She’d paid three dollars for it.
Yard sales aside, Jo Purna hadn’t been kidding when she said supplies were expensive. Kendall had to choke back a gasp when the salesclerk at Northernmost Save-U-Cash had totaled the contents of her shopping cart. She didn’t do much better at Balto General, and she’d only bought a lamp, a mattress and box spring, and some curtains. She still needed a sofa, an extra easy chair, and at least one area rug.
She’d bring the rest of her things over from Four Hills in a few weeks. Her decision to stay downtown instead of moving right away was a no-brainer, though it would eat into her savings more than she’d have liked. But she wanted to see how the store fared before she made a final move. Plus, she enjoyed the security of living right in town. Soon enough she’d be alone out here, and a part of her couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. She’d only be a few miles from town, but still . . .
“Hello? Anyone here?” The booming voice, coming from the front of the store, startled her out of her dithering, and Kendall hurried through the apartment door, closing it behind her. She’d been certain she’d locked up, but obviously not, since a man and woman stood near the tee-shirt rack, the woman sorting through hoodies and sweatpants. Both looked up as she approached.
“Lucky for us you’re open. We have a list of things we need,” the man exclaimed. He thrust a scribbled sheet of yellow tab paper at her as she drew closer. The woman offered a shy smile, which Kendall returned, even as she shook her head and tried to hand the paper back.
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t open until the end of next week. You could try Fake’s, in town. I know he sells all kinds of things,” she replied. She hated chancing the loss of prospective repeat customers, but she still had a bank account to set up and financial spreadsheets to finish. She had no way to accept cash or credit cards yet.
“I could write you a check. We’re leaving for Talkeetna and we’re in a hurry.” He pointed toward the sleeping bags on display. “We only need a few things, and I know Fake doesn’t have them. We have to be over at the runway to catch our ride into Anchorage and we’re already cutting it close.” The man was nothing if not persistent.
“Well . . .” With reluctance, she held out her hand. “All right. Let’s see your list again.”
Based on what she knew of her existing stock, she could fill most of their order. While she and the woman collected items and piled them on the counter, the man chattered about everything from salmon fishing to puffin sightings. Most of it made scant sense to Kendall and confirmed her suspicion she’d be a cheechako for some time to come.
“So, you’re from Oregon, huh? Been up here long?” The woman’s soft-spoken question took Kendall by uneasy surprise as she placed a can of Deet on the counter. She gave the woman a sharp glance but encountered nothing other than friendly curiosity.
Still, her privacy was innate and damned important, so she prevaricated as politely as she could. “Why do you ask?”
The woman pointed to the long-sleeved shirt Kendall wore. “It says Pendleton on your shirt. The only Pendleton I know is in Oregon.” She nodded toward the man. “Ed and I have been there lots of times.”
“Um—” Oh, crap. Kendall pressed a hand to the raised lettering on the front of her shirt. She’d forgotten about the city pennant silk screened onto the front of the old sweatshirt. Comfort had been uppermost in her mind when she’d dressed that morning. The possibility of running into anyone who might be familiar with Pendleton—and its residents—hadn’t occurred to her this far north. She’d had a difficult time dealing with Thom Banks’s curiosity, weeks ago when he delivered her to Staamat, but nobody else in town had even asked where she’d previously lived. Until now.
Double-crap.
“Yes, Pendleton’s very nice. I have three
Yard sales aside, Jo Purna hadn’t been kidding when she said supplies were expensive. Kendall had to choke back a gasp when the salesclerk at Northernmost Save-U-Cash had totaled the contents of her shopping cart. She didn’t do much better at Balto General, and she’d only bought a lamp, a mattress and box spring, and some curtains. She still needed a sofa, an extra easy chair, and at least one area rug.
She’d bring the rest of her things over from Four Hills in a few weeks. Her decision to stay downtown instead of moving right away was a no-brainer, though it would eat into her savings more than she’d have liked. But she wanted to see how the store fared before she made a final move. Plus, she enjoyed the security of living right in town. Soon enough she’d be alone out here, and a part of her couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. She’d only be a few miles from town, but still . . .
“Hello? Anyone here?” The booming voice, coming from the front of the store, startled her out of her dithering, and Kendall hurried through the apartment door, closing it behind her. She’d been certain she’d locked up, but obviously not, since a man and woman stood near the tee-shirt rack, the woman sorting through hoodies and sweatpants. Both looked up as she approached.
“Lucky for us you’re open. We have a list of things we need,” the man exclaimed. He thrust a scribbled sheet of yellow tab paper at her as she drew closer. The woman offered a shy smile, which Kendall returned, even as she shook her head and tried to hand the paper back.
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t open until the end of next week. You could try Fake’s, in town. I know he sells all kinds of things,” she replied. She hated chancing the loss of prospective repeat customers, but she still had a bank account to set up and financial spreadsheets to finish. She had no way to accept cash or credit cards yet.
“I could write you a check. We’re leaving for Talkeetna and we’re in a hurry.” He pointed toward the sleeping bags on display. “We only need a few things, and I know Fake doesn’t have them. We have to be over at the runway to catch our ride into Anchorage and we’re already cutting it close.” The man was nothing if not persistent.
“Well . . .” With reluctance, she held out her hand. “All right. Let’s see your list again.”
Based on what she knew of her existing stock, she could fill most of their order. While she and the woman collected items and piled them on the counter, the man chattered about everything from salmon fishing to puffin sightings. Most of it made scant sense to Kendall and confirmed her suspicion she’d be a cheechako for some time to come.
“So, you’re from Oregon, huh? Been up here long?” The woman’s soft-spoken question took Kendall by uneasy surprise as she placed a can of Deet on the counter. She gave the woman a sharp glance but encountered nothing other than friendly curiosity.
Still, her privacy was innate and damned important, so she prevaricated as politely as she could. “Why do you ask?”
The woman pointed to the long-sleeved shirt Kendall wore. “It says Pendleton on your shirt. The only Pendleton I know is in Oregon.” She nodded toward the man. “Ed and I have been there lots of times.”
“Um—” Oh, crap. Kendall pressed a hand to the raised lettering on the front of her shirt. She’d forgotten about the city pennant silk screened onto the front of the old sweatshirt. Comfort had been uppermost in her mind when she’d dressed that morning. The possibility of running into anyone who might be familiar with Pendleton—and its residents—hadn’t occurred to her this far north. She’d had a difficult time dealing with Thom Banks’s curiosity, weeks ago when he delivered her to Staamat, but nobody else in town had even asked where she’d previously lived. Until now.
Double-crap.
“Yes, Pendleton’s very nice. I have three
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