Timberline Trail (5 page)
Authors: Loren Lockner
“It was no problem,” said Jon
, rising and stretching his long limbs. “You’d have made a fine doctor.”
Tia e
xamined the tall stranger who’d taken such concerned pity upon her wolf. Dark brown hair cut a bit too long framed a tanned, bewhiskered face. Dark green eyes dotted with flecks of hazel gazed steadily back at her, revealing no discomfort at her intense perusal of his features. The leanness of his face and frame, as well as his practical attire, indicated he was an outdoor man, used to the fickle whims of Alaska’s weather. At roughly six feet, while not striking, he was pleasant enough to look at. Tia guessed he was probably in his mid-to-late-thirties, though it was hard to be accurate because of his bristled face.
“I’m afraid I don’t know you.
Are you from this area?”
“Not exactly, I’ve been working here for the past three months
, off and on.”
“And just what were you doing on the road this time of night?” asked Steve accusingly.
Jon gazed long and steadily at Steve as Tia sensed the two men squaring off and sizing each other up.
It suddenly occurred to her what a strange coincidence that two unacquainted men had suddenly converged upon her cabin within the space of a few hours; a cabin she’d lived alone in for several months.
Jon answered quietly, “I’m a nature photographer and maintain a camp some five miles up the road in
Bear Canyon, beyond Crane Lake. I’ve been photographing wildlife for a book I’m compiling with my friend Ben Oswald who’s rather a famous naturalist. He does the research and I take the photos. He’s to meet me at our camp on Thursday, but with this storm he’ll probably be delayed. You and your wife have picked out a lovely spot.”
Steve suddenly laughed
, sounding relieved as Tia choked out hoarsely, “We’re not married!”
Jon looked surprised.
“Oh?” and Tia recognized how that sounded.
“What I meant to say,” corrected Tia, “is that St
eve’s Kia died up there on the road and he’s marooned here. He’s staying at the Timberline Lodge and I’ve already contacted them via short-wave. Would you like to use it as well?” She disliked the measuring glance bestowed upon her by Jon’s dark green eyes.
Jon shrugged, ignoring her embarrassment.
“There really wouldn’t be any reason to call anyone since I’ve been staying at my camp alone and Ben hasn’t arrived yet. I really need to be getting back before the storm picks up any more force.” He stuck out a calloused hand to Steve who shook it firmly. Tia glanced at the tall living room windows, noting the snow flying against the dual-paned windows, which shuddered under the high-pitched wail of the wind.
“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea,” stated Tia
, suddenly making up her mind. It occurred to her that it would probably be safer if the two men remained here instead of her being left alone with Steve, though he seemed a nice enough fellow. She’d forgotten, after her secluded months here, that men didn’t always have the most noble of motives, and if Steve and Jon could serve as chaperones for each other so much the better.
“Jon, I absolutely forbid
you to return to your camp tonight. You’ve mentioned it’s only five miles away, but we’re in white-out conditions. Where’s your car?”
“Parked near the blue Chevy Blazer by your ca
bin, which is yours I take it. I’m afraid that if I don’t return to my camp within the next couple hours I might not have a camp to return to. I hadn’t gotten around to weather-proofing the entire camp and with this fluke storm I’m certain my tents will blow away since I’m not there to secure them.”
“Better your tent than you,” acknowledged Tia.
Steve grudgingly spoke up. “She’s right Jon. I’m no expert, but this seems like a right nasty storm. Tia serves a mighty mean soup and some delicious bread if I do say so myself.”
The wind screeched at that very moment, causing the logs to creak under the force of the gale.
Jon still seemed agitated. “Alright,” he agreed, “but I have to
return to my Jeep and retrieve my stuff. My photographic supplies are still in there and I don’t want to leave them in the car.”
“Let me go with you,” offered Steve surprisingly
, as Tia cocked her head quizzically, wondering just what he was up to.
Jon puckered his dark green eyes before shru
gging in agreement, “I could use the company. It’s getting pretty dark Ms. Heath; do you have a flashlight for Steve?”
“Certainly,” said Tia
, and followed the two men into the entryway.
Steve looked at his thin
parka and then back at Tia skeptically.
“Why don’t you wear this one,”
asked Tia, removing her father’s old navy blue parka from the cupboard. It will keep you a lot warmer than your windbreaker there.”
“Very funny,” quipped Steve as he shrugged into the heavier jacket.
Jon pulled up his hood and with a curt nod to Tia opened the door. The force of the wind caught the trio in an icy blast and the men bowed their heads as they headed into the night. Tia struggled to close the heavy door and immediately returned to the wood stove, shoving additional logs. The men would be stiff and frozen when they returned.
Within five minutes Tia flung open the door for the cold pair.
Jon carried two bags over his shoulder; one a small backpack and the other larger one obviously full of photographic supplies. Steve appeared more frozen than when he’d arrived at her cabin earlier that day and carried an additional black leather bag for Jon, which he dropped unceremoniously onto the floor before removing his borrowed parka and snow-encrusted boots. He rushed to the beckoning warmth of the dancing fire, rubbing his hands vigorously before the flames.
“Things
are a bit chilly,” Jon said in vast understatement and Tia had to smile. Jon certainly didn’t mince words.
He hung up his parka neatly
, and sitting on the entryway bench removed his hiking boots, while assessing Tia in her snug blue jeans and red-checked shirt as she returned to the main room, stepping over the sleeping wolf carefully. She spoke briefly to Steve before heading into the compact kitchen to rustle up some of that soup Steve had been boasting about. Jon’s serious face noted the advertiser’s appreciative stare follow the slender woman as he yanked thoughtfully at his troublesome boot laces.
Steve strode quietly in his stocking feet to the e
ntryway door and peered down at the unconscious wolf before raising his dark brown eyes to Jon’s. The two men locked stares for several tense moments until Steve moved nonchalantly into the kitchen, both suddenly wishing they hadn’t so foolishly left their weapons locked in their cars.
“The snow was nearly shoulder level at the
Jeep,” complained Steve, as he sat at the small round table where Tia now served both men brimming bowls of soup with melted parmesan cheese and crunchy croutons floating on top. Thick slices of fragrant bread with butter pooling over the brown dough enticed the starving men, and as a special treat, she added some cut cantaloupe in a bright bowl painted in sunflowers.
“Is that cantaloupe?” asked Jon
, leaning forward, gazing in amazement at the bright orange melon.
“It is indeed,” answered Tia, “and I’ve got two of them. If you
stay good boys you might get some for breakfast as well.”
Jon smiled across at Steve. “We’re lucky indeed; cantaloupes are a rare commodity in these parts.”
“Well they’re a dime a dozen in
Seattle,” answered Steve, who only forked a couple of pieces onto his plate whereas Jon piled seven or eight. Tia sat between the two men and sipped her overly hot soup.
“So you’ve been in the area for a while,” said St
eve casually. “Have you seen any nice properties for a city slicker like me to purchase?”
Jon stared at him intently before taking a sip of his chicken soup. “Not really.
Most of the lots around here are pretty primitive and it would take months of work to make them habitable. I do know up near Bear Canyon there’s fairly nice stands with some really nice lodge pole pines and paper birch trees. There might be some by Crane Lake, which is fed from a small stream not too far from here.”
“Any fish?” asked Steve excitedly.
“I don’t know. There might be some trout or catfish but I really wasn’t looking at the fish.”
“And what
were
you looking at?” asked Steve sharply as Tia spread some butter on her warm oatmeal bread. His blonde, sun-bleached head tilted intently toward Jon.
“Animals. Today I managed to photograph a badger digging
between the roots of a large white spruce for some grubs. I obtained some fine shots while he actually had a worm between his two paws and ate it like a piece of popcorn. The night before last, as I photographed a porcupine clawing at the base of a cottonwood, I think I discovered a mole hole. I plan to set my camera up and hopefully photograph the blind creature when it comes out scrounging for tender shoots.”
“So you photograph little animals?” asked Steve sarcastically.
Jon returned a tight half smil
e. “Not always. Ben and I traveled to Kodiak Island not so long ago and photographed grizzly bears during the salmon season as they slapped the fish upon the rock before sitting upon their haunches to devour their impromptu meal. And a few years ago Ben and I were fortunate enough to do a photo study of musk ox in the Northwest Territories.”
“Wait a minute!”
Tia leaped from her chair and bounded into the living room, searching the overcrowded bookshelf. She retrieved a large picture book and carried it back to the table.
“I’ve made the connection now!
You’re Oswald and Simons! You produced that incredible book on the Polar Regions released about three years ago! I’ve read it cover to cover several times and all the information you included on tundra wolves proved to be very helpful regarding Sugar.”
Jon leaned over and fingered the well-worn text.
“Guilty as charged. I swear it took me six months to thaw out after that one. Ben and I are choosing an Amazonian trip for our next adventure.”
Steve opened the heavy cover and flipped through the incredible book.
“Wow. I had no idea you were famous.” He had the grace to look impressed. Steve turned to the back sleeve. “You look quite different in this picture.” It was almost an accusation.
Tia peeked at the bright color photo.
A grizzled and round-cheeked man in his sixties stood next to a young, clean-shaven Jon. The nature photographer appeared relaxed and happy, an actual grin plastered on for the camera. He suddenly appeared attractive and approachable, even though Mt. McKinley dwarfed the two men. Jon was not smiling now and for some reason seemed oddly put out.
“That photo was taken nearly three years ago.
I was a lot younger then.” Tia wondered at the significance behind the simple words.
Apparently Steve didn’t pick up on the nuance.
“So now you’re trying to film the grizzly? That sounds like dangerous work.”
“It is, but very rewarding.
I hope to find the matron with her two cubs that’s rumored to hang around Crane Lake. If I can get those shots, I’ll pretty much be finished here and can head for Denali to photograph Dall sheep and moose.”
Steve shuddered, “I think I might have seen one of your grizzlies around here just the other day.”
“Did it have a hump?” asked Tia. “Normally we don’t get many grizzlies in this area, but have quite a few black and brown bears. Brown bears don’t have the large humps on their shoulders. How much do you think it weighed?”
“I don’t know,” said Steve
, setting down his spoon. “I’m not an expert, but he looked as though he stood ten feet tall and weighed at least 1000 pounds.”
Jon nodded, “That sounds about right.
Kodiak grizzlies can get up to fifteen hundred pounds and stand ten feet high on their hind feet. You don’t wanna mess with one of those. I suggest you wear your bear bells if you’re planning to remain in bear country.”
Steve’s eyes
widened at the mention of the size of the bear. “Bear bells?” he repeated.
“Bears don’t prefer contact with humans and if you wear bells it warns them off.
It’s a wise precaution for any hiker around here,” interjected Tia.
“I’ll keep that tidbit of information in mind.
So you like photographing animals?” asked Steve.
“Yes, I was born in the
Yukon and spent many a summer traipsing around Alaska and Western Canada. I’ve been around animals of the north all my life since my family keeps a summer home in British Columbia. I tried to do some other things with my life, but always found myself returning to the wild, finally deciding photography would be a nice career choice for me. After I met Ben Oswald I was able to realize my dream. We’ve completed several different projects together and our book on the Amazon should be coming out in the spring.”
“So you’re Canadian?” asked Tia.
“Actually my mother’s Canadian and my father’s from Minnesota so I carry dual passports. Dad was with the Highway Commission and worked on the Alcan Highway for a while when they were doing that major revamping project for the Highway’s 50
th
anniversary. I think both he and my mom finally got tired of the cold and ended up in Orlando, basking in the sun. Florida is a little too hot and humid for my taste so I find myself drawn to the far north and its interesting wildlife.”
