Page 8 of Under the Northern Lights

“They’re not for me,” he was quick to clarify, drawing both Aurora and the cashier’s gaze his way. “Not that I’m averse to boxers. I’m just not a cutesy boxer kind of guy.” The more he said, the higher the color climbed up his cheeks.

Aurora laughed. “They’re for me. I’m buying them for the socks.”

“The socks are great,” Sheila said, turning back to Aurora. “I bought two different sets of these for myself. One like yours, and the other has little black bear cubs all over them. The socks will definitely keep your feet warm.”

Aurora smiled. “That’s good to know.”

“Will you be staying in Juneau long?”

“It depends on when I can catch a flight out,” Aurora told her. “The more I see of Juneau, the longer I want to stay here.”

“Understandable.” Sheila placed the folded stack of clothes into a plastic bag with the store’s name on it. Then she slid the bag across the counter to Aurora. “That’ll be sixty-three dollars and ninety-five cents.”

After Aurora made her purchase, Gage reached for the bag. “Sheila, do you mind if she uses the restroom to change out of her wet clothes and into some of the clothes she bought here?”

“No, not at all,” she replied and then pointed to the rear left side of the store. “It’s right back there.”

“Thank you,” Aurora said.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Gage said.

“I won’t be long,” she promised with a grateful smile.

Aurora changed as quickly as she could. The sweatpants were too long and had to be rolled up, but that was the story of her life. When you were somewhat vertically challenged, pants usually had to be rolled or altered. Today, it was rolled.

When she stepped out onto the covered entrance area where Gage waited, Aurora’s gaze lifted to the lightening sky just beyond the roof’s overhang. “You were right.”

“About?” Gage asked.

“We shopped long enough for the rain to end.”

He grinned. “When you fly as often as I do, you get to know the weather patterns.”

“Afternoon, Gage,” an elderly man greeted as he and his dog, a beautiful light-haired golden retriever on a bright yellow leash, came toward them up the sidewalk.

“Out for your daily walk, I see,” Gage replied.

The older man stopped, giving Gage a chance to give the dog a quick scruff behind the neck. “My Bailey girl here is determined to keep me young,” the man said as the dog ate up the attention Gage was giving her.

“She’s doing a fine job of it,” Gage said.

“Looks like you found someone to help keep you young too.”

Aurora returned his kind smile. “Only for a day,” she said. “I’ll have a flight to catch tomorrow if everything works out.”

“Aurora Daniels,” Gage said, “this is Mr. Wilson and his faithful companion, Bailey. They live in the apartment above the diner.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said. “You must have the best view of the water and the ships coming in and out.”

“We do,” Mr. Wilson replied.

Aurora knelt next to the dog. “Aren’t you pretty?” Like Gage, she scratched the dog behind its soft, floppy ears. The dog tipped its head into her outstretched hand in a show of both acceptance and affection.

“Pity she’s got to leave,” the older man said and then, leaning in toward Gage, added, “she’s a breath of sunshine on a dismal fall day. Bailey here agrees. Don’t you, girl?”

As if on cue, the dog straightened and gave two short barks and then sat there, looking as if she were smiling up at Aurora.

Aurora laughed softly. “Thank you both. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Then you’re spending time with the wrong ‘anyones,’” Mr. Wilson said with a wink aimed in Gage’s direction. “Okay, Bailey, time for us to move on. These two have places to be, and so do we.”

“See you next time, girl,” Gage said, reaching out to give the tail-wagging pup one last ear-scratching. Then he straightened and nodded to her owner, who nodded back as he gathered up his sweet dog’s leash and started off down the sidewalk.

Aurora watched as they moved away in the opposite direction she and Gage were going to be heading.

“He’s right, you know,” Gage said.

She looked his way.

“About your spending time around the wrong people if a seventy-two-year-old man and his dog managed to give you the sweetest compliment you’ve ever received.”

Her head snapped back around. “He’s seventy-two?”

Gage nodded with a smile. “Doesn’t look a day over sixty. He lost his wife about five or six years ago. Sold his house and moved into the apartment above the diner.”

“How heartbreaking. I’m sure being around so many people helps to keep his loneliness at bay,” Aurora said with a nod.

“Mom thinks Glady is sweet on Mr. Wilson and that he might feel the same way, but neither of them has ever done anything about it.”

“Maybe someday,” Aurora said hopefully.

Gage nodded. “Maybe so.”

Turning, they started back in the direction of the docks.

Aurora’s focus shifted to the man walking beside her.

Gage Weston was tall, an inch or two over six feet if she had to make a guess.

He definitely towered over her own five-feet-two-inch stature.

He was lean with broad shoulders and muscular arms, which she’d not missed in the restaurant when he’d helped her with her backpack.

What she had really picked up about Gage during their brief time spent together was that he was thoughtful and kind.

And, to make him even more likable, he had a soft spot for dogs. She had always loved dogs.

Aurora risked a glance Gage’s way only to be on the receiving end of one of his disarming grins.

Her heart gave a little flutter. She had to believe his smile had that kind of effect on most women he crossed paths with.

It was one she longed to capture with her camera.

And people were rarely the subject of her photographs.

Her passion was capturing nature. But Gage, in his open khaki jacket, flannel shirt, and slightly faded denim jeans, especially if he were out in the woods, could very well tempt her to capture him in the wild.