Northern Lights

by Michelle Cary

Footfalls behind her grew louder against the linoleum, then stopped. She turned to find Nathan standing directly behind her, blocking her only exit from the kitchen. After the situation earlier, she wondered if he was there to lecture her further on the need to follow orders. She’d certainly gotten a good tongue-lashing from Adam after the drill ended. He’d made it clear that her safety was top priority for them and she needed to trust them when they told her to do something. Unfortunately, trust wasn’t something that came easy to her and taking that particular leap of faith would require every ounce of courage she could muster.

  Her nerves danced and she set a can of baked beans onto the counter and waited for him to speak.

  “About earlier,” he began.

  Oh, boy, here it comes. “I’m really sorry about that,” she quickly offered, hoping to stem the lecture she knew was coming. “You have to understand, I’m not one to blindly take orders. I like to ask questions and have all available information in front of me before I do something stupid, like jump into nearly freezing water.”

  Nathan paused and his mouth curved slightly, not quite making it into a smile. She’d take that as a good sign.

  “And you need to understand I’m not used to having my authority questioned. If I tell you to do something, you can rest assure there’s a damn good reason for it. Your life, just like the lives of Adam and the others on this boat, are my responsibility and I don’t take that job lightly. On the other hand…” He walked into the galley, past where she remained in front of the stove and snagged the coffee pot. “I’m also not used to having greenhorns on board. Especially one who doesn’t have a clue of what she’s about to get herself into.”

  She wanted to pick up the can of beans and continue stocking the shelves, to step to the sink and find some dishes to wash, anything that would keep her hands busy and mask her nervousness. Instead, she remained in place and stupidly lobbed the next volley into his court. “You’re the one who offered me the job.”

  He nodded, then tasted the coffee. “You’re right, I did, and because of that, I’m going to try and have extra patience with you. You still have a lot to learn before I’ll be comfortable with your position here. In order to facilitate that process, I want you to feel free to ask all the questions you can think of and I’ll do my best to answer them. However, if you set foot on deck when you’ve been told not to, you’ll see a side of me you’ll wish you hadn’t, okay?”

  If curiosity really did kill the cat, then Brooke was sure she had to be part feline and had probably used up about half of her nine lives. “Okay, but why am I not allowed on deck?”

  He pushed off the counter, moved in front of where she stood and set his cup down beside her. With one hand on either side of her, he boxed her in and stared her directly in the face. His look wasn’t one of anger or even frustration, but it was deadly serious. “The deck is the most dangerous place on this boat. Accidents happen. People can die out there and, despite what you might think, I’m actually quite fond of you.”

  She felt the pressure on her head and realized he’d snagged her ponytail. In an attempt to ease the sting from his pull on her hair, she tipped her head up, lifting her chin. It was a position that once again brought their lips close, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin, smell the subtle scent of mint from the gum he’d chewed.

  He leaned in, bridging the distance, and Brooke lids fell closed in anticipation of the kiss, but instead of their lips connecting, he brushed the lightest of kisses over her closed eyes. “I don’t want you injured.” He kissed one eye. “Maimed.” He kissed the second. “Or worse.” He punctuated the last word with a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

  She swallowed audibly. “Worse?”

  He pulled away slowly and smiled down at her. “We won’t talk about the worse, but be aware that it could happen.” He stepped away from her, grabbed his mug and turned on his heel, only to pause and look over his shoulder at her from the steps. “I’ve never lost a crewmember while I’ve been captain. I wouldn’t want that streak to end with you.”

  With those final words for her to chew over, he quickly ascended the steps, disappearing topside.

  Brooke remained fixed in place, staring at the empty steps, still enjoying the aftereffects of having his lips on her. Despite the sternness of his tone, it was the intensity of his eyes which had held her riveted in place. No way had she been imaging the looks he’d been giving her since that first day back in her apartment. Now he’d taken it a step farther by kissing her, but not in the traditional manner. She lifted a hand to her eye, touching the lid where moments earlier his lips had been.

  She’d definitely felt the sparks between them and her own desire to act on those feelings, but a kiss on the nose was something you gave your sister or a friend, not a prospective lover. Not that she actually expected him to see her as such. Her dating history encompassed only three men over a ten-year period, all of whom she’d dumped after the third date. She simply wouldn’t be comfortable making the first move.

  Relationships had never been something she’d done well with and no way would she ruin her friendship with him over what might be a miscommunication. Especially when every time she thought he was going to do something more than invade her space he flipped a switch and turned on the captain mode, once again distancing himself from her.

  Maybe he was as confused about his feelings as she was about hers, or maybe she was totally off base and reading his signals completely wrong. Either way, at the rate they were going, she had no doubt that this was going to be a very long season.

  CHAPTER 4

  Brooke couldn’t stop her shakes as she, Nathan, Adam and the other three crewmembers walked up the path leading into the local bar. Bars meant drinking, and drinking inevitably led to angry, pushy men who thought they could have their way with her simply because they were stronger.

  For years, she’d struggled to forget the foul stench of alcohol. Now she was walking directly into what she knew would end up being a bad situation. Back on the boat, she’d tried to make excuses as to why she couldn’t come with them for the traditional before season drink. She’d thought of every excuse in the book and even tried to pull out the tried and true “women’s problem” issue, only to have Nathan trump her time and again. Frustrated at the fact he could tell she was lying when he started pushing her for the real reason why she didn’t want to go, Brooke had given in to avoid airing her sordid past.

  “You cold?” he asked as he walked with a gentle hand pressed to the middle of her back.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Why?”

  “Because I can feel you shaking.”

  “I’m fine,” she managed to say before Adam opened the door and ushered everyone inside.

  The smell of alcohol and stale cigarettes assaulted her nose, drawing out dormant memories. An intense pain she hadn’t felt for years reared its ugly head, and she immediately had to push down the urge to vomit. Who knew that nearly ten years removed from that night a simple smell could bring everything back with such clarity.

  Directly across from her against the far wall was the bar. It ran the length of the wall, then turned and wrapped around the next wall, continuing out of sight. Typical of a tavern, the lights were low, combining with the thick pall of cigarette smoke to create a murkiness in the room. From somewhere in the ceiling, old speakers pumped out decades-old rock music, just barely loud enough for her to hear.

  “Nathan!” a male voice yelled over the drone of men cavorting over their ales, many probably telling the same fishing stories for the umpteenth time.

  Brooke searched the room for the voice and eventually spotted Danny in the corner with his crew. He waved a hand, pointing to a table next to where he sat. The men turned in that direction and began weaving their way through, with Brooke in tow. She certainly didn’t want to end up separated from them in a place like this.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Northern Lights’ crew, and look what they have wit
h them this year, boys.” A man sitting at a table they passed raised his hand, giving Nathan a high five.

  Nathan stopped and turned his attention to the man. “Carter, how the hell are ya?” Nathan asked, slapping hands with the man.

  “Been good. How ’bout yourself?”

  “Can’t complain,” Nathan retorted.

  “I see your crew has gotten better looking from last year.”

  Brooke’s back straightened at the mention of her and she edged slightly closer to Adam.

  Nathan snagged her by the wrist and gently tugged her toward him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder when she was close enough. “Carter, this is Brooke. She’s our cook for this season.”

  The man gave Brooke the once-over. She felt exposed, as if the man had x-ray vision and could not only picture her naked, but see all her innermost secrets. It was everything she could do not to lift her arms and cover herself in the face of his ogling.

  “Well, hell, Nathan. She’s like a fucking siren. With her on board, who needs bait? Just put her picture in the pot. Once the crabs got a look at her, they’d willingly climb inside.”

  She knew the man had meant to give her a compliment, but damned if she didn’t feel as though he were sizing her up like a wolf about to pounce on his prey.

  Completely oblivious to her feelings Nathan let out a chuckle and glanced down at her. “You may be right, Carter. I guess if we run out of bait we’ll have to try that.” With his free hand, he patted the man on the shoulder. “We’re gonna go have a drink with my brother and his crew. You have a safe trip out there.”

  “You, too, Nathan. I hear she’s going to be a might foul this year so make sure you’re on your toes. I want to be able to trade stories with you next season.”

  Nathan turned them away and continued his trek to the empty table Danny held for them. “Who was that?” Brooke asked.

  “Carter Shoemaker. He’s captain of the Trade Winds.”

  “Sounds like a boat you’d find in the Caribbean, not the Bering Sea.”

  Nathan laughed. “That’s the point. He named the boat after the place he plans to retire. He said that way it would be a constant reminder of what he was working for.”

  They neared the table, and Danny stood, enveloping her in a hug. “It’s good to see you, Brooke.”

  “Yeah, you, too.” She slipped into the booth side of the empty table. She wanted to her back to the wall so she could see everything going on in the room. Nathan slid into the seat next to her, while Adam took up residence in the chair on the end. Ensconced between the two men she trusted most, Brooke relaxed slightly. If nothing else, she knew she was safe as long as she stayed with them.

  The waitress sidled up to the table to take their drink orders. One thing Brooke wasn’t willing to do was drink. The vile stuff had lead to nothing but pain in her life. She ordered a cola and waited for the looks to come her way. Instead, the men all gave their own orders, never casting one glance in her direction. Much to her surprise, Nathan ordered one shot and a cola also.

  After the waitress walked away, Brooke turned to him. “You don’t drink?”

  Nathan shook his head. “I have one shot with the guys to celebrate the new season. I’ll have one at the end of the season, too, but as a general rule I never drink during the fishing season. The last thing I need is to drink one too many and end up with a hangover in a storm. That’s not to say I don’t like a beer now and then, but I know my limits.”

  She had to admire a man who knew when, where and how much to drink. Too bad her stepfather hadn’t been as disciplined.

  The conversation turned toward the upcoming season, and Brooke listened intently to the discussions, knowing the more she learned the better off she’d be. She’d discovered during the emergency drills earlier in the day how unprepared she was for the trip at hand. Listening to the men might help her learn some of what she still didn’t know.

  Two hours and three colas later, Brooke’s head was pounding from the wealth of information the men had provided. They’d answered her questions, told stories about other boat and of their own experiences, until she found herself wondering if she’d made the wrong decision in coming. Sometimes ignorance really was bliss. For several minutes, she’d been putting off going to the bathroom. She knew it was stupid, but the idea of walking past all the men in the bar had kept her safely ensconced between Nathan and Adam. Now she swore her bladder was going to burst if she didn’t go soon. “Where’s the ladies room.”

  Adam raised a hand and pointed. “Around the corner on the other end of the bar, right next to the men’s room.”

  Gathering the courage she needed, Brooke pushed from the booth seat and headed for the restroom, making sure to look like she belonged. If she appeared confident, maybe everyone else would leave her alone. Then again, maybe the looks she thought she was getting were all in her imagination and nobody cared about her being there anyway.

  She almost laughed out loud at that thought. How many years had she lived looking over her shoulder, taking self-defense class after class and never had anything happened to her.

  Without looking back through the bar, she entered the ladies’ room and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Careful not to touch too much in what was a typical bar bathroom, Brooke quickly did her business and washed her hands. The fact of the matter was everything had been fine since they’d walked in and what she’d perceived as possible threats were probably nothing more than her own overactive imagination at work. It happened any time she was out of her element, and this situation certainly fit that bill.

  She stepped out of the restroom, quickly scanned the room and headed back toward the booth where Nathan and the guys were waiting. She’d only taken a few steps when a tall, lanky man with dark hair and a drunken smile intercepted her. “Hey, doll, haven’t seen you around here before.”

  Her heart stopped for a moment before resuming at triple speed. She sized him, up wondering what kind of drunk he was. Would she be able to pass by him easily or would he force the issue? Either way, it was time to let the man know she didn’t want to be messed with. Gathering her courage, she stepped forward. “I’m sorry, my boss is waiting for me,” she said as she tried to push past him.

  The man stood his ground and grabbed her arm. His action sent her fight or flight response into overdrive.

  “Now where are you going in such a hurry, pretty? I’m sure your boss won’t miss you for another few minutes.” He took a deliberate step forward, crowding her space.

  She wracked her brain, grasping at the random and all-too-brief fragments from several years of self-defense classes. Brooke took a step back and away from his funky beer-breath, while she fought to break the tight grip fear had on her throat. Instead, her back landed against the corner of the old jukebox, pinning her between it and the wall.

  Despite her best efforts to remember some usable technique to defend herself with, panic welled up inside her chest and threatened to cut off her air.

  “Don’t touch me,” she managed to hiss, while praying somebody else would step in and stop him.

  The man raised his hands in the air, and she flinched, preparing for the sting she feared she would soon feel.

  “Hey, I only want to talk. You’re the one in a hurry to get away.” He lowered his arms, planting one hand on the jukebox, the other on the wall, pinning her in. “Now why don’t you tell me your name, darling?”

  “What in the hell is going on here?” Nathan’s voice carried over the noise and, while it didn’t go silent in the room, it did quiet down considerably as men turned to watch the show.

  The man who had pinned her against the wall curled his lip in a snarl, preparing for battle, and turned to see who had interrupted them. When he got sight of Nathan, he immediately backed down. “Mr. Lowery, I was just talking with this pretty lady.”

  “Talking, huh? So why does she look like a scared rabbit caught in a snare?”

  “I…” The man m
oved his arms, giving Brooke the access she needed to escape.

  Instinct took over and she rushed away from the scene, leaving Nathan to deal with the stranger.

  Feeling claustrophobic and embarrassed by her inability to defend herself, she bypassed the table and raced right out the front door into the frigid night air. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision as she skidded to a halt. She had to go, to get away from the bar and all the memories it conjured, but being alone in the dark was no better than being trapped by that man inside. Yet, she couldn’t quite muster the courage to return to the table. There would be questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. If only she could catch a cab back to the boat.

  A cab? Yeah, right! Dutch Harbor wasn’t exactly New York City and cabs weren’t readily available.

  Not knowing anything about her surroundings, she had no idea which direction would lead her back to the boat. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was to get lost in a strange town where she was out-numbered by the opposite sex nearly ten-to-one.

  The door behind her flew open and Nathan emerged. “Brooke!” His panicked gaze landed squarely on her and he raced to her, wrapping her in a protective embrace. “I thought you’d gone back to the table. When I got there and realized you were gone, I got worried.”

  “How did you know to come looking for me to begin with?” she asked, her voice cracked with emotion.

  “One of Carter’s men was on his way back the table when he spotted that guy harassing you. He came and told me.”

  He pushed her to arms’ length and studied her face. “Did that jerk hurt you?”

  Afraid that she’d start to bawl if she opened her mouth again, Brooke shook her head. She should have been more prepared. If she’d been a normal woman without all the emotional baggage hanging over her head, she’d have warned off the drunk fisherman on her own and moved on. That is, after all, why she’d spent all that time and money on self-defense classes. Only, when the moment finally came to use what she’d learned, she’d frozen, reverting to that horrible night and allowing fear to consume her.