Macy hadn’t slept a single blink all night. She’d even let Baxter up on the foot of the bed, which always made him so happy that it was like going to sleep bathed in the dog’s joy.
Not a single eye blink.
After breakfast—she still needed to get milk and eggs—knowing she was a complete i***t, she drove down to the hangar and pulled out the LongRanger.
Screw the expense! She was going to fly up to Arctic Village on her own dime.
Macy dragged the folded up Bambi fire-fighting bucket to the bird and leveraged it into the cabin…just in case. When in use, the big orange bucket dangled a hundred feet below her helo and could scoop up two hundred gallons in seconds. It took up two seats, but it was worth bringing it along.
She was passing Fairbanks and striking north when her radio squawked.
