Alaskan Catch

by Sue Pethick

  And then the engine died.

  They’d been out only a few days when the problems started, but Hollander had refused to consider putting in for repairs. Since then, their engineer had worked day and night to keep it running, but the man was new, and as the situation deteriorated, it became clear that he was in over his head. It was lucky they had Kallik aboard, Sam thought. No one could coax a diesel engine back to life like he could. When the engine had faltered again that morning, his offer of help had been gratefully accepted.

  While the engineers struggled to get the seiner moving again, Hollander paced the deck, cursing and fuming, oblivious to the downpour. Sam lay on his bunk, listening to the urgent voices coming from the engine room, and willed the ship’s engine to turn over. It sputtered, almost catching, then died as more curses emanated from above. He held his breath as they cranked it again.

  “Come on, come on . . .” Sam muttered.

  The engine started—falteringly at first, then steadily, emphatically. As it roared to life, the men onboard cheered and Sam let out the breath he’d been holding. Once again, the Skippy Lou was underway.

  Kallik came down the ladder and collapsed on the bottom step just as Sam slipped out of his bunk.

  “Way to build the suspense there, pal. You almost had me worried.”

  The engineer lifted his hand and made a rude gesture.

  Sam pulled on a sweater and grabbed his knit cap.

  “How far do you think we’ve drifted?”

  “No idea. Why?”

  “Just wondering how close we are to the shipping lanes.”

  Kallik shrugged. “PACTRACS would have warned us if we were too close.”

  “Right,” Sam said. “If we’ve got it.”

  The Marine Exchange vessel tracking system was the only sure way to know if they were headed into the path of shipping traffic, but it required enrollment and a monthly fee.

  Sam started up the ladder. “I’ll see you topside.”

  He steadied himself against the main winch, squinting up through the rain to check the power block. He’d been keeping an eye on it with every haul, but so far there’d been no indication that it was unequal to the task at hand. Nevertheless, if the area up ahead was as rich as Hollander said it was, they’d be putting the entire winch under enormous strain. If any part of it was going to fail, that would be the time. Sam wondered if he should mention his concerns to Hollander, but to do that, he’d have to reveal the source of his information, and questioning a captain’s authority onboard was always risky.

  Hollander was anxiously checking the sonar screen while the others drank coffee in the galley. Even if Sam succeeded in getting the man to reconsider, the rest of the crew might not back him up. More fish meant more money in their pockets, and if the captain was right about the bounty ahead, they’d be as anxious to start hauling as he was. In spite of his record, Hollander had a lot of influence on shore, too, and word of Sam’s insubordination would spread like wildfire. With a new ship to man and operate, he couldn’t afford to be making enemies.

  * * *

  The engine slowed as they reached their destination. As the wind had died so had the rain, replaced by fog so thick it made Sam feel claustrophobic. The crew scrambled out on deck and made ready to set the seine.

  Sam would be driving the skiff this time, pulling the weighted net, or seine, in a wide arc to encircle the fish and form a purse in which to lift them from the water. While the weighted edge of the seine was being secured with metal rings, Kallik and Logan Marsh would plunge poles into the water to keep the fish from slipping away under the keel. Plunging the water was mindless, tiresome work, but it was essential to a good haul and safer than bringing in the net. Once the skiff returned and the purse was closed, Sam could get back on deck to give Kallik a hand when the winch started its first pull.

  The skiff was lowered into the water. Sam stood at the rail, watching the rise and fall of the two boats, waiting for the point at which the distance between the decks was shortest before going over the side. Kallik stood behind him, checking to see that the seine unspooled smoothly, its corks staying afloat as they paid out; Hollander was at the winch, ready to set the rings and start raising the purse; and Logan Marsh was braced, pole in hand, ready to beat the water once the skiff was away. Every man knew his job; every man was ready.

  The seiner settled and the skiff began to rise. As the decks grew closer, Sam swung his leg over the rail, ready to jump. Then a moderate swell pitched the boat astern, its dark surface white with froth, and a ripple of terror passed through him. The Skippy Lou was idling; the wind had died. Where was the white water coming from?

  Sam yelled a warning, but it was too late. A wall of churning froth rose up and the seiner listed hard to port, pushed aside by some unseen force. Water poured over the gunwales, and the net began to unspool while Sam clung desperately to the railing. The deck was in chaos. Hollander ran for the bridge as Logan Marsh dropped his pole and dove for the lifeboat. Kallik stumbled toward Sam, lost his footing, and careened across the deck. Then a dark hull loomed out of the fog, struck the Skippy Lou amidships, and Sam tumbled over the side.

  CHAPTER 31

  Bear was glad to be home.

  Emily sat at Sam’s kitchen table, sipping coffee and watching the big Newfoundland snooze on his dog bed. After leaving Tiffany’s, she’d taken him to the veterinarian, where he’d gotten fluids and something to calm his stomach, and she’d gotten reassurance that the dog had suffered no serious aftereffects. For the next week, Bear was to have plenty of water and nothing but bland food, the vet told her; the two of them had left his office with a list of instructions and a bag full of expensive prescription dog food. Emily glanced at the stack of cans on the counter and smiled. After gratefully wolfing down the first two, Bear had turned his nose up at the third—a sure sign, she thought, that he was feeling like his old self.

  Unfortunately, Tiffany had not been so lucky. Whatever drug she’d taken had been far more potent than what she’d used in the past, and in spite of their best efforts, the doctors had been unable to revive her. She remained on life support while her parents waited for the rest of the family to come and say goodbye. In the meantime, both Seth and Noah had been taken into custody, each one blaming the other for her condition, and Tim Garrett had spoken to the police about the drugs being smuggled through the cannery. After fourteen frustrating months, it looked as if the mystery had finally been solved.

  She looked at the clock, wondering where Sam was at that moment. Between rescuing Bear, taking him to the vet, and giving a statement to the police, she’d been on the go pretty much nonstop since returning to Ketchikan. Now, with nothing much to do, it felt as if time were standing still.

  Emily had heard nothing from her mother, nor from Carter or any of their friends back home. The consensus of opinion seemed to be that Emily was in the wrong—a verdict that upset, but did not surprise, her. The Trescotts were rich, important people and their son was a great catch; no doubt they thought she should be grateful he’d chosen her from among dozens of more worthy candidates. Never mind that he’d denigrated her achievements, embarrassed her in front of their friends, and slept with another woman. If Emily had just kept her mouth shut, everything would have been fine.

  But it wouldn’t have been fine, she thought. Emily wasn’t the same person she’d been when she first left for Ketchikan. As horrible as this experience had been, Uncle Danny’s death, Carter’s infidelity, and her mother’s betrayal had done what the previous twenty-four years had not: it had forced her to grow up. The girl who’d foolishly believed that someone would always take care of her was gone. It was time to make her own way in the world, and the first thing she’d decided was that she no longer wanted to be a marine biologist.

  Looking back on it now, her choice of major had been unrealistic from the start. The ocean would always fascinate her, of course, but she wasn’t the sort of person who could happily spend weeks and months at sea, and t
he fact that she’d never even considered what the work entailed seemed hopelessly naïve. Perhaps, in the back of her mind, she’d never really believed she would need a job after college. Tim Garrett had offered to help her find something at the cannery, but she’d politely declined. She’d come up with an idea that was far more intriguing.

  Sensei Doug had seen something in Emily that, on reflection, felt true: she wasn’t just a good student, she had the makings of a good teacher—a sensei—too. It would take time and a lot of hard work, but the last few days had taught her something important. The greatest gift her father had given her wasn’t his money, it was his strength and determination to do whatever it took to succeed. The only question now was whether to set up her own dojo or join someone else’s, and she wouldn’t know the answer to that until she talked to Sam.

  According to Marilyn, Sam’s tender was in escrow, but Emily had no idea when his offer had been finalized and the thought that her encouragement might have prompted him to pay too dearly for it sat like a weight on her chest. If he had, she’d decided to make up as much of the difference as she could, even if it meant spending the rest of her trust fund. Emily simply couldn’t allow him to pay for her own foolish mistake.

  She got up to pour herself another cup of coffee. Outside, a ray of sunshine had broken through the clouds, painting a rainbow over the harbor. Emily took a deep breath and sighed. At least she knew now that Sam loved her. After the way they’d parted, she wouldn’t have blamed him for being angry. Instead, there’d been no words of recrimination in his last message, only the offer of an open heart. It felt like confirmation that the path she’d chosen was the right one. What better foundation was there on which to build a future?

  As she walked back to the table, Bear lifted his head, and Emily stroked it reassuringly. The two of them were right where they belonged, she thought. Now all they needed was for Sam to come home.

  The phone rang, and Emily smiled when she saw Marilyn’s number on the caller ID. How many other people in the world would understand the mix of eagerness and fear she was feeling?

  “Hey, Mar. What’s up?”

  But it wasn’t Marilyn; it was Jane, calling from the hospital. The Skippy Lou, she said, had sunk.

  Emily pulled out a chair and sat down, stunned.

  “What happened?”

  “Coast Guard’s still trying to find out. I would’ve called sooner, but I thought you knew.”

  “Did anyone . . .” She swallowed. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Sam’s all right, but he’s pretty beat up—three cracked ribs and a black eye.”

  Emily put a hand to her mouth as tears of relief welled.

  “And Kallik?”

  Jane sighed. “His back is broken—won’t know how bad it is until they do the MRI. We got here just before they took him in.”

  “How’s Marilyn?”

  “She’s strong,” Jane said. “Whatever happens, she’ll survive.”

  “And the baby?”

  “No problems so far. They put a cot in Kallik’s room so she can lie down while she’s waiting.”

  “So, everybody made it?”

  “Everybody but the new guy, Logan.”

  Emily felt a shiver of dread pass through her.

  “Logan Marsh?”

  “Yeah. You know him?”

  “No,” she said. “Not really.”

  “I gotta get back inside. Just came out to give you a heads-up.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

  Emily grabbed her wallet and the keys to Sam’s Jeep. As she snuck out the garage door, Bear was still passed out on his bed.

  * * *

  Jane was waiting outside the emergency entrance, smoking a cigarette, when she arrived. Emily jumped out of the Jeep and hurried over.

  “What’s the latest?”

  “Kallik’s back in his room. The other three are waiting to be discharged.”

  “Any results yet from the MRI?”

  Jane took another puff and shook her head.

  “He can wiggle his toes, so maybe it won’t be too bad.”

  Emily glanced toward the entrance.

  “How’s Sam?”

  “Driving everybody crazy, asking if you’re here yet.” She took one last puff and dropped the cigarette, grinding it out with her toe. “Let’s get you in there so those people can have some peace.”

  Emily checked in at the front desk and was buzzed through the double doors. A row of curtained rooms lined the hallway. Sam’s was the last one on the left. He was sitting up, his body swathed in warm blankets, when she pulled the curtain aside. The left side of his face was bruised, and she could see the beginnings of a shiner. As she stepped inside, he gave her a lopsided smile.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hey, yourself,” she said.

  Emily stood awkwardly at the threshold. What would he do when she told him about the money? Every instinct was telling her to rush over, hug him, smother him in kisses. Instead, she found she couldn’t move. All she could think about was the foolish offer she’d made to help him buy his new tender. How would he react when she told him the money was gone? She knew how betrayed and disappointed she’d felt when she found out that her trust fund had been drained. She couldn’t bear the thought that Sam would feel the same way about her.

  He held out his hand.

  “You can come in, you know. I have it on good authority that broken ribs aren’t contagious.”

  She hesitated a second longer, then pulled up a chair and sat down, trying not to think about the last time she’d visited someone in the hospital.

  “What happened?”

  “Wandered into the shipping lane and got swatted by a tanker. We were lucky. If the Coast Guard hadn’t been doing maneuvers in the area, none of us would have made it.”

  “I heard about Logan Marsh. Did you know he was going to be onboard?”

  “Not until the last minute. Why? You think I should have backed out?”

  “No.” Emily shook her head. “I was wrong to blame you for trying to help Kallik. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said. “I should have tried harder to stop him.”

  She swallowed hard, tried to keep the tremor from her voice.

  “Marilyn says you bought that tender.”

  “I did,” he said. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

  “I’m so sorry. I never should have told you to buy it.”

  “Why? I thought you’d be pleased.”

  There was a box of tissues next to the bed. Emily reached for one and dried her eyes.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, but please don’t be mad.” She blew her nose. “When I left that message, I thought my trust fund had a million dollars in it. I thought I’d be able to help you buy your tender, but it turned out that my mother had spent almost the whole thing and now I can’t give you as much as I thought.”

  Sam struggled to sit up straighter.

  “I never asked you for any money.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I wanted to help, and you said you needed the seller to lower his price. If I hadn’t told you to spend whatever it took—”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait. Can you calm down a second?”

  She took a deep breath, nodded.

  “The reason I was waiting for him to lower his price was because I didn’t want to overpay, not because I didn’t have the money.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And, no offense, but if I had needed money, I wouldn’t have borrowed it from you.”

  Emily frowned. “Why not?”

  “Well, considering the situation we’re in, I’d say the answer is obvious.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She paused. “So, you’re not broke?”

  “Did you think I was?”

  “Well . . . sort of.”

  Sam pursed his lips.

  “Why? Because I don’t throw money
around like your family does?”

  Emily drew back. “My family doesn’t throw money around.”

  “Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh, but from what you’ve told me, your mother spends a lot of money trying to impress other people.”

  She blinked, thought about that for a moment.

  “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

  “Look,” he said. “I’m not trying to pick on anybody, but just because I don’t live in a big, expensive house or drive a flashy car, that doesn’t mean I’m poor. I bought my first duplex when I was eighteen, and I’ve got three more now. Believe me, I’m doing fine.”

  “Then why do you work on a tender?”

  “Because I love it—and it’s good money, too. Buying this ship just means I can work on my own terms with my own crew, Em, it doesn’t mean I’m ready to come ashore.”

  She thought about that for a moment. Could she learn to live with the uncertainty? She’d always promised herself she wouldn’t put herself in her mother’s position. What if something happened to him and she was left, as her mother had been, alone and brokenhearted?

  Emily nodded. “If that’s what you want to do, I think it’s great.”

  “What about you?” he said. “Now that you’re back, are you gonna stick around?”

  “I think so,” she said. “See, I met this great guy when I was here before. He’s big and strong—a great kisser—and he loves being out on the water. He’s also really hairy and he slobbers a lot.”

  “Should I be jealous?”

  She leaned forward and kissed him.

  “What do you think?”

  EPILOGUE

  Bear jumped out of the Jeep and ran ahead, drawn by the faint wail of a baby’s cries as Sam and Emily followed him up to the house. When the front door opened, he pushed his way inside, nearly knocking Kallik off his feet on his way to the back bedroom. Sam lunged for him and missed.