Page 1 of Under the Northern Lights

“I always save the best for last,” Billy, the private tour guide Aurora Daniels had hired through Duck, Duck, Goose Tours out of Juneau, announced with a smile as they worked their way down the hillside’s muddy, rain-dampened path.

The best .

Excitement coursed through Aurora. She lived for these moments. For the chance to shoot nature’s glory in all its forms through the lens of her camera. If only it weren’t raining. It wasn’t heavy rain thankfully. More of an inconvenient drizzle.

Billy had been taking her that morning, as per her request, to fishing spots along the river that were off the beaten path to get shots for World Adventures Magazine .

Aurora had been contacted by the esteemed adventure travel magazine because she specialized in nature photography.

Using Aurora’s photographs for an article the magazine planned to publish in an upcoming issue would introduce their readers to lesser-known river fishing destinations in the southern parts of Alaska.

The opportunity to work for her dream magazine was even more exciting than all of the awards and accolades she’d received over the years for her photographs.

Especially when it came with the very real possibility of being offered a permanent position with the magazine.

If she delivered exactly what they were looking for.

“It’s right down there through those trees,” Billy said.

“I can hear it,” Aurora acknowledged with a nod.

“I can’t imagine the river view being better than the last fishing spot we went to,” Aurora said as she eyed the opening at the base of the woods where the hillside appeared to spill out onto an expanse of wet grass. The river was close, its gurgling flow growing louder.

“Just wait,” her guide, whom Aurora guessed to be somewhere in his early sixties, said as he grabbed onto one tree trunk after another on either side of the trail, slowing his descent. Age had not made him less sure-footed.

Aurora did the same, following him down the steep hillside at what felt like a snail’s pace.

It wasn’t as if she’d never done this sort of thing before.

She had; it was part of being a professional nature photographer.

Whether that required climbing mountains or hiking down into valleys, she was all in.

Just as she was now, despite the rain. Because there was nothing she wanted more than to get that perfect shot.

Her eagerness to see the pristine Alaskan river, to capture its flow in photographs, had her wishing she could race ahead of Billy.

“You don’t have to go slow on my account,” she said.

“I’m pretty nimble on my feet.” No sooner had the statement passed her lips than Aurora’s boots slipped out from under her.

She landed on her backside with a squeal, her backpack somewhat cushioning her fall.

Momentum carried her down the hill past her guide, whose expression was one of alarm.

“Miss Daniels!” Billy cried out as she slid down the muddied path.

“I’m good!” Aurora called back as she shot through the opening at the edge of the trees. She kept a protective grip on the camera bag strapped beneath her oversized poncho until her wild ride finally came to an end. Sitting up, she gasped as she took in the grandeur of the nearby river.

“Miss Daniels!” Billy hurried to reach her. “Are you hurt?” he asked with a worried frown, his bushy eyebrows knitting tightly together.

She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Hurt, no. Embarrassed, yes. Nimble? Apparently not as much as I thought myself to be.”

Some of the panic eased from his weathered face. “Here,” he said, offering her a hand, “let me help you up.”

As she got to her feet, Aurora glanced once more at the river. “Another twenty feet or so and I might have been taking a very cold swim today.” She laughed. Fortunately, she hadn’t. Her cameras were weatherproof, not waterproof.

“You sure know how to age an old man,” Billy said with a shake of his graying head.

Reaching up, she quickly worked several damp tendrils of hair back into the ponytail holder they had escaped from. Then she brushed the muddy debris from the back of her jeans as best she could.

“Oh dear,” Aurora said as she discovered one side of her rain poncho had ripped apart at the seam during her slide down the hillside.

“No worries. I’ve got you covered,” Billy said. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a bright yellow duck poncho with the tour company’s name imprinted across the back. One that matched his own. “We always have spares on hand in case our guests need a rain poncho during their tour.”

“Thank you,” she said as he handed it over to her. “I’ll pay you for it when we get back to the SUV.”

“Consider it a souvenir,” he replied with a smile.

She was grateful for the replacement poncho, duckbill hood or not.

It would help to keep her camera bag dry.

She switched out of her ripped poncho and into the new one.

Then Aurora took a long moment to focus on her surroundings.

She used to dream about traveling to Alaska.

It was where her parents first met and fell in love.

It was also where Aurora and her ex were supposed to spend their honeymoon that very month.

But she’d realized, thankfully before it was too late, that they were trying too hard for the romantic, spend the rest of your life together kind of love.

Theirs was more of a deep friendship with no real promise of becoming what her parents shared together.

After she voiced her concerns and he’d had a few moments to mentally digest them, Ben agreed, and the engagement was over.

Aurora’s decision to accept the assignment for the magazine hadn’t been as easy as it would have been before her breakup.

A part of her feared that being in Alaska might be too painful a reminder of what she’d given up.

A safe, comfortable marriage to her good friend.

Surely, she and Ben wouldn’t have been the first couple ever to marry without those butterflies-when-I-see-you stirrings.

However, Aurora wanted more in her marriage. Deserved more. And so did Ben.

Aurora pulled her camera out from beneath the poncho, her gaze fixed on the river. “This spot is picture perfect. If only the drizzle would clear up.”

“Do you want to head back up to the Jeep to wait and see if this weather eases up some?”

Aurora shook her head. “I have too much riding on these pictures to let a little inclement weather, or an unexpected slide down a muddy hillside, keep me from accomplishing what I came here to do.” She glanced in Billy’s direction.

“But there’s no reason for you to stay down here in this rain.

I’m sure I can find my way back up to the Jeep when I’m done. ”

“I’m Alaskan born,” he said. “We’re used to the rain. Go on and get your pictures,” he added, motioning in the direction of the rushing water beyond the grassy bank. “I’m going to step away and let you do your job.”

“Thank you.” She smiled back. “I’ll try not to lose track of the time.” Easy to do when one is caught up in the beauty of nature.

“I’ll give a whistle when it’s getting close to leaving time. And remember what I told you at our first stop. If you happen to see a bear or moose while you’re standing out here by the water?—”

“Keep my distance,” she finished for him with an acknowledging nod.

“I will.” Emilia McBain, a.k.a. Emmy, being her very best friend, had already stressed to Aurora before she’d flown to Alaska that while moose are quite huggable in stuffed animal form, they were not anywhere near as cuddly in real life.

Especially during mating season, which, according to the internet, they were currently in.

After her guide walked away, Aurora turned and began snapping a few test shots. The lens she’d chosen did well in low lighting and could be safely used in damp conditions.

Stepping forward, she made her way along the river’s edge. Aurora focused on taking pictures she believed would stir a fisherman’s interest and lure him, pun intended, to Alaska. Because that’s what World Adventures Magazine was looking for.

It wasn’t until the rain started coming down harder that Aurora was forced to put her camera away.

The oversized duck head hood of the poncho Billy had given her had helped to keep the camera dry while she’d been shooting, but the wind had begun to stir, the occasional gusts sending the light rain sideways.

She was still careful despite having a waterproof casing over her prized possession.

A loud whistle had Aurora glancing back in the direction from which she’d started. She was surprised to find that she had wandered farther down the riverbank than she’d intended to.

Billy, who gave her the “you don’t want to miss your flight” signal, had backed himself up beneath the cover of the trees.

His bright yellow duck hood, with its droopy orange bill, was pulled down low over his face to block out the shifting rain as he stood patiently waiting for her to take her pictures.

She returned a quick wave to let her guide know she had heard his whistle as she started back.

Fussy weather or not, her day had been a success.

The hike back up the wooded hillside with her tour guide was far less eventful, and thankfully so.

Her backside wasn’t up for another go at being a human bobsled.

“Thank you,” she said as Billy hurried past to open the Jeep’s passenger door for her.

Aurora set her backpack inside and then ducked into the passenger side.

Once she’d buckled herself in, she pulled her cell phone from the front pocket of her backpack and checked to see if she had any missed messages.

No signal. Aurora pressed the power button, putting her phone to sleep.

“Sorry you spent more than half of your tour in the rain,” Billy apologized as he buckled in and started the engine.