Beth Carpenter - Sweet Home Alaska

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS NEVER a good sign when your normally unflappable pilot suddenly started swearing. Volta looked up from the patient stats she’d been going over with her partner, Bridget, who stared at her in wide-eyed alarm. They peered out the windows. They were still fifteen or twenty minutes from their destination, but the sky ahead was clear. The engines were running smoothly. The wings were still attached. “What’s wrong?” Volta asked Mike through her headset.

“Mount Spurr erupted,” he growled. “Once we land in Sparks, we’re grounded until further notice.”

So, nothing wrong with the plane. That was the good news. The bad news was they had a woman in her thirty-fifth week of pregnancy with dangerously high blood pressure waiting to be transported, and they weren’t going to be able to get her to a hospital. Worse, Volta knew the patient. Lori was the school secretary and also assisted Daniel, the volunteer health aide at the Sparks village clinic. Lori’s husband, Paul, taught secondary school and coached basketball.

Last time Volta had seen Lori was at the hospital in Anchorage when Lori was on her way to an ultrasound. She’d joked to Volta that they’d timed her due date for June 2 so that she and Paul wouldn’t have to miss a day of school. But now Lori’s blood pressure was spiking, a major complication. And on top of that, Lori was expecting twins.

Mike must have been having similar thoughts. “At least that doctor is there.”

“What doctor?” Bridget asked.

“You know. The one who I’m supposed to start flying around with to all the villages next week for some sort of study. He came into Sparks by an air taxi yesterday, and the dispatcher mentioned he’d probably want a ride back with us. Doesn’t look like any of us are getting out today, though.”

“I guess not.” Regardless of why he was there, Volta was glad Lori was under a doctor’s care. Daniel did an excellent job, but preeclampsia was tricky. “What kind of doctor is he?” Hopefully not the academic kind, but Mike did mention a study.

“Something about prenatal care.”

“That sounds promising.” Volta breathed a little easier. “How long do you think we’ll be grounded?”

Mike shrugged. “Depends on how long the volcano keeps blowing, and the direction of the wind. Last time, about twenty years ago, it was two days.”

Two days. Assuming the doctor could get Lori stabilized, two days was doable. In three days, however, was her daughter Emma’s eighth birthday party. Volta wasn’t going to miss that even if she had to hitchhike home, which, considering they were fifty miles from the road system, would be quite a feat. She hoped it didn’t come to that.

Emma would be fine sleeping over with her grandparents until Volta could get back. Since they still had ten minutes before landing, Volta did a quick scan of her calendar. Tomorrow was the PTA bake sale, and she’d volunteered to bring four dozen cookies. Mom would be willing to step in, but her antisugar stance meant what she called a cookie wasn’t what most people would consider a treat. Volta’s brother’s girlfriend, on the other hand, was an excellent baker. Volta set a reminder to call Sabrina later. She returned the phone to her pocket and picked up the fax Daniel had sent when he requested transport.

Mike’s voice came through their headphones again. “Look west.” Volta and Bridget glanced out the window, where a tall gray cloud was forming.

“Ash plume?” Bridget asked.

“Yep. We’re not going to beat it by much.”

Up ahead, the tip of the cell tower over Sparks came into view. Shades of yellow green signaled spring on the tundra. A braided river hugged the south edge of the little community and twisted off to the west. It looked peaceful, as though bad things could never happen there, but they did, and that was when they called in people like Volta, Bridget and Mike.

A few minutes later, Mike landed the plane, the tires bouncing once on the airstrip before rolling to a stop. Mike turned and taxied back to the center of the strip to a parking area. Up ahead, a battered Chevy Suburban rattled along the gravel road between the village and the airstrip. It pulled to a stop beside the plane.

Mike and Bridget climbed out of the airplane and attached a ramp to the door. Volta shoved the portable incubator down the rails. Mike and Bridget picked it up and carried the equipment to the SUV, where Mayor Libby was waiting with the tailgate open. “Glad you’re here.”

Thanks to her good judgment, as well as being related to maybe 25 percent of the local population, Libby was unofficial mayor for life in the village of Sparks. She oversaw everything while running the combination post office, general store and makeshift diner next to the clinic. She also opened her home as a sort of bed-and-breakfast for the occasional visitor and was a one-woman chamber of commerce. And her Suburban doubled as the village ambulance. “Load her up.”

Mike and Bridget loaded the incubator, while Volta jumped down, moved the ramp and closed the door to the plane. Everyone climbed into the SUV. Volta hurried to join them. She slammed the passenger door closed. “How’s Lori doing?”

Libby put the car in gear and started it with a jerk. “She’s in labor. According to that visiting doctor, she has pre-something—”

“Preeclampsia.”

“Right, and so he says she’s got to deliver now. Sounds like she’s close. You might not be able to fly her out until afterward.”

“Unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to take her at all, at least not today,” Mike told her. “Spurr just blew.”

“What, when?”

“About twenty minutes ago.”

“Augh. I knew they’d had rumblings, but I thought it had quieted down. I was over with Lori and Paul and didn’t hear the warning. I’ve got to get back to the post office and find out what’s going on.” Libby whipped around a corner and headed toward the clinic. “Good thing we have a doctor in town. Seems a shame, though. Lori’s been on bed rest for a month, trying to keep from delivering early. But I guess that happens with twins.”

“Twins?” Mike hadn’t read the patient stat sheet.

“That’s right. We’re all eager to see if they’re identical or not. Paul and Lori wanted to be surprised.” Libby pulled up between the clinic and the post office. “I’d better go see what’s up with that volcano.”

“I’ll get a progress report,” Bridget told Volta. “Can you and Mike get the incubator?”

“Sure,” Volta said.

She and Mike carried the portable unit through the door of the clinic while Bridget disappeared into the second room, where they could hear Paul’s voice: “That’s it, babe. You’re doing great. Ouch—”

Volta chuckled to herself. She’d been on the receiving end of some of those hand clenches during labor. Lori was one of the gentlest people Volta knew, but sometimes it took a lot to make it through those big contractions.

“Hi, everyone. Bridget Hickel, flight nurse. Bad news, I’m afraid,” Bridget announced. “Mount Spurr blew its top, and we’re grounded.”

“The volcano erupted?” Daniel’s voice.

“Yes. We were already two-thirds of the way here, so we kept on coming. Unfortunately, we’re not flying out again until the ash cloud is gone. But we did bring an incubator. They’re carrying it in now.”

“Where do you want it?” Mike asked Volta, swinging his end around to fit it into the waiting room.

“Let’s set it here for now,” Volta suggested, nodding toward a clear space against the wall. “It sounds pretty crowded in the exam room.”

They set the unit on the floor. “I’ll head over to Zeke’s and see what he knows,” Mike told Volta. “Unless you need me.”