Beth Carpenter - An Alaskan Proposal

You’d think all those hours at the gym would have prepared her for this, but it turned out running on a treadmill and hiking rough trails weren’t quite the same. Her muscles complained, forcefully. Still, she couldn’t quit, or everyone would know she was an impostor. Somehow, Sabrina continued to put one brand-new hiking boot in front of the other. Twenty minutes later, they were still trudging uphill, the rain was still coming down and everyone around her was still acting happy about it. What was with these people? Every place she’d ever worked had a resident whiner—someone who made a federal case out of running out of staples or complained about the quality of the coffee—but she hadn’t heard a peep of dissension from this crowd.

Then Clara, who was at least fifteen years older and probably thirty pounds heavier than Sabrina, broke out into a song, but she still didn’t slow down. Several others joined in. How did they have enough breath for singing and climbing? Maybe all of Sabrina’s new coworkers were animatronic robots. That would explain a lot.

Just about the time her legs were seriously considering a mutiny, they crested the top of a rise and saw the company van and another truck parked beside a canopy emblazoned with the Orson Outfitters name. “We’re first!” Clara called out. Everyone cheered. Sabrina cheered along with them, just happy she didn’t have to climb anymore.

The van’s driver was relaxing in a folding chair beneath the canopy. Sabrina would have tried to snag that job, but the woman who’d volunteered to drive all the supplies to the rendezvous point looked to be about eleven months pregnant.

Two guys dressed in matching navy rain jackets were unloading something from the back of a pickup with a Learn & Live logo on the door. What were they doing here? Maybe they were part of the special surprise Walter had promised the group.

Sabrina collapsed onto a big rock and swallowed the last of the water from her bottle. Clara plopped down beside her. Sabrina was lucky to be training under Clara in her first assignment. Clara was one of those people who always assumed the best about everyone, which meant she tended to attribute Sabrina’s lapses to rookie jitters rather than ignorance. “Great climb, huh?”

Sabrina nodded. “Challenging.”

“Oh, yeah. We were determined to get here first this year. Walter’s group usually beats us up. Oh, look. Here they come.” Clara bounced up and hurried over to the other trail to deliver some good-natured razzing.

Sabrina watched from where she was. A brief expression of disappointment crossed Walter’s face when he saw their group had already arrived, but he grinned when Clara teased him. Their store manager was quite a character, about five-four with a walrus mustache and an oversize personality.

He’d insisted that Sabrina call him Walter when they met on her first day and pumped her hand with such enthusiasm he’d all but sprained her elbow. “Great to have you here, Sabrina. I have high hopes for this new management-trainee program. We’ve been telling Corporate for years the managers need to understand how the stores work before they can make good decisions at the corporate level, and they finally listened.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad to be here.”

“Trust me, you drew the best assignment.” He straightened the chunk of turquoise that secured a bolo tie around the collar of his plaid shirt. “I know you’re on probation and that only the top half of the trainees will move on to the next level of management, but you don’t need to worry. You’ll learn everything you need to know from this crew. Anchorage has been number one in sales for the past three years running, and we’re not planning to surrender that title anytime soon. The secret to our success is passion. The people who work here love the outdoors, and they enjoy sharing that enthusiasm with our customers. That’s my main criteria when I choose employees.”

Sabrina could certainly see Walter’s passion for his job. She just hoped she could convince him she shared his excitement. “I can’t wait to get started.”

“Good. I think first, we’ll put you on the register with Clara, so you can get an overview of the store before we move you to one of the departments. How does that sound?”

“Great idea.” Sabrina had worked retail all through high school and college, so running a cash register would be a piece of cake, and would give her time to study up on the rest of the store.

“Welcome aboard.”

It turned out she’d arrived just in time for the big annual team-builder. Today only involved half the store employees. The other half, who were working at the store today, would be doing their team-builder tomorrow. Sabrina would lay odds that tomorrow Walter’s group would be the first to the top of the hill. He clearly didn’t like to lose.

Walter and some of the others were shedding their raincoats. The rain seemed to have stopped. Good—Sabrina could get out of this plastic wrap. Everyone else seemed to have jackets made from the latest high-tech waterproof fabric. She’d sold a couple of them in the store this week. Sabrina didn’t even own rainwear. Well, technically there was that vintage Laura Wilkes umbrella she’d gotten at an estate sale, but Sabrina considered that more art than protection. Dealing with rain hadn’t been a big part of her life as a fashion buyer in Scottsdale. But that was then.

Now Sabrina was doing the nature thing in Alaska, and she wasn’t equipped for it. Fortunately, Clara, being the experienced mom she was, carried extra folding ponchos in her glove compartment and had loaned Sabrina one at the beginning of the hike. It had done the job, but Sabrina was glad the rain had finally stopped and she could peel it off.

She stretched, and then turned to see one of the guys from Learn & Live looking toward her. Even from this distance she could see the intense blue of his eyes, and those eyes were sweeping over her from head to toe. He frowned. Sabrina did a casual scan to see if she’d spilled something on her clothes, but her leggings seemed fine. So did the French blue pima cotton cardigan, her favorite sweater. It could have been a little thicker, though, she realized as a sudden breeze cut through the knit. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm them. When she looked up again, the guy had turned away and was talking with Walter.

Now that everyone was removing their raincoats, Sabrina realized most of them had on gray or blue cargo pants and some sort of fleece vest in a primary color. Nobody else wore anything close to leggings. Oops. Sabrina prided herself on always dressing appropriately, and it seemed the appropriate things to wear on company hikes were clothes from the company store. It looked like boxy vests and ugly pants were in her future.

Walter called for everyone’s attention, congratulating Sabrina’s group for being first up the mountain. Judging from the applause and cheering, it was a big deal. He called them all forward and hung medals around their necks. When it was Sabrina’s turn, he patted her shoulder. “Nice job for someone who’s only been here four days. Congratulations, Sabrina.”

“Thanks.” All she’d done was follow the rest of her team along the trail, but it was still nice to be recognized. And it was nice that he remembered her name. It had taken her old boss three weeks to quit calling her Semolina, and she was never quite sure if it was deliberate. The medals were just novelty items—a plastic disk painted gold with the word winner stamped on it—but it was all good fun.

Once Walter had given out the medals, he gestured to the two men from the Learn & Live truck to come over. They’d both removed their raincoats and were wearing long-sleeved zip-necks under fleece vests, with the same logo as the truck embroidered on the chest. The first guy towered a foot over Walter. With his wavy blond hair and relaxed grin, he looked like he’d just put away his surfboard. The other guy, the one who’d been frowning at Sabrina before, seemed more serious. He was a couple of inches shorter than his coworker, which would put him around six feet, with brown hair and those incredible blue eyes. Walter’s cheeks plumped over his mustache. “Everyone, I want you to meet Leith Jordan and Erik Peterman, from Learn & Live. They’re going to be giving us a demonstration on survival skills.”