He looked up to find himself standing at the door of her cabin. Frowning, he glanced back at the lodge. He had stepped outside to retrieve his logbook from the front seat of the Blazer, but somehow he'd ended up here. Cursing softly, he turned around, but then an idea struck him and he decided to knock.

"Hawk?" she called, her voice muffled by the door.

Jealousy tweaked his temper. Since when had Hawk been visiting her cabin? He hadn't even known they'd met. Hawk hadn't mentioned it. Besides, what could the two of them possibly have in common? Perrie never stopped talking and Hawk never seemed to start.

"Burdy?" she called after he didn't answer.

"It's Joe," he finally said.

"What do you want?"

By the sound of her voice, Joe could tell he was the last person she wanted to see. She slowly opened the door and stood looking up at him, tugging her bulky cardigan more tightly around her as if it might offer some type of protection. Frigid air and a spindrift of snow swirled around her feet and he noticed that she'd found some new footwear, a pair of handmade mukluks.

"New boots?"

She looked down. "Hawk gave them to me," she said.

Another surge of jealousy rushed through him, but he bit back a defensive reply and forced a smile. "Then you met Hawk?" he asked.

"A few days ago. What do you want?"

He felt her impatience growing and he scrambled for a reason for his visit, certain she was about to slam the door in his face. "I was wondering if you'd like to take a little trip."

Joe cursed inwardly. That wasn't what he'd intended to say at all! What the hell was he doing, inviting her to accompany him on a supply flight? Jeez, they'd actually have to be in each other's company, trapped inside the plane, for at least a few hours.

Perrie studied him suspiciously, then frowned. "What kind of trip?"

"I'm flying up to Van Hatten Creek, about sixty or seventy miles northwest of here, to deliver supplies. And I thought you might like to come along. But you don't have to if you don't want to." He almost hoped she'd refuse. "I have to warn you that if you go along, you're going to have to promise that you won't sneak off and try to get yourself back to Fairbanks."

"Today?" she asked.

"No, next month," Joe said sarcastically. "What? You have other plans?"

He watched as she considered his invitation for a long moment. What possible alternative did she have? It wasn't as if there were that much to do in Muleshoe. Unless she and Hawk had plans… with each other. He fought back the last rush of jealousy he'd tolerate and forced another smile. He would have thought a trip out of Muleshoe would be too tempting to pass up. After all, wasn't that what she'd been angling for since she arrived?

"All right," she replied. "I guess I'll come along."

He didn't expect to feel happy about her reply, yet he did. In fact, he was looking forward to spending the day with Perrie. Perhaps they'd be able to forget the animosity that hung between them and institute a truce of sorts. Maybe then she wouldn't have to run to Hawk for companionship.

"And if you're thinking about sneaking back to Seattle, you might as well know that the nearest settlement to the Gebhardts' cabin is about thirty-five miles away over pretty rough terrain. And John Gebhardt doesn't own a plane. And there are no roads, either. So, you still want to go?"

"I'm not thinking about sneaking off," she snapped, her eyes narrowing in anger. "Why do I get the distinct impression that you don't trust me, Brennan?"

He grinned, breaking the tension between them. "Gee, Kincaid, no wonder you're such an ace reporter. Here I thought I was fooling you. Now, get your jacket and mittens. And put a few more layers of clothing on. We're leaving in five minutes. I'll wait in the truck."

He turned and strode down the front steps of the porch, leaving her to stare after him. He could almost read her thoughts. What was he up to? she was wondering. Joe Brennan wasn't the type to do something nice for Perrie Kincaid, especially since she'd been such a pain from the instant they'd met.

Perhaps he was hoping for a truce of sorts. But it would have to be an uneasy truce to begin with. If she thought for an instant he was letting down his guard, she'd be sorely mistaken. He wasn't about to go soft on his promise to Milt Freeman.

By the time he'd pulled the Blazer out of the shed and turned it around, she had made her way up to the lodge. She hopped inside the truck and slammed the door, then turned to Joe. To his utter surprise, she smiled at him. Not a cool, calculating smile, but a sweet and genuine smile, a smile that warmed his blood and made him forget his resolve.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I was starting to go crazy inside that cabin."

Without a reply, Joe put the Blazer in gear and maneuvered it up the narrow drive to the main road. He felt her gaze on him many times during their drive into Muleshoe and out to the airstrip, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

When they arrived at the airstrip, he drove right up to the Super Cub, then turned off the ignition. He watched as she searched down the row of planes for the familiar Otter that she'd arrived in, before her gaze returned to the Polar Bear Air logo on the tail of the Cub. Apprehension colored her expression, and for a moment she almost looked afraid. The Super Cub was a small plane, with room for only two, maybe three passengers, but it was the best plane for bush flying because it was able to take off and land virtually anywhere-gravel bars, frozen rivers, even on the side of a mountain.

"Nice plane," she murmured.

"You'll like the Cub. It's a great little plane."

"I think little would be the operative word here. Why are the wings fluttering like that?"

"They're made out of cloth," Joe replied.

"Cloth," she repeated.

He hopped out of the truck and ran around to her side. For a moment, he thought she might lock herself inside the Blazer and refuse to get into the plane. Obviously, there was a limit to her stubborn pride and her constant need to best him. That limit was sitting next to the truck, the stiff wind fluttering the fabric wings, the passenger cabin no larger than a carnival ride.

"You'll love it, I promise. It's a bluebird day, Kincaid. A day perfect for flying."

Perrie bit her bottom lip, then forced a smile as he helped her out of the truck and into the cramped rear seat of the plane. He slipped into the pilot's spot in front of her, and in moments the engine burst to life, the propeller a spinning blur in front of them.

They bumped down the snow-covered airstrip, gaining speed, the plane shuddering and shaking until it felt as if it would fly apart at the seams. Then, in an instant, they were airborne and the Cub rose like a bird on the wind, almost silently, save for the soft whine of the engine. He heard Perrie slowly release the breath she held and then a small sigh escaped her lips.

He turned and looked over his shoulder at her. "Are you all right?"

Her eyes were wide as she peered out the window, then looked at him. "This is incredible," she cried. "It's not like we're in a plane. I feel like a bird, like I'm flying under my own power. It's… it's so exhilarating."

Joe smiled and banked sharply to the north. "It's the only way to see Alaska, Kincaid."

"I knew it was wild, but until you see it from the sky, you don't realize how desolate it all is. It's almost frightening."

"Makes you feel kind of small, doesn't it? As if all the problems in your life are pretty insignificant."

"Yes," she said softly. "It does."

They flew for a long time in silence, then Joe banked the plane to the right and pointed out the window. "That's Van Hatten Creek," he said. "And you can see the Gebhardts' cabin in the little clearing to the south. You'll like the Gebhardts."

"We're going to land?" Perrie asked.

"Yeah. Whenever I deliver supplies, I stop and have lunch with John and Ann and their kids. Stuck out in the bush like this, they enjoy the company. And Ann's a helluva cook."

"But where are we going to land?" Perrie asked.

Joe glanced back to see her worriedly looking out the window for a break in the thick wooded terrain. "Right down there," he said. "Between the cabin and the creek."

"What? There's not enough room to land a plane down there. I thought we were going to throw the supplies out the window. I didn't know we'd be risking our lives on this trip."

"Sweetheart, I could put this plane down on the roof of their cabin if I had a mind to. You just watch. Like a walk in the park."

"This is no time to prove a point, Brennan. Just put the plane down where you normally do. And try not to kill us in the process."

He glanced back to see her fumbling with her seat belt. "Don't you trust me, Kincaid?"

"Not as far as I can spit," she replied.

Joe chuckled, then banked the plane to the left and began a sharp descent over the treetops. He heard Perrie cry out in alarm as they dropped out of the sky, the skis almost skimming the spruce forest below. And then, a tiny screech as they touched down. And finally, a long moan that stopped as soon as the plane did.

He unbuckled his seat belt and twisted around, only to see the color gradually return to Perrie's pale face. "What'd I tell you, Kincaid. like a walk in the park."


Perrie stumbled out of the plane on wobbly knees, grateful there was solid ground beneath her feet. She couldn't believe how they'd simply dropped out of the sky onto a tiny patch of snow. The plane had barely touched the ground before it skidded to a stop just yards from a thick stand of spruce. She'd been told that Joe Brennan was a great pilot, and now she'd seen proof.