountain, and it’ll be a lot easier if I don’t have to carry you.

Oh. She managed to chew and swallow a few bites of trail mix and drank water from the bottle he fetched for her from her backpack. Her shakiness began to lessen. So, what were you doing up here, besides saving damsels in distress?

Same as you. He nodded to the now empty pail still attached to her belt. Looking for berries.

Oh, no, she cried, gazing at the empty bucket. I lost all my blueberries.

He laughed. You stood to lose a lot more than that. He walked over to where her berries had spilled and managed to gather up a generous double-handful. He returned and dropped them into her pail. There. Now you won’t go back empty handed.

She laughed too, wincing a little as she did. Thank you. She took a deep breath and stood, happy to find her legs were steadier. And thank you for the first aid. I’m feeling stronger now. I think I can make it down by myself, if you want to stay and gather your berries.

How very polite of you. No, I think I’d better tag along, just in case. He shrugged into his backpack, and then slung her daypack over one shoulder.

She would have liked to argue that she didn’t need help, but after looking at his determined face, she decided to save her breath. Besides, she still felt a little wobbly, and it was a long way down the mountain.

She walked slowly across the slope toward the main trail, the bear bells jiggling. Every step she took jolted her and sent a wave of pain across her lower back as well as her arm. She must have hit the ground even harder than she realized. She hugged her arm tight against her body, bit her lip, and continued to hobble across the mountain toward the main trail. She was grateful to find another large rock where she could sit and rest near the creek.

You’re doing great, Clay assured her, handing her a water bottle.

She sipped the cool water and handed it back to him before trying to stand, accepting his help up. He pulled her right arm across his shoulders and put his arm around her waist to support her as they crossed the shallow creek. She slipped once, and a jolt of pain went through her body as she jerked before he could steady her. A tiny whimper escaped before she could stop it but she kept going. Once they reached the main trail, the going became easier. Nevertheless, she was grateful for Clay’s support, both emotionally and physically, as he helped her over some rough spots she had hardly noticed on the way up.

As they reached the tree line, she spotted a fallen log and sat down to rest. Moose came to stare into her face. She smiled at the concern in his eyes, as if it were his responsibility to make sure she carried on. She reached out to rub his ear. He’s a Chesapeake, right?

Right. Clay sounded surprised. Most people think he’s a chocolate Lab.

My uncle has a Chessie. She accepted the water bottle from Clay and gulped down a big swallow. After a few minutes, she took a deep breath. Time to move on.

You can rest a little longer if you like.

No, I’m good. Laura accepted his offer of a hand up and they resumed their slow journey downward. Once or twice she stumbled and would have fallen if Clay weren’t there to catch her. After what seemed like days, they arrived back at the parking lot.

Two vehicles waited there: a nondescript blue pickup and an ancient hatchback. The car had once been orange but was now mostly the color of rust, and somewhere along the way, the orange passenger door had been replaced with a blue one. Laura shuffled toward it.

Clay raised an eyebrow. That’s your car?

I’m only here for a few months. I figured the cheapest option was to buy a beater and sell it at the end of summer. I only paid $500 for it.

He grinned as his toe nudged the crooked license plate, attached to the car with zip-ties. I think you got ripped off.

She frowned. It runs. That’s the important thing.

I can’t argue with that. So, do you want me to take you to the emergency room, or to a walk-in clinic?

She looked at her arm. Blood had seeped through the ace bandage, but only in spots. I don’t think that’s necessary.

You need medical attention. They’ll have to clean it carefully to avoid infection, and you probably need stitches. I know of a clinic not far from here so you won’t have to wait around an emergency room all afternoon.

Fine, but I can drive myself. Just tell me how to get there.

He looked at the car. I assume that’s a stick?

Yes.

How are you going to drive it?

She glanced down at her arm. He was right. She couldn’t steer with her left hand while she shifted. A tear of frustration threatened to overflow. Dammit. She’d kept her cool through this whole ordeal down the mountain, only to be thwarted in the parking lot.

Come on. Clay’s voice was kind. Get in the truck and let me take care of you. You’re doing me a favor. I could use all the good karma I can get right about now.

Laura bowed to the inevitable. Thank you. Clay opened the door, and Moose jumped into the truck. With Clay’s help, she climbed in after him. Clay shut the door behind her and went around to the driver’s side. She watched him empty the bullets from the revolver and put it into his backpack. He took a plastic zipper bag out. Want to give me your berries?

She untied the pail from her belt and handed it to him. He poured the blueberries into the bag and put it and the pail into her daypack. Then he tossed both packs behind the seat and climbed in. The truck started on the first try and ran smoothly, something she had learned not to take for granted.

So, you say you’re not from here? Clay asked as he turned the truck and started down the road.

No, I’m just working over the summer. Why do you sound so surprised? Isn’t that pretty common up here?

I suppose so, but the way you handled yourself, I figured you were a local.

What do you mean? I almost got eaten by a bear.

You did all the right things. You didn’t run, you tried to look big, and you didn’t panic. You’ve got to be hurting, and I’m not hearing a lot of whining. You’re a tough lady, Laura Patterson.

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. She hadn’t expected praise. Thank you.

So where are you from?

Arizona. I’m staying with a friend and working in her gift shop this summer.

I would have guessed the south. Maybe Georgia.

She laughed. I grew up in South Carolina, but I thought I’d lost my accent.

Almost, but I can hear a little southern influence in your vowels. Have you had a good summer?

It’s been great. The scenery is fantastic, and I’ve had all sorts of wonderful adventures. This is really the first thing that went wrong. She studied his face as he drove. On the surface, he seemed perfectly calm, but his jaw was tight. He was concerned, but trying to relax her with small talk. She appreciated his efforts. How about you? How long have you been in Alaska?

Let’s see. It would be forty-two years now, minus the four years I went to college out of state. My family moved here when I was a boy.

You came back right after college?

Oh, yeah. I felt like a fish out of water. I couldn’t wait to get home. He pulled into a strip mall and parked in front of a storefront near the center with a red cross painted in the front window. We’re here.

Laura found her muscles had stiffened during the short ride, and she was glad when he came to help her from the truck. She shuffled along toward the building. He held the door for her.

Inside, a mother and two small children were sitting in the waiting area and a dark-haired woman about her age stood at the reception desk, shuffling through some papers. Clay guided Laura toward the desk.

Hi, Gwen. I have a live one for you.

The woman looked up and gave a smile of recognition. Hi, Clay. What’s up? Her eyes scanned Laura from head to toe, pausing at the bloody bandage on her shoulder.

This is Laura Patterson. She had a little run-in with a bear up on the Powerline Trail.

Wow. Gwen’s eyes widened. Laura, I’m Gwen Hansen. Let’s get you into a room and we’ll take care of the paperwork later. Follow me please. She stepped from behind the desk and started down a short hall. Was it that blond grizzly with twins? I saw her getting into the neighbors’ bird feeder last week.

Clay nodded. Yeah, that’s the one.

I was afraid she’d cause trouble. It’s always dangerous to get between a mother and her cubs. She opened the door to an examining room. Just sit here on the table.

Clay turned to go.

Could you stay? Laura’s voice was small.

Clay raised his eyebrows and looked at Gwen. She shrugged. It’s fine with me, as long as you stay out of the way.

Clay settled in the chair in the corner and Gwen came to stand beside Laura, examining her arm. Is this your only injury?

Laura nodded. Except for some bumps and bruises from the fall.

On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?

Oh, four or five unless I move my arm.

Gwen picked up a small light and shone it into Laura’s eyes, causing her to blink. Headache, dizziness, vision problems?

A little dizzy when I stand up too fast.

Your pupils are responsive and even. That’s good. Gwen made a note on a nearby computer.

So, you’re the doctor? Laura asked.

Gwen laughed. Yes. Sorry, my office manager ran out to get coffee. My husband and I run this clinic. He’s in with another patient right now, and our nurse is assisting him.

She gently removed the ace bandage from Laura’s arm and examined the area. This doesn’t look too bad. We’ll have to clean it well, and you’ll need stitches, but the lacerations aren’t terribly deep. She must have knocked you down with her paw, and just raked her claws over your arm as you fell.

Yes.

I’m going to give you a shot for the pain, another local to deaden the area, and an antibiotic. Are you allergic to anything?

Laura pressed her knuckle against her lower lip. Shots?

Gwen laughed. Don’t tell me a woman who survived a bear attack is afraid of needles?

Well …

It’ll be fine. Gwen winked. Clay will hold your hand. Do you have any known drug allergies?

No.

Good. I’ll be right back.

When Gwen returned carrying three needles on a tray, a man followed her in. He greeted Clay and then turned toward her. Tall and blond, he had a ruddy face and his faded blue eyes were kind.

Laura, this is my husband, Dr. Peter Hansen. Much as I hate to admit it, he’s a better tailor than I am, so he’ll be doing your stitches.

Hello.

Hi, Laura. He bent to examine her arm closely. Yes, that’s not so bad. There may be some minor scarring, but it should heal fine.

So, I’ll have proof I survived a bear attack.

He laughed. That’s right. A bear mauling holds one of the highest rankings in any scar contest, right up there with a shark bite. I’ll go get everything ready while Gwen gives you the shots. He left the room.

The shot needles lay on the table nearby. Laura glanced toward the needles and quickly looked away, drawing in her breath.

Gwen grinned. Clay, you’re up. Hold her hand and distract her until I’m done. I’ll give her a lollipop afterward.

Clay hesitated, but he came to stand beside Laura and reached for her right hand. I don’t like needles either, he whispered. Just look at me and think about something else.

Like what? She felt Gwen swab alcohol across her shoulder.

How about those blueberries you were picking. Did you eat any of them?

Laura laughed. I ate about as many as I gathered.

And how did they taste?

Laura tried to ignore Gwen pinching her skin and focus on her memory of the berries. Wonderful. Sweet and juicy. The flavor seemed so much more concentrated than ordinary blueberries. She flinched as the needle stung.

You’re doing fine. Have you ever tried salmon berries?

What are they?

"They’re related to raspberries, but they’re a lighter salmon color. They