Missing Alaska: Chandler County, #1

By Cherime MacFarlane

Russ mouthed off to the wrong person, his mother's new business partner. He left Alaska on the run from the consequences. Lynn's boyfriend, a commercial fisherman, will pitch a fit. Russ must figure out where he goes from here. But he's got a truck acting up, and it's a long way home to Alaska.

Gentry got stuck taking care of her controlling father and mean older brother. Her other siblings left her alone to deal with it all Gentry wants out. She took money from their stash and plans to get as far as she can. The guy from Alaska almost runs her down. Can she talk him into taking her away? Maybe Alaska is far enough to get away from her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherime MacFarlane
• Release date: Jul 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201461249

Cherime MacFarlane

Meet Award-Winning, Best-Selling Author Cherime MacFarlane. A prolific multi-genre author, she has a broad range of interests that reflect her been there-done that life. Romance, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, all sorts of characters and plots evolve from a vivid imagination. As a reporter for the Copper Valley Views, Cherime MacFarlane received a letter of commendation from the Copper River Native Association for fair and balanced reporting. She was part of the Amazon Best Selling in Anthologies and Holidays, and Fantasy Anthologies and Short Stories. The Other Side of Dusk was a finalist in the McGrath house award of 2017.

Book preview

Chapter One

Headlights flashed off the tops of the trees as the car came up the hill behind her. The engine revved when the vehicle entered the straight stretch. Gentry looked around for somewhere to hide and didn’t see anything. There wasn’t a place. She must get off the road, to the shoulder, and into the trees before the lights pinpointed her. If either her father or older brother were driving the vehicle, the beating of her life would happen soon.

As she threw the strap she had tied around an old pillowcase over her shoulder, the young woman launched herself toward safety. Lord, if you do exist, help me, please. A tree she hadn’t seen seemed to lunge at her from the shadows on the edge of the road.

Then everything lit up as the vehicle's bright headlights found her. A branch of the tree she attempted to dodge around caught her across the chest, bent back and propelled Gentry into the road behind her.

A squeal of brakes and the scent of rubber filled the air. The young woman looked up at the grill of the vehicle looming a few feet away.

The door of the truck opened, and a man’s angry voice called out, What the hell are you doing? You might have been killed!

Gentry struggled up on one skinned elbow and stared at the license plate a short distance from her face. Yellow and blue, a small flag in the center divided a series of three letters and three numbers. The plate proudly proclaimed Alaska at the top.

What the hell are you doing in Kentucky? Are you really from Alaska?

The man’s dark hand and an equally brown arm reached out to the young woman. Come on. We need to get out of the middle of the road before someone comes along and rear-ends my truck.

When he pulled Gentry to her feet, she leaned against the fender. The man stood close enough for her to get a good whiff of his breath. You’ve been drinking.

I only had a couple of beers with dinner. I’m not drunk.

You almost ran me over. In Kentucky, its impaired driving. You could find yourself sitting in jail.

Everything about him seemed dark, but Gentry didn’t think he was black. The man was different for sure. The fright she got wore off. Her mind went into high gear, and Gentry saw a way to get away from her family.

I don’t feel real good. She put a little quaver in her words.

Hell! I suppose you want to call an ambulance.

No. With what? I don’t have a cell phone. But we do need to get off the road. If you could take me somewhere, it would help.

What do you want me to do?

The harsh tone left. Gentry detected a hint of concern in his question. How about you help me into the truck? I dropped my bag. Could you pick it up, please?

Okay. You need help getting inside?

If you would, I’d appreciate it.

The man turned to grab the pillowcase off the road. With the case in one hand he took her left elbow with the other. Gentry kept one hand on the hood and the fender as they worked around the nose of the truck. She exaggerated her injury, put it on a little.

All she wanted was for him to get her away from Bald Knob Road. A doctor bill from the emergency room wouldn’t help at all. Gentry hadn’t dared steal more than a couple of thousand from the stash her father and brother kept in the old coffee can in the chicken coop.

When they found out she nicked the money they kept in the can from the sale of illegal ginseng; there would be hell to pay. If they caught her, Gentry might not live through the beating.

She had a hard time keeping her leg from jumping from nerves as she waited for him to climb back into the vehicle. As expected, he asked if she needed to go to the hospital.

Gentry shook her head. I’m using an old pillowslip for a suitcase. What gives you the idea I’ve got enough money to cover a hospital visit?

Don’t you have any family to help out?

Arms crossed over her chest; Gentry turned to glare at the man. No. I don’t. And you never answered the question, are you from Alaska? That’s a long way from Kentucky. Maybe far enough to never have to see any of her family again. The thought rattled around in her brain and Gentry decided Alaska might do the trick.

Yes, I drove down to the Lower 48 because I needed a break before going back to school.

You look a little old to be going to school.

He gave a little snort, turned to give her a once over and put his attention back on the road. College, kiddo. Now tell me where I should take you.

Chandlerville is down the road a bit. By the time we get there, I’m gonna to need a rest. The least you can do is get me a room for the night after nearly killing me.

I’m not made of money either. I can get one room if you’re up for sharing.

I'm not sure about sharing a bed.

Not a damn bed! A room. I don’t know you either. You might want to rob me, steal my keys and my truck.

God! Then why in the world do you even want to share a room? Didn’t your Momma teach you any manners? Listen, Mr. Alaska, I’ll just pay for my own room and the hell with it. That is if he has any cabins left. The Festival is over so there should be at least one vacancy.

You said this Chandlerville was a little way down the road. How far is it? I need to gas this thing up soon if the town is any farther than an hour’s drive.

It’s not that far. Look sharp now, there’s a turn coming up. You need to make a right and down the road aways, hang to the left. The highway splits up ahead. Watch for a sign on the right, Cabins. The place is kinda beat up, but the cabins aren’t bad.

So this town, Chandlerville, we should come to it in about a half hour?

I suppose. Depends on how fast you drive. Going like a bat outta hell on these twisty roads isn’t advisable. Not to mention you could run across Barney Fife.

The man slowed the truck and made the turn as Gentry said. He sped up again, and Gentry reached for the handhold just in front of the door.

Who is Barney Fife?

Gentry grinned to herself. Not who, it’s a what. Used to be a TV show with a kinda bumbling deputy, so deputies in general are Barney Fifes. And you could slow it on down a little. The old boy who owns the cabins lives on the property. There’s no worry about getting a place if he has one free.

Why slow down? Does the road get any worse than this?

Gee whiz! If we’re not running from the law, there’s no reason to invite trouble.

I’m not planning on sticking around. A ticket doesn’t bother me. All I want to do is get you somewhere, and I’m off again.

Off to where? Gentry decided the guy drove fast all the time. She tightened her seat belt a tiny bit.

I’m going to the Atlantic Ocean. North or South Carolina, either one works for me. Afterward, I plan on seeing Key West, and I'll drive back to New Orleans. I thought I’d go to Los Angeles and see what all the hype is about then head on home.

That is one whole hell of a lot of driving. What do I call you, anyway? Or do you want me to keep on calling you Alaska? My name’s Gentry.

It’s not so bad as far as driving time goes. But paying for the gas has been expensive. Sometimes I pull over into a rest stop, put the seat you’re in down and catch a few winks. You can call me Russ.

He rounded a curve which had her white knuckling the hand hold. Both the man and the truck didn’t seem to care if the road was dark and winding. Gentry thought of another reason for him to slow down.

If you aren’t careful, you could hit a deer. That would put a damper on your plans to dash across the country.

Did you notice the brush guard on this truck? It’s constructed of half-inch thick steel pipe. I dodge a lot bigger things in Alaska and Canada than deer. A moose can weigh in at close to a thousand pounds.

Heavens, hitting one of those must tear a car up something fierce.

Uh huh. It can kill the driver too.

Gentry sat in silence for a minute. Then she wondered if there was a chance this man might fall asleep at the wheel. It might be best to keep him talking. When did you leave Alaska?

I left Anchorage six days ago.

Six days? And how many miles ago? How can you see anything that way?

I don’t have any trouble at all. He waved a hand at the road ahead of them. Is that where the road splits ahead?

Yep. Stay to the left-hand fork. I don’t understand. Why come down here at all if y’all don’t take the time to view the countryside.

I’ll take some time heading home through California. I need to watch the weather driving through Canada. I don’t want to try going through Whitehorse or eastern Alaska when there’s a high-pressure system. It’s no fun fighting forty below temperatures.

Forty below? Gentry squeaked out.

Ya. But it usually doesn't get that cold where I live.

Russ slowed a little as he came up to the place where the road separated. He looked to make sure no one was making a left. Then he sped up again, and Gentry relaxed a little. The man wasn’t as wild as he seemed at first or she gotten used to it.

It wasn’t long before she spotted the sign. Gentry felt comfortable spending the night for two reasons. There wasn’t much left of the night, and her father would never come this far looking for her. Neither would Johnny. For now, it should be safe to spend the night in a cabin. Maybe she could talk Russ into taking her along to the coast.

Old boy’s name is Hank. Y’all have to go in and ask if there’s a vacancy. These cabins have been here since his daddy or granddaddy put them up, way back when. By now he’ll be pretty sleepy. Just tell him y’all want a cabin and he won’t ask questions if y’all got cash.

They pulled up in front of the office where a bare yellow bulb hung over the door. When the light in the office came on, and she could see Russ filling out paperwork, Gentry heaved a sigh of relief. She needed a shower and a few hours’ sleep.

With the light on in the office, she finally got a good look at the man who had picked her up. He certainly was brown all over and had black hair. Russ was taller than she realized and towered over the old man. She wondered if he might be an Eskimo. Once they got settled, she would ask.

Gentry hoped questioning him about his race didn’t make him angry. She needed to stay in the man’s good graces if possible. Playing on his sympathies and using the guilt card wouldn’t bother her if necessary. She had to get away as far from Kentucky as possible.

Chapter Two

The whole time Russell filled out the paperwork in the old man’s office, he wondered what the latest run-in with a woman would cost him.

His thoughts turned to his mom. She worried about him being alone down here. In a few hours, it would be two days since he sent the last text.

Her last communication to him had been informative. She told Russ he was in way more trouble than he first thought. His stepsister and Rurik Petrov were engaged. The commercial fisherman didn’t lose his temper often, but Rurik had one. If the Russian Raider got wind of the confrontation between him and Lynn... Russ could face a pounding when he got to Homer.

He did plan to go home. When he thought about missing Christmas with his mother in Homer, Russ cringed inside. This would be her first Christmas without Rob. Russ understood it would hit his mom hard.

He had screwed this one up big time.

How long ya planning on staying young fella?

The old man’s question forced Russ back into the situation he would have loved to run away from. A night, that's all. I’m passing through.

You’ve come a mighty long distance. I’ve been there, Anchorage.

Russ wanted to take the key the man held and get settled. Stress had his head pounding. Nearly running over the woman scared the life out of him. However, it seemed he must listen to an old man reminisce about the old days.

I spent a couple of years on Fort Rich. Planned on staying in Alaska until the old man died. I miss the hell out of the place. All I wanted to do was retire, head up north to Willow or Trapper Creek and put up a cabin.

A wave of sympathy swept over the young man. That’s what my step-dad did. He and my mom opened a sporting goods store and bait shop in Homer.

Good for him. Hank handed the key over to Russ. I’m happy to hear someone got to do what they wanted in this life. And it’s nice to know y’all don’t plan on hanging out in the Lower 48. If y’all need an extra day, let me know.

Out in the parking lot, the woman sat back in the shadows. Was she trying to stay hidden so no one could instigate any gossip? That might be the case. After living in a small town, Russ understood how the rumor mill screwed with a person.

His mother’s family had cut them off the minute she moved in with Rob Loftgren without marrying the man. Russ understood the reasoning behind the lack of a divorce, but he hated being cut off from family.

Inside the truck, Russ started the vehicle and drove around the circle of small cabins toward the last one. Spaced several yards apart, each one sat far enough away from the others to give the occupants some privacy.

Did he give you number five?

Yep. Last one in line.

Gravel crunched as Russ drove up the path to the last log cabin. As soon as he put the shift lever in park, the woman popped the seat belt and leaned forward to pick up the pillowcase between her feet.

Light flooded the cab when he opened the door. I’ll come around and get you as soon as I get the room open. After pulling the keys from the ignition, Russ stuffed them in his pocket as he pushed the driver’s door shut.

Without waiting for a response, Russ left the truck and walked up the two broad steps to the porch. Another one of the yellow bulbs illuminated the area. The lock turned easily enough. It seemed the old man kept the rentals up.

The door squealed a little on its hinges when he opened it all the way. Behind him, she opened the truck door and called out, Don’t leave the door open, the skeeters will eat us alive if you do.

She was probably right. There were a bunch more bugs here in the states than what he was used to in Alaska with one exception, mosquitoes. A deadbolt, the door wouldn’t accidently close and lock anyone out. Pulling the wooden door shut, Russ went back to get her out of the truck.

It didn’t take long for them to get settled in. Gentry dumped the contents of her bag on the bed and pulled out a ragged T-shirt and shorts. Clothes in hand, the woman made her way to the bathroom.

Russ watched her and thought her leg appeared a lot better, probably more than it should. It seemed the girl played him. He and the woman would have it out. He damn sure didn't plan to leave anything out where she could get to his valuables.

The