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CHAPTER ONE

I lifted my face to the cool wind and breathed in the crisp air. Contentedness washed through me. The calm wasn't completely unfamiliar, but it had been rare over the last year. Something inside me whispered: This is the life, Beth. Enjoy every second of it.

I hoped I'd never again take such things for granted.

A year into my escape to Alaska, I was finally on a boat, on my way to see one of the sights that were the reason most people ventured to this part of the world—glaciers.

A year ago, I checked myself out of a hospital in St. Louis and ran away to Benedict, Alaska, gateway and launching point to one of the true wonders of the world. I'd been hesitant to take the tour, having been warned by an acquaintance, Ruke, to stay off the water. Back then, I'd figured that even the big tour boats should be off-limits.

Ruke's intuition had been telling him a different story recently. He'd shared with me that he didn't sense I was in any danger at all, particularly aboard one of the big ships. He did suggest I might not want to kayak in Glacier Bay if I'd never kayaked before, but that was practical advice. I hadn't ever been in a kayak or canoe, and I had no plans to do so any time soon. When it came to boats in the bay, both Ruke and I had concluded that bigger was probably always better.

The mid-July weather was unseasonably warm. While seventy degrees wasn't unheard of, seventy-five was rare. It had hit seventy-six today, though the local temperature was always described using Celsius—It is almost 24 degrees, can you believe it! I'd asked why Benedict residents didn't use Fahrenheit like lower forty-eight residents, but no one had known the answer, some folks shrugging and commenting, "It's just the way it is."

Not only was the higher temperature a rare treat, but it was sunny today, too. Benedict and Glacier Bay saw clouds and some sort of rain most days, July included. If it was going to rain today, though, the clouds that would bring the precipitation were still out of sight. The sun's rays were warm and made me smile.

Tex laughed as he stood next to me. "Feels good, huh?"

"It does." I shaded my eyes with my hand and looked up at my tall, broad "man-friend," a title he'd given himself. Most of his self-descriptors were laced with some humor, and it was easy to play along. I continued, "I can't believe you've never done this, either."

"I must admit, this way of seeing the glaciers is much easier than the hikes from the other side, and I've done those a time or two." He looked behind us and into the enclosed area of the ship. "And here there are snacks that I didn't have to pack and carry along. Can I get you a coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Be right back." Tex turned to make his way to the comfortably stocked snack bar inside the warm and well-protected seating area.

The tour boat was not far behind a cruise ship. I'd seen a few of those ahead of us, and a couple headed back the other direction off our port side. The bay was wide enough, and the ships all moved at a consistent enough pace to not worry about crashes or getting in each other's way. The ingress and egress patterns were obvious. However, there were things other than glaciers to see along the way. Snowcapped mountains filled the distant landscape, but it was the islands in the bay that surprised me the most. Those of us paying attention had been gifted with the sight of a mama grizzly and her two cubs running along the shore of the first one we'd passed by.

Tex had explained that the islands weren't off-limits to anyone. People did take kayaks and canoes to many of them. They hiked the islands and even camped there. I wasn't quite ready to consider a walkabout and campout with the wildlife, but maybe someday.

When I'd first moved to Benedict and asked what sorts of wildlife I might run into, I was simply told all of it. I'd had my fair share of run-ins with bears, moose, porcupines, even some fish that were big enough to seem too wild for this giant catfish fisherwoman from Missouri. The big boat's deck was about as close as I needed to get to any of the islands.

With a jolt, as I was surveying an island overflowing with birds, the ship took a sharp, right veer. I gasped and grabbed the railing in reflex. Before I understood what had caused the change in trajectory, the noise of a siren filled the air.