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breathe. She hoped to hell relief would arrive, some answer to the strongest premonitory rush she’d ever experienced. Surely her first day as a junior guide hadn’t caused such a reaction, but something much more.
    Too wired to sleep, she padded to the kitchen to make coffee. She lived in a sparsely furnished apartment above the Eidson Eco-Tours offices, Dita in the other. Pasha had learned long ago to minimize her personal possessions for maximum mobility. In the thirteen years since she’d graduated college, she’d already lived in six states, moving to a new location and new job every couple of years when her intuition insisted.
    After she showered, dressed, and answered her e-mail she wandered to the Den for breakfast. Spotting Bryson and Karla in the corner booth, she headed their way after pouring herself another cup of coffee. Bryson waved, and Karla, who’d been resting her head on Bryson’s shoulder, sat upright and sleepily rubbed her eyes.
    “Good morning. I know you’re headed to Fairbanks to pick up clients,” Pasha told Bryson before turning her attention to Karla. “But why are you up this early?”
    “Have to check on a couple of patients in town this afternoon.” Karla opened her thick black cardigan to reveal her scrubs beneath. “And I’m kinda reliant on my ride’s schedule.”
    “Believe me, honey, I wasn’t any more anxious than you to crawl from under that big warm comforter this morning.” Bryson wrapped her arm around Karla’s shoulder and squeezed, both smiling. Pasha envied the unmistakable head-over-heels gaze of affection and mutual adoration that passed between them. The honeymoon look, still vivid and constant after two years. They lived more than thirty miles north of Bettles, in a primitive cabin on the Wild River accessible only by air or boat. Karla had no option but to hitch a ride with Bryson. In winter, they lived in a room in the Den so Bryson could continue to fly.
    “You oughta talk, by the way.” Bryson studied Pasha’s face with a curious expression. “What’s up? You’re all flushed.”
    “Just woke up like a shot, an hour ago,” Pasha replied. “Remember what we were talking about the other day, Karla?”
    “The big event that’s coming?”
    Pasha nodded. “I think it’s today. I’m about to come out of my skin.”
    Bryson leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with interest. “Another premonition?” Pasha had volunteered quite a lot to them about her sixth sense.
    “Like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s been building for days, and waiting is driving me crazy.”
    “Something good, though, right?” Bryson asked.
    “I think so,” Pasha said. “I’m not getting the same kind of vibe I do when I sense disaster, but I’m not sure.”
    “Think it has to do with the clients I’m picking up?” Bryson asked.
    “Could be, I guess, since that’s the only thing different about today, but I don’t see how. The first trip involves three married couples from California. All friends, on a fly-fishing excursion. I didn’t recognize any of their names.”
    “Well, if they’re it, we’ll know soon enough.” Bryson tied her long brown hair back into a ponytail and donned her trademark ball cap with its embroidered logo, I Can Take You There.
    “Better get going. Anxious to check out the new plane.” Dita had purchased a used green-and-white Cessna Caravan 208 for ferrying clients in Bettles, and this would be its inaugural flight for the company. Like Bryson’s Piper Super Cub, the high-winged Cessna could land on short makeshift runways, making it ideal for bush flying. Versatile, it carried up to nine passengers or twenty-seven hundred pounds of cargo.
    “Be careful, honey,” Karla said. “I know you’re eager to see what it can do, but—”
    “No worries.” Bryson kissed her on top of her head as she got to her feet and grabbed her coat. “Supposed to be clear and sunny from here to Fairbanks, with light winds.” She headed off