It couldn’t be good that Megan’s passengers were singing the theme song from Gilligan’s Island—“a tale of a fateful trip.” Or that two of them were snoring loudly. Halfway back to Lost Harbor and they still hadn’t sighted anything for the tourists to write home about. She’d better come up with something fast, or her online reviews were going to be brutal.
They were just passing Bird Rock, where thousands of birds congregated in the summer. Surely there had to be at least one species that her passengers could get excited about. Guillemots, auks and sea ducks only went so far. Megan fished under her bright yellow rain jacket for her binoculars. She didn’t mind the way the ocean spray misted her face and sent her hair into a soggy, bedraggled frizz—but her precious Zeiss Victory SFs had to be protected at all costs.
“Stop the boat!” she shouted a second later. “I got something!”
The Forget Me Not lurched to half its previous speed. Her passengers slid across the bench seats, clutching each other and laughing.
Still captivated by the shape that had just caught her eye, Megan gestured an apology at her passengers. “Sorry, everyone, I get carried away when I spot something extra special.”
Luckily, her boat was an old tub built to ride out the worst Alaska storms. Her passengers were unlikely to go overboard, although the chances of springing a leak were essentially a hundred percent. Her boat pilot—she thought of him as Captain Kid, since he’d just barely reached the age at which he could legally captain a boat—had warned her of a new one just this morning.
After a quick check to make sure everyone was still onboard, she aimed her binoculars off the starboard bow. “This is a very lucky day, you guys. Do you see that blob of white just on the tip of that cliff face?”
Everyone looked in the direction she was pointing, to the jagged fortress of rocks. Waves crashed at its base, while seagulls tilted and wheeled above it. Their crying made a lonely sound, even though they were probably just chatting about the nearest bed of oysters.
“That’s called Bird Rock, for a good reason. Hundreds of species stop here over the course of the summer. Some of them nest, some are just passing through. But today…” She focused closer on the elegant white plumage with the black cap and deep orange bill.
“Looks like the entire cliff is white,” said one of her tourist passengers.
“Yes, there’s a lot of bird poop everywhere,” Megan answered absently. “You can smell it if we get close. Should we get closer? Ben, can we get closer?”
“Sure thing.” Ben—Captain Kid—answered from inside the wheelhouse as he turned the Forget Me Not toward Bird Rock.
“Mama, can I drive just this little bit?” Ruby piped up from her usual spot next to Ben. Her little eight-year-old city girl had a new goal in life—getting permission to pilot the Forget Me Not.
Not happening. Definitely not happening.
“In ten years, absolutely,” Megan called to her daughter from her spot on the stern deck. The tourists laughed sympathetically.
“Sweet saints alive. I see it. Is that…a Caspian tern?” one of them exclaimed. “Unusual to see them so far north, no?”
Megan smiled under her binoculars. Moments like this told her she’d done the right thing coming to Lost Harbor. These passengers—mostly elderly retirees with a passion for nature—were her kindred spirits. Where else could an entire boatful of people—okay, so she only had five customers today, but the season was still early—sigh in unison at the rare sighting?
The Forget Me Not was now close enough to Bird Rock so that she could clearly make out the Caspian tern’s ruffled plumage.
“Ruby, come on out here, I want you to see this.” She beckoned to her daughter. Ruby came skipping out of the wheelhouse in her brown rubber boots and her polka dot slicker and once again Megan experienced that overwhelming sensation of being exactly where she was supposed to be.
Ruby loved Alaska. She loved Misty Bay and the glacial peaks of Lost Souls Wilderness arrayed on the other side of the bay. She never got seasick the way Megan sometimes did. The cold didn’t bother her. She never got bored on the water. When things got slow, she curled up in the wheelhouse with a backpack full of math books.
I made the right choice coming here. Just look at that face!
Smiling, Megan held out her hand to Ruby, whose face glowed as she darted across the deck.
And then everything happened at once.
Another boat roared between them and Bird Rock. A cloud of cawing birds flapped into the air. The wake of the passing boat rippled toward them in a curl of white. Ruby’s boot hit a patch of water and she wheeled her arms to keep her balance. Megan flung herself across the deck to grab Ruby’s arm. Even though her daughter was laughing hysterically, Megan’s imagination had already conjured up the image of Ruby launching over the railing into the ocean.
“Hey!” she yelled at the boat. Through the spray misting the air between the two vessels, she recognized the culprit. Of course. The F/V Jack Hammer. Fishing charter to the wealthy. Her nemesis. Destroyer of peace. Ruiner of everything.
Standing on the back of the deck, a dark-haired man in sunglasses and full waders raised a gloved hand in apology.
Lucas Holt.
The first time they’d met, he’d rudely called her an “ignoramus” and lectured her about a “Boating Basics” class. Things hadn’t gotten any better since then.
Had she really just been thinking that Lost Harbor was exactly where she was supposed to be? It would have been absolutely perfect except for one person—the man pretending to be sorry for nearly capsizing them.
“I don’t accept your apology!” she shouted after the boat. Its stern seemed to mock her, the giant twin engines thumbing their noses at her. Had Lucas intended to mess with her Caspian tern sighting? She wouldn’t put it past him, even though he probably had no idea how exciting it was to see one.
Scratch that. Of course he knew. Lucas had grown up here and knew quite a bit about the wildlife. As he’d put it to her once—“the birds help me find the fish. The fish help me find the money. So yeah, I’ve learned what I need to know about birds.”
God, she hated him.
“Mama!” Ruby tugged her arm out of Megan’s grip. “You’re squishing me.”
“Sorry, sweetie. I thought you were about to go over the side.”
“I’m wearing my float vest.”
“Of course you are.” Megan wouldn’t let Ruby step foot on any boat without a PFD. “But that water would turn you into an ice cube in about twenty seconds.”
“The Caspian tern is gone.” The disappointment in her passengers’ voice made her heart sink. There went half her tips. All thanks to Lucas Holt and his irresponsible boating practices.
“We can hang out here for a little bit and see if he comes back.” Megan glanced back at Ben, who was busy navigating the wake of the Jack Hammer.
Jack Hammer. Was there ever such a stupid name for a boat? It had been named by Lucas’ father, Jack “the Hammer” Holt—someone arrogant enough to name a boat after himself.
Maybe arrogance ran in the family.
“But we have lunch reservations,” said one of the tourists.
“Oh, that’s not a problem. Lunch is included.” She waved her hand at the cooler that sat against the wheelhouse. “Juice boxes and a selection of healthy sandwiches.”
The passengers glanced amongst themselves. “Yes, but our reservations are for all-you-can-eat King Crab legs.”
“Right. Of course.” She caught Ben’s eye and jerked her head in the direction of the harbor. If she had her wish, she’d head the other way, toward the point, where she’d once spotted a Wandering Tattler and an orca had surfaced about three yards away.
But not everyone had her stamina when it came to wildlife viewing. Some people actually had lives, and lunch reservations.
Captain Kid, looking relieved, swung the wheel so the Forget Me Not headed for the harbor. He probably had lunch plans too.
Well, so did she. She planned to eat sandwiches out of a cooler with Ruby. Because at this rate, that was all she could afford. Unless business started to pick up, she wouldn’t even be able to fuel the Forget Me Not. It would become the Fuel Me Not.
“Why are you laughing, Mama?” Ruby tugged at her hand. “It’s that weird laugh when you’re thinking something mean. You aren’t mad at Lucas, are you? I didn’t go overboard.”
“No, but you could have. Thanks for reminding me. I’m going to talk to him as soon as we get back to the harbor.”
Ruby tilted her head up, her wide dark eyes sparkling. “Mama, he’s actually pretty nice. You just don’t believe it.”
“
Maybe he’s nice to you, which I appreciate. But not to me. I’m going to talk to him, and then depending on what he says, report him to the harbormaster.”
“You already did that.”
So she had—and the sound of the harbormaster’s laughter still echoed on certain late nights when she relived the whole saga of her and Lucas.
“And I’ll do it again. Someone’s got to speak up.”
Ruby shrugged, losing interest. “I’m hungry, Mama.”
The Forget Me Not hit a swell and its aluminum frame vibrated with the impact. Megan grabbed the railing with one hand and Ruby with the other. Her binoculars bumped against her chest. “We’ll eat as soon as we tie up.”
“Pizza?” Ruby asked hopefully.
“Sandwiches. Lots of sandwiches.”
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