Beth Carpenter - An Alaskan Proposal

Sabrina groaned. “That pun is more painful than my head wound.” Everyone laughed, including Leith.

Before the day was done, Sabrina had been bandaged and splinted, and had her arm put into a sling. Also, while Leith was busy with some of the kids practicing CPR on a dummy, she’d explained to three girls who asked how she’d created the ombré effect on her fingernails and told them where to find an instructional video on the internet.

At the end of class, Leith held up some papers. “Great job, everybody. For me to certify you in first aid, you’ll need to pass this test. So, before we start, let’s review. What’s the first thing to do if you think an older child is choking? Kara?”

“Ask them.”

“Good.” Leith moved on through all the lessons. Between Leith’s goofy memory aids and the practice sessions, these kids had it down. Leith really was a good teacher. Sabrina only hoped she would be able to learn as much about the outdoors tomorrow as he’d taught these kids today. Because if she could, it was just possible that this unusual plan of hers might work.

LEITH SWALLOWED THE last of the coffee in his travel mug while he waited for the light to turn green. He’d been a little surprised to find that Sabrina was living in this part of town. Not that there was anything wrong with this particular neighborhood, but most of the houses here were old and small. Based on the way she dressed and the amount of money she must spend on manicures, he would have thought she’d have chosen a shiny new apartment in a trendy part of town.

She’d surprised him yesterday, too, when she’d accepted her role as training dummy with good grace. In fact, the melodramatic way she’d acted out the injuries really helped keep the kids focused. The other day at the office, when she’d declared herself a hard worker, he’d had doubts. In his experience, hard workers didn’t talk about it; they just did it. But he was starting to think she might be the exception to that rule. He hoped so, anyway, because if he was going to get through all the lessons he had planned for today, she was going to have to put in some effort.

It still bothered him that she was hiding her lack of experience from her employer. He’d been lied to and taken advantage of, and it stank. But she was trying to acquire the skills she’d claimed to have. And was her deception any worse than what he was doing, having Sabrina pretend to be his date to the wedding?

Dinner at his sister’s had gone just about the way he’d expected. Volta, with all the subtlety of a locomotive, had seated him next to the new nurse at the table and kept throwing out random pieces of information designed to force them to bond. “Leith, Marley’s blood type is B negative, just like yours and mine. That’s only two percent of the population. Interesting coincidence, huh?”

What did you say to something like that? Marley had seemed like a perfectly nice person, but after going through a divorce three years ago, Leith had decided the safest route was to avoid getting involved with women, period. So, when Volta made a point of asking him if he had a date for the wedding in front of Marley so that he’d almost be forced to invite her, it had given him great satisfaction to assure her that, yes, he did have a date. He’d almost laughed out loud at the expression on his sister’s face when her plot failed. Fortunately, Marley didn’t look all that brokenhearted. She was probably glad to have gotten out of Volta’s trap unscathed as well.

Leith couldn’t understand why his sister was so fired up to find him a girlfriend. As far as he knew, Volta had been on less than a dozen dates since her daughter, Emma, had been born seven years ago, seven months after Volta’s husband had died in an avalanche. Leith worried about his sister sometimes, but he didn’t push her. So why did she feel entitled to push him?

Anyway, this nondate with Sabrina would take care of that problem for the time being, and all he had to do was teach her a few basic camping skills. How hard could that be?

He found her apartment building, a weathered fourplex split-level. Her door was down a half flight of steps. He knocked. A minute later, she opened the door a few inches, pulling a restraining chain tight. “Oh, hi. You didn’t have to come get me. I thought you’d just call my cell.”

“No, I...” He’d been lectured by his mother that a gentleman always walked a lady to and from her doorway. Of course, she’d meant on a date, and this wasn’t a date. “Never mind. Are you ready to go?”

“I think so. Let me grab some yogurt for lunch.”

“No need. I brought food to cook. That’s part of the lesson.”

“Oh, thank you. In that case, I’m ready.” She closed the door to unhook the chain and slipped out before he could see into her apartment. Today Sabrina wore tight jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and an Orson-brand fleece vest. She carried a small leather backpack that was obviously more for looks than practicality, since it wouldn’t last a day in the rain. At least she was wearing enough layers this time, and the sky was clear today. The jeans weren’t the most practical, although he had to admit, they fit her well. She carefully locked the door and turned to him with a smile. “I appreciate you doing this for me.”

It was a disarming smile, but three years ago, he’d developed immunity. “No problem, as long as you keep up your end of the bargain. Remember, you still have to do that wedding next week.”

“Yeah, but weddings are fun.”

“Maybe from your perspective. From mine, camping is fun. Weddings are a pain. But one of my best friends is getting married, so I got stuck as a groomsman. I even have to wear a suit.”

Sabrina laughed. “You’re a true friend to sacrifice so much. Where are we going?”

“I thought we might head over to Ekulna Lake, do a little hiking and set up a mock camp. Sound okay?”

“You’re in charge.”

Sabrina approached his ancient Land Cruiser without the usual comments about what a dinosaur it was. One point in her favor. Whatever she drove probably required premium fuel.

As they approached, Tal jumped up from her spot on the back seat and stuck her nose out the window he’d left open a few inches, madly wagging her tail.

“Oh, you’ve got a dog! Hi, sweetie,” Sabrina crooned. “What’s your name?”

“Talkeetna.” Leith reached past Sabrina to wrench open the stubborn passenger-side door. “Tal for short.”

“Hello, Tal.” Sabrina climbed into the seat and twisted around to reach for the dog. “Oh, my goodness, your ears are so soft. You’re just a big love bug, aren’t you?” All the while, she was rubbing Tal’s head, and Tal was eating it up, thumping her tail against the seat back. A long thread of drool dangled from her lip, but if Sabrina saw it, it didn’t faze her. “Is Tal a boy or a girl?”

“Girl.” Leith slammed Sabrina’s door closed and went around to the driver’s seat. “Better buckle up.”

Sabrina fastened her seat belt. “She’s so soft and fluffy. How long have you had her?”

“Almost six years. I got her as a puppy.” Not long before Nicole decided she needed a graduate degree from an out-of-state college and moved in with a guy in Seattle who she’d insisted was only a roommate. Leith couldn’t believe he’d fallen for that story. He patted Tal’s head. Happily, this female in his life had remained loyal.

“I love dogs, but I’ve never had one,” Sabrina said.

“You didn’t have a dog when you were a kid?”

“No.” Sabrina’s effervescence lost some bubbles. “We couldn’t af— Have pets.”

Her mother probably didn’t want dog hair on her nice furniture. Everything about Sabrina—the trendy clothes, shiny hair and flashy fingernails, which, he noticed, were pale green today to match her shirt—shouted upscale. Any outdoor activities she’d experienced growing up probably took place at the country club. Some people would envy her. He wasn’t one of them. His brief experience in high school with country-club life only made him more appreciative of what Alaska had to offer.