Page 21
Story: SEAL's Honor
It was barely eleven a.m. and he was already jonesing for a drink. Because Everly Campbell made him feel what he imagined shy felt like. Something like... silly.
He was going to have to excise that, with his own fingers if necessary, because it was unacceptable.
Luckily, Everly really didn’t seem to notice that he’d appalled himself into a shocked silence. She was too busy looking around at the village, down the narrow streets that all led to the docks, one way or another. At the last of the morning fog that still clung to the mountains across the sound but had already eased its grip on the harbor. At the bright blue of the inn where he’d stashed her last night and the peeling yellow of the post office across the way.
Grizzly Harbor had been considered a sacred site by native Alaskans thousands of years before the Russians had turned up. Then the American prospectors had come, like Isaac’s ancestors, swarming up from Seattle and San Francisco to see if they could claim their share of gold from the Yukon—and when they couldn’t, because most of them never found much of anything except hardship and endless winter, they’d settled in out-of-the-way, relatively safe places like this one. The village was a jumble of color, bright against the habitually gray Alaskan skies. A red house here, a shocking coral or green one there, and it all gleamed in the bit of midday sunshine that lit up the protected cove.
“It looks like a postcard.” Everly tucked a loose strand of her strawberry blond hair back behind her ear, to keep the wind from playing with it, though it wasn’t only the wind that wanted to. “I can’t tell you how nice it is towalk around a postcard for a change. For one thing, nobody’s lurking behind every tree. Watching me.”
“I know every single person on the street right now,” Blue told her. He held her gaze, and willed her to trust him. He didn’t ask himself why he needed that. He told himself he wanted it, that it would make the job he was about to do a lot easier, but it didn’t feel likewant. It felt a whole lot more raw. A lot more likeneed. “The next ferry won’t show up until Friday. Most of the tourists who came in with you yesterday are out whale watching or fishing or hiking along the shore. I saw one guy down near the general store with about seventeen pounds of camera equipment strapped to his back, wrestling with a trail map. But that’s the only stranger anywhere near you at the moment. I think you’re safe.”
“How do you know all that?” Everly looked startled. She cast a quick look around them, down toward the tourist and his cameras, then returned her attention to Blue. “I mean, I know this is what you do, but I didn’t even see you look.”
“I always look.” He felt himself smile. Barely. “You’re not supposed to see me doing it.”
He didn’t tell her that it was automatic. A survival mechanism, born of all those years when the only things that stood between him and certain disaster were the skills ingrained so deeply he didn’t have to think about them. Now that kind of vigilance was like a second skin.
“I’m amazed at the detail. The camera equipmentandthe trail map.”
“I can identify a trail map. And a camera. And a tourist who’s inevitably going to fall in the water, need to getfished out, and ruin all his brand-spanking-new equipment anyway.”
“I’m not questioning you,” she said softly, and this time, that real smile of hers was all for him. “I’m thanking you.”
Blue realized, abruptly, that he was just standing there. Hanging around the street outside the café as if this were a normal conversation. Some small talk and a pretty smile. Things Blue adamantly did not partake of, ever. He wasn’t a casual man. He never had been.
He didn’t know what it was about Everly that made him feel new to himself. He knew only that he didn’t like it. He was a SEAL, for God’s sake. He didn’t let anything throw him, and certainly not asmile.
He jerked his chin so she would follow him and set off down the winding street, up on the boardwalk, and then back down, aware of every step she took behind him in those silly shoes. But to her credit, she didn’t complain. She didn’t ask him to slow down or adjust his stride. She followed right behind him, gamely enough, until he reached the place down by the pier where he’d parked her rental.
“Oh.” Everly blinked at the car, then at him. “Don’t tell me you drove back over that terrible mountain.” She shuddered, and he didn’t think it was for show. “It was pretty terrifying up there.”
“Yeah, about that.” He didn’t understand why he sounded so flat. So pissed. “Never, ever do something so stupid again.”
He expected her to get her back up at that. No one liked being called stupid, especially when it was true.
But Everly didn’t look offended. If anything, shelooked rueful, and that was the trouble with her. He couldn’t predict a single thing she did. He’d been completely wrong about everything so far, and it was driving him crazy.
“It was stupid,” she agreed, because of course she had to make it impossible to dislike her or even stay rightfully furious with her. “Sostupid. But by the time I realized exactly how stupid it was—and how close to death I was—by which I mean, like, a single half centimeter between me and a sheer drop of I don’t even know how far...” She shook her head, blowing out a breath while she did it. “I didn’t have any choice but to keep going. Because I figured the only thing more stupid than driving over that mountain in the first place was trying to reverse my way back off of it.”
“You know what they call that road?”
“Yes. As you pointed out yesterday, I did in fact consult a map. Hardy’s Pass. Elevation, way too freaking high, and road conditions, not awesome.”
“That’s the official name. Everyone around here calls it Hard-Ass Pass. Because only a hard-ass goes up that mountain and makes it back down the other side.” Before he could think better of it, or even really think it through, Blue reached out and dealt with that same errant chunk of hair that the wind kept toying with. He pretended he didn’t feel the way she went still when his fingers grazed that sweet spot behind her ear. The same way he pretended he didn’t feel a damn thing himself. “So I guess that makes you a hard-ass, little girl.”
She smiled as if she hadn’t shaken before him on an eerily lit porch, or shown him her tears. As if her earsand neck weren’t flushed that telltale red. As if she didn’t feel that touch the way he did, like an ache.
He reminded himself of that bike, pink and white streamers flapping everywhere. The sheltered kid she’d been back then. But it didn’t help. Instead, it made everything in him seem to hum in a kind of recognition he didn’t want to acknowledge.
But Everly was smiling at him.
“I can’t really tell—because there’s a whole growly superhero thing going on, which is very Batman, and of course there’s the continued use of ‘little girl’ in a way that I really don’t think is all that appropriate—but Ithinkthat was a compliment.”
“Growly?” He didn’t touch her again, and thought that deserved a commendation or two. “Batman?”
“I try to like Superman,” Everly said in a rush, as if it were a confession, and he watched with that same fascination as another bright red flush spread over her cheeks. “I try and I try, but he’s just so boring. He does good for no particular reason and is so bland he can completely disguise himself with a pair of glasses....” She let out a small sigh. “I guess I’ve always liked Batman better.”
“I wouldn’t have figured you for a comic book fan. You’re too...”
He was going to have to excise that, with his own fingers if necessary, because it was unacceptable.
Luckily, Everly really didn’t seem to notice that he’d appalled himself into a shocked silence. She was too busy looking around at the village, down the narrow streets that all led to the docks, one way or another. At the last of the morning fog that still clung to the mountains across the sound but had already eased its grip on the harbor. At the bright blue of the inn where he’d stashed her last night and the peeling yellow of the post office across the way.
Grizzly Harbor had been considered a sacred site by native Alaskans thousands of years before the Russians had turned up. Then the American prospectors had come, like Isaac’s ancestors, swarming up from Seattle and San Francisco to see if they could claim their share of gold from the Yukon—and when they couldn’t, because most of them never found much of anything except hardship and endless winter, they’d settled in out-of-the-way, relatively safe places like this one. The village was a jumble of color, bright against the habitually gray Alaskan skies. A red house here, a shocking coral or green one there, and it all gleamed in the bit of midday sunshine that lit up the protected cove.
“It looks like a postcard.” Everly tucked a loose strand of her strawberry blond hair back behind her ear, to keep the wind from playing with it, though it wasn’t only the wind that wanted to. “I can’t tell you how nice it is towalk around a postcard for a change. For one thing, nobody’s lurking behind every tree. Watching me.”
“I know every single person on the street right now,” Blue told her. He held her gaze, and willed her to trust him. He didn’t ask himself why he needed that. He told himself he wanted it, that it would make the job he was about to do a lot easier, but it didn’t feel likewant. It felt a whole lot more raw. A lot more likeneed. “The next ferry won’t show up until Friday. Most of the tourists who came in with you yesterday are out whale watching or fishing or hiking along the shore. I saw one guy down near the general store with about seventeen pounds of camera equipment strapped to his back, wrestling with a trail map. But that’s the only stranger anywhere near you at the moment. I think you’re safe.”
“How do you know all that?” Everly looked startled. She cast a quick look around them, down toward the tourist and his cameras, then returned her attention to Blue. “I mean, I know this is what you do, but I didn’t even see you look.”
“I always look.” He felt himself smile. Barely. “You’re not supposed to see me doing it.”
He didn’t tell her that it was automatic. A survival mechanism, born of all those years when the only things that stood between him and certain disaster were the skills ingrained so deeply he didn’t have to think about them. Now that kind of vigilance was like a second skin.
“I’m amazed at the detail. The camera equipmentandthe trail map.”
“I can identify a trail map. And a camera. And a tourist who’s inevitably going to fall in the water, need to getfished out, and ruin all his brand-spanking-new equipment anyway.”
“I’m not questioning you,” she said softly, and this time, that real smile of hers was all for him. “I’m thanking you.”
Blue realized, abruptly, that he was just standing there. Hanging around the street outside the café as if this were a normal conversation. Some small talk and a pretty smile. Things Blue adamantly did not partake of, ever. He wasn’t a casual man. He never had been.
He didn’t know what it was about Everly that made him feel new to himself. He knew only that he didn’t like it. He was a SEAL, for God’s sake. He didn’t let anything throw him, and certainly not asmile.
He jerked his chin so she would follow him and set off down the winding street, up on the boardwalk, and then back down, aware of every step she took behind him in those silly shoes. But to her credit, she didn’t complain. She didn’t ask him to slow down or adjust his stride. She followed right behind him, gamely enough, until he reached the place down by the pier where he’d parked her rental.
“Oh.” Everly blinked at the car, then at him. “Don’t tell me you drove back over that terrible mountain.” She shuddered, and he didn’t think it was for show. “It was pretty terrifying up there.”
“Yeah, about that.” He didn’t understand why he sounded so flat. So pissed. “Never, ever do something so stupid again.”
He expected her to get her back up at that. No one liked being called stupid, especially when it was true.
But Everly didn’t look offended. If anything, shelooked rueful, and that was the trouble with her. He couldn’t predict a single thing she did. He’d been completely wrong about everything so far, and it was driving him crazy.
“It was stupid,” she agreed, because of course she had to make it impossible to dislike her or even stay rightfully furious with her. “Sostupid. But by the time I realized exactly how stupid it was—and how close to death I was—by which I mean, like, a single half centimeter between me and a sheer drop of I don’t even know how far...” She shook her head, blowing out a breath while she did it. “I didn’t have any choice but to keep going. Because I figured the only thing more stupid than driving over that mountain in the first place was trying to reverse my way back off of it.”
“You know what they call that road?”
“Yes. As you pointed out yesterday, I did in fact consult a map. Hardy’s Pass. Elevation, way too freaking high, and road conditions, not awesome.”
“That’s the official name. Everyone around here calls it Hard-Ass Pass. Because only a hard-ass goes up that mountain and makes it back down the other side.” Before he could think better of it, or even really think it through, Blue reached out and dealt with that same errant chunk of hair that the wind kept toying with. He pretended he didn’t feel the way she went still when his fingers grazed that sweet spot behind her ear. The same way he pretended he didn’t feel a damn thing himself. “So I guess that makes you a hard-ass, little girl.”
She smiled as if she hadn’t shaken before him on an eerily lit porch, or shown him her tears. As if her earsand neck weren’t flushed that telltale red. As if she didn’t feel that touch the way he did, like an ache.
He reminded himself of that bike, pink and white streamers flapping everywhere. The sheltered kid she’d been back then. But it didn’t help. Instead, it made everything in him seem to hum in a kind of recognition he didn’t want to acknowledge.
But Everly was smiling at him.
“I can’t really tell—because there’s a whole growly superhero thing going on, which is very Batman, and of course there’s the continued use of ‘little girl’ in a way that I really don’t think is all that appropriate—but Ithinkthat was a compliment.”
“Growly?” He didn’t touch her again, and thought that deserved a commendation or two. “Batman?”
“I try to like Superman,” Everly said in a rush, as if it were a confession, and he watched with that same fascination as another bright red flush spread over her cheeks. “I try and I try, but he’s just so boring. He does good for no particular reason and is so bland he can completely disguise himself with a pair of glasses....” She let out a small sigh. “I guess I’ve always liked Batman better.”
“I wouldn’t have figured you for a comic book fan. You’re too...”
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