An Alaskan Proposal. Beth Carpenter
everything you need to know from this crew. Anchorage has been number one in sales for the past three years running, and we’re not planning to surrender that title anytime soon. The secret to our success is passion. The people who work here love the outdoors, and they enjoy sharing that enthusiasm with our customers. That’s my main criteria when I choose employees.”
Sabrina could certainly see Walter’s passion for his job. She just hoped she could convince him she shared his excitement. “I can’t wait to get started.”
“Good. I think first, we’ll put you on the register with Clara, so you can get an overview of the store before we move you to one of the departments. How does that sound?”
“Great idea.” Sabrina had worked retail all through high school and college, so running a cash register would be a piece of cake, and would give her time to study up on the rest of the store.
“Welcome aboard.”
It turned out she’d arrived just in time for the big annual team-builder. Today only involved half the store employees. The other half, who were working at the store today, would be doing their team-builder tomorrow. Sabrina would lay odds that tomorrow Walter’s group would be the first to the top of the hill. He clearly didn’t like to lose.
Walter and some of the others were shedding their raincoats. The rain seemed to have stopped. Good—Sabrina could get out of this plastic wrap. Everyone else seemed to have jackets made from the latest high-tech waterproof fabric. She’d sold a couple of them in the store this week. Sabrina didn’t even own rainwear. Well, technically there was that vintage Laura Wilkes umbrella she’d gotten at an estate sale, but Sabrina considered that more art than protection. Dealing with rain hadn’t been a big part of her life as a fashion buyer in Scottsdale. But that was then.
Now Sabrina was doing the nature thing in Alaska, and she wasn’t equipped for it. Fortunately, Clara, being the experienced mom she was, carried extra folding ponchos in her glove compartment and had loaned Sabrina one at the beginning of the hike. It had done the job, but Sabrina was glad the rain had finally stopped and she could peel it off.
She stretched, and then turned to see one of the guys from Learn & Live looking toward her. Even from this distance she could see the intense blue of his eyes, and those eyes were sweeping over her from head to toe. He frowned. Sabrina did a casual scan to see if she’d spilled something on her clothes, but her leggings seemed fine. So did the French blue pima cotton cardigan, her favorite sweater. It could have been a little thicker, though, she realized as a sudden breeze cut through the knit. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm them. When she looked up again, the guy had turned away and was talking with Walter.
Now that everyone was removing their raincoats, Sabrina realized most of them had on gray or blue cargo pants and some sort of fleece vest in a primary color. Nobody else wore anything close to leggings. Oops. Sabrina prided herself on always dressing appropriately, and it seemed the appropriate things to wear on company hikes were clothes from the company store. It looked like boxy vests and ugly pants were in her future.
Walter called for everyone’s attention, congratulating Sabrina’s group for being first up the mountain. Judging from the applause and cheering, it was a big deal. He called them all forward and hung medals around their necks. When it was Sabrina’s turn, he patted her shoulder. “Nice job for someone who’s only been here four days. Congratulations, Sabrina.”
“Thanks.” All she’d done was follow the rest of her team along the trail, but it was still nice to be recognized. And it was nice that he remembered her name. It had taken her old boss three weeks to quit calling her Semolina, and she was never quite sure if it was deliberate. The medals were just novelty items—a plastic disk painted gold with the word winner stamped on it—but it was all good fun.
Once Walter had given out the medals, he gestured to the two men from the Learn & Live truck to come over. They’d both removed their raincoats and were wearing long-sleeved zip-necks under fleece vests, with the same logo as the truck embroidered on the chest. The first guy towered a foot over Walter. With his wavy blond hair and relaxed grin, he looked like he’d just put away his surfboard. The other guy, the one who’d been frowning at Sabrina before, seemed more serious. He was a couple of inches shorter than his coworker, which would put him around six feet, with brown hair and those incredible blue eyes. Walter’s cheeks plumped over his mustache. “Everyone, I want you to meet Leith Jordan and Erik Peterman, from Learn & Live. They’re going to be giving us a demonstration on survival skills.”
Survival skills? Wasn’t that like making huts from tree branches and eating bugs? No, thanks. Surfer-dude Erik talked for a few minutes about a course they’d set up a little farther along the trail, where they were going to be giving the lessons in orienteering. Sabrina didn’t know what that was and wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. When Walter asked for volunteers to stay behind and cook lunch, Sabrina’s hand was the first one up.
“Great. Thanks, Sabrina, Will and Amy. The rest of you follow Erik and Leith.”
Will was one of the few people in the store whose name Sabrina remembered, other than Clara. He looked like a high-school student, but when he’d sold Sabrina the hiking boots yesterday, he seemed to know all about them. He’d steered her toward this slightly more expensive pair. It pained her to drain her anemic checking account for ugly footwear, but she had to admit, the boots he’d recommended kept her feet dry and comfortable despite the rain and rough trail.
Will introduced Sabrina to Amy, the pregnant lady, who seemed to be his supervisor. “You’re the management trainee, right?” Amy asked.
“That’s right.”
“So, you’ll be working in Seattle once you finish up here?”
“Yes, assuming I make the cut. They only plan to move the top half of trainees to the next level, based on evaluation scores.”
“Walter will take care of you,” Will said.
“He’s right,” Amy said. “I’ve been with the store for seven years. Once you’re part of his team, Walter treats you like family. Although, I don’t know why you’d want to live in Seattle. I was there last year, and I couldn’t believe the traffic. There are some nice hikes in the area, though.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” The other management trainees wouldn’t shut up about the trails during breaks in the orientation meetings. Sabrina had just smiled and nodded. “I hope I get the chance to try them out.”
Amy gestured toward the van. “We’d better get started if we’re going to have everything ready by the time they get back. Will, can you get the cooking crate out, please?”
Will carried a yellow-and-black plastic case from the back of the van. He opened it to reveal various pieces of equipment that looked as though they might belong in a science lab. Huh. Maybe Sabrina should have gone to the survival demo after all.
Amy pulled out a rolled bundle and, through some feat of origami, turned it into a table. “I’ll cut up the veggies and make the dip. Can you two build the fire, heat the beans and handle the grill?”
“Sure,” Will volunteered before Sabrina could say anything. “Where do you want the table?”
Sabrina had to admit, Will was a nice kid—he moved Amy’s table and equipment under the canopy and arranged everything for her so she could sit while she worked on the vegetables. Meanwhile, at Amy’s suggestion, Sabrina unloaded a bunch of logs from the van and stacked them near a circle of stones in a clear area not too far away. A few minutes later, Will returned, shaking his head. “I wish she’d have that baby. I keep thinking one of these days it’s going to pop out in the middle of the shoe department.”
“When is she due?” Sabrina asked.
“Yesterday. Walter told her she didn’t need to do the team-builder this year, but she didn’t want to miss it. You want to build the fire, while I get the rest of the wood?”
“Why don’t you build the fire, and