Return by Sea (Glacier Adventure Series Book 3)

by Tracey Jerald

  “What do you mean?” I immediately became protective.

  “I mean my sister’s too used to men saying one thing but meaning another when it comes to our species. She’s too suspicious. She’s too young to be this cynical about men. I hate that for her.”

  “There’s no wrong age for her to be cynical about men,” I countered.

  Jed laughed at my joke, but I felt his disapproval. In the back of Brad’s vehicle, I reach up and clutch Jed’s cross. “Especially when I likely caused most of it?” I whisper, as we drive through the streets. I doubt I’m overheard sitting behind Rainey with the music on.

  The neon sign declaring our arrival at Smith’s has her turning the volume down and facing me. “Please don’t make a big deal when we get inside,” she pleads.

  “I wouldn’t do that.” Except, I was contemplating it. The urge to wrap my arms around Maris and hug her is riding me hard.

  “Nick, despite my dogging you all day, you’re you.”

  “And that means?”

  Rainey rolls her eyes at me as Brad parks the vehicle. “It means that most of Alaska claim you as their native son since you won the title belt, despite your disdain for our state. I suspect the moment the word goes out that you’re in the bar, your reason for seeing Maris will be just a memory once your fans arrive.”

  “I’m not going to forget why I’m here,” I say, affronted.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she retorts.

  Brad chuckles.

  I flick him off. Thank God Charmaine isn’t here. I’d owe her my next paycheck for the amount of swearing I’ve done since I got here.

  “Get it all out now,” Rainey warns as she opens her door. “I give you thirty minutes tops to be Nick. Then you’d better be prepared to be Nick Cain.” Hopping out, she heads inside the Brewhouse without waiting for me or Brad.

  “Come on, it’s not really going to get that bad. Is it?”

  “No. But Rainey’s not wrong either. We’re going to be swamped with people trying to get to us. Hey! I have an idea.” Brad begins frantically texting.

  “What are you doing?” I lean forward and try to peer over his shoulder.

  “Inviting the guys from the boat down for a drink. This way, they won’t fawn over you like you’re a rock star, and you’ll be well insulated.”

  “That’s genius. Tell them I’m buying.” I encourage this idea. I’d rather answer fight questions all night from the guys who work from Brad than be groped by groupies. I’ve been done with that shit for a long while, despite the trash talk I’ve tossed at the guys over the years. To be honest, with my work at Razor, it’s been way too damn long since I found a woman even remotely attractive. They don’t have the same fall of dark hair or spark in their indigo eyes. And I’m damn tired pretending I don’t care about what the people I care about think about me. I care too much; I just don’t know how to regain the respect I lost with them.

  Brad’s fingers finish moving. “Done.” Pings start coming in. “Looks like you have a half hour to keep your gloves up.”

  “Or avoid a rear naked choke,” I agree.

  “Yeah. I’m going to need a drink for you to explain that one.” We both slide out and head inside.

  The bouncer’s eyes widen comically when Brad and I step up in front of him. “Man, huge fan. Major.”

  I shake his hand even as he stamps the back of my hand without checking my ID. “Appreciate it.”

  “Amaq, can you keep a sharp eye for my crew? They’re going to be joining us by the pool table.” Brad’s eyes drop to the kid’s and my still-joined hands.

  “Sure thing, Brad.” With another pump of my hand, he lets it go. “Nice to meet you in person, Mr. Cain.”

  I nod, smile, and turn. But then it’s me who’s starstruck.

  Because there she is.

  Long dark hair tumbling over a body any man would die for the right to touch that’s wrapped in a tight black bodysuit. Nothing takes away from her magnificent face except the blank look she’s aiming in my direction. Giving in to temptation, I step forward and wrap my arms around her. Tugging her against my chest, I inhale her scent—musky, wild, daring. It’s simply Maris.

  “Stop, Nick. Let me go.” Maris squirms in my arms. Heat rushes into her cheeks

  I bend my head and whisper in her ear, “Not quite yet.”

  “You’re making a scene.”

  Not even close. “Would you believe me if I just wanted to tell you I’m proud as hell of what you’re doing for that little boy?”

  She jerks back, and her lips part. She wets the lower one, her tongue darting out to slick it down. God, this woman could tempt a saint, and no one ever claimed I was one of those. “No, Nick. Not for a second.”

  My lips curve in the first real smile since the last time I saw her. Little Mari Sunshine, my ass, Jed. I recall his nickname for his sister. Woman’s as cantankerous and distrusting as ever. “Good.” My arms tighten for just a heartbeat more before I let her go to follow Brad.

  Maris

  “Rainey and Brad should have had more time to just be. They went through too many trials too early in their marriage. I have never shared their secret with anyone else, but I need to let the pain of their loss out somewhere. That’s the kind of love I want—one that withstands that kind of agony and still pushes on.” - From the journals of Jedidiah Smith.

  “So, you’re really doing it?” Rainey asks. Brad’s playing pool on the far side of the room with Nick and what appears to be most of the members of his fishing crew. Instead of joining them, she hiked herself up onto a stool and has been nursing a glass of wine at the corner of the bar while I work filling the orders as bar back tonight.

  “I am,” I confirm, wiping down the counter in front of her before I place a duo of clean pilsner glasses there. Yanking out two more from the crate to my left, I begin drawing the beer from the center tap—a delicious porter from a microbrewery up in Skagway. Carefully, I switch the last glass out without switching off the tap, a trick I learned long ago to speed up the process of fulfilling orders. Moving the glasses two by two next to the ticket to be picked up by one of my harried waitstaff, I finish explaining to Rainey, “I’m more than this.”

  “Anyone who knows you would never question that,” Rainey declares.

  Resting my folded arms on the bar, I try to put the thoughts that have plagued me since Jed’s death into words. “I’m a strong woman for the way I was raised. I used to imagine a future with someone who would not only be able to appreciate that but bring their own strength to our relationship. I dreamed we’d have a houseful of children who would understand it isn’t physical power but an inner sense of self that drives that.” Toying with the edge of the Rainey’s cocktail napkin, I say flatly, “Life happened. Then Jed died. And I was finally slapped across the face with the fact there’s nothing wrong with my life—if I want to live it alone.”

  “There isn’t.” But a flash of something crosses Rainey’s face.

  “Say it,” I demand.

  “If this is what you really want, Maris. Somehow, I always hoped…” Her eyes dart to the corner where Brad is racking up the balls again. Nick is chalking up his cue, but as if he can sense my eyes on him, his gaze locks with mine. I wrench mine away.

  “I’ve had enough of putting my life on hold for hopes, wishes, and maybe somedays. I deserve to be happy right now,” I state, firm in my decision.

  “Then no matter what, Brad and I are behind you,” Rainey vows.

  Something inside me unknots at her words. I’m about to respond when the front door to the Brewhouse opens. Like someone’s just rammed an I beam up my spine, I come to full attention. “I’m really glad you said that because I might need that help starting right about now.” Untying the apron strings from behind my back, I slide out from behind the bar. Fortunately, we’re still technically in the off-season, so the place isn’t jammed as I approach the woman who holds a major key to my happiness in the palm of her hands. “Wel
come to Smith’s Brewhouse. I’ll be happy to seat Mrs. Gustofson, Kristina.” I pluck the menu away from the startled hostess and extend an arm gracefully without the older woman saying a word.

  The already overwhelming burden of having Nick in my bar that had been crushing me dissipates as I maneuver to a booth that has a clear view of the entire Brewhouse. While I have nothing to be ashamed of, my stomach is pitching like the stormiest of seas. “Tonight’s specials are an amazing halibut chowder that I tried earlier. It really isn’t to be missed. Halibut is also our Catch of the Day. Tonight it’s prepared with a soy, honey, lemon butter glaze. Served with Yukon potatoes, you’ll find both prices clipped to the inside of your menu.”

  Mrs. Gustafson blinks up at me for a moment, disconcerted. “I rather expected to suffer through traditional bar fare this evening.”

  I can’t help my lips curving. “While those items are on the menu, Mrs. Gustofson, I try not to serve them until after 11:00 p.m. I don’t like families being impeded by people who come to Smith’s to celebrate events.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, last week we hosted a joint baby shower.” It gives me an incredible sense of pride as the woman’s jaw unhinges. “Maybe back in my father’s day, this was a dockside bar, but it hasn’t been that in a number of years. I believe—strongly—that families should have a warm, welcoming place to dine in. This is now a restaurant with a full-service bar. It’s taken a long time to build one’s reputation as strong as the other,” I correct her quietly.

  “I’m beginning to see that,” Mrs. Gustofson murmurs as a family of four is sat across from her. She offers them a smile before asking, “If I have the soup, will I be too full for the special?”

  I wink. “I have it on great authority the fish tastes fantastic on top of salad for lunch or dinner the next day.”

  “Then if you add a Diet Coke to the order, I think you’ve sold me on what I’m eating.”

  I write down Mrs. Gustofson’s order and start to turn away before I pause. Making a decision, I offer, “If you’d like to join us, Rainey Meyers is here tonight. She and I are talking at the bar about everything while her husband and some of his friends play pool.”

  Instead of the revulsion I expect to cross her face, a twinge of something—maybe regret—does. “You have to work the bar all night?”

  “Just a few more hours. The child of my regular bartender became ill. I told her to take the night off—that I would fill in.”

  “Then I would enjoy that after I enjoy my meal. Thank you.” She bends over to fiddle in her purse, and I use it as a chance to escape.

  I don’t know what it is about that woman that causes my insides to clench up. Maybe it’s just the idea she’s the key roadblock between me and my dreams.

  That must be it.

  Whistling cheerfully, I snag a new apron and make my way around the bar to fill the small order of drinks that have piled up.

  Rainey smiles. “What was all that about? The last time I saw you move that fast to greet a guest, you swore it was a crew member of the Deadliest Catch.”

  I throw back my head and laugh uproariously, unaware I’ve garnered the attention of more than one person at the Brewhouse by doing so.

  “Oh Lord, Rainey, stop telling such lies about me!” I screech. My head falls into my hands as Mrs. G.—as I’ve now taken to calling her—and one of my sisters have bonded. “I did not have half the boys at school chasing after me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. G,” Rainey begins to correct herself. “It wasn’t just Juneau-Douglas High. It was also Thunder Mountain High.”

  I pick up a crouton from the basket Rainey asked to munch on and fling it at her head. She adroitly ducks and it whacks Mrs. G. right in the chest. “Now see what you made me do?” But I’m laughing so hard tears are welling in my eyes as I reach over the bar for a stack of napkins. I hand one to each of the women. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. G.”

  The older woman is dashing the wetness away from her own cheeks. Gratefully taking the napkin I offer her, she dabs the rest of the moisture away. “What I want to know, Maris, is how you could be so oblivious to your beauty? And it’s obvious from speaking with your friend it’s not just skin-deep.”

  Rainey’s hands slap the bar before she pushes herself to her feet on the rail. “Thank you!” Reseating herself, she punches me in the arm good-naturedly. “She doesn’t see herself like that,” Rainey explains.

  “How about shoveling in more bread and letting me answer for myself?” Before Rainey can say anything else, I grab a new crouton and slip it between her teeth. “I honestly don’t, Mrs. G. I mean, I’m just me.”

  Mrs. G. lifts her soda in a toast. “And from what I’ve witnessed tonight, that’s a fine woman. Like you tried to tell me, you’re a businesswoman with a good head on her shoulders. And lovely friends who obviously support you.”

  Rainey grins around the toasted bread that looks like a cigar. Removing it, she dunks it into the special crab dip I slipped from the kitchen and moans, “So good.”

  “I had the specials myself earlier. They were delicious, indeed. Where did you find your chef?” Mrs. G. wonders.

  I’m about to answer when I feel a tingle of awareness before a thickly hewn arm bands around my waist. My body goes rigid with tension as Nick slips around the back of the bar. He leans down to nuzzle my temple. Even as I try to calm my accelerated breathing, I’m shooting Rainey a fulminating glance. What the hell does he think he’s doing?

  Her slack-jawed expression gives me no clue. Unfortunately, the woman next to her, who holds the first key to unlock my future, is scrutinizing my every move.

  I swear to God, Jed didn’t make me take self-defense for nothing. If I have to, I’m going to smash the glass of water I’m drinking on the counter and jab him in the eye with the shards. “Nick, you have about three seconds to remove your hands from me.” My voice could help the scientists on top of Mendenhall recrystallize the snow in such a way we’d be back in the Ice Age. Then I feel like a royal bitch because I promised myself I wouldn’t be this person to him anymore.

  “You promised we’d talk, and we haven’t had a chance all night, Maris.” His voice sounds like a seductive purr in comparison to his normally conceited tone.

  Damnit, why now? Why here? I mouth, “Brad,” to Rainey, who immediately reaches for her cell. To Nick, I calmly reply, “I’m working right now. I told you it might not be possible.”

  For a brief moment, his arm tightens before he lets me go. “Then when?” He spins me around, and I get my first good look at his handsome face. And a quiver races through me when I find his eyes reflect the same brokenness I see in the mirror every day.

  The words fall from my lips without hesitation. “Soon, Nick. I promise. I wouldn’t let one of Jed’s friends down. Not ever.”

  His arm slackens further. “One of Jed’s friends. Right.”

  I gesture behind me. “It’s just, now’s not a good time. Can you understand that?”

  “When will be?”

  I open my mouth, and I’m not sure which of us is more surprised when what comes out is “Tomorrow. Why don’t we meet for coffee at Warm Up?”

  “That sounds good. Around nine?”

  I snort. “Not unless you want me to be mean, Nick. And you know I can do mean very well.”

  He laughs and it changes his whole face. The dark circles beneath his eyes seem to fade as the smile causes them to crinkle at the corners. “Ten it is. I’ll see you then, Sunshine.”

  “Don’t call…” I start to lecture. But Nick’s slipped away before I can plead with him not to call me by Jed’s nickname for me.

  “Okay?” Rainey asks the minute I face her again.

  “Okay? Let’s see.” I lift my hand and tick off my fingers. “One of Jed’s best friends who I’ve always fought my feelings for has decided to blow back into my life at the worst possible minute. Do you think the universe could cut me some slack?” Angry tears start to form, but I refuse to let t
hem form.

  “Umm, not to pry,” Mrs. Gustofson interjects.

  “Feel free, Mrs. G. That little scene just played out in front of enough people it will be all over tomorrow that the Nick Cain was making a play for Maris,” Rainey puts in.

  At her words, my head thunks to the bar before I start rolling it back and forth. Blindly, I reach over and pinch her. Hard.

  She squeals before laughing. “It’s true.”

  “Who’s Nick Cain?”

  Mrs. Gustofson’s innocuous question has my head snapping back so fast I almost clock Rainey in the chin as she was leaning over to get her retribution. “Did you just say that? You don’t know who Nick Cain is?” I barely hold myself on the stool as laughter overcomes me and Rainey. “Nick Cain is an Alaskan legend.” I stress the word.

  “He really is, Mrs. G.” Rainey nods. “Grew up in Ketchikan, worked for the Great Alaskan Lumberjack Show. Left and moved to Vegas where he was spotted by a sports recruiter. He became one of the top MMA fighters of all time.”

  “One of?” I parrot Nick’s deep voice.

  “Sorry. He’s ‘the Champ.’ Now, he runs his own facility down in Albuquerque training the next generation of fighters.”

  “While he sounds…intriguing”—I roll in my lips to bite them over Mrs. Gustofson’s word choice—“I was more intrigued by the reference to your brother. You mentioned he was deceased during our first meeting, Maris.”

  I grab my glass and take a long drink of water before answering. “Yes, I did. I feel like a large part of me is missing without Jed in my life.”

  “It’s a testament to the man he was his friends feel the same way.”

  I blink rapidly. Words try to form, but I can’t seem to make more than an incoherent sound. Brad, Jennings, Kody, and damnit even Nick are a testament to my brother. Spinning around in my stool, I spy him just as he leans down for another shot. The cross my brother left him—our grandfather’s cross—falls out and grazes the baize.