When Kate stepped into the shop, Sidney glanced at her from beneath the rim of his cowboy hat. A mass of paperwork sprawled across his desk in front of him. “Morning.” He didn’t smile.
“Why you so grumpy?”
He leaned back and stared at her. Using the tip of his pencil, he pushed up the brim of his hat. “What? I look cranky?” His tone was sarcastic. He flung the pencil onto the desk where it rolled across the chaos of papers. “Government interference—that’s what’s got a burr under my saddle.”
“What’s up?”
“There was a day when pilots could do what they wanted, where they wanted, and how they wanted. No one nosed in. People might have thought we were crazy, but they were grateful. Now the American government is butting in. They want a list of all my pilots. They want to know what you fly and where you fly.” He pressed his elbows on his desktop. “What do they care? They know nothing about our business, nothing about Alaska and what life’s like up here. Bush piloting isn’t a pretty package that you can tie up with a bow. We do what we have to.” He shook his head. “If they have their way, we’ll end up with our hands tied and we’ll be a useless bunch of has-beens.”
Kate rested a hip against Sidney’s desk, took a piece of peppermint out of his candy dish, and popped it into her mouth. “If they knew how many hours we log in during the summer, they wouldn’t believe it.”
“Turn their hair gray.” Sidney picked up a dead cigar from the ashtray and clenched it between his teeth while he tried to light a match.
“Speaking of work . . .” Kate stood. “Any runs for me?”
“Had a call a while ago, a fellow from Idaho. Said he and his wife are staying with friends here in Anchorage, but need to get to Fairbanks. Sounded kind of desperate, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.”
Disappointment filtered through Kate. “At this rate, I’ll never have enough money to buy a place of my own.”
Sidney pressed his back against the chair and gave her a hard stare. “You think you’re the only one hurting? Compared to the rest of the country we’re in the money. At least we have work.”
He picked up a newspaper lying amidst the muddle on his desk. “Seattle Times has a story about folks living in shantytowns. Call ’em Hoovervilles.” He opened to the article. “Says they got ’em all over the country. Got a picture of one right here.” He turned to the page so Kate could see.
She looked at the photograph. “When I flew over Seattle, I saw it. It’s terrible—whole families just trying to survive.”
“Hard to believe people are living in cardboard boxes and abandoned crates. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Kate felt a flush of guilt. “Sometimes the Depression seems far away.”
“Yeah, I’d say we’re not doing too bad up here. When you’re flying, you get paid good money and so do I.” Instead of sounding thankful, though, Sidney’s tone was angry.
Kate wondered what was up. She looked at her hands, studying her short nails. “I do have a lot to be thankful for.”
“You betcha. We all do.” He closed the paper, folded it, and glowered at the paperwork on his desk.
Sidney wasn’t acting like himself. “Is something going on?” Kate asked tentatively. “Has something happened?”
He didn’t answer right away. Finally, he took the cigar out of his mouth and studied it. “My brother lost his job and his house. All our growing-up years, he was the one the family figured would be a success. He’s the studious type, hardworking. Now, he’s hitting the pavement looking for a job, any job.” Sidney picked up the pencil and, holding it between two fingers, tapped the eraser on the desk. “Told him he could come here, but he says Alaska’s not for him.”
“He’ll find something.”
“Yeah. Something’ll come up.” Sidney didn’t sound convinced.
Kate moved to the woodstove. “Won’t be long and you’ll have to light this. Nights are getting cold.”
“We’ve still got a few good weeks left.”
A car pulled up in front of the office. “Hope that’s the rider to Fairbanks.” Kate moved to the window.
A tall man wearing a suit hurried around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. A woman dressed in a stylish pink skirt and a tailored maternity blouse stepped out. Although she was very pregnant, she managed to look elegant. She wore a smart hat with a broad brim that matched her pink skirt. It mostly concealed a chic short hairdo.
The man held the woman’s arm as they walked toward the door. When they stepped inside, Sidney unsuccessfully tried not to stare at the woman’s abdomen.
The man removed his hat. “Morning. I’m Fred Dorsey. I called earlier about a flight to Fairbanks.”
“Right.” Sidney stood and crossed to the man to shake his hand. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“This is my wife, Jean.”
Sidney gave the woman a friendly nod.
“We have family in Fairbanks waiting for us,” Jean said. “We’ve got to get there right away.”
Sidney took the stogie out of his mouth. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, ma’am, but you look like you’re just about ready to have a baby. It’s probably not a good idea for you to fly.”
She smiled and rested a hand on her protruding stomach. “I’m fine, really. I’m not due for another week.” She tipped her head slightly, peering at Sidney from beneath the brim of her hat.
“A week’s not so far off. Babies come pretty much when they want, don’t they?” He put the cigar back in his mouth and puffed. “You’d better stay put. Anchorage has a good hospital.”
Jean tucked a blonde curl in place beneath her hat. “Please. I promised my sister I’d be there. She’s having a baby also, and we’ve always done everything together. Our due dates are the same, and if I don’t make it, she’ll be hugely disappointed.”
Sidney wasn’t convinced. “I’d like to help you out, but you should have done your traveling sooner.”
“I’ll pay extra.” She dug into her handbag.
Sidney shook his head. “It’s not the money. I don’t want you to have your baby on one of my planes.”
“I’m not having it right now. And if I understand correctly, the flight’s not that long.”
Fred stepped forward, his expression earnest. “This means a lot to my wife. I assure you the doctor says she’s fine.”
Sidney gave Kate a sidelong glance.
Kate thought about the money. “I don’t mind, Sidney. I’ll take them.”
Fred looked at Kate, as if seeing her for the first time. “She your only pilot?”
“Right now she is.” Sidney leveled a serious look at Kate. “It’s not a good idea.”
“You heard her. She’s fine. And the doctor gave permission.” “And if she decides to have that baby between here and Fairbanks?”
“What are the chances?”
Sidney thought a moment, then with a shrug said, “Okay by me, but if something goes wrong, it’s not on my head.”
Fred grinned. “Thanks.” He shook Sidney’s hand. “I’ll get our bags out of the car.” He headed outside, Jean following slowly.
Kate grabbed her pack. “See you later.”
“You don’t need the money that bad.”
“You worry too much.”
“That’s my job. Someone’s got to keep the business afloat.” Sidney watched them out the window. “I don’t know. She had that look.”
“What look?”
“Can’t explain it exactly, but I’ve seen it before—right before . . . well, you know.”
Kate laughed. “If you could predict births, you’d be a rich man.” She opened the door. “See you later.”
Mike pulled up just as Kate stepped onto the field. He waved at her, then disappeared inside the shop. A few moments later, he reappeared and loped across the airstrip. “Hey, Kate. Can I catch a ride with you? I’ve got business in Fairbanks.”
He glanced at the man and woman slowly making their way across the airfield. “You have passengers—will that be a problem?”
“Not at all.” She smiled. “It’ll be nice to have your company.”
“Okay, then.” Wearing a smile, he hurried toward the man lugging two bags and took one from him.
Mike reached out and gently touched Kate’s arm. “Glad we get some time together. Seems all we do is work.”
“That’s how summers are.”
Kate glanced at Fred and Jean. They sat side by side, holding hands. They looked comfortable and content. Kate felt reassured.
“So, you fly much?” Fred asked.
“All the time,” Kate called back. “I’ve been to Fairbanks more times than I can count. The weather’s clear so we ought to make good time—three hours or so.”
“We appreciate you taking us,” Jean said. “It’s extremely important to my sister. Her baby was due five days ago, so I’ve got to get there. She could have it any time.”
“I thought you said you were due the same day?”
Silence answered Kate’s question. She swung around and stared at the couple. “You lied to me.”
“You wouldn’t have taken us otherwise,” Fred said.
Kate turned an accusing look on Jean. “So, you’re past due?”
“We don’t know that. Due dates are mostly conjecture,” Fred said.
Kate thought she saw Jean wince. “I ought to turn this plane around right now.” She was furious.
Mike leaned close and said into her ear, “Simmer down. It’ll be all right.”
“Please, don’t go back. I’m fine, really,” Jean begged.
She sounded fine and Kate wanted the fare, so she stayed on her heading.
“What’s your dog’s name?” Fred asked.
Kate wasn’t over being mad, so she didn’t answer.
“She’s beautiful. What kind is she?”
Rudeness didn’t come naturally to Kate. She heaved a resigned sigh and said, “Her name’s Angel, and she’s part Siberian Husky and part Malamute.”
Angel heard her name and trotted up to the seats and rested her head in the woman’s lap, or what was left of it. Jean rested a hand on her head. “She’s so sweet.”
“She’s a great dog,” Mike said.
“So, what do you do?” Fred asked Mike.
“I’m a pilot.”
“But I thought . . .” Fred stopped, then nodding said, “Oh . . . yeah. I remember you came in just before we left.”
“No reason for me to fly. Kate’s a great pilot.”
“I can see that.”
Kate glanced at Jean. “You doing all right?”
“Yes, but I am thirsty. Do you have any water?”
“Under your seat.”
Fred reached beneath the seat and pulled out a thermos. “This?”
“No. That’s coffee. You can have some if you like, but it’s Sidney’s and it’s pretty awful.” She grinned, feeling less angry. “The water’s in a jar.”
Fred reached under again and came up with the jar. He handed it to his wife.
Kate thought she saw perspiration on Jean’s upper lip. What would she do if Jean were to go into labor? She tried to calm her fears by reminding herself babies take hours to be born.
Then she heard it—a moan.
She glanced at her passenger. Jean was bent over and clutched her stomach. “What’s wrong? I thought you said you were fine?”
“I am.” Her answer came out through clenched teeth. “I’ve been having pains for a few days. It’s nothing. It’ll pass.”
Nothing? What do you mean, nothing? She glanced at Mike, and his look of alarm only fueled her own.
Jean moaned again. Kate tried to ignore it. But no more than two minutes later, the woman cried out. Kate swung around. “You sure you’re all right?”
Jean gave Kate an apologetic expression. “I don’t know.” Tears mixed with perspiration on her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.”
“What would happen?” Panic rode through Kate.
Fred gently placed an arm around his wife. “What do you mean? Are you having the baby?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
He tried to stand but was too tall for the cabin, so he stood bent over. “What do we do?”
“How should I know? I’ve never had a baby before,” Jean said.
Kate tried to focus on flying. She was a pilot, not a doctor. Panting now accompanied the whimpers and moans. Babies take a long time to get born. Don’t they?
Jean yelled.
Kate jumped, then hollered, “What’s going on?”
“I . . . I think she’s having the baby.” Fred sounded terrified. “We need a doctor!”
“Well, there’s no doctor up here!”
“It hurts. Oh, it hurts.” Jean grabbed the front of Fred’s shirt. “Help me. Please help me.”
“Everything’s going to be all right, sugar.” He moved up front and got close to Kate’s ear. “You’ve got to get us to a hospital!”
Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Look out the window. Do you see any hospitals down there?”
Fred gazed at endless tundra. “What’s the closest place?”
“Fairbanks. And if your wife is getting ready to have a baby, that’s too far.”
Fred went back to Jean. “Can you wait, honey?”
“No! It’s coming! I can feel it!”
Fred moved back to the cockpit. “You’ve got to help us. I don’t know what to do. She’s never had a baby before . . . Do you know what to do?”
“No.” Kate looked at Mike. “Have you ever delivered a baby?”
“Are you kidding?”
Kate glanced at Fred. “You’ll have to handle it.”
Sweating and pale, he stared at her, his eyes wide.
Kate knew he would be absolutely no help. “All right. I’ll look for a place to put down.” Her eyes scanned the wilderness below them. “Outsiders. They’ve got no business being here,” she muttered.
“I can keep flying while you help with the baby,” Mike said.
Kate looked at Fred, then back at Mike. “No. That’s not going to work. I need your help.”
Mike went pale. “I don’t know—”
“I need you. And I’m putting down. Help me find a place.” Kate could hear the alarm in her voice and tried to quiet it. “Please . . . look for a place to set down.”
Kate scoured the Nenana River, hoping for a quiet spot to land. “Jean, hang on just a little longer. And whatever you do, don’t push.”
“That looks like a good spot,” Mike said, pointing at a quiet stretch of water.
Kate dropped down to get a better look. She didn’t see any debris.
Mike moved to the back and sat with Fred, who was clearly distraught.
“All right. Just hang on.” Kate turned the plane and came back around. As gently as possible, she skimmed the surface and dropped onto the water.
Jean screamed.
Her blood pumping, Kate steered toward the bank.
Mike opened the door. “I’ll tie us off,” he said and leapt out.
Kate scrambled out of the pilot’s seat and went to check on Jean. “Let’s get you in the back where you can lie down. Fred, get those bags out of here. We need room.”
He handed one out to Mike, then disappeared with the other one. Kate didn’t know what she’d do now. She’d seen dogs and kittens born, even a calf. Was this much different?
Holding her abdomen, Jean stood and made her way to the back. “It hurts. Ohh, it hurts.”
Fred returned, soaked from the thighs down. He helped Jean lie down. She rolled onto her side and pulled her legs up to her stomach.
Mike climbed in and crouched beside Kate. “What do you want me to do?”
Angel tried to nose in. “Angel, not now. Get back.” The dog retreated.
Kate nodded at one of the bags she always kept with her that held incidentals. “Grab that pack. We’ll put it under her head.”
Kate’s mind clicked through what needed to be done. She’d taken one class in emergency training, but the teacher had spent only a few minutes on births. “In my survival pack there are scissors. And I’ll need antiseptic and some blankets.”
She knelt beside Jean. “How you doing?”
Jean didn’t seem to hear. She squeezed her eyes closed and groaned.
“I’ll need some water,” Kate hollered.
Fred smoothed damp hair off her face.
“I’ll get it.” Mike grabbed a can and disappeared out the door.
Still pale and sweating, Fred asked, “Is she going to be all right?”
“I’ll do the best I can.” Kate unfolded two blankets and pushed one up next to Jean’s back. “Jean, I need you to lie on your back. And then lift your bottom so I can get this blanket under you.”
“Do you know how to deliver a baby?” she asked, rolling onto her back and raising her hips.
“There can’t be that much to it. It’s a natural thing, right?” Kate hoped she sounded composed. Her insides quivered.
Mike stood in the doorway, watching and looking helpless. Jean shrieked as another contraction hit her.
Kate wasn’t angry anymore. Instead she was afraid—for Jean and the baby. She didn’t know what to do. What if something went wrong? Lord, show me how to do this. Help me. She held Jean’s hand. “Everything will be fine. Soon you’ll have your baby in your arms.”
I’ve got to find out how close she is to delivering. “I need to look . . . to see if the baby’s coming out.”
Jean nodded.
Gently Kate lifted the woman’s skirt and removed her undergarments. “Sorry. I know this is embarrassing.”
Jean didn’t hear. She was in the midst of another contraction. “Bend your legs.” Groaning, Jean managed to pull her legs up. Kate gently parted her knees just enough to get a look. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “It’s almost here. I can see the head.”
“I’ve got to push!” Jean screamed and bore down.
“Go ahead.”
Two pushes later, the head was completely out and resting in Kate’s hands. One more push delivered the shoulders and the baby slid free. Kate caught her, then holding her in one hand, she wiped the infant’s mouth and face with a cloth. The baby let out a squall.
“It’s a girl! You have a little girl.” Kate felt like laughing and crying all at the same time. She held up the infant so the parents could see.
“Mike, get me some string out of my bag. I need to tie off the cord. Fred, I need you to hold the baby.”
He nodded and took the child, staring at her with adoration and wonder. He held her so his wife could see. “She’s beautiful.”
Mike moved in closer, amazement on his face.
Kate wasn’t sure where to tie the cord but took a guess and then cut the child free of its mother. She shook antiseptic powder on the cord. She glanced over her shoulder at Mike. His eyes were flooded with tears.
“I had no idea,” he whispered, then looked at Kate with adoration and pride. “You were wonderful.”
“I mostly just caught her. Jean did all the work.”
While Jean and Fred admired their daughter, Kate cleaned up the blood and water with a towel, then disposed of the bloodied blanket and afterbirth.
She and Mike sat on the bank, giving the parents a few moments alone. Kate felt surprisingly peaceful. She pulled her knees close to her chest. “I’ve never been part of anything like that before.”
“I had no idea,” Mike said, his voice still filled with wonder. His blue eyes found Kate. “One day I’d like to have a family. With the right woman.”
Kate knew he was talking about her. “I’d like to have children . . . some day.” She rested her chin on her knees. “But I have a lot I still want to do before I settle down.”
