The Simple Wild: A Novel
Autor K. A. Tuckeren Limba Engleză Paperback – 24 noi 2022
Calla Fletcher was two when her mother took her and fled the Alaskan wild, unable to handle the isolation of the extreme, rural lifestyle, leaving behind Calla’s father, Wren Fletcher, in the process. Calla never looked back, and at twenty-six, a busy life in Toronto is all she knows. But when her father reaches out to inform her that his days are numbered, Calla knows that it’s time to make the long trip back to the remote frontier town where she was born.
She braves the roaming wildlife, the odd daylight hours, the exorbitant prices, and even the occasional—dear God—outhouse, all for the chance to connect with her father: a man who, despite his many faults, she can’t help but care for. While she struggles to adjust to this new subarctic environment, Jonah—the quiet, brooding, and proud Alaskan pilot who keeps her father’s charter plane company operational—can’t imagine calling anywhere else home. And he’s clearly waiting with one hand on the throttle to fly this city girl back to where she belongs, convinced that she’s too pampered to handle the wild.
Jonah is probably right, but Calla is determined to prove him wrong. As time passes, she unexpectedly finds herself forming a bond with the burly pilot. As his undercurrent of disapproval dwindles, it’s replaced by friendship—or perhaps something deeper? But Calla is not in Alaska to stay and Jonah will never leave. It would be foolish of her to kindle a romance, to take the same path her parents tried—and failed at—years ago.
It’s a simple truth that turns out to be not so simple after all.
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| Random House – 17 aug 2023 | 54.50 lei 26-32 zile | +21.32 lei 10-14 zile |
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781501133435
ISBN-10: 1501133438
Pagini: 400
Dimensiuni: 135 x 210 x 25 mm
Greutate: 0.32 kg
Editura: ATRIA
Colecția Atria Books
ISBN-10: 1501133438
Pagini: 400
Dimensiuni: 135 x 210 x 25 mm
Greutate: 0.32 kg
Editura: ATRIA
Colecția Atria Books
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Notă biografică
K.A. Tucker writes captivating stories with an edge. She is the bestselling author of the Ten Tiny Breaths and Burying Water series and the novels He Will Be My Ruin, Until It Fades, Keep Her Safe, and The Simple Wild. She currently resides in a quaint town outside Toronto with her husband and two beautiful girls.
Extras
The Simple Wild
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November 15, 1993
Anchorage, Alaska
Wren sets the two navy suitcases next to the stroller and then reaches for the cigarette precariously perched between his lips, taking a long, slow drag. He releases smoke into the frigid air. “Just these?”
“And the diaper bag.” I inhale the musky odor. I’ve always hated the smell of tobacco. I still do, except on Wren.
“Right. I’ll go and get that,” he says, dropping the cigarette to the snowy ground and crushing it with his boot. He clasps his callused hands together and blows into them as he rushes back out to the tarmac, shoulders curled inward, to where the Cessna that delivered us here awaits its hour-long flight home.
I quietly watch, huddled in my plush, down-filled coat against the icy wind, fiercely holding onto the resentment I’ve been carrying for months. If I don’t, I’ll quickly be overwhelmed by the pain of disappointment and impending loss, and I won’t be able to go through with this.
Wren returns and settles the hefty red bag on the asphalt, just as a grounds worker swings by to collect my belongings. They exchange pleasantries, as if this is just any other passenger delivery, before the man shuttles my things away.
Leaving us in tense silence.
“So, what time do you get in?” Wren finally asks, giving the perpetual brown scruff on his chin a scratch.
“Noon, tomorrow. Toronto time.” I pray Calla can handle ten hours of traveling without a meltdown. Though, that might distract me from having my own meltdown. At least the next plane is substantial, unlike the tiny things Wren insists on flying. God, how on earth did I ever think marrying a born-and-bred bush pilot was a good idea?
Wren nods to himself, and then pulls our sleepy daughter out of the stroller and into his arms. “And you? Are you ready for your first big plane ride?” His wide grin for his daughter makes my heart twist.
For the hundredth time, I wonder if I’m being the selfish one. If I should grit my teeth and bear the misery, the isolation of Alaska. After all, I made the bed I’m running from now. My father was quick to remind me of that when I admitted to my parents that life with Wren isn’t as romantic as I’d convinced myself it would be. When I admitted that I’ve cried at least once a day for the past year, especially during the painfully long, cold, dark winter, when daylight is sparse. That I hate living in the last great American frontier; that I crave being close to my family and friends, and the urban bustle of my childhood. In my own country.
A deep frown line forms in Wren’s forehead as he plants a kiss on our happy, oblivious seventeen-month-old’s nose and sets her onto the ground. She struggles to toddle around, her stocky body bundled in a thick bubblegum-pink snowsuit to keep the icy wind at bay. “You know you don’t have to leave, Susan.”
As quickly as I’d been softening, I harden again. “And what? Stay here, and be miserable? Sit at home with Calla under a happy lamp while you’re out, risking your life for a bunch of strangers? I can’t do it anymore, Wren. Every day is harder than the last.” At first I thought it was postpartum depression, but after months of flying back and forth to Anchorage just to talk to a therapist and refill a prescription for antidepressants that did little more than make me sluggish, I’ve accepted that it has nothing to do with hormones. And here I was, naïve enough to think Alaskan winters would be manageable, having grown up in Toronto. That being married to the love of my life would outweigh the challenges of living here, of having a husband whose chances of dying at work on any given day are alarmingly high. That my adoration for this man—and the attraction between us—would be enough to overcome anything Alaska threw at me.
Wren slides his hands into the pockets of his navy checkered down vest, focusing his attention on the giant green pom-pom atop Calla’s knit hat.
“Have you at least looked into flights over Christmas?” I dare ask, my last-ditch attempt.
“I can’t take that much time off; you know that.”
“Wren, you own the company!” I throw an arm toward the plane he brought us to Anchorage in, to the ALASKA WILD logo across the body. There are plenty more with the same emblem that make up the Fletcher family business, a charter company left to him after his dad passed away five years ago. “You can do whatever the hell you want!”
“People are counting on me to be here.”
“I’m your wife! I’m counting on you! We are counting on you!” My voice cracks with emotion.
He heaves a sigh and rubs the wrinkles from his brow. “We can’t keep going ’round in circles like this. You knew when you married me that Alaska is my home. You can’t just change your mind now and expect me to up and abandon my entire life.”
Hot tears burn against my cheeks. I furiously smear them away. “And what about my life? Am I the only one who’s ever going to sacrifice in this relationship?” I never planned on falling head over heels for an American charter pilot while I was in Vancouver for a bachelorette party, but I did, and since then, it’s been all on me to keep us together, and I’ve done it with the reckless fervor of a woman madly in love. I moved across the country to British Columbia and enrolled in a horticultural program, just so I could be closer to Alaska. And then, when I found out I was pregnant, I dropped out of school and moved to Wren’s hometown, so we could marry and raise our child together. Only, most days I feel like I’m a single parent, because Wren’s always at the damn airport, or in the air, or making plans to be.
And what am I left with? Dinner plates that grow cold from waiting, a toddler who asks for “Dada” incessantly, and this inhospitable subarctic soil that I’m lucky to grow weeds in. I’ve just kept on giving this man parts of me, not realizing that I was losing myself in the process.
Wren looks past me, watching a commercial plane as it takes off from the nearby international airport. He looks desperate to be back in the air, away from this never-ending fight. “I want you to be happy. If going back to Toronto is what you need to do, then I’m not going to stop you.”
He’s right; we can’t keep doing this, especially if he’s not willing to sacrifice anything to keep me around. But how can he just let us go like this? When I announced that my ticket was one-way, he did little more than grunt. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Expressing feelings has never been one of Wren’s strengths. But for him to simply fly us here and set our belongings on the cold, hard ground next to us . . .
Maybe he doesn’t love us enough.
I hope that my mother is right, and a few months without a wife to cook his meals and warm his bed will jog a change in perspective. He’ll realize that he can fly planes anywhere, including Toronto.
He’ll realize that he doesn’t want to live without us.
I take a deep breath. “I should go.”
He settles those sharp gray eyes on me, the ones that ensnared me four years ago. If I’d had any idea how much heartache the ruggedly handsome man who sat down next to me at a bar and ordered a bottle of Budweiser would cause . . . “So, I guess I’ll see you when you’re ready to come home.” There’s a rare touch of hoarseness to his voice, and it nearly breaks my resolve.
But I hang onto that one word to give me strength: “home.”
That’s just it: Alaska will never feel like my home. Either he truly doesn’t see that or he simply doesn’t want to.
I swallow against the painful ball in my throat. “Calla, say goodbye to your daddy.”
“Bye-bye, Da-da.” She scrunches her mitten-clad hand and gives him a toothy grin.
Obliviously happy as her mother’s heart breaks.
Prologue
November 15, 1993
Anchorage, Alaska
Wren sets the two navy suitcases next to the stroller and then reaches for the cigarette precariously perched between his lips, taking a long, slow drag. He releases smoke into the frigid air. “Just these?”
“And the diaper bag.” I inhale the musky odor. I’ve always hated the smell of tobacco. I still do, except on Wren.
“Right. I’ll go and get that,” he says, dropping the cigarette to the snowy ground and crushing it with his boot. He clasps his callused hands together and blows into them as he rushes back out to the tarmac, shoulders curled inward, to where the Cessna that delivered us here awaits its hour-long flight home.
I quietly watch, huddled in my plush, down-filled coat against the icy wind, fiercely holding onto the resentment I’ve been carrying for months. If I don’t, I’ll quickly be overwhelmed by the pain of disappointment and impending loss, and I won’t be able to go through with this.
Wren returns and settles the hefty red bag on the asphalt, just as a grounds worker swings by to collect my belongings. They exchange pleasantries, as if this is just any other passenger delivery, before the man shuttles my things away.
Leaving us in tense silence.
“So, what time do you get in?” Wren finally asks, giving the perpetual brown scruff on his chin a scratch.
“Noon, tomorrow. Toronto time.” I pray Calla can handle ten hours of traveling without a meltdown. Though, that might distract me from having my own meltdown. At least the next plane is substantial, unlike the tiny things Wren insists on flying. God, how on earth did I ever think marrying a born-and-bred bush pilot was a good idea?
Wren nods to himself, and then pulls our sleepy daughter out of the stroller and into his arms. “And you? Are you ready for your first big plane ride?” His wide grin for his daughter makes my heart twist.
For the hundredth time, I wonder if I’m being the selfish one. If I should grit my teeth and bear the misery, the isolation of Alaska. After all, I made the bed I’m running from now. My father was quick to remind me of that when I admitted to my parents that life with Wren isn’t as romantic as I’d convinced myself it would be. When I admitted that I’ve cried at least once a day for the past year, especially during the painfully long, cold, dark winter, when daylight is sparse. That I hate living in the last great American frontier; that I crave being close to my family and friends, and the urban bustle of my childhood. In my own country.
A deep frown line forms in Wren’s forehead as he plants a kiss on our happy, oblivious seventeen-month-old’s nose and sets her onto the ground. She struggles to toddle around, her stocky body bundled in a thick bubblegum-pink snowsuit to keep the icy wind at bay. “You know you don’t have to leave, Susan.”
As quickly as I’d been softening, I harden again. “And what? Stay here, and be miserable? Sit at home with Calla under a happy lamp while you’re out, risking your life for a bunch of strangers? I can’t do it anymore, Wren. Every day is harder than the last.” At first I thought it was postpartum depression, but after months of flying back and forth to Anchorage just to talk to a therapist and refill a prescription for antidepressants that did little more than make me sluggish, I’ve accepted that it has nothing to do with hormones. And here I was, naïve enough to think Alaskan winters would be manageable, having grown up in Toronto. That being married to the love of my life would outweigh the challenges of living here, of having a husband whose chances of dying at work on any given day are alarmingly high. That my adoration for this man—and the attraction between us—would be enough to overcome anything Alaska threw at me.
Wren slides his hands into the pockets of his navy checkered down vest, focusing his attention on the giant green pom-pom atop Calla’s knit hat.
“Have you at least looked into flights over Christmas?” I dare ask, my last-ditch attempt.
“I can’t take that much time off; you know that.”
“Wren, you own the company!” I throw an arm toward the plane he brought us to Anchorage in, to the ALASKA WILD logo across the body. There are plenty more with the same emblem that make up the Fletcher family business, a charter company left to him after his dad passed away five years ago. “You can do whatever the hell you want!”
“People are counting on me to be here.”
“I’m your wife! I’m counting on you! We are counting on you!” My voice cracks with emotion.
He heaves a sigh and rubs the wrinkles from his brow. “We can’t keep going ’round in circles like this. You knew when you married me that Alaska is my home. You can’t just change your mind now and expect me to up and abandon my entire life.”
Hot tears burn against my cheeks. I furiously smear them away. “And what about my life? Am I the only one who’s ever going to sacrifice in this relationship?” I never planned on falling head over heels for an American charter pilot while I was in Vancouver for a bachelorette party, but I did, and since then, it’s been all on me to keep us together, and I’ve done it with the reckless fervor of a woman madly in love. I moved across the country to British Columbia and enrolled in a horticultural program, just so I could be closer to Alaska. And then, when I found out I was pregnant, I dropped out of school and moved to Wren’s hometown, so we could marry and raise our child together. Only, most days I feel like I’m a single parent, because Wren’s always at the damn airport, or in the air, or making plans to be.
And what am I left with? Dinner plates that grow cold from waiting, a toddler who asks for “Dada” incessantly, and this inhospitable subarctic soil that I’m lucky to grow weeds in. I’ve just kept on giving this man parts of me, not realizing that I was losing myself in the process.
Wren looks past me, watching a commercial plane as it takes off from the nearby international airport. He looks desperate to be back in the air, away from this never-ending fight. “I want you to be happy. If going back to Toronto is what you need to do, then I’m not going to stop you.”
He’s right; we can’t keep doing this, especially if he’s not willing to sacrifice anything to keep me around. But how can he just let us go like this? When I announced that my ticket was one-way, he did little more than grunt. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Expressing feelings has never been one of Wren’s strengths. But for him to simply fly us here and set our belongings on the cold, hard ground next to us . . .
Maybe he doesn’t love us enough.
I hope that my mother is right, and a few months without a wife to cook his meals and warm his bed will jog a change in perspective. He’ll realize that he can fly planes anywhere, including Toronto.
He’ll realize that he doesn’t want to live without us.
I take a deep breath. “I should go.”
He settles those sharp gray eyes on me, the ones that ensnared me four years ago. If I’d had any idea how much heartache the ruggedly handsome man who sat down next to me at a bar and ordered a bottle of Budweiser would cause . . . “So, I guess I’ll see you when you’re ready to come home.” There’s a rare touch of hoarseness to his voice, and it nearly breaks my resolve.
But I hang onto that one word to give me strength: “home.”
That’s just it: Alaska will never feel like my home. Either he truly doesn’t see that or he simply doesn’t want to.
I swallow against the painful ball in my throat. “Calla, say goodbye to your daddy.”
“Bye-bye, Da-da.” She scrunches her mitten-clad hand and gives him a toothy grin.
Obliviously happy as her mother’s heart breaks.
Recenzii
Praise for The Simple Wild
"This book OWNS US. . . .This book is beautiful, y’all, and we are jealous you get to read it for the first time." —Christina Lauren, New York Times bestselling author
"Atmospheric, tender, and with feel-real characters who’ll make you laugh out loud and shed a few tears, this must-read book has it all. Cozy up and relax for the day, because you’ll want to do nothing but devour this stunning novel." —Hannah Mary McKinnon, author of The Neighbors
"This book is anything but simple. It’s got family drama, a journey of self-discovery and romance all rolled into one novel. Tucker blends these elements perfectly for a heartwarming read about a woman juggling a new relationship while trying to reconnect with her estranged father. It will make you think about your own life and the relationships you're in whether it's romantic or family." —Anna Todd, New York Times bestselling author of the After series
Praise for Keep Her Safe:
"Sexy, dark, and unnerving. Keep Her Safe is an addictive read with a tightly constructed plot woven from threads of romantic tension and unexpected twists. I caught myself holding my breath over and over."
"A master of steamy romance, Tucker skillfully threads Noah and Gracie's sexual tension throughout the investigation...No one is above suspicion in this taut, sizzling romantic mystery."
"A heart-pounding romantic thriller...Tucker crafts a shrewd mystery that never falls flat, even as the steady, subtle romantic relationship heats up the page."
"A satisfying change of pace for Tucker."
Praise for Until It Fades:
“Touching and complex…Tucker unerringly hits all the high notes of romance—the spark, the emotional depth, the mental and physical struggles—while creating a couple who seem perfectly attuned even when they are in conflict.”
“A fantastic contemporary romance featuring dysfunction, lies, regrets and illicit transgressions. Set in a small, gossipy Pennsylvania town, with intense and intriguing plot twists and formidably engaging characters, she keeps readers on their toes. But it’s definitely her knight in shining armor and flawed heroine with trust issues, plus an impressive pint-sized costar, who rule every page of this unforgettable story.”
“Lovely, sexy, and well-written, with a great cast of finely-drawn characters. This is a modern-day Cinderella story that will make you hope again. I enjoyed every page.”
"This book OWNS US. . . .This book is beautiful, y’all, and we are jealous you get to read it for the first time." —Christina Lauren, New York Times bestselling author
"Atmospheric, tender, and with feel-real characters who’ll make you laugh out loud and shed a few tears, this must-read book has it all. Cozy up and relax for the day, because you’ll want to do nothing but devour this stunning novel." —Hannah Mary McKinnon, author of The Neighbors
"This book is anything but simple. It’s got family drama, a journey of self-discovery and romance all rolled into one novel. Tucker blends these elements perfectly for a heartwarming read about a woman juggling a new relationship while trying to reconnect with her estranged father. It will make you think about your own life and the relationships you're in whether it's romantic or family." —Anna Todd, New York Times bestselling author of the After series
Praise for Keep Her Safe:
"Sexy, dark, and unnerving. Keep Her Safe is an addictive read with a tightly constructed plot woven from threads of romantic tension and unexpected twists. I caught myself holding my breath over and over."
"A master of steamy romance, Tucker skillfully threads Noah and Gracie's sexual tension throughout the investigation...No one is above suspicion in this taut, sizzling romantic mystery."
"A heart-pounding romantic thriller...Tucker crafts a shrewd mystery that never falls flat, even as the steady, subtle romantic relationship heats up the page."
"A satisfying change of pace for Tucker."
Praise for Until It Fades:
“Touching and complex…Tucker unerringly hits all the high notes of romance—the spark, the emotional depth, the mental and physical struggles—while creating a couple who seem perfectly attuned even when they are in conflict.”
“A fantastic contemporary romance featuring dysfunction, lies, regrets and illicit transgressions. Set in a small, gossipy Pennsylvania town, with intense and intriguing plot twists and formidably engaging characters, she keeps readers on their toes. But it’s definitely her knight in shining armor and flawed heroine with trust issues, plus an impressive pint-sized costar, who rule every page of this unforgettable story.”
“Lovely, sexy, and well-written, with a great cast of finely-drawn characters. This is a modern-day Cinderella story that will make you hope again. I enjoyed every page.”
Descriere
City girl Calla Fletcher attempts to reconnect with her estranged father, and unwittingly finds herself torn between her desire to return to the bustle of Toronto and a budding relationship with a rugged Alaskan pilot in this masterful new romance from acclaimed author K.A. Tucker.
Calla Fletcher was two when her mother took her and fled the Alaskan wild, unable to handle the isolation of the extreme, rural lifestyle, leaving behind Calla's father, Wren Fletcher, in the process. Calla never looked back, and at twenty-six, a busy life in Toronto is all she knows. But when her father reaches out to inform her that his days are numbered, Calla knows that it's time to make the long trip back to the remote frontier town where she was born.
She braves the roaming wildlife, the odd daylight hours, the exorbitant prices, and even the occasional--dear God--outhouse, all for the chance to connect with her father: a man who, despite his many faults, she can't help but care for. While she struggles to adjust to this new subarctic environment, Jonah--the quiet, brooding, and proud Alaskan pilot who keeps her father's charter plane company operational--can't imagine calling anywhere else home. And he's clearly waiting with one hand on the throttle to fly this city girl back to where she belongs, convinced that she's too pampered to handle the wild.
Jonah is probably right, but Calla is determined to prove him wrong. As time passes, she unexpectedly finds herself forming a bond with the burly pilot. As his undercurrent of disapproval dwindles, it's replaced by friendship--or perhaps something deeper? But Calla is not in Alaska to stay and Jonah will never leave. It would be foolish of her to kindle a romance, to take the same path her parents tried--and failed at--years ago.
It's a simple truth that turns out to be not so simple after all.