The Simple Wild

I might take risks, but they’re always worth it.

And just like that, I sense a circle closing. Back to the beginning, and near to the end.

As long as I’m flying my planes and you’re with me, I’ll be happy. But this going-our-separate-ways bullshit? This isn’t working for me, Calla.

This is my last flight, kiddo,” he announces with grim certainty. He reaches over and takes my hand, and the smile on his face is oddly at peace. “And I can’t think of a better person to have spent it with.

I'm now unmistakeably attracted to the yeti.

Life up here may be simple but it’s not easy, and it’s not for everyone. Water runs out; pipes freeze; engines won’t start; it’s dark for eighteen, nineteen hours a day, for months. Even longer in the far north. Up here it’s about having enough food to eat, and enough heat to stay alive through the winter. It’s about survival, and enjoying the company of the people that surround us. It’s not about whose house is the biggest, or who has the nicest clothes, or the most money. We support each other because we’re all in this together. “And people either like that way of life or they don’t; there’s no real in-between. People like Wren and Jonah, they find they can’t stay away from it for too long. And people like Susan, well . . . they never warm up to it. They fight the challenges instead of embracing them, or at least learning to adapt to them.” Agnes pauses, her mouth open as if weighing whether she should continue. “I don’t agree with the choices Wren made where you’re concerned, but I know it was never a matter of him not caring about you. And if you want to blame people for not trying, there’s plenty of it to go around.” Agnes turns to smile at me then. “Or you could focus on the here-and-now, and not on what you can’t change.

Helped me?” he repeats. “Yes. Maybe now you have a shot at getting laid. As long as you don’t speak.” The wicked smile he flashes makes my throat go dry. “Do you think I have problems in that department, Calla?” “I mean with two-legged creatures.

He’s not like any other guy I’ve dated or crushed on. And while he’s capable of making my blood boil like no one else, I feel a magnetic pull toward him that I can’t explain.

What hold does Alaksa have on them? What makes this place worth giving everything else up?

He died as he lived. Quietly, with a resigned sigh and a smile of acceptance. Leaving a giant hole in my chest that I can’t see how time will ever close. And yet I wouldn’t trade this emptiness for anything.

I’ve spent the last twelve years dwelling on all the things Wren Fletcher isn’t. I should have had the guts to come and find out all the things he is.

That wanting someone to be something they’re not won’t make it happen.

I’ve just kept on giving this man parts of me, not realizing that I was losing myself in the process.

Up here it's about having enough food to eat, and enough heat to stay alive through the winter. It's about survival, and enjoying the company of the people that surround us. It's not about whose house is the biggest, or who has the nicest clothes, or the most money. We support each other because we're all in this together. And people either like that way of life or they don't...

Hell. Six other pilots available and I had to be the one to get you,” Jonah mutters to himself. … “ ‘Don't worry, Calla.' 'It's no big deal, Calla.' That's what a decent person would say,” I mumble. “I'm here to get your high-maintenance little ass to Bangor, not soothe your ego.

My limbs curl around his body as I watch his broad chest heave with each thrust, and his hooded eyes alight with fire, our gazes locked, and I wonder how on earth I could ever possibly have not wanted this man.

I love you, too,” I rush to say. “And I like who you are.” It turns out he is the man on the other side of the phone, listening to me prattle in childish wonder. He’s exactly who I wanted him to be, despite all his flaws, and all the pain he caused.

Helped me?” he repeats. “Yes. Maybe now you have a shot at getting laid. As long as you don’t speak.” The wicked smile he flashes makes my throat go dry. “Do you think I have problems in that department, Calla?

I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Because I was worried. Because I care.

I now have memories attached to it, to help fill it up. Of my dad’s soft chuckle carrying through the perpetual silence, of the smell of his fresh-brewed coffee in the morning, of the sound of the floors creaking as he pads down the hallway after saying good night to me. Such little things—tiny, trivial slivers of his life that shouldn’t count as memories

One eye—the one not covered in blood—looks up to regard me. “Was that exciting or what, Barbie?” I shake my head in exasperation at him.

They can’t sense my loneliness, or the knot in my stomach. That’s the magic of social media, I guess. But there’s also an odd comfort to hiding behind the illusion. If

By being in his favorite place, high up in the sky, getting away from everything he’d lost down on the ground.

You should have called him. He should have called you. Your mom should never have left. Wren should have left Alaska for you. Who the hell knows what’s right, and what it would have led to, but it doesn’t matter because you can’t change any of that.

wanting someone to be something they’re not won’t make it happen

I frown. “What people?” “Yupik. Some are Athabascan, or Aleut.” Jonah makes a left turn. “The villages that we fly into are mostly Yupik communities.” “Is that what Agnes is?” “Yup. She grew up in a village up the river. Her mom and brothers are still there, living a subsistence lifestyle.” He adds quickly, perhaps after seeing my frown, “They live off the land.” “Oh! So, sort of like farm-to-table?” Unlike all the other exchanges I’ve had with Jonah, I feel like I’m getting useful information about Western Alaska. “Sure. If you want to compare an entire culture’s way of life to the latest culinary trend . . .” he murmurs dryly.

My best friend will demand a girls' night out and then act like it's a complete coincidence that her boyfriend shows up, even though I watched her text him our exact location a half hour before.

done last weekend. “I just paid for ten more hot yoga sessions. And what about squash? Mom would need to find a replacement partner.” “All things you managed to work around when you went to Cancún last year.” “Yeah . . . I guess,” I admit reluctantly. “But Alaska is a million hours away.” “Only half a million,” Simon quips. “Will you at least give me a script for Ambi—” “No.” I sigh with exaggeration. “What fun is having a stepdad with a prescription pad, then?” My phone starts ringing

Does anyone actually love their job?” “You’re too young to be that cynical.” He chuckles. “Did you at least like the people you worked with?” “Not really,” I admit. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to drag myself out of bed, or didn’t watch the hours pass. I loved the feeling that came as I switched off my computer and grabbed my coat each night. “Maybe being forced out is a good thing, then.” He grins at me. “Yeah. Maybe.

Her mom and brothers are still there, living a subsistence lifestyle.” He adds quickly, perhaps after seeing my frown, “They live off the land.” “Oh! So, sort of like farm-to-table?