when she recognized a telephone booth. In the middle of the Arctic, at the very top of the world, it was comforting to know she could call home.
A burly man who resembled a lumberjack barreled out of the mobile structure. Abbey lost sight of him, then heard the door on the side of the aircraft open.
“Howdy,” he called, sticking his head and upper shoulders inside. “Welcome to Hard Luck. I’m John Henderson.”
“Hello,” Abbey called back.
John disappeared abruptly to be replaced by the head and shoulders of another outdoorsy-looking man. “I’m Ralph Ferris,” he said. Three other faces crowded in around the opening.
“For crying out loud,” Sawyer snapped, “would you guys let the passengers out of the plane first? This is ridiculous.” He squeezed past her, unsnapped the seat belt secured around Scott and Susan and helped them out.
Abbey was the last person to disembark. As she moved down the three steps, she found all five men standing at attention, as if prepared for a military inspection. Their arms hung straight at their sides, their shoulders were squared, spines straight. If any of them were surprised to see two children, it didn’t show.
Muttering to himself, Sawyer stalked past Abbey and into the mobile office, leaving her alone with her children. He slammed the door, apparently eager to be rid of them.
Abbey felt irritation swirl through her. How could he just abandon her? How could he be so rude? What had she done that was so terrible? Well, she could be rude, too!
“Welcome to Hard Luck.” Her angry thoughts were swept aside as a tall, thin older woman with gray hair cut boyishly short stepped forward to greet her. “I’m Pearl Inman,” she said, shaking Abbey’s hand enthusiastically. “I can’t tell you how pleased we are to have a librarian in Hard Luck.”
“Thank you. These are my children, Scott and Susan. We’re happy to be here.” Abbey noted that Pearl seemed as unsurprised by the arrival of two children as the pilots were.
“You must be exhausted.”
“We’re fine,” Abbey said politely, which was true; she felt a resurgence of energy.
“You got any other kids in this town?” Scott asked.
“Are there any girls my age?” Susan added.
“My heavens, yes. We had twenty-five students last year. I’ll have one of the boys introduce you around later, Scott.” She turned her attention to Susan. “How old are you?”
“Seven.”
Pearl’s smile deepened. “I believe Chrissie Harris is seven. Her father works for the Parks Department and serves as our PSO on the side. PSO stands for public safety officer—sort of our policeman. Chrissie will be mighty glad to have a new friend.”
“What about me?” Scott asked. “I’m nine.”
“Ronny Gold’s about that age. You’ll meet him later. He’s got a bike and likes to ride all over town on it, so there’s no missing him.”
Scott seemed appeased. “Are there any Indians around here?” he asked next.
“A few live in the area—Athabascans. You’ll meet them sometime,” Pearl assured him.
Looking around, Abbey felt a large mosquito land on her arm. She swatted it away. Susan had already received one bite and was swatting at another mosquito.
“I see you’ve been introduced to the Alaska state bird, the mosquito,” Pearl said, then chuckled. “They’re pretty thick around here in June and July. A little bug spray works wonders.”
“I’ll get some later,” Abbey said. She hadn’t realized mosquitoes were such a problem in Alaska.
“Come on—let’s go to the restaurant and I’ll introduce you to Ben and the others,” Pearl said, urging them across the road toward a building that resembled a house with a big porch. A huge pair of moose antlers adorned the front. “This is the Hard Luck Café. Ben Hamilton’s the owner, and he’s been cooking up a storm all day. I sure hope you’re hungry.”
Abbey grinned broadly. “I could eat a moose.”
“Good,” Pearl said, grinning
A burly man who resembled a lumberjack barreled out of the mobile structure. Abbey lost sight of him, then heard the door on the side of the aircraft open.
“Howdy,” he called, sticking his head and upper shoulders inside. “Welcome to Hard Luck. I’m John Henderson.”
“Hello,” Abbey called back.
John disappeared abruptly to be replaced by the head and shoulders of another outdoorsy-looking man. “I’m Ralph Ferris,” he said. Three other faces crowded in around the opening.
“For crying out loud,” Sawyer snapped, “would you guys let the passengers out of the plane first? This is ridiculous.” He squeezed past her, unsnapped the seat belt secured around Scott and Susan and helped them out.
Abbey was the last person to disembark. As she moved down the three steps, she found all five men standing at attention, as if prepared for a military inspection. Their arms hung straight at their sides, their shoulders were squared, spines straight. If any of them were surprised to see two children, it didn’t show.
Muttering to himself, Sawyer stalked past Abbey and into the mobile office, leaving her alone with her children. He slammed the door, apparently eager to be rid of them.
Abbey felt irritation swirl through her. How could he just abandon her? How could he be so rude? What had she done that was so terrible? Well, she could be rude, too!
“Welcome to Hard Luck.” Her angry thoughts were swept aside as a tall, thin older woman with gray hair cut boyishly short stepped forward to greet her. “I’m Pearl Inman,” she said, shaking Abbey’s hand enthusiastically. “I can’t tell you how pleased we are to have a librarian in Hard Luck.”
“Thank you. These are my children, Scott and Susan. We’re happy to be here.” Abbey noted that Pearl seemed as unsurprised by the arrival of two children as the pilots were.
“You must be exhausted.”
“We’re fine,” Abbey said politely, which was true; she felt a resurgence of energy.
“You got any other kids in this town?” Scott asked.
“Are there any girls my age?” Susan added.
“My heavens, yes. We had twenty-five students last year. I’ll have one of the boys introduce you around later, Scott.” She turned her attention to Susan. “How old are you?”
“Seven.”
Pearl’s smile deepened. “I believe Chrissie Harris is seven. Her father works for the Parks Department and serves as our PSO on the side. PSO stands for public safety officer—sort of our policeman. Chrissie will be mighty glad to have a new friend.”
“What about me?” Scott asked. “I’m nine.”
“Ronny Gold’s about that age. You’ll meet him later. He’s got a bike and likes to ride all over town on it, so there’s no missing him.”
Scott seemed appeased. “Are there any Indians around here?” he asked next.
“A few live in the area—Athabascans. You’ll meet them sometime,” Pearl assured him.
Looking around, Abbey felt a large mosquito land on her arm. She swatted it away. Susan had already received one bite and was swatting at another mosquito.
“I see you’ve been introduced to the Alaska state bird, the mosquito,” Pearl said, then chuckled. “They’re pretty thick around here in June and July. A little bug spray works wonders.”
“I’ll get some later,” Abbey said. She hadn’t realized mosquitoes were such a problem in Alaska.
“Come on—let’s go to the restaurant and I’ll introduce you to Ben and the others,” Pearl said, urging them across the road toward a building that resembled a house with a big porch. A huge pair of moose antlers adorned the front. “This is the Hard Luck Café. Ben Hamilton’s the owner, and he’s been cooking up a storm all day. I sure hope you’re hungry.”
Abbey grinned broadly. “I could eat a moose.”
“Good,” Pearl said, grinning
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