A Mummy For His Daughter. Amy Ruttan

to Wolf’s Harbor, but there were no vessels departing on the eight-hour journey from Sitka through Cross Sound and into the small inlet of Wolf’s Harbor. The Cessna had been her only option.

      She didn’t like airplanes, even though she was used to flying. Her grandmother had loved taking trips all over the world, but even though air travel was second nature to her she didn’t like it any better.

      The plane rocked again but the other people who were on the same flight didn’t pay any attention to it. They were calm and just rocking with the turbulence as if it was nothing. Of course they were probably used to it.

      Evelyn was not. She was used to first class. She wasn’t used to a bush plane way of life, nor to this level of turbulence where the pilot would probably have to crab land on the Tarmac because of the wind shear.

      The first time she’d flown on a Cessna had been when she’d left Wolf’s Harbor—or rather when she’d been taken from Wolf’s Harbor.

      She’d never got to go back.

      Of course she’d been only ten when she’d gone to live in Boston. Her father had been killed by a runaway logging truck when he’d gone out one evening. Her mother—who’d died when Evelyn was four—had been Tlingit, and her maternal grandmother and uncle had lived in Wolf’s Harbor, but Evelyn hadn’t heard from them in twenty years.

      When she’d first left she’d written letters to them, but nothing had ever come back. She’d been devastated, but her paternal grandmother had taught her to be tough. To harden her heart against disappointment.

      Besides, it was really her fault that her father had died. It was no wonder her mother’s family had written her off. Her father had been the beloved town doctor for years until that accident. It had been for the best that she’d left.

      Still, it had torn a hole in her soul. She’d got world experience, and a great education, but as a child she hadn’t wanted to leave Wolf’s Harbor.

      A social service worker from Juneau had come to take her away. Her father’s estranged mother in Boston had got custody of her. And, as a child, she really hadn’t had a say....

      “I don’t want to leave,” Evelyn protested, clutching her small rag doll and looking back at her father’s log cabin with longing.

      She loved her cozy home in the forest, where she’d used to wait for her father to come home. But he was never coming back. Her father was gone—and all because he had been on his way to see that woman. The woman who wanted to replace her mother.

      “You have no choice,” the social worker said, kneeling in front of her.

      She could see the pain in the woman’s eyes.

      “I’m sorry, Evelyn, but your grandmother in Boston is looking forward to your arrival and she’s your legal guardian now. Your father didn’t have a will and a judge has ruled in your paternal grandmother’s favor. You have to go live with her.”

      “I don’t want to go to Boston.”

      “I know.” The social worker squeezed her shoulder. “I wish you could stay too.”

      Evelyn picked up her knapsack, which held all her belongings, and took the social worker’s hand as they climbed into the taxi cab which drove them to the airport.

      The Cessna was waiting and there were other passengers climbing on board. She gripped the social worker’s hand as she looked back at the town.

      The taxi cab driver—Uncle Yazzie—had tears in his eyes as he waved goodbye to her.

      “Why can’t I stay with my uncle? Why can’t I stay with my grandmother? They can take care of me. I want to stay with them.”

      “Your grandmother in Boston has guardianship over you. The court has decided that you have to go to Boston, Evelyn. I’m so sorry. I know that you want to stay, but you have to be a brave girl. It will be okay.”

      A lump formed in Evelyn’s throat. She was leaving everything she knew, everything she loved, to live with a stranger.

      Uncle Yazzie scrubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again soon.”

      Evelyn nodded and tried to fight back the tears as she walked away from the only family she’d known.

      She would never forgive herself for not stopping her father from going out that night to see Jocelyn—the woman he’d wanted to marry. If she’d stopped him he’d still be alive...

      “Ladies and gents, we’re now making our descent into Wolf’s Harbor. Please fasten your seatbelt.”

      The pilot made the same announcement in Tlingit and Evelyn felt sad that she’d almost forgotten her mother’s language. She understood it still, but when was the last time she’d spoken it?

      Evelyn couldn’t remember. Her grandmother had banned all talk of Alaska and anything of her past because it had been too painful for her, and Evelyn hadn’t wanted to make her grandmother upset. Her grandmother had blamed Alaska for taking her son away, for her having had to disinherit him. Alaska had ruined her father’s promising surgical career.

      Evelyn had still loved Alaska, but had said nothing to her grandmother about her love for her former home. She had always been worried her grandmother would send her away, so she’d just tried to please the woman.

      She hadn’t wanted to be alone. She hadn’t wanted to be sent away again.

      That trip to Boston... She’d known then what alone felt like. It had been terrible, and she’d never wanted to feel that way again.

      Except now you are alone!

      And it was her fault again this time.

      She’d been with Nathan for two years, but her career had always been more important to her. Nathan had a great surgical practice in Minnesota, and he wanted to settle down and get married. Only that was the last thing that Evelyn wanted.

      She didn’t want a family. One that could be taken away from her in an instant. One she didn’t deserve.

      There was a part of her that should have felt sorrow over losing Nathan, but she felt numb and a little bit relieved.

      He’d accused her once of being cold. And maybe she was.

      Of course being cold meant that you kept your heart intact. Not feeling was her armor. Her protection against pain. Her grandmother had taught her to guard her heart in order to avoid pain. Emotions were for the weak. And it served her well as a surgeon.

      She took a deep breath and looked out through the small window to see Wolf’s Harbor come into view through the misty summer rain that was clinging to the mountains.

      Her heart skipped a beat and her palms were sweaty, but she wasn’t sure if that was from the turbulence or from seeing the place where she’d been born. A place she’d never thought she’d see again.

      The sight of the boats moored at the town dock and even the vessels that were out on the eerily calm water made her stomach flip in anticipation. It was just as beautiful as she remembered.

      For the first year of her life in Boston she’d dreamed about Wolf’s Harbor, dreamed about her father, and then what she remembered had begun to fade as she’d integrated into life in Boston.

      Her grandmother had been distant and mourning her son’s decision to head to Alaska, and her grandmother’s grief and bitterness had seeped into their life in Boston. So they’d traveled a lot. Boston had been their home base, but she had always felt her grandmother had traveled so she wouldn’t have a moment to grieve for her son. Boston might have been a base, but it had never felt like home.

      She’d excelled in school, to please her grandmother, and had gone to Dartmouth and then Harvard Medical School. During her last year at Harvard her grandmother had died, but Evelyn’s time there had seemed to please her. The more Evelyn had excelled, the more her grandmother had seemed happy with