One week later
Fiona settled in the business-class seat of the plane headed for Boston.
Thanks to Robert, she’d been turned into a prisoner in her own home with his friends and family taking part in the persecution. No more. She’d served them with a restraining order and allowed herself a week to heal and plan. Oh, and shop online for necessities. One could purchase anything online these days.
Now, with her bruises faded to a dull mustard yellow and her arm no longer throbbing, she intended to fly to Boston to explore the city of her mother’s youth. From there she wasn’t certain, but she had time and the luxury of money before she needed to decide on her future.
A plump, elderly woman settled her bulk in the seat beside her. Her brown eyes gleamed with curiosity and intelligence as she stared at the sling supporting Fiona’s arm. “Hello, dear. You’ve been in the wars.”
“Good morning,” Fiona said, preparing for polite chitchat and calling up the social skills drummed into her by her mother. “Only another week before the doctor tells me I can ditch the sling.”
She held her breath, waiting for an interrogation, but the woman refrained from nosy questions. The talkative woman nodded and continued her chatter.
“I’m flying to Boston to visit my friend for the weekend. It’s her ninetieth birthday, otherwise I wouldn’t bother. Boston gets so cold at this time of the year. My old bones prefer the Florida heat. What about you?”
“My mother used to live in Boston. I decided it would be fun to visit the places she mentioned,” Fiona said.
“It’s a wonderful city with so much history,” the woman enthused. “I live there for part of the year and spend the colder months at our property in Florida. My husband and I did a cruise from Quebec down to Fort Lauderdale two weeks ago. It is a delightful trip and the perfect way to travel to our second home. So relaxing.”
The woman—Eden—chatted about the things they’d seen and done, the food they’d eaten, and Fiona let her mind drift, addingumsandahsduring the woman’s expectant pauses.
“Last year, we visited Churchill on the Hudson Bay to see polar bears.”
Fiona’s drifting mind jerked to a stop. “Polar bears? Did you say polar bears?”
“Yes, we visited in mid-October and caught the train from Winnipeg. It was a marvelous trip and we saw bears, foxes, owls and snow hares. A trip of a lifetime, my husband says.”
“I’ve never seen a polar bear.” Fiona thought of the other things she’d never seen or done because they hadn’t fit with Robert’s plans. “How does one go about seeing polar bears?”
“We booked a tour, but I suspect most of the tours would be full already for this year. You see the bears congregate around the town of Churchill while they wait for the ice to freeze. The minute the sea ice forms, the bears head out to catch seals. This means the viewing window is about three to four weeks. I suppose it would be possible to do it by yourself. We did meet a backpacker on the train who was traveling independently.”
For the rest of the flight, Fiona chatted to Eden about cruising and the other adventures Eden and her husband had taken over the years. One thought firmed in her mind as the plane descended, ready to land in Boston.
She wanted an adventure, damn it.
* * * * *
“The ice road will go from Gillam to Churchill,” Leif Swenson said, his deep voice reaching the four corners of the packed prefab church. He stood at the pulpit, but that was where any resemblance to a preacher stopped. He wore an old pair of faded jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. Today, he’d fastened back his long blond hair in a tail to appear tidier. “My brothers and I have planned the route and as soon as the first decent snow hits, we’ll be in business to haul freight.”
Stig, the youngest of the Swenson clan, studied the faces in the crowd and lifted his nose, using his polar bear shifter senses to “taste” the mood of the room.
The locals, both human and bear, harbored anxiety about the future. Since the massive storm had damaged the railway and the American owners had declared their intentions to walk away from the problem, the locals had suffered. The price of air freight meant most were digging into their savings to pay for the increased costs. The owners of the freight planes didn’t care. They were raking in profits at the expense of the Churchill locals.
“Will you keep your word?” someone called from the back.
“Yeah, how can we trust you? What happens if you put up the prices like the air freight companies? How can we rely on you?”
“Why would you start a business?” a more familiar voice shouted. One of Ma’s best friends. “Why not go out on the ice with your family and friends?”
Leif lifted a beefy right hand, and when the shotgun questions continued, he raised his voice. “We live here too. Churchill is our home, and we want to see it prosper.”
“Old Ignor reckons it will snow overnight,” a woman commented.
“Then we’ll be starting tomorrow,” Leif promised.
Stig’s brothers Arve, Josef and Kirk sat in silence beside him, content to let their oldest brother field the questions.
Arve, the second oldest brother, nudged Stig with his elbow and almost shoved him off the end of the pew. “Don’t worry, Runt. Your idea is brilliant and once the first load of freight is towed into town, the suspicions will fall away.”
