Under Alaskan Skies by Grace Carol

yet.
    “I don’t know,” he said soberly. “I know I’ll never forget you. Never forget this time we’ve spent together. For me, every minute is precious. Every bird, every tree is different from anything I’ve seen before. Those mountains in the distance, the water, the town—” he took a deep breath and went on even though he might be sorry later “—and you, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
    She didn’t answer. She bit her lip and turned to look out the window. He didn’t know if he’d offended her or not. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.
    “I haven’t met many future plastic surgeons, either,” she said. “So we’re even.”
    “That’s not exactly what I meant,” he said. “And I think you know it.”
    “All right, plastic surgeon or tree surgeon, you’re different from anyone I’ve ever met,” she admitted. “And I won’t forget you, either.”

Chapter Five
    Matt was touched by Carrie’s words. More than touched, he was warmed. Clear down to the toes in his boots. He didn’t say anything. He just let the words hang in the air— I won’t forget you, either —until he handed over the controls to Carrie in midstream before they got to the island. He stood outside on the deck and watched admiringly as she expertly edged the launch up to the side of an old wooden dock. Then he jumped out and wrapped the rope around a post. He held out his hand to grab her as she jumped down to the rickety dock. There were boards missing so he opened his arms to catch her just in case. It wasn’t a rational decision to put his arms around her and hug her tightly, it just happened. They both let go at the same time, as if they’d shared the same thought, the same warning. Be careful. Not just of rotten boards, but of passion out of control. Keep your distance. This was happening too fast. Much too fast.
    “This is it,” she said, with a wide gesture as they stepped off the dock onto the muddy ground. “St. Elias Island, or as the natives called it, Yukatak Island.There’s not much left except the church. But that’s worth the trip all by itself. At least I think so.”
    Carrie led the way down a narrow winding path overgrown with brambles that tore at their clothes as they walked single file toward the church. The crows overhead screamed at them as if to warn the forest creatures of their arrival. Once she reached back with her hand and he took it. He loved the way she walked, with a confident spring in her step. He loved the way her hair brushed her shoulders, a bright flame of color in the gray misty air. He loved the way her hips swayed in her brown corduroy slacks. Was there anything about her he didn’t love?
    They walked that way, single file, but hand in hand until they reached the clearing where the remains of the church stood. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the four standing walls made of logs. The roof had fallen in, but the rotten roof beams were still there, resting against the walls as if a giant had been playing with his toy house and had suddenly abandoned it for something more interesting.
    “This is amazing,” he said.
    She nodded, smiling, pleased at his approval. “Wait till you see the inside.”
    Though the roof was gone and whitewashed walls were cracked and gray, he still knew he was in a church. A hush had fallen over the forest. Even the birds were quiet. There were pictures painted on the walls, faded, but still beautiful, one of a Madonna, others of various saints whose names he didn’t know.
    Carrie didn’t say anything. She hoped he’d appreciate it as much as she did, but that was asking a lot. This had always been her special spot. Not just hers,of course. Others came here. Maggie came here. But as president of the historical society of Mystic, it held a special spot in her heart.
    She’d never brought anyone here before, not even her fiancé. She stood back and let Matt discover the church by himself. He walked around and