by Kris Bryant
“You still have a few weeks. Keep me posted on your progress,” she said.
“Let me run something by you. So, the magazine focuses on nature in general. How about I do a story on the sanctuary I’ve been talking about? They do such great work and I’m sure I can get tons of photos there. Plus, I can interview the director, a few of the rangers, one of the veterinarians, and locals about the importance of the place.” I clutched the phone tightly as I waited for her answer. The more I’d thought about it during my drive, the more I loved the idea. I wanted Erin to know I wasn’t wasting time. “I mean, I can still do a side article on fishing. I already have great photos and a lot of information. I just don’t think it would be as exciting as the sanctuary.” I finally shut up long enough for Erin to process my idea.
“You know what, Kennedy? That’s not a bad idea. If you make the sanctuary the feature and write a fun, quirky fishing side story, I think that will work. I’ll run it by Travis and text you later.”
I heard the excitement in her voice and mentally high-fived myself. Screw Dustin Collings. We didn’t need him. Nobody cared about him. The only people I ran into who were excited about him were tourists.
I ended the call and gathered my notes and interviews. Once I downloaded my photos, I stopped jotting things down and looked through all nine hundred and fifty-four photos. There was no way I was going to be able to narrow what I had down to just ten photos. I still had the fishing boat tomorrow which was sure to produce at least three good shots. At least I could use those for the fishing story. I already had a ton of great photos from the sanctuary.
I stopped the slideshow when I found a picture of Brynn loading food into a trough for an elk who was being treated for a hurt leg. He was confined for his own protection. Before our tour the day before, Brynn had stopped to feed the bull since the other rangers were out on calls. We weren’t there for more than ten minutes, but I took at least fifty photos. The one I sent was brilliant. It was the back of Brynn with the majestic elk only a few feet away. There was so much trust going on in the photo. He trusted her not to hurt him, and she trusted him not to hurt her. Brynn was beautiful. Her shoulder muscles strained from lifting the heavy food and pouring it into the bin. The next photo was of her reaching out to the elk and him hesitantly walking into her touch. She was fearless.
I found a few more photos with her, but only one of her face. I zoomed in so I could stare at her. I couldn’t tell if she was eighteen or thirty-five. She didn’t have a single freckle or mole on her face. There was a tiny scar under her lip I hadn’t noticed before. I wondered if it was a childhood injury, or one that happened during her swimming career. The look in her eyes still held an element of innocence.
I hated myself for googling her, but that didn’t stop me from trying. I came up empty searching for Brynn Coleman so I reversed my search method. I knew she was a swimmer at Florida State twelve or thirteen years before. Finally, I found her under the name Brynn Whitfield. Why was she using the name Coleman?
I spent the next hour investigating Brynn Whitfield. In high school, she won state her junior and senior years in the butterfly and the backstroke. I found a picture of her without her swimming cap on. Her long black hair was halfway down her back. I was surprised at how feminine she looked. She was homecoming queen at Franklin High, and Student Body President. She was definitely the sweet girl next door with nothing but opportunity ahead of her. The question was what the hell happened that would make her leave everything? Catching your girlfriend with someone else was horrible, but was it bad enough to change your entire life? I couldn’t imagine. Maybe that’s because I never let my heart lead. Maybe I did at eighteen, but life gave me different wants and dreams as an adult. I was even more determined to find out about Brynn’s past and all of her secrets.
* * *
Things I learned about myself in Alaska: I was in over my head the minute I landed on the ground, and I was just as worthless at sea. The captain gave me a bucket and sat me near the front of the boat away from the others. I was fine until we hit open waters. Open choppy waters. I clung to the side of the boat for dear life. I couldn’t look anywhere but at my boots.
“I have Dramamine if you need some,” the captain said to me. He looked a little crusty, but I felt like that was part of the charm.
I didn’t hesitate to take him up on his offer. My stomach needed to settle so that I could get to work. There were so many interesting characters on this boat and I wanted to talk to them. I gratefully accepted a bottle of water, two saltine crackers, and a Dramamine. It took over an hour to get into my system and work its magic. I also thought the clean, crisp air added to my recovery. My lungs weren’t used to such purity. I was able to look up and around, but walking was still out of the question. I took remarkable photos by only moving my head. I saw all of the fish the customers caught and by the end of the trip, I wobbled over to interview them. My favorite people to talk to were Marge and Bob Cooper from Ohio.
“Even though we’re retired, we felt that we had more energy to expel than we would on a simple cruise. Don’t get me wrong, cruises are great, but look at this. Look at what I’m doing today.” Bob held up a beast of a fish that I was actually afraid of even though it was out of water and almost dead. I decided right then that in the event of an apocalypse, I would be a vegetarian after all canned meats were gone. No way could I fish. Let alone kill and clean one.
“Is your story about deep-sea fishing or just fishing in general? You’re from California. There’s tons of fishing there, too, right?” Marge asked.
I told her that I was in Alaska covering a reality star who scored a television show, but the interview fell through. She had tons of questions about the show that I couldn’t answer. She switched topics to deep-sea fishing off of the coast of California. I stared at her blankly. I named five fish in my head and only knew them because my favorite restaurant in Newport Beach had an incredible menu. I couldn’t answer a single question about California fishing. I went to the beach to enjoy the water, the sun, and a cocktail or two. I knew nothing of any fishing expeditions there.
Marge and Bob told me they decided to fish in Alaska until they could no longer physically do it. She was just as excited as he was about this short day trip. My interview with them was great. They would be a draw for so many older couples thinking about doing more than just a cruise around Alaska.
Out of the eight people who chartered the boat, Marge and Bob caught the biggest halibut. I’d never, in my life, seen a fish that large before. The captain laughed at me and said it was big, but relatively, it was just average. He told me I needed to go to Anchorage in a few weeks when king salmon season started. I would see bigger fish there. Looking at the halibut that was half the size of Marge, I found it hard to believe people wrestled larger beasts from the ocean.
The water was calmer as we headed back to shore so by the time we docked, I felt human again. Lunch was still out of the question, so I hung around the fishing shacks instead, took photos, and eavesdropped on conversations. Most of the people who chartered the boats were beginners and wanted the fishing experience. When there weren’t any clients, the boats went out and fished anyway. Restaurants paid top dollar for genuine Alaskan halibut. There was a lot of hard work that went into fishing and I certainly had a new appreciation for it. Never would I take my lightly grilled and seasoned halibut for granted again.
The fishing excursion was enough for a quirky and fun story. I’d include a playful approach using my seasickness with a write up of Bob and Marge as the typical tourists and their experience. It wouldn’t paint me in the best light, but what did I care? Nobody I knew read A&A.
As much as I enjoyed Homer, I felt more at ease at the cabin in Anchorage so I decided to head back. Besides, I was excited to see Brynn again. I would go to the sanctuary this week to finish the tour and maybe steal a few more breathtaking kisses. I was excited to see Wally, too. I checked my semi-worthless GPS and it put me in Anchorage at my cabi
n at 5:32 p.m. Plenty of time to unwind and get cracking on the story, barring any unforeseen incidents with moose or any other of Alaska’s ginormous animals.
Chapter Ten
“How hard could it be to start a fire?” I asked no one in particular. I’d seen a thousand movies where people threw newspapers, logs, and a match on the stand inside a fireplace. I’d only ever used gas fireplaces and it wasn’t hard to push a button, but it couldn’t be that difficult to start a real fire.
In the hour since I’d returned to the cabin, I had fixed a quick and unfulfilling salad and was ready to sit in front of a warm fire to fight off the chilly evening. My fishing story was starting to form and I was excited to crack open my laptop. I found some balled up paper and logs stacked on the side of the fireplace. I shoved paper on the iron rack, threw some smaller logs on top, and lit it. The flames ate at the newspaper quickly, then attacked the logs. I proudly sat back to admire my handiwork. That wasn’t so hard. I should’ve grabbed marshmallows at the grocery store to roast. When was the last time I did that?
Everything was going great until the cabin filled with smoke and, naturally, I panicked. Why wasn’t the smoke going up the chimney like it was supposed to? What the fuck did I do wrong? I paced the cabin and decided to open the windows and door to air out the thickening smoke. The only thing I could think of was to douse the fire. I raced to the kitchen to fill a pan with water when I heard someone bust through the door.
“What’s going on? Kennedy? Are you in here?”
“Brynn. Is that you?” I raced over to the silhouette.
“Yes. Why’s there so much smoke?” she asked, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket.
“I started a fire in the fireplace, but it must be broken.”
She grabbed my sleeve as I headed back to the kitchen for my pot of water. “Hang on. Did you open the damper?”
There was a damper and it needed to be opened? News to me. “No.” I was too terrified to even consider lying.
Brynn crawled over to the fireplace and twisted a knob on the floor. After a minute, the smoke was no longer billowing into the cabin, but enough was still pouring out the windows that it was going to take some time to air out. Brynn found me and grabbed my hand.
“Let’s go outside for a bit until the smoke dissipates.” She held my hand the entire time she pulled me out of the cabin. Her fingers were strong where they pressed my hand.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I turned when I heard sirens coming onto the property. I held my head with both my hands and groaned. “Why do bad things keep happening to me?”
Brynn turned on her heel and met the fire truck before it got to the cabin. She climbed on the step and talked to the firemen. I picked the most inopportune moments to admire her uniform and its tight fit. She was so tall, she almost didn’t need to use the step to talk to the driver. He immediately shut off the siren. Everybody looked at me. I was a mixture of embarrassed and angry at myself. I threw my hands up in the air like I did nothing wrong. Two of the firemen jumped down and walked over.
“So, you’ve never started a fire before?” The older fireman eyed me with an amused look. He elbowed his sidekick and smirked. His sidekick snickered and covered it with a cough. I looked for Brynn, but she was busy talking to Cee. “It’s not that hard. It’s not like it’s rocket science.” The sidekick laughed. My inner bitch bubbled to the surface.
“Look, Judgy McJudge, I’m sure you rock the shit out of making fires and putting them out. And I’m sure you’ve never made a mistake in your life because I can tell that you are perfect.” I purposely looked him up and down, slowly. I did not have a pleasant look on my face. “Not all of us are comfortable doing new things, but at least I’m giving it a try. If you came here strictly to be a dick and make me feel worse, congratulations. You’ve succeeded.” I marched up the stairs and back into the cabin just to get away from him. I didn’t care how much I coughed, I wasn’t going to stand around and be insulted by him.
“Kennedy. Where are you? Come here.” I turned to find Brynn standing in the doorway again.
“He’s an asshole.”
“Agreed, but I want you to be outside until the cabin clears completely. I told them to leave, but they want to check the place first. Let’s go for a quick walk or go out on the deck.” She knew exactly how to calm me. I walked over to her, my body still rigid from the exchange. She grabbed both my hands and playfully shook them back and forth until I smiled.
“Okay, but I don’t want them to go through my things. They’ll probably steal a pair of panties as a trophy. I don’t trust them,” I said.
She nodded sternly while dragging me out to the back deck. She sat me in one of the chairs. “Stay here while I let them in. I’ll be in there the whole time to make sure they don’t try to rummage through your stuff.” She disappeared inside. The smoke was clearing so I could see her motion for the firemen to come in. Jerks. They were quick to assess it and left within a few minutes. The sidekick tipped his hat at me on his way out. I ignored him.
“Yeah, so I didn’t know about the damper. I’m sorry. Is Cee going to kick me out?” I asked Brynn as she sat on the chair next to mine.
Brynn handed me my glass of wine. I loved that she thought to bring me my drink. “She’s fine. There isn’t any damage. A little bit of smoke smell, but that would’ve happened anyway even with a controlled fire.” She smiled at me.
“How many times have you saved me? Three? Four? I’ve lost count,” I said. My wine tasted smoky, but I still drank it. It calmed my frazzled nerves.
“So have I,” she said playfully. She leaned over to nudge my knee. “I’ll just have to check in on you every day.”
My heart raced. Every day for the next two weeks sounded fantastic. “Were you checking in on me?” I wondered what she was doing here.
“No, not really. I came by to apologize for leaving so abruptly the other day at the sanctuary. And I realized I didn’t have your phone number so I had to communicate the old-fashioned way. In person.”
I wanted to reach over and touch her smile, but we weren’t there yet. Too bad, because I could have used a Brynn Coleman kiss. “I’m glad that you did. I would’ve been a complete wreck without you. Cee would’ve kicked me out for sure.” I leaned back in the chair and stared at the view, but couldn’t appreciate it at the moment. I was borderline distraught.
“She understands this is all new to you and feels bad that she didn’t have any instructions, so in a way you helped her. She’s going to have them printed out, step-by-step, and put into each cabin to prevent future similar situations.” Brynn put air quotes around similar situations.
I shuddered recalling the last half hour of my life. “Thank you. Again. So I owe you at least two dinners and my firstborn. Is that right?”
She turned toward me and pushed her hair back from her eyes. Her eyes were bright and expressive. I imagined she left a lot of broken hearts. I watched as she wiggled out of her jacket, her breasts pressed firmly against her gray button-down shirt. “Maybe even more.” She lifted her eyebrow at me.
I grinned. “You’re right.” Those were words I never said in my other life. I was always stubborn and headstrong, even when I was wrong. Yet, I had no desire to fake anything with Brynn. She saw the real me, bare bones, at several low points, and hadn’t run away. “I owe you whatever you want.”
Brynn could have said anything right then, but instead she leaned forward and kissed me again. It was soft and sweet and I craved more when she pulled away. I was so ready for her to take control of us and maybe not throw me down, but at least make a move. I wanted to know what her body on top of mine felt like. Most of my casual encounters were women about my size and the sex was fast and hard. Brynn was taller and stronger than any woman I had ever kissed. I wanted her to touch me everywhere, slowly. I pulled her to me and kissed her with the passion and desire I felt. Maybe the adrenaline of the moment and watching her take control of the situation turned me o
n, but I was not going to settle for just a sweet kiss.
Her mouth was so warm on mine. Her tongue darted out to lick my bottom lip, then my top one. She was teasing me. Just when I was ready to growl in frustration, she slipped her tongue inside of my mouth, slowly, deeply. I whimpered in submission. She pulled me to my feet as she stood up, and continued to kiss me as her strong hands dropped to my hips. I moved into her, my body fully pressed against hers. I felt her stiffen and take a step back.
“Um, so I should probably go check on the fire,” she said when she broke our kiss.
We both stood there panting. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. She was saying no to me. Nobody was this chivalrous. She was attracted to me. Nobody could kiss like that and not feel something, anything. I wasn’t going to beg though. I straightened my clothes and nodded at her.
She walked in and headed straight for the fire. It was still burning, but completely under control, unlike my libido. Brynn took a poker and stirred the logs. Most of the smoke was gone so I closed the door, but left the windows open. I shivered.
“You should put a sweater on or come over here to the fire,” she said quietly.
I didn’t want to be that close to her for fear of making a fool of myself. Again. I headed to the loft and found a sweater in the dresser. I didn’t have a lot of clothes and decided I needed to pick up a few more things. I would get sick of myself after two more weeks of the same two sweaters, boring sweatshirts, and jeans. Even though I was mad at Brynn, I was determined to at least look my best around her from now on.
