Page 3 of Under the Northern Lights

“Wet one out there,” Gage said as if the rain-drenched woman wasn’t already fully aware of that. Giving himself a mental head slap, he added, “Can I lend you a hand with your bags so you can take off your jacket too?”

The woman looked down as if she’d forgotten they were there and then back up at him. “That’s nice of you to offer, but there’s no need. I’m used to hauling my bags and carry-on around with me when I travel.”

Definitely a serious picture-taker.

“Can I at least help you with your coat?”

She eased her travel-battered carry-on up against the wall where it would be out of the way.

“I’m too chilled to take my jacket off right now, but I will need to remove my backpack before sitting down,” she said as she struggled to work the straps down over her shoulders while balancing the camera bag dangling at her side.

Gage shot up from his seat and hurried over to where she still stood by the door.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said as she pulled her arm free of the first strap.

Lifting the pack off her back, he waited as she twisted slightly, moved the camera bag out of the way, and then slipped her other arm free of the remaining strap as he held it.

“There you go,” he said.

Turning to face him, she reached for her bag. Then, looking up at him with a grateful smile, she said, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he replied, his gaze drawn to those perfectly aligned pearly whites and the naturally full, pink lips that framed them.

“Umm ... my bag,” the woman prompted.

Gage blinked, and then forced his gaze away from her mouth only to have it detour to her thickly lashed, chocolate-brown eyes.

Giving himself a mental kick in the backside, he looked down at the strap still held firmly in his grasp at his side.

Inches above which, her much smaller hand awaited the bag’s release.

“Sorry, I was ... uh, just making sure you had a good grip on it before I let go. The bag’s pretty heavy.”

“I’ve got it,” she assured him with a grin.

Releasing his hold on the bag, Gage offered up a quick smile.

“All yours.” Then he turned and made his way back to his table, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

He wasn’t even sure what had caused them to be that way.

Maybe he’d better refrain from drinking any more coffee, even if that meant wasting the cup Glady had just poured for him.

Attempting to block out all thoughts of the woman standing across the room hanging up her poncho, Gage forced himself to redirect his focus to his own issues. Mainly, keeping his family’s fishing retreat from going belly-up in these ever-changing times.

The kitchen door swung open.

“Here’s a selection of teas for you to choose from,” Glady announced as she returned to the dining area.

Crossing the room, she set the basket of assorted tea bags down onto the vacant table next to Gage’s.

“Come on and have a seat over here before you catch yourself a chill. You can warm yourself up by the hearth while you drink your tea. The water is heating on the stove as we speak.”

“Thank you.” The woman hesitated, glancing down at her feet and then back up at Glady with a troubled expression. “I should probably take my hiking boots off first. They’re pretty damp from the rain, not to mention a little muddy. I’d hate to track water and mud across your floor.”

“That’s what mops are for,” Glady said. “Now leave those boots on and bring yourself on over here by this cozy fire before you catch your death.”

“Thank you.”

Gage fought a grin as he watched the woman practically tiptoe across the room in the direction of the table Glady had insisted she take. One a mere three feet or so away from his own.

She lowered the hefty backpack onto the floor next to one of the table’s legs and then settled herself, cameras and all, into the chair facing the fireplace. Facing him.

If only he’d chosen to sit where Clive Wagner had been sitting instead. Then the pretty newcomer wouldn’t be right in the line of his far-too-curious vision. Gage watched as she pulled her cell phone from her coat pocket and began tapping at the screen as if searching for something.

Gage glanced away, not wanting to be caught staring.

A moment later, she placed a call. His gaze did a slow, casual sweep of the room, trying to look at anything but the woman seated in his direct line of vision.

Even that hadn’t kept him from noticing that her focus had been on the lace tablecloth before her, a slight frown pulling at the perfect contour of her full lips.

“Hi, it’s Aurora,” she began with a worried frown and then went on to tell whoever was on the other end of the call that she had missed her flight and would let them know once she had booked another flight home.

Wanting to give her a little more privacy, Gage shifted his chair slightly and then extended his flattened hands toward the heat rising from the flames inside the fireplace.

Out of sight was not out of mind, or, in this case, out of hearing.

As Glady had pointed out, voices carried in the near-empty diner, and the woman’s conversation didn’t have to travel far to reach his ears.

She told someone by the name of Emmy that she had gotten caught in a mudslide during her tour and that was how she’d ended up missing her flight back to Seattle.

She stressed to the other woman that she was uninjured and would call her once she had flight info to give her.

The call ended with the beautiful, bedraggled traveler telling Emmy not to worry, she hadn’t hugged a single moose.

Hugged a moose? It took everything in Gage not to look her way.

“Here you go,” Glady said as she emerged from the diner’s kitchen. She made a beeline to the woman’s table, steaming cup of hot water centered on a saucer in hand.

“Oh, thank you,” the woman said as Glady placed the teacup and saucer down onto the table in front of her. Reaching out, she began sifting through the basket of flavored tea bags until she found one to her liking.

“If there’s anything else I can get you, you just let me know,” the older woman offered.

“This tea is exactly what I needed to help chase the chill away while I try to reach the airline,” she replied. “I should have been boarding my flight back to Seattle as we speak, but I was unexpectedly delayed by a mudslide during a tour I booked and missed my flight.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that,” Glady empathized as she moved about the room, wiping empty tables with a damp rag.

“Even if your visit here hasn’t gone quite as you had planned it to, we’re—and I’m speaking on behalf of the town —more than happy to have you here with us a little longer.

Welcome to Juneau, Alaska. I’m Glady, owner of this lovely little establishment. ”

“It’s so very nice to meet you, Glady,” the woman answered with an easy smile. “I’m Aurora. Aurora Daniels.”

Appropriately named, Gage already decided. Just like the aurora borealis drew one’s gaze to its beauty, so did this young woman’s naturally pretty face. Gage winced inwardly. When had he begun to think so poetically? That was more his brother Reed’s thing.

Gage wrangled his errant gaze back to the coffee cup that sat on the vinyl lace tablecloth before him. Focus on your own problems , he mentally scolded himself. The woman was in a safe, dry place, and her missed flight could be rebooked.

“A mudslide’s not the best way to end a tour,” he heard the always-friendly diner owner say.

“No, it’s not,” Aurora replied and then went on to explain, “I was on a private tour with?—”

“Duck, Duck, Goose Tours,” Glady finished for her.

Aurora looked her way in surprise. “How did you know?”

The older woman laughed softly. “The poncho you wore in was a dead giveaway. Especially with Duck, Duck, Goose Tours printed in bold, black letters on the back of it.”

“Of course.” Aurora giggled softly. “That would make it pretty obvious. I slipped in the mud while coming down the hillside and tore my poncho. The tour operator was kind enough to give me one of the company’s.”

“Oh dear,” Glady gasped, a look of concern crossing her face.

Gage couldn’t help himself. He looked in the women’s direction, zeroing in on the pretty newcomer. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

She met his worried gaze and shook her head. “No. Thankfully, all of my limbs are still intact.”

“That’s good,” he replied, relief sweeping through him.

“Why on earth did Billy have you out traipsing about rain-slicked hillsides?” Glady asked, clearly disapproving.

“I knew there was a possibility of rain today,” the woman answered honestly.

“But that wasn’t going to keep me from doing what I’d come to Juneau for.

So getting caught in the rain was all my fault.

Not his,” she added in the older man’s defense, something Gage admired.

Some travelers in her predicament might have tried to throw the local tour operator under the proverbial tour bus.

“Rain comes and goes in September,” he said.

“Mostly comes,” Glady chimed in with a nod as she straightened her ruffle-trimmed apron.

“I hope you were able to enjoy at least some of your Duck, Duck, Goose tour, despite all the unplanned excitement you’ve had today.”

“I did,” she replied. “Billy took me around to some of Juneau’s off-the-beaten-path prime fishing streams.”

“All this beauty to see,” Glady said with a sweep of her arm, “and that old man takes you to fishing spots?”

Aurora laughed softly. “I hired him to take me to those places so I could get pictures. It was a great day, despite the rain, an untimely mudslide, and a missed flight.”

This time it was Gage letting out a chuckle. “I’d sure like to know what you consider a bad day.”

“Cup half full,” she replied with a pretty smile.

Glady groaned in empathetic commiseration. “I bet Billy felt just awful about you missing your flight.”