“That’s what I thought,” Christian said.
Ace pulled the truck around the downed tree and then slowed down.
“I’ll come back and get that later,” Christian said.
“We need to get it out of the road.” Ace started to pull to the side.
“Don’t worry about it. For now, would you take me to North Reach Alcove?”
Well, if Christian wanted to handle it later, then he could. “Sure.” Ace turned back onto the rutted main road that stitched the mountain toward lower ground. “You didn’t seem surprised I mentioned the doc.”
“I’m not. The two of you didn’t show up at the tavern last night where the rest of the town was,” Christian said thoughtfully, gaze on a patch of sunlight on the truck hood.
“I’m well aware of that.”
Christian cocked his head. “So your grand plan of staying away from her until you could fly again flew out the window?”
Ace let out a stiff breath, one shoulder rising then falling. “That wasn’t my plan.”
Christian used silence like most people did oxygen.
Ace rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine. Maybe that was my plan.”
“As a plan, it wasn’t horrible,” Christian allowed. “But maybe you just took too long on the flying part.”
Ace’s gaze flicked over to where the forest opened low and wide. “Maybe. I figured my brain would just work itself out.”
“That makes sense.”
Crap. Ace was seriously screwed up if Christian hadn’t taken the opening to make fun of his brain. “May’s one of a kind.”
“I know. The whole town needs the doc,” Christian agreed. “Turn right here.”
Ace did so, taking the one road toward the North Reach Alcove. The area was too difficult to reach in the winter, so nobody lived out here all year. In fact, almost all of the palatial cabins were just rentals. Tension ticked down his spine. “Why are we here?”
“Just keep driving,” Christian said.
Ace looked at the houses on stilts arced around the small bend in the river. One massive cabin sat silent at the far end, where the Dalika river rushed by. It was owned by the Kayrs family, who only visited a couple of months in the summer to fish. They didn’t rent the house out but were generous with their funds to local businesses when in town.
“Drive to the east end of the cove,” Christian said.
Ace bit his tongue and glanced beyond the cabins on stilts. Wide decks faced the water with Adirondack chairs lined up in hopeful rows. He idly wondered which one the senator was renting. He’d be more than happy when that guy left town. “Christian?”
“Trust me.”
Ace followed the narrow strip of cracked pavement as it curved closer to the shoreline. More houses lifted on pilings passed by, some with kayaks stacked beneath them.
At the far end, close to the rushing river, sat a newer dock, its boards still pale and not yet silvered by weather. Tied to it was a sleek floatplane that hadn’t seen many winters yet. The paint gleamed white with a dark navy stripe running clean along the fuselage.
“Christian, what are you doing?” Ace asked.
“Just come look at her,” Christian muttered.
Ace parked and cut the engine. The ticking of cooling metal filled the brief silence. Christian hopped out and opened the back door for Tika, who leapt down and shook once before trotting ahead, claws clicking on the planks.
Dread pooled low in Ace’s gut. He slid out of the truck and followed his brother over the rough rocks and onto the dock.
Up close, she was even more impressive. “She’s a Cessna 208 Caravan on amphibious floats,” he murmured, more to himself than his brother. The high wing stretched broad and confident overhead. The windows were large and tinted, the nose clean and aerodynamic. The cockpit glass was modern with the digital panels visible through the windshield. “What are we doing?” Ace asked.
