Fifteen minutes later, he pulled the snowmobile up to the banks of Casperson Pond and cut the engine. The pond was too small to even be considered a lake, but it was deep and always teaming with plenty of fish, no matter the time of year. The pines circling the water were heavy with snow, limbs drooping like tired soldiers with one more mile to trudge before rest.
Mariah climbed off the snowmobile and stood surveying the sled with its boxes of equipment. “Why do you need so much stuff?”
“If it’s worth doing …” Riker grinned as he unhitched the sled. He wasn’t expecting them to stay long, but he’d still brought enough stuff for a full day of ice fishing. Okay, maybe he was showing off a little bit, but he also wanted her to be comfortable.
“Can I help?” Mariah asked as he threaded a heavy cord through the hitch in the sled.
“Nah, I got it.” He dragged the sled to the edge of the pond, unlatched one of the boxes, and pulled out the ice auger.
“You’re sure it’s safe?”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Riker said. He took a few long steps onto the ice and scraped the thin layer of snow away with his foot, then set the point of the auger and started it up. The auger spun, bringing up a pile of shaved ice as it bore down into the pond. When he broke through, water bubbled out of the hole and washed over their boots.
Riker turned off the motor and knelt down. He set the auger to one side and pulled off a glove with his teeth, then dipped his hand into the hole, feeling for the bottom edge of the ice. “It’s about eight inches,” he told Mariah.
“Brrrr.” She stared at the icy water in the hole.
Brrr was right. He flicked the water off his fingers and pulled his glove on again, glad for the warmth.
“So we set up right here?” Mariah asked.
“Let’s go a little farther out,” he said. “The fishing will be better away from the shore.”
Mariah followed him across the pond with cautious baby steps at first, but she soon got her confidence and began walking by his side.
“If we go down, the first priority is to save the sled,” Riker said. “Grab it by the side and push it as far away from the cave-in as you can. Got it?”
She gave him a horrified look. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’ve got serious money invested in this setup. That ice auger alone was over four hundred bucks. I don’t want it going to the bottom of the pond.”
Mariah ground to a halt, an expression of shock on her face. Riker stood it as long as he could, but then he started snickering.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Dork.”
He grinned.
They reached a good spot and he got the gear set up. After drilling another hole in the ice, he dropped a lure into the water and fed it out until he felt it hit bottom. Mariah watched as he pulled it back up and eyeballed the length of wet string. “Good depth,” he declared.
She nodded, shivering slightly as a breeze cut across the pond.
“Give me a minute and I’ll have us toasty warm,” he promised.
Working quickly, he set up the tent and drove the corner spikes deep into the ice, then got the battery-powered heater set up. He pulled two camp chairs from a box on the sled and put them inside, then hauled in the fishing gear.
“Okay, ready.” He stuck his head out the door of the tent. “Come on in.”
She stepped carefully over the threshold and her eyes widened in surprise. “This is cozy,” she admitted.
“Winter sports don’t have to be miserable, if you know what you’re doing,” Riker said. He dug around in the gear and handed her the skimmer. “This is to keep any ice chunks out of the hole. That’s your assignment.”
“Got it.” She nodded seriously and took a seat, watching as he got the poles set up.
He baited the hooks and fed the lines into the hole, pleased to see the water was clear all the way to the bottom and he could see his jig dancing at the end of the line. “Here you go,” he handed her the red pole. If you feel a bite, start reeling it in.”
Her eyes were wide with anticipation and she nodded. He got his own pole ready and dropped into the chair at her side, hoping she’d feel the sense of relaxation he always got when he was fishing. She could use it.
“What are we fishing for anyway?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Bluegill,” Riker said. “And you know, if we catch any, it’s your job to gut them.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged. “Newbie penalty. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
“Lies.” Mariah reached out and slugged him playfully on the shoulder. He hardly felt it through his thick coat, but her touch made his heart race all the same.
“I’ve never done it before, so you’ll have to show me how, but it’s probably a good thing to learn, right?” she said.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re ice fishing or regular fishing, cleaning them is all the same,” Riker assured her.
“No, I meant fishing, period. I’ve never done it before,” Mariah said.
“You grew up along the coast of Florida. Your dad never took you fishing? C’mon,” Riker scoffed.
“My dad walked out when I was five,” she said quietly. “I haven’t seen him since.”
There was total silence in the tent but for the slight hiss of the heater and the scrape of Riker’s chair on the ice as he turned to her.
“Are you serious?” He blurted, then felt like an idiot. Of course she was serious. His heart clenched at the raw pain on her face. “I’m … wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.
“It’s okay,” she ducked her head and gave a bitter little laugh. “See what happens when I let myself slow down and relax? I go straight to awkward confessions. Sorry … I don’t know why I said that.”
She’d said it because she trusted him. The thought warmed him more than the tent heater blowing at their feet.
“You can tell me anything,” Riker said gently. His heart ached at the thought of five-year-old Mariah, missing her dad and wondering where he’d gone. “What happened after he left?”
Mariah shrugged, her eyes glued to the fishing line running into the ice. “Mom worked full-time, I became the classic latch-key kid.”
“Have you ever tried to find him?”
“No,” her tone was hard. “My mother always said his leaving was a blessing in disguise. I didn’t know it when I was little, but I guess he wasn’t very faithful to her.”
Riker studied her face, trying to gauge her mood. “Listen, we don’t have to fish right now if you’d rather not.”
“No,” she gave him a soft smile. “This is good. I definitely needed to get away from everything for a little while.”
“That’s why I like it,” Riker said. “It’s nice to just be away.”
Mariah nodded. “But it’s extra nice to be away, with you.”
A blaze of happiness spread through him along with a fierce desire to take her in his arms, to pull her against his chest and hold her. He was just about to reach for her when her pole twitched and the line tightened. Mariah gave a little squeak.
“Reel it in, slowly,” he directed.
She was almost breathless with excitement as she turned the reel. When the bluegill came to the surface, she let out a cute little gasp and he hid a smile. Who knew such a simple thing could make her so happy? She might dress fancy, but maybe she wasn’t such a high-maintenance girl after all.
It wasn’t a huge fish, but it wasn’t bad either. Riker worked the hook from its mouth, dispatched it quickly with a blow to the head, and tossed it onto the ice near the wall of the tent.
Mariah turned around in her chair to gaze at it. “Do I need to clean it now?”
“Nah. Let’s wait until we get a few more,” Riker said.
She beamed.
They reset the poles and lounged in the camp chairs, eating the trail mix he’d brought while they wa
ited for the fish to bite. It was so toasty warm in the tent that before long they’d both taken off the heavy snowsuits and were comfortable in just jeans and long sleeved shirts. They caught several more bluegill in rapid succession, then the fishing slowed down so they turned to conversation. Riker found Mariah was eager to hear his stories of flying helicopters and fighting fires.
“That’s how I met Jake,” he said. “We were in the same company when the fires hit Snow Valley a few years ago.”
“It must have been terrible.” Mariah’s eyes widened. “Was anyone killed?”
Riker shook his head. “One of our guys sprained his ankle when he tripped on thick underbrush and several ranchers lost fences, but we got it under control.”
“Sounds like a dangerous way to make a living.”
“Someone has to do it.” He shrugged.
Mariah gave him a sideways look.
“What?” Riker said defensively.
“And you like it,” she prodded.
“Well, it is pretty exciting,” he admitted. “So what’s the deal with Jake and that cousin of yours,” he asked. “Does Amy really not trust him? Doesn’t seem like a good way to start a marriage.”
Mariah’s face flushed. “She’s had a couple of bad relationships in the past, one guy cheated on her, and so she’s kind of sensitive about it.”
“Yeah, but they’re getting married. Shouldn’t she be over it by now?”
“Haven’t you ever had a relationship that ended so badly it kind of messed you up for a while?” Mariah pointed out.
He thought about it for a minute. “Not really,” he finally said. “I guess I never get in too deep, so when it’s over, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Just love ‘em and leave ‘em?” she asked.
“Well … yeah,” he shrugged. He thought of her waddling out to the snowmobile in the too-big snowsuit, her excitement over something as basic as fishing, her determination to make the boutique a success, and her soft curves and fragrant hair and almost added until now, but stopped himself. It sounded corny.
“I guess I’m partly to blame,” Mariah said after a long silence. “I’m the one that took Amy’s concern to stalking territory.”
“If Jake was being evasive, it was probably because he didn’t Amy to worry,” Riker said. “Hunting mountain lions isn’t the safest thing to do.”
“I know.” Mariah said softly. She was running her index finger over the grip on the fishing pole and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I guess I was thinking about my parents and wanted to make sure Amy wasn’t getting into a situation like that.”
He fell silent. How could he blame her for that? Those scars probably ran deep.
A gust of wind shook the tent, surprising them both. Riker stood and peered outside. “Looks like the storm is here,” he told Mariah. “We’d probably better get going.”
She nodded and helped him pack up the equipment and the fish. The snow started coming down faster as they struck the tent and buckled the plastic boxes back onto the sled.
“Ready?” Riker called as the first flakes began to fall.
She nodded and climbed onto the snowmobile behind him.
Chapter 9
Mariah clung to Riker’s waist as they rode the snowmobile back to his cabin, holding on a bit tighter than was probably necessary. She hadn’t intended to tell him about her dad, she never talked about her dad.
She realized she didn’t mind that Riker knew, was a little relieved, in fact. Even though she tried not to think about it very much, she knew her dad’s desertion was a big part of her past. And despite the fact that they’d met when she was stalking her cousin’s fiancé, Riker seemed to trust her. Maybe it was okay to trust him with this.
The wind bit her cheeks and she leaned in, resting her head against Riker’s broad back. Even through the thickness of his coat, she could feel the hardness of the muscles in his back, the way they flexed as he steered the machine through the growing drifts. His coat smelled faintly like fish and gasoline, mixed with the clean, sharp scent of winter.
He never gets in too deep, she reminded herself as the snowmobile bumped over the uneven ground. It should have been a comforting thought, confirmation that this really was just a fling. But it left her feeling a bit sad and shallow.
Mariah’s car was covered with two inches of snow by the time they got back to the cabin. “Oh no!” she said, struggling through the drifts to reach it. He’d have to dig her out again. Unbelievable.
Riker stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the car. “Doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere for a while,” he said, tossing her a grin.
“I’m so sorry.” She gave a self-conscious laugh. “I thought my snow tires would be enough, but I never expected this.” She tipped her head back to feel the heavy flakes kiss her face. “It’s crazy!”
“C’mon.” He jerked his head toward the cabin. “Let’s go in and get warm and have something to eat. Then I can take you home in my truck.”
“But what about my car?”
“Jake can come help me dig it out … again,” he said with a wink.
Mariah rolled her eyes and followed him into the cabin.
They shrugged out of the heavy snow clothes and Riker got the fire going while Mariah went to the restroom. She groaned when she saw her reflection in the mirror over the sink. The knit hat, the dampness, and the wind had all done a number on her hair. The curls she’d so carefully sculpted this morning were long gone, letting the natural wave of her hair have its way. She dug a comb from her purse and tried to restore it to some semblance of style, but there was no rescuing the curls. She had to settle for leaving it alone to hang wavy and damp over her shoulders.
Her lipstick had disappeared completely and her eye makeup had faded. She had a tube of pale pink lip gloss with her, but even applied with a heavy hand, it couldn’t compensate for the rest of the makeup. Twenty-four-hour mascara? Yeah, right. Looks like the marketing team at Sephora hadn’t taken ice fishing into account.
“You look pretty,” Riker said when she emerged. He was in the kitchen with the fresh-caught fish lined up on waxed paper next to a thick plastic cutting board.
“Whatever.” Mariah rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to flatter me.”
“No, I mean it,” he said sincerely. “You’re beautiful all the time, but this is … softer, I guess. Makes you seem a bit more real.”
“As opposed to Retro Barbie?”
He grunted. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, I’m only teasing.” She eyed the fish. “What can I do to help?”
“Okay, your first lesson on cleaning.” He jerked his head toward a hook on the wall where an apron hung. “You’ll probably want that.”
Once she was ready, he gave her a serious look. “Just so you know, I don’t normally let people clean fish in my kitchen. But I figure you’ve had enough cold for today.”
Mariah grinned at him. “You’re right. And thank you very much.”
She stood at his side and watched as he did the first one, making a first cut at the gills, another up the belly, then finally a third at the top of the neck, stopping short of removing the head entirely. “Then you take it like this …” Riker grabbed the fish’s head. “… and pull.” He demonstrated, smoothly removing the fish’s head and insides in one smooth motion.
Mariah stared.
“Are you grossed out?” He asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I just … I’ve never seen that before. Can you show me again, a little slower this time?”
He smiled and handed her a knife. “We’ll do it together.”
It wasn’t easy, but after a few fish, Mariah felt she’d gotten the hang of it and they cleaned all twelve fish quickly.
Riker picked out the four biggest and set them aside. “How about we cook these now for dinner and you can take the rest home?”
“But you should keep them,” she protested.
Riker shook his h
ead. “You’ve gotta have some payoff for all your hard work today.”
“So do you.”
“That’s not work to me; that’s play.”
“Yeah, it was pretty fun for me too.”
He turned at the counter so they were facing each other. His eyes were deep and clear, like the gray water swirling in the pond beneath the ice. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “It was more fun today with you there.”
This is only for fun; don’t get attached. Mariah took a deep breath, trying to slow her stuttering heartbeat.
Riker turned back to the fish and began cutting them. “How about I fillet these; then let’s bread them with flour and egg wash and seasoned fish fry?”
“Sounds delicious.”
He pointed with his chin to a cupboard near the stove. “Can you get the cast-iron skillet from there?”
Soon, the tantalizing aroma of frying fish permeated the room. Riker opened the fridge and stared at the contents. “I’m afraid I don’t have any lettuce for a salad,” he apologized. “I wasn’t really expecting company.”
Mariah shrugged. “Don’t worry about it; I’m not really a salad person.”
“Really?” He quirked his eyebrow at her. “I thought for sure you’d be one of those lettuce and veggie tray kind of girls.”
“There are lettuce and veggie tray girls?” Mariah giggled. She crossed to the pantry, threw open the door, and began rummaging among the shelves. Funny how it felt so natural to be here with him—kind of like playing house, only better. “How about this?” she asked, holding up a can of baked beans.
“Works for me.” He smiled.
She set the beans to warm in the microwave and when everything was ready, they carried their plates into the living room to eat in front of the fire. The sky was growing darker through the big picture window and the snow fell steadily.
After dinner, Mariah offered to clean up. Riker didn’t have a dishwasher, so she filled the sink with hot water and added two squirts of dishwashing detergent from the bottle by the sink.
As she washed, Riker came into the room frowning, a radio in his hand. “I’ve been listening to the police scanner,” he said. “Looks like they’ve closed the canyon road.”
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 50
