Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance Read Online Free PDF

drive a boat,
and shoot a gun—but I am not the least bit mechanically inclined.  My
four-wheeler might as well run on magic, propelled by fairy wings, for all I
know.  Although, I do feed it gas every once in a while, and I am pretty sure
that fumy clear fluid has something to do with its propulsion.  I know for damn
sure the thing won’t move without it.
    But anyway, I’d checked.  The tank had been full.  It wasn’t
the gas, and thus it was beyond me.
    My brothers were coming to visit in a little over two weeks,
and I knew they’d probably be able to trouble-shoot it (if they didn’t somehow actually shoot it, blow it up, or sink it in the process) but two weeks was too long.  I
still had work; I had to make that commute from cabin to boat several more
mornings before their visit, and the four-wheeler was the best way to transport
my fishing gear.
    Though I really, really didn’t want to do it, I knew exactly
who I had to call.
    “Hello?” said a cheerful tenor on the second ring.
    “Ed, hi,” I said.  “How are you?”  I wasn’t usually much for
small talk, except when trying to disguise that I was calling to ask for a
favor.
    “Helly!  I haven’t heard from you in weeks!  Good, I’m
good.  How are you?”
    I could hear him smiling on the other end, and I winced.  Ed
was a nice guy, definitely not the grungiest-looking bush rat I’d ever seen,
and he’d had a thing for me for years.  Problem was, I felt absolutely nothing
for him, and I suspected his ‘thing’ originated from the fact that I was one of
only two females under the age of 45 that resided on the river year-round.
    We did the verbal dance, and I finally got to it:  “Ed, I
was wondering…well, my four-wheeler died, and I was wondering if you could
possibly come by and take a look at it.”
    “Sure!  I’d love to,” he said.  “When?  I’m free right now.”
    See, now I just felt bad.  This sweet guy was willing to
jump on any excuse to spend time with me, and I just wanted to use him for his
mechanical skills.  Was there a special place in hell for me?  Or was this why
women eventually married—so they could have that shit on tap?
    “That’d be great,” I said.  “The four-wheeler died down at
my boat.  Meet you there in 15 minutes?”  Hopefully the fix would be quick, and
then I could get back to my cabin, and meet my deadline.
    “Sounds great!”
    I signed off, and picked up the shotgun propped next to my front
door.  There was still a bear out there.  And yes, I owned more than one gun. 
More than a few, even.  At last count, a dozen.
    It is Alaska, after all.  Gotta have your guns.
    I rescued my gear from the dirt drive, treating it with a
little more care as I hung the rods on their rack, and set the tackle box
beneath.
    Shotgun in hand, I started warily back down the trail.  The
birds were singing and flitting about in the shadows under the canopy as if a
bear hadn’t almost ‘popped’ me and painted the forest with my blood.  As I
walked, I noticed the echoing tat-tat-tat of a woodpecker becomes
something eerie when you’re freaked out.
    I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye.  I
jumped and swung my gun around—it was a squirrel.  
    To my relief, the bear didn’t make another appearance, and I
arrived at the river unscathed except by mosquitos.  When Ed pulled up, I was sitting
side-saddle on my four-wheeler, and I saw him glance at the shotgun resting in
my lap.
    “I had a close call with a bear,” I said by way of
explanation.
    He’d climbed ashore, and he paused in tossing out his
anchor.  “Just now?”
    “On the way to my cabin, maybe twenty minutes ago.”
    He gave me his serious, concerned look.  “I’ve got my
rifle.  You want me to see if—”
    Crap .  I didn’t want his concern.  “No, it’s fine.  I
got caught without my gun, but it won’t happen again.  Just know that there’s a
brown bear in the area, and he doesn’t seem to be