Rain Shadow

by L. A. Witt

  When the bus rolled onto the ferry in Port Townsend, a few people were still awake. The boat’s gentle rocking motion finished most of them off, though—the boat wasn’t halfway across the water, and nearly everyone was sound asleep.

  I was struggling hard not to join them. As long as I was on the clock, I could not fall asleep, so I walked up and down the aisle a few times. Went outside to get some air and coffee. Walked the aisle again.

  “You can always sleep like everyone else,” our guide chirped after my umpteenth lap.

  “No, no, I . . .” Think you’re somehow sucking all the energy out of the group, you perky little shit. “Just don’t want to sit too long. Fucks with my back.”

  He frowned. “The river can get a little rough. You going to be okay on that boat?”

  I waved a hand. “I’ll be fine. Long as I move around a bit now.”

  “Okay. Well, just holler if you’re not sure!”

  Wincing, I nodded. The guy’s voice was completely bearable at a normal hour after a full night’s sleep. This early, though? Ugh.

  Shouldn’t you be testing the oxygen levels in a mine somewhere?

  I headed back toward my seat.

  Scott hadn’t moved. Like everyone else, he was out cold. He’d pulled his baseball cap down over his face, and really all I could see of him were his long fingers, folded loosely together in his lap.

  No ring. No tan line from a ring.

  That could mean a lot of things, but he was also here alone. For all I knew, he was a straight guy who didn’t like wearing his wedding band. Or single, but straight nonetheless.

  Though it was possible he was gay. There was no shortage of gay men in Bluewater Bay, after all. I’d heard that the arrival of Wolf’s Landing had upped the town’s queer population by a significant percentage, so there were more than most places, and it could be safely assumed that a person might be queer.

  Still, that wasn’t an assumption to make off the cuff, especially not if we were going to be stuck on the same bus and boat for the next twelve hours.

  But hey, at least he was something to focus on and keep myself awake with for the time being.

  After the ferry dropped us off, the bus took us across a few of the islands in the north end of Puget Sound, then continued along the highway toward the town of Sedro-Woolley. Not far from where the highway intersected with Interstate 5, the driver pulled into a parking lot. There, people started stirring.

  Our impossibly perky guide jumped up and faced us. “Okay, folks. Rise and shine!”

  Grumbles and murmurs rippled through the bus.

  “We’re in Sedro-Woolley,” he went on. “So if you want coffee or you need to use the restroom, now’s the time. We should be in eagle country in—” he made a big show of checking his watch “—a little under an hour.”

  In front of me, Leigh stood and stretched. “You guys want anything?”

  “The usual.” Anna got up to let her girlfriend out. “You need money?”

  “I’ve got it. Jeremy?”

  “Coffee.”

  Leigh laughed. “Could you be more specific?”

  “Surprise me. Just make sure it’s very, very caffeinated.”

  “High octane, super unleaded. Got it.”

  “Thank you.”

  She followed a few other people off the bus.

  Anna dropped back into her seat and scrubbed her hand over her face.

  “How you holding up?” I asked.

  “I’ll be better once I start mainlining some coffee.”

  “I hear that.”

  She craned her neck to look at me. “You don’t mind us dragging you along for this, do you?”

  “Nah. Can’t be any worse than when you made me sit through that god-awful play in town.”

  “Oh, come on!” She smacked my arm. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Uh-huh. Levi still owes me for that night.”

  Anna clicked her tongue. “Clearly you just don’t appreciate good theater.”

  “Please. I probably appreciate it more than you do.”

  “Except when Levi directs it.”

  “I’m not saying he’s a bad director. I’m just saying that play was badly directed. Or just bad. I don’t know.”

  She laughed. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell him to consult with you for the next one.”

  I chuckled.

  Movement beside me caught my eye, and when I turned my head, I met Scott’s gaze. He gave a quiet laugh, as if our conversation had amused him, and then stood and stretched.

  “You going in?” He nodded toward the mini-mart.

  I shook my head. “No, I—” I hesitated, glancing at Anna, then shrugged. “My friend’s getting us coffee.”

  Anna twisted around. “I can text her and have her bring one more if you want.”

  “No, no. That’s okay.” He rolled his shoulders. “I should probably move around a bit anyway. Excuse me.”

  Anna and I straightened in our seats to let him go by, and as he made his way off the bus . . .

  Goddamn.

  That ass.

  As I shifted my attention back to Anna, she smirked, and my face burned.

  “Shut up,” I muttered.

  “I didn’t say a word.” She smothered a giggle.

  “Uh-huh.”

  A few minutes later, Leigh returned with coffee and, bless her heart, a pack of chocolate-covered doughnuts. I wasn’t usually big on sweet stuff—neither were the two of them—but, this morning those little bastards hit the spot.

  I was just sucking some of the icing off my index finger when Scott returned, and goddamn him, his eyes went straight to me.

  We both froze for a second.

  Then he cleared his throat, and I lowered my hand. He took his seat again while I wiped my hand off and dropped the napkin in the bag we’d all been using for trash.

  “Is the coffee decent?” he asked, gesturing with his steaming cup.

  I shrugged. “It’s not Stomping Grounds, but it gets the job done.”

  “Good enough.” He brought the cup to his lips and carefully took a sip. As he lowered it, he wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, definitely not Stomping Grounds.”

  “It’s caffeine, though.”

  “And God bless caffeine at this hour.” He rolled his eyes. “Man, this seemed like a good idea when I bought my ticket.” Bringing the coffee up again, he added, “Should’ve looked at the schedule first.”

  “I hear that.”

  “I think next time I’ll drive over the night before and get a hotel room.”

  Whatever witty comment I might’ve had died with the mental image of Scott and a hotel room. I shook myself and swallowed some of my own coffee.

  While everyone nursed their coffee and munchies, the bus pulled out of the gas station parking lot. Diesel engines groaning, it continued down a two-lane highway that took us past some rolling farm country before following the Skagit River into the forested foothills of the Cascades.

  Heavy mist hung low over the trees, obscuring the higher branches. This was the kind of weather I’d anticipated when I’d moved to Washington, but it wasn’t as dreary and depressing as I’d expected. Maybe because it was temporary—tomorrow, I’d be back in sunny Bluewater Bay—but also because it gave this whole area an otherworldly atmosphere.

  “Mom, look!” A kid pointed out the window, and everyone looked just in time to see a bald eagle with an impossibly huge wingspan sail down from a tree branch. A second later, it rose again, vanishing into the mist.

  “Wow,” Leigh said. “I didn’t realize they were that big.”

  “No kidding,” Anna said. “I knew they were big, but . . . damn.”

  “Seriously.” I turned to Scott. “Maybe this trip was worth getting up early after all.”

  He’d leaned across the aisle to see the eagle and now sat back. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  Something about his smile gave me pause. As if he’d winked at me, but . . . he hadn’t.


  “So.” He cleared his throat. “You by yourself?”

  “No, I’m . . .” I gestured at Anna and Leigh. “With friends.”

  “Oh, right. You mentioned that.” Scott glanced at them. He started to speak again, but that singsong voice from the front interrupted.

  “Oh, look at this, folks!” The guide pointed outside. “There’s a juvenile right above us and three adults in that tree there.”

  The bus slowed down, and as one, the whole group looked outside. The juvenile—almost entirely black, with his wings partially spread as if to dry them out—was maybe twenty feet above us, perched right next to the trunk of a bare maple tree. Three striking adults were spread out amongst the branches in the next tree.

  All around, people spoke in hushed tones—as if we might spook the birds despite the closed windows—and cameras buzzed and snapped.

  The bus kept moving, though.

  Our guide called out, “We’ll stop on the way back if we see more, but we have to get to the river to meet our boat.” He tapped his watch as if any of us needed a visual cue that we were on a schedule. Though at this ungodly hour, maybe some of us did.

  Minutes later, we reached the river. On the rocky shore there were two boats waiting for us. Everyone filed off the bus, and a couple of young guys handed us life jackets.

  My life jacket was uncomfortable as fuck over my holster—I was pretty sure this thing wasn’t designed to share rib space with a Sig Sauer. With some monkeying around and creative rerouting of straps, I was able to put it on and still have access to my gun. Not that I suspected I’d need it, but I didn’t want to take chances. Nor did I want the gun visible. Worst-case scenario, I had the smaller .38 in an ankle holster.

  Life jackets on, we all continued down to where the boats were tied.

  And the boat operator was . . . wow. Damn. Between him and Scott, I had plenty to look at even if I didn’t see another eagle for the rest of the trip. Maybe getting up at ass thirty this morning had been worth it.

  My own thought almost made me laugh out loud. It had been too long since I’d been laid, hadn’t it? I was starting to see the world through the only thing more deceptive than beer goggles—desperation goggles.

  Or maybe the guy really did have an ass that looked that good. As he bent over to pull a line into the boat, I couldn’t help stealing a few glances.

  Yeah. I needed to get laid, and soon.

  Especially since I was on the clock, and I was supposed to be watching for anyone who might try to fuck with Anna, not anyone I might try to fuck. Even out here, where my presence was more of a formality than anything, I had to keep my guard up.

  “The minute you decide nothing’s going to happen,” one of my instructors had drilled into my head, “is the minute shit goes south.”

  Once everyone was aboard, the outboard motor revved, and the boat pulled away from the launch. The river was deep and wide, the current strong but not fast enough to make the boat feel out of control. Which was good. I’d gone white-water rafting with my kids once, and . . . no, thanks.

  This was nice, though. And the scenery was stunning. With the low-hanging mist, the atmosphere contrasted sharply with the perpetual sunniness of Bluewater Bay. Much like I’d expected nothing but gloomy weather, this was what I’d expected Washington to look like—gray, wet, with thick moss on the trees and long-dead leaves scattered all over the rocky shore.

  And . . . wow. The brochure had promised there’d be loads of birds, but I still couldn’t believe how many there were. Every time the boat went around a bend, there’d be more. As many as three or four in a single tree. Two fighting over a salmon carcass. Another youngster on a tree branch. A massive adult soaring low over the water. The biggest bird I’d ever seen, trying to chase some crows away from another half-rotted salmon. I’d probably seen half a dozen eagles in my entire life, and now they were just . . . everywhere.

  During a particularly clear stretch, where the mist wasn’t hanging quite so low, I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. Not good enough for National Geographic, but they’d be all right for Facebook. Maybe I’d upload them later when I had some signal.

  Three rows up, Scott craned his neck to see something the person next to him was pointing out. For a few seconds, I forgot all about the eagles, and instead caught myself wondering what it would feel like—and what sounds he’d make—if I ran my lips along the skin between his scruffy jaw and his collar. God, maybe I’d just been sleeping alone too much lately, and—

  I pulled my gaze away. I wasn’t getting paid to ogle strangers on this trip. Hot strangers. Possibly single strangers. Maybe even gay strangers.

  I shook myself. What the hell was wrong with me today?

  After one last glance in Scott’s direction, I shifted my focus toward Anna and Leigh. In front of me, they sat close to each other, pointing out birds and, as near as I could tell, having a great time. Good for them. They needed this. Maybe that counselor had been onto something.

  Eventually, the boat turned back, and we retraced the stretch of river we’d already gone down. Some of the birds were in the same places they’d been before. Others had moved. By the time we reached the boat launch, the sight of an eagle—or several eagles—had ceased to be a surprise, but it was still impressive. They really were amazing birds.

  Everyone disembarked, and we slowly made our way back toward the bus. Some people stopped for group photos or selfies while others watched the river and a pair of eagles arguing over a tree branch.

  Scott and the boat operator were looking at something on Scott’s phone. They made eye contact, and Scott’s smile might not have done anything to the presumably straight boat operator, but it sure spun my head around.

  Get a grip, idiot.

  I pulled my gaze away and stayed on Anna and Leigh’s heels as they headed back with the others. On the bus, I scrolled through the photos I’d taken. Despite the mist, some of them had actually turned out decently, but my chest tightened. There was a time when I’d have sent the photos to my kids. Haley had always loved birds of prey, and Zach liked anything with animals.

  They probably wouldn’t be interested in them now. Most teenagers didn’t particularly care about random texts and photos from their parents anyway. Mine would just as soon I never sent them anything. Haley had barely spoken to me since the divorce, especially in the last six months, and Zach just wanted to know if I was going to teach him to drive when they came to see me this summer. Or when he came to see me. If Haley didn’t want to, then I wouldn’t push her. Neither would her mother.

  “Jeremy?” Anna’s voice brought me back into the present.

  I shook myself and turned to her. “Sorry. What?”

  She eyed me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” I shoved my phone into my pocket. “Just, uh, trying to figure out how much Photoshop it’ll take to make these presentable enough for Facebook.”

  She studied me like she didn’t buy it. And maybe she didn’t—we’d both vented about our respective personal situations, and she knew more than most people about my divorce’s aftermath, so she probably knew what was on my mind. Still, she put on a smile. “Well, if you don’t have any good ones, check with Leigh.” She nodded toward her girlfriend, who was talking to our guide about something. “She got a few amazing shots.”

  “Good. I’ll, uh, check with her if mine don’t come out.”

  We held each other’s gaze for a moment.

  You sure you’re doing okay?

  You sure you’re doing okay?

  She nodded.

  I nodded.

  And we broke eye contact and settled into our seats for the bus ride back.

  With the caffeine wearing off, the heat blasting, and the fatigue of How early did I get up? setting in, people started dropping like flies before the bus had gone two miles. And with the steady hum of road noise and the constant motion, even I could barely stay awake.

  In fact, despite my best efforts, I dozed off.
>
  I awoke when we pulled into the gas station. Now my head was throbbing, and I desperately needed some coffee, but I didn’t want to wake Anna. I couldn’t leave her, though, so I made a “you fly, I’ll buy” deal with someone else who was going inside. With the giant cup of high-octane espresso in hand, I wasn’t falling asleep again anytime soon.

  I turned, and my pulse shot up. Like nearly everyone else, Scott was asleep. Hat pulled down over his eyes, head turned slightly to one side, drawing my attention to the sharp edge of his salt-and-peppered jaw and his neck. His long fingers were wrapped loosely around his coffee cup, his shoulders relaxed, and his chest rising and falling slowly and—

  Why am I staring?

  I jerked my gaze away and looked out the window instead.

  Okay, so it had been too long since I’d been laid. I’d been too caught up in postdivorce damage control for the last three years to even think about a relationship, and aside from a smattering of one-night stands, I’d mostly slept alone. In the year that I’d lived in Bluewater Bay, I’d taken advantage of the nightlife in places like Victoria, Port Angeles, and occasionally even Seattle, but guarding a workaholic meant my downtime was somewhat limited. And a chunk of that time was devoted to feeble attempts at repairing my relationship with my kids.

  Recently, Anna had been so busy—she’d been directing an episode and producing two up until about a week ago—neither of us had had much time off. I was admittedly thankful that Leigh had put her foot down and demanded Anna start spending a little less time at work, because it meant I got to spend a little less time at work too.

  Maybe now that I’d recharged from a long stretch of all work and no play, my libido was trying to tell me something.

  I stole another glance at Scott.

  Or maybe he really was that attractive.

  When we arrived in Bluewater Bay, everyone started waking up. Not a moment too soon, either—my phone battery was nearly dead, and I’d already been to the end of the internet and back. Another twenty minutes without a working phone and I’d have been climbing the walls.