Page 40 of Snow River

“You might.You could be dehydrated at the very least.You might have had a stroke.Something caused you to fall to the floor.You might have broken a bone or gotten a fracture.Bear is fetching my friend Ani.She’s the nicest doctor in the world.”

Paulina’s gaze wandered past Lila, toward the door behind her.“Your friend.I’m glad you have a friend.”

“So am I.There’s four of us, actually.We’ve been friends for many years, some of us since we were kids.”

Paulina’s jaw moved, some deep emotion hitting at a vulnerable moment.

“Maybe you can tell me about Gwennie sometime,” Lila said softly.

“I’m the only one left here.I just have to bide my time.”

Bide.Biding.

Her eyelids were falling, sleep closing in.Just in time, Lila lifted the glass from Paulina’s hand.As she did so, she noticed a name scratched on the bottom, in fine handwriting.Lifting it toward the light from the window, she peered up at it.Instead of the “Paulina” she’d expected to see, another name was written in ghostly fine cursive, ending with the line shaping a heart.

Gwen.

So her name was still very present in Paulina’s house, even if she wasn’t “supposed” to talk about her.Lila rinsed the glass and set it back on the shelf, then, out of curiosity, checked the base of the other three hand-blown glasses.Each had a different name written on it.Paulina.Gwen.Allison.The last one—Nancy.

19

Alaskan women hadto be the most stubborn people alive, if you asked Bear.

Paulina refused to leave her house for more treatment.He got no support from Lila in his mission to convince her, since Lila insisted that she trusted Ani’s judgment.

Ani couldn’t find anything wrong with Paulina other than slight dehydration and a bruise on her hip.Barring x-rays, which would require a trip to Blackbear, there was no way to confirm she hadn’t broken anything.But she showed no signs of tenderness or pain, so Ani gave her a tentative clean bill of health.

“I’m coming out to check on you every day,” Bear warned her.“No complaints.”

“Will you bring me a glass of sherry when you come?I don’t think I’ll be up for a trip to town this week.”

Great, now he was a door-to-door alcohol delivery guy.Didn’t cities have that sort of thing?Whatever.He was too worried about her to do anything but agree.

For the next few days, he made the half-hour drive to make sure Paulina was okay.He tried to pry out of her the names of any family or relatives he should contact in case she needed more help.But she flatly refused.

“This is where I die,” she told him one day.“Right here, however it happens.I’m too young to think about that yet, but I’ve always known I wouldn’t ever leave here.I made a promise.”

“What promise?To who?”

“To myself.”She lifted her chin as she swept her floor.She’d even refused to let him give her a hand with that.

“But if you can’t take care of yourself…Paulina, please.If we hadn’t come out here, you might still be lying on the floor.If it was winter already, you could have frozen to death.”

She flinched, but shook her head.“They say it’s not a terrible way to go.Like drifting off into a dream.Have you read that Alaska classic,Two Old Women?It’s based on a legend about how in times of famine, sometimes the Native Alaskans would leave behind the old people who couldn’t keep up.It was a mercy.That will be me.”

“You’re just one old woman,” he said dryly.

“Yes, well, once upon a time that wasn’t true.”

Lila had told him about the names on the glasses.How sad that two of those women had died within days of each other.

Before he left, he chopped close to a half cord of firewood for her, including some kindling, and left a nice stack piled near her hearth.He also made a big pot of hearty soup with plenty of root vegetables and greens.It would be enough to last her at least a week.

As he was leaving, he told her, “You know, I did read that book.The band regrets leaving them behind and comes back for them.I’ll tell you one thing right now.I’m not leaving you behind.”

“You’re a good man, Bear,” she murmured.She was already seated at her easel and dabbing oil paint onto a palette.“That Lila’s a lucky girl.”

“No, we’re not?—”

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