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A big group from Michigan just called and wanted to set up a custom trip for next week. Guess I’m solo for dinner.” Dita was much more to Pasha than just her employer. She’d become a dear friend, as the power had predicted when they first met, and they often shared meals at the roadhouse.
    “Not so fast,” said a familiar voice from behind her.
    Pasha turned as Karla Edwards shed her coat over the back of the stool beside her and eased onto the padded seat. She wore green surgical scrubs and had her black medical bag with her. “Heading out or coming back?” Pasha asked.
    Karla was the only RN for hundreds of miles, and the nearest doctor was in Fairbanks, so she handled all the priority medical calls for a large region. “Coming back.” She arched her back in a long stretch and groaned. “Bryson’s due in from a run in an hour or so. Can you wait a while for dinner so she can join us?”
    “Of course.” Karla and her partner Bryson had become like sisters to Pasha. She had a lot in common with Karla—both were relative newcomers to the state, still adjusting to the isolation of their little village after years of living in metropolitan areas. And she worked with Bryson, a bush pilot who ferried clients and supplies for Eidson Eco-Tours.
    “The usual?” Grizz said perfunctorily, already reaching for a Black Fang from the cooler. He waited until he got the nod from Karla to open the bottle and set it before her. Then he excused himself to see to the oil-rig workers farther down the bar.
    Karla exhaled loudly as she reached for the beer and took a long tug at the bottle.
    “Long day?” Pasha massaged Karla’s shoulder, which elicited a soft groan of appreciation.
    “A day lasts only twenty-four hours,” Karla said tiredly as she closed her eyes and leaned into Pasha’s probing fingers.
    Without ceasing to manipulate the pronounced knot in Karla’s shoulder, Pasha rose and stood behind her, where she could use her other hand as well and do a more thorough job. Karla groaned again, louder, and leaned forward so Karla could have better access to her back.
    “Everything okay? Pasha asked.
    “Good outcome.” Karla sighed. “I delivered a healthy baby girl to a couple in Arctic Village. But the poor mom was in labor for nearly thirty hours so I’m horribly sleep-deprived.”
    “We’ll call it an early night so Bryson can get you home and in bed.”
    “I like the sound of that,” Karla murmured in a husky voice that suddenly seemed not quite so tired.
    “Get your mind out of the gutter.” Pasha softly slapped her shoulder and returned to her barstool. “No massages for those who remind the deprived how deprived they are.” Winter had been very long, and Pasha had discussed with Karla on several occasions how tired she was of celibacy.
    “Aww.” Karla complained half-heartedly as she sat upright and reached for her beer. “That did help, though. Thanks. So how’re you? Ready for the start of the season?”
    The tingling sense of anticipation returned, like liquid fire in her veins. “I’m okay. Restless,” Pasha replied. “Have you ever had a feeling that something big is about to happen, like a long wait will be over and you just want to…I don’t know… push it somehow to get it here faster?”

Chapter Two
     
    Bettles, Alaska
    One week later, June first
     
    Pasha stared at the neon green numerals—five a.m.—and studied her watch. The sunlight peeking past the edge of her closed curtains often deceived her. On June first the sun rose at two thirty after only a one-hour dip below the horizon, and in another few days, it wouldn’t set. Normally she needed at least eight hours and several cups of caffeine to feel this alert and energized. And last night, she and Dita had stayed up until midnight finishing their preparation for the first clients.
    The restless anticipation that had consumed her the last several days had exploded tenfold while she slept, until she could barely