27
Annie
What had seemed like hundreds of miles I’d travelled that morning ended up being closer to five. It took Dad mere minutes to spot Mom’s plane tied to the riverbank, and in twice as many minutes, he landed and hopped out to toss the rope to Mom who waited on shore.
Even though she laughed and waved at me, tears rolled down her cheeks.
Dad carried me to her, gingerly set me on my feet, and Mom hugged me tight.
“How is he?” I asked the same time Mom asked the same about me. “I’ll be fine,” I answered first.
“The Tylenol hasn’t kicked in yet. He’s burning up—we have to get him into Fairbanks, Brock.”
Dad lifted and spun me around onto his back like I weighed nothing more than a bag of groceries.
Mom led the way.
“She’s got one fine a*s,” Dad said about Mom, and I punched his
