Cover Me - By Catherine Mann Page 0,18

computer, away from Lindsay’s growing tummy.

Still no messages on the computer. Bummed, she tugged at her purple hemp sweater, wrapping it closer around her in the chilly gym. It was probably too early to expect anything from Madison, but Misty couldn’t help watching, wondering, hungry for anything about how someone from here would adapt to the world outside. A world she would be joining soon.

Madison had promised to update her, even send photos of their new place once they got settled. When community members left, they always sent messages at first, but the notes faded away over time as they got wrapped up in their busy new lives.

She wouldn’t be that way, though, once she left. Even if she couldn’t come back, she had to hear about her family’s lives and she hoped they would want to know about hers. She would never stop praying that they would join her.

Or at least understand her reasons for leaving.

The cursor blinked on the computer screen. Still no new messages in her mailbox. It would probably be a while before they got their place set up, but they’d promised she could stay with them. Ted’s family had money. They would be so happy to have him back in the family fold, they would probably do anything he asked.

She resisted the urge to cross her fingers under the table. She was an adult now, for crying out loud. Twenty-two years old last week. Able to go out on her own.

It was rare to have community members leave twice in a week. For the most part, people were happy here. Decisions to live off-the-grid didn’t come lightly. There was a lot of preparation to do ahead of time, things to learn. Although in her case, she’d been a kid.

So there was a whole other aspect of facing the unknown beyond their mountain valley.

Would it be like on television? With so many satellite channels to choose from, she felt like she had a solid image of the outside world—they weren’t hermits here. Just insular. She’d soaked up reruns of everything from Sex in the City to Law & Order to True Blood.

Everything moved so fast, so bright. She couldn’t wait to be a part of it all. She couldn’t wait to meet him, Brett, face-to-face. She tapped in the Web address for the online dating site… and oh God, he was online, waiting for her just like he’d promised.

The instant message icon blinked. Her heartbeat sped up a notch.

Brett: Morning, beautiful.

Misty: Less than a week til we meet in person.

Brett: Reservations r made.

Her shadowy reflection on the screen grinned back at her. He’d promised to take her to Prince William Sound for a day cruise where they could see orcas, porpoises, eagles, otters, and puffers together. Next February, he would take her to the Fur Rondy in Anchorage, billed as the largest festival in North America. In March, they could watch the Iditarod dogsled race finish.

The way he talked about being together nearly a year from now gave her hope she hadn’t dared store up in a long time. Together they would experience the adventures she’d been craving since her illness.

Misty: Just want to see you in person rather than pictures.

Although his profile photos showed a megahot thirty-nine-year-old guy. Photos of Brett standing beside a Cessna. Brett holding up a string of fish with his parka open to reveal a broad chest. Brett in a suit, holding his niece during her baptism.

The images came together for an athletic, sensitive man with a sexy groomed beard. She couldn’t believe she’d found him online. He said he worked long hours as an airplane mechanic. Couple that with the higher male-to-female ratio in Alaska, and he’d decided to give online dating at try.

Brett: Feels like I know you already. Can’t wait to hear your voice.

Her hand flew to her throat, a nervous habit she’d picked up around four years ago. She chewed her bottom lip, deciding what to say next.

Misty: Sorry it’s taken me so long. Can’t be helped. Leaving my hometown is… complicated.

Brett: Alaska is a big state. We’ll work it out.

No kidding. Alaska had a landmass the size of Texas, California, and Montana combined. Sometimes she felt absorbed by the vastness of it all.

As much as she wished to be from somewhere else, she’d been up-front with Brett about living in America’s last frontier, telling him their remote town had post office box numbers for emergencies. This wasn’t a cult with freaky rituals, just a group of