Sarah Varland - Alaskan Hideout

Emma felt them stop, heard the reassuring sounds of Luke asking what was going on.

And then everything went black.

* * *

Sirens whirred in the distance and, from the sound of it, they were passing right by the lodge, tearing down the Moose Haven cut-off in the direction of the Seward Highway. As Moose Haven wasn’t a big city, sirens weren’t an everyday occurrence but accidents happened on the highway often enough that Tyler Dawson wasn’t surprised by the sound.

Out of habit, he checked his phone for text messages he might have missed. Due to the lodge’s proximity to some of the common accident sites and Tyler’s basic EMT certification, his brother, Noah, the police chief of Moose Haven, would sometimes ask for his help. He expected that would be even more true now that he’d graduated from the police academy in Sitka and was technically a Moose Haven Reserve officer. Not a title he’d have ever expected from himself, or one he’d particularly wanted, but when family asked you to do something, you did it. At least Tyler did. And Noah had asked him to do it.

He looked at the phone’s screen.

Nothing.

Instead of heading out to help, he said a quick prayer for whoever was involved then went back to the financial statements he’d been going over. He winced at the first bill he looked at, cringed at the second and by the third was ready to close the books and give up on bills for the day.

However he looked at it, Moose Haven Lodge was in trouble. He’d taken over from his parents not quite eight years ago and at first it had gone well. Then the recession that had hit the Lower 48 had finally made its way to Alaska and the lodge had started to feel the strain. Their returning clients weren’t able to keep vacationing the way they had been in the past.

Tyler knew what the problem was—they needed more clients—so he’d trimmed expenses where he needed to and the lodge ran well. He was good at his job.

He just wasn’t as good at getting the word out and, with the competition bigger lodges brought in, he was struggling.

If you’re interested in a struggling mountain lodge, God, I could use some help.

Tyler meant the prayer, meant it with every fiber of his being this morning, amid the bills. However, at the same time, he had to wonder to what degree God was invested in those kinds of details. Had God created him? Yes. Did He care about him? Yes.

But about details like this?

Tyler didn’t know. The last time he’d expected God to intervene in the day-to-day details of his life was when he’d prayed he and his college girlfriend could reconcile somehow.

Eight years this spring and they’d never spoken again.

Tyler’s phone beeped and he glanced at the message. Noah needed help at the wreck. It was just about two miles from the lodge.

He left a note on the front desk for the tourists he expected to have checking in soon and headed out to his car. In small-town Alaska, communities had to pull together and help each other.

Two miles later Tyler winced at the damage to the small white car—a rental, he guessed from the fact that besides having its back end smashed in, it looked like hordes of others that invaded the Kenai Peninsula area every summer. He prayed again for whoever was inside, then parked his car.

“Female, late twenties, early thirties maybe,” Noah said as he approached. “She’s in bad shape, but the fire department already has her on the way to the hospital. What I need your help with most is the kid. He needs to be checked out by a doctor, though thankfully he looks okay. But the poor boy’s terrified.”

“Got it.”

Tyler stepped toward the wreckage.

Noah put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

He looked up at his brother, not bothering to hide his annoyance. Did he want his help or not?

“Tyler...the woman...”

“Yes?”

Noah exhaled. “I looked at her license for ID. It’s Emma Bass.”

Tyler thought he might have stopped breathing. Never mind his own certification, he needed an EMT to look at him right now. Spasms in his chest, palms sweaty. What was she doing in Alaska, near his lodge? She’d broken up with him with little explanation when everything had been going well...too well for their own good at one point...

Kid. Noah had said there was a kid in the car. Now Tyler knew he’d stopped breathing.

He was a smart guy. It didn’t take long for shock to turn to full-blown panic as other pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

He was just about to ask how old the boy was when Noah said, “He says he’s seven.”

Tyler would guess he’d be eight in—he did some quick figuring from the worst mistake he’d ever made, the one time he hadn’t acted honorably, the way he’d been taught was right—December.

“Wait.” Noah gave him a sharp look. “When did you graduate college and break up with Emma?”

“She broke up with me.”

“When, Tyler?”

“Eight years ago last spring.” He met his brother’s eyes, squaring his shoulders, ready for whatever his sibling was going to dish out. He deserved it.

Noah still didn’t say anything, so Tyler lowered his voice and muttered, “Yes, okay? Yes, he could be mine.” Could be? More like probably was , hard as it was to wrap his mind around. He knew Emma wasn’t the kind of woman who’d have been unfaithful. This was Tyler’s kid, he knew it as certainly as he knew just about anything else in life.

Tyler moved closer to the boy.

“When’s your birthday?” He tried to keep his voice light so it would sound like he was just making casual conversation.

“December 17.”

Tyler blinked as the kid watched him with eyes he knew looked remarkably like his own. Green. Mossy green.

This was his kid.

And Emma hadn’t told him.

He swallowed hard. “I’m just going to check you out and make sure you’re okay and then we’ll take you to the hospital to wait on your mom.”

The boy nodded, eyes wide. “Okay.”

Tyler went through the motions of a typical post-car-crash checkup, doing his best as he heard the words echoing in his mind over and over. His son. His son. His son.

“Is my mom going to be okay?”

“They’re taking great care of her.” Tyler hadn’t been able to focus his mind enough to consider whether or not Emma was seriously injured. Surely, Noah would have said...

Still he didn’t want to lie to the boy.

But hope won out. “I think she’ll be okay.” She had to be. Tyler needed to talk to her. The questions he needed to ask her were only growing by the minute.

Only then did he realize he’d never asked the kid his name. He’d been so focused on learning his birthday to confirm what he already knew in his mind.

“What’s your name, buddy?”

“I’m Luke Dawson.”

Tyler needed to talk to Emma.

Right now.

He took a deep breath and tried to stay calm for the kid, who he’d decided wasn’t going to sit in some cold hospital waiting room. So Emma hadn’t told him about Luke. A huge deal, one he’d have to sort through in his mind, but he had other things to worry about right now. Like why the damage to the car looked like another vehicle had been involved. The back end of the Toyota was smashed in and some kind of dark paint, black or blue, had left streaks on the side.

“I’ll be right back, okay, Luke?”

He stepped away from the car and walked toward his brother. “Where’s the other car?”

“Hit and run.”

“Is something going to be done about that?”

Noah raised his eyebrows and Tyler checked himself. It wasn’t the best idea for him to be telling his brother how to do his job. He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I just want this dealt with.” Uneasiness churned in his stomach along with no fewer than ten other emotions he couldn’t name at the moment. Emma. A son. Car wreck.