because it had been too painful for her, and Evelyn hadn’t wanted to make her grandmother upset. Her grandmother had blamed Alaska for taking her son away, for her having had to disinherit him. Alaska had ruined her father’s promising surgical career.
Evelyn had still loved Alaska, but had said nothing to her grandmother about her love for her former home. She had always been worried her grandmother would send her away, so she’d just tried to please the woman.
She hadn’t wanted to be alone. She hadn’t wanted to be sent away again.
That trip to Boston... She’d known then what alone felt like. It had been terrible, and she’d never wanted to feel that way again.
Except now you are alone!
And it was her fault again this time.
She’d been with Nathan for two years, but her career had always been more important to her. Nathan had a great surgical practice in Minnesota, and he wanted to settle down and get married. Only that was the last thing that Evelyn wanted.
She didn’t want a family. One that could be taken away from her in an instant. One she didn’t deserve.
There was a part of her that should have felt sorrow over losing Nathan, but she felt numb and a little bit relieved.
He’d accused her once of being cold. And maybe she was.
Of course being cold meant that you kept your heart intact. Not feeling was her armor. Her protection against pain. Her grandmother had taught her to guard her heart in order to avoid pain. Emotions were for the weak. And it served her well as a surgeon.
She took a deep breath and looked out through the small window to see Wolf’s Harbor come into view through the misty summer rain that was clinging to the mountains.
Her heart skipped a beat and her palms were sweaty, but she wasn’t sure if that was from the turbulence or from seeing the place where she’d been born. A place she’d never thought she’d see again.
The sight of the boats moored at the town dock and even the vessels that were out on the eerily calm water made her stomach flip in anticipation. It was just as beautiful as she remembered.
For the first year of her life in Boston she’d dreamed about Wolf’s Harbor, dreamed about her father, and then what she remembered had begun to fade as she’d integrated into life in Boston.
Her grandmother had been distant and mourning her son’s decision to head to Alaska, and her grandmother’s grief and bitterness had seeped into their life in Boston. So they’d traveled a lot. Boston had been their home base, but she had always felt her grandmother had traveled so she wouldn’t have a moment to grieve for her son. Boston might have been a base, but it had never felt like home.
She’d excelled in school, to please her grandmother, and had gone to Dartmouth and then Harvard Medical School. During her last year at Harvard her grandmother had died, but Evelyn’s time there had seemed to please her. The more Evelyn had excelled, the more her grandmother had seemed happy with her.
She’d done her residency in Seattle, and earned a fellowship in obstetrics and neonatal medicine. She’d been searching for a new challenge when she’d been contacted by a surgeon friend in Sitka, who had begged her to come and take over her practice while she went on a three-month honeymoon.
Evelyn had thought it would be good—she just hadn’t had any idea that part of the practice was a rotation in Wolf’s Harbor that her friend shared with a couple other OB/GYNs and that she worked there every three months. And the day Evelyn had landed in Sitka had been the day she was to start her three-month rotation in Wolf’s Harbor.
At first she’d thought of not going, of letting her friend down, but she longed to see Wolf’s Harbor again. To help where she hadn’t been able to help before.
She owed it to her father.
To her home.
Not your home.
She had to remind herself of that. There was no place for her here. Not anymore. All she had to do was step in for the next three months and then she could leave with a lighter conscience.
Dr. Pearson, the OB/GYN who was finishing his rotation in Wolf’s Harbor, would be waiting for her at the town’s clinic, where he’d hand over the keys to the clinic, and the furnished apartment they used during rotation, and would show her around before he drove back to Juneau.
The plane landed with a bump on the small gravel airstrip and the props slowed down as the Cessna taxied to the terminal. When it had come to a stop and shut down, the pilot hopped into gear, opening the door as the ground crew pushed over the stairwell, and Evelyn could feel the hatches being opened to unload the cargo.
The two other occupants—both men—grabbed their duffel bags and headed off the plane.
Evelyn took a deep breath. You got this.
She slung her laptop bag over her shoulder and unbuckled. When she stepped out of the Cessna she was hit by the scent of salt water, rain and damp. There was a clanging from the buoys out on the mist-shrouded water. It hadn’t changed.
Home.
Evelyn closed her eyes to stop the tears that were threatening.
“Come here, Evie.”
Her father held open his arms and she ran to him, pressing her face against the soft flannel jacket he wore.
“I love you, Daddy.”
Her dad kissed the top of her head and smiled, his blue-gray eyes twinkling.
“I love you, too, Evie.”
“Do you need help, miss?”
Evelyn shook the memory away and glanced down to see the pilot, in a flannel jacket that was similar to the one her father had used to wear, holding out his hand to her.
She straightened her spine and beamed brightly at him, taking his hand as he helped her down onto the Tarmac.
“Do you need help with your luggage?” the pilot asked.
“No, thank you. I’m okay.” Evelyn shifted the weight of her carry-on bag on her shoulder as she walked onto the chip-sealed portion of the airstrip. She picked up her suitcase from outside the plane, where it had been unloaded, and popped up the handle to roll it.
A gust of wind tossed her hair in her face and she cursed herself for not tying it back before she headed for the small terminal.
I wonder if anyone will remember who I am?
A knot formed in her stomach—because it had been twenty years since she had been taken away...twenty years since her father died. She remembered some faces, but she was sure most folks were long gone.
Like her maternal grandmother.
And her classmates at the small village school wouldn’t remember her.
It was for the best that they didn’t.
It was her fault her father had left
