“Oh, dear god, are you all right?”
“I am, yes.”
“Terrifying.”
“It was,” she agreed.
He exhaled. “I’m relieved to hear you’re okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m okay,” she lied.
She heard him shuffle some papers around. She could imagine him in his office, elbows leaning on the mahogany desk, bookshelves overflowing with volumes thin and fat. “Listen, Alex, I know how fond you are of Brad, and that you moved all the way out there to be with him, but how would you feel about a field job?”
“To study what?” she asked, sitting back down on the stool.
“Wolverines.”
Alex’s mood instantly brightened. Wolverines meant the mountains, and mountains meant rugged landscapes, meadows strewn with wildflowers, and, perhaps best of all, a little solitude and quiet. “Consider my interest piqued.”
“An old friend of mine is the executive director of the LTWC. The Land Trust for Wildlife Conservation. Have you heard of it?”
“I have.” She knew they’d bought tons of connective lands for wildlife corridors. People also donated land to them or put conservation easements on their own land for the protection of wildlife and waterways. In other parts of the world, they worked to eliminate poaching and animal trafficking.
“They’ve secured a massive donation of land. It’s the site of an old ski resort in Montana, a mecca of the elite back in the thirties through the sixties. It finally closed down in the early nineties and has been sitting vacant ever since. The owner donated his adjacent private land, too, so the property is a little over twenty thousand acres, mostly montane forest and alpine zones. They had some people out there initially to survey the area and inventory species, do a little mapping. But what they’re really interested in at this point is a wolverine population study.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“Back when the resort was being built, there were a few eyewitness accounts of them. But the sightings dwindled as more winter activity took place up there. When more ski runs were opened, sightings went to zilch. One hasn’t been seen up there since 1946. But now that the resort is closed down, the LTWC is wondering if wolverines are returning to the area. They had a guy out there, but he had to leave suddenly to fly to London for a family emergency. So the position’s yours if you want it.”
Alex remained still, blinking. Outside, more horns blared and she heard someone angrily yell, “Get outta my way!” In the distance, sirens wailed, and the smell of car exhaust from the busy street below filtered up into her flat. Reporters intermittently pressed the buzzer to her apartment, wanting to talk to her.
She glanced to the corner where Brad’s things were boxed up: some law books, a baseball signed by Lefty Grove of the Boston Red Sox, a handful of clothes, and some half-filled legal pads, his cramped, tiny print visible from where she sat.
Philip went on. “It would mean hiking in some pretty steep terrain, and you’d be out there through the winter alone. They don’t have the funding to hire more than one person. But you’d be able to stay in the old resort, which should be a sprawling place full of rooms you could choose from. I just recommend not watching The Shining before you head up there.”
She laughed, feeling a little stunned at the sudden opportunity. “I’ll do it,” she said after a pause.
“You will?” He sounded a little surprised. “You don’t want to think about it?”
“It sounds like just what I need.”
“Wonderful! I told him what a meticulous researcher you are, and he’s pleased as punch to have you.”
“When do I leave?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s the not-so-great part. The LTWC is sending out their regional coordinator tomorrow. He was going to meet with that other researcher, catch up on his findings. But now he’ll have to show the new person the ropes. He only has the one day, because he’s got to be back in Washington, DC, to meet with a research team who’s heading out to South Africa for a rhino anti-poaching project. It’s got to be tomorrow.”
Alex’s eyes widened and she stood up off the stool. “Tomorrow? They want me to be in Montana tomorrow?”
“Yes. Think you could pull it off?”
She glanced around the room, mentally thinking of what she’d have to pack, the gear she’d need.
Philip read her mind. “They have the field equipment you’ll need out there. GPS units, remote cameras, a microscope. So all you’d need are your field clothes.”
Her mind went to her closet: her boots, internal-frame backpack, water purifier, rain gear. “I can do it,” she told him.
“Excellent!”
She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Philip. To be honest, I’ve been really restless here lately, and things haven’t worked out with Brad.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. You two were thick as thieves here.”
A heaviness pressed down on her heart. She remembered strolling across the Berkeley campus with Brad, her heart light, laughing, pausing to kiss in the quad, feeling that anything was possible. “Things change, I guess,” she said, feeling lame at summing up everything that had happened in two such tiny words. She didn’t want Philip to feel uncomfortable with her bringing up something so personal, so she quickly added, “So this is perfect. A chance to get away. To clear my head. To see wolverines.”
“To see wolverines!” Philip agreed. “Can you imagine?”
She could already smell the high country, with its sun-warmed pines. “Indeed I can.”
Over the phone, she heard someone knock on the professor’s office door. “Oh, I’ve got a student appointment. Call this number, and the LTWC travel coordinator will get you on a flight today.” He read off a number and she wrote it down on a pad of paper stuck to her fridge.
“Good luck!” he told her and then hung up.
Alex sat back down on the stool. Montana. The Rocky Mountains.
She let herself catch her breath, then started scrawling notes on the same slip of paper, items she’d need to pack now and things like toiletries that she could pick up in the nearest little town in Montana. Her hand paused on the pad of paper as she questioned what she was doing. She’d be in Montana tomorrow? Was it the right thing to do? What about working things out with Brad? But she was done with her research, and the timing was right.
She snapped out of her doubts and called the nonprofit’s travel coordinator. The woman was kind and efficient, thanking Alex for helping out the organization on such short notice. She booked Alex on a ten p.m. flight that got into Missoula the next morning and arranged for a rental car at the airport. Alex was to return the car at a drop-off location in rural northwest Montana, where a local would pick her up and drive her out to the old resort where she’d be staying. There was a truck already there she could use whenever she needed to go into town. It had been donated along with the resort. Alex thanked her and hung up, already mentally packing.
She went to her closet and pulled out her worn, familiar blue backcountry pack and began stuffing it with clothes. Polypropylene shirts, fleece jackets and vests, a couple of warm hats, a sun hat, a pair of comfortable shoes. She’d wear her hiking boots on the plane. Some jeans and cotton shirts.