Page 9 of Under the Northern Lights
Gage glanced over at his pretty passenger who had barely spoken a word since takeoff minutes before.
Her wide-eyed gaze shifted between the floatplane’s front window and the one next to her.
Her camera, secured by a slender strap around her neck, was held in both hands, ready for that perfect shot.
Aurora’s distraction as she captured pictures of the passing landscape gave him the opportunity to really study her.
She had removed the bright yellow duck poncho when they’d boarded the floatplane and had draped it over the seat behind her.
Then, after taking a moment to fluff out her shoulder-length, wavy hair, she’d slipped on a fawn-colored knit hat that she’d pulled from one of the outer pockets on her backpack.
Gage had never been so aware of a woman’s hair before.
The setting sun’s golden glow coming in through the windows touched on the still-dry strands that had been protected from the falling rain by her poncho’s hood.
They weren’t the dark brown he’d first thought her hair to be.
It was lighter with honey-colored strands mixing in with the slightly darker hue.
“I can’t take my eyes off this incredible view,” Aurora said in awe as she brought her camera up for another shot.
He knew the feeling. Only it wasn’t Alaska that had captured his attention during that flight to Conley Island.
The floatplane dipped, eliciting a startled gasp from Aurora.
“Nothing to worry about. Just an air pocket,” he calmly explained in an effort to soothe her concern.
“I know,” she replied with a nod. “I gasped because I missed a really great shot of a mountain goat I saw standing on an outcropping.”
He chuckled. Of course she wasn’t scared by a little midair dip. She’d already survived an unexpected slide down a muddied hillside and then had narrowly missed being swept up in a mudslide.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she replied, her gaze remaining fixed on the world outside.
“You’ll have another opportunity to get some good shots tomorrow when we head back to Juneau.”
“As long as the weather cooperates.”
“It will,” he said assuredly.
She looked his way with a smile that had his stomach flipping.
Not in the “I’m not feeling so good” kind of way, but in a way he hadn’t felt for a very long time.
If ever. Not even with his almost fiancée.
It was a sensation he wasn’t prepared for, especially since this unexpected stirring was caused by a woman he knew nothing about.
Gage had learned the hard way, two years earlier, that his emotions couldn’t always be trusted to guide him in the right direction.
Because when it came to Jess, his ex-girlfriend and almost fiancée, his heart had definitely led him astray.
Thankfully, Aurora Daniels, with her pretty smile and passion for all things nature-related, would be flying back to Seattle soon.
She was definitely a distraction he didn’t need.
Not right now. His focus needed to be fixed solely on turning things around for his family’s business.
“I forgot,” she said. “You’re not only a pilot and a businessman, you’re a weather forecaster as well. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Hula hoop.”
Her perfectly shaped brows sprang upward, making it clear that his answer had taken her completely by surprise.
Gage chuckled. “I kid you not. My sister spent hours when we were growing up perfecting the art of keeping that thing going around and around. Every time my brother Reed and I tried to master that particular skill, the hoop would drop to the ground like it was coated in oil and filled with cement.”
She laughed, a soft, lilting sound. “I would have so loved to have been there to see that.”
“Be thankful you never had the opportunity,” he told her with a grin. “I promise you it wasn’t a pretty sight. Reed and I looked like a couple of marionettes whose strings had broken where they should have been attached to our hips.”
“Oh, the image that stirs in my mind,” she replied.
His gaze returned to the expanse of water they were flying over. One lined by jagged mountains covered in pines and rocky outcrops. “How about you?” he asked, determined to steer the conversation away from his hula-hooping shame.
“What about me?”
He glanced her way. “Other than a passion for taking pictures, made clear by the professional-looking camera bag you carry, what are some of the things that call out to you?”
“Adventure,” she replied without hesitation. “Traveling. A starlit sky—something that is rarely visible from the balcony of my apartment near downtown Seattle. And dogs.”
“Which you can’t have where you’re living currently?” he asked.
“No, but my sister has a dog. An Australian shepherd named Mac. So I get to fill my need for canine affection whenever I leave the city to go to Jade’s house.”
“Jade?”
“My younger sister,” she replied. “She and her husband, David, got married last February. They decided to expand their family about five months ago, adopting Mac from a nearby animal rescue. So I guess you could say I’m officially an aunt.”
He chuckled. “I guess you are. Have you always lived in Seattle?”
Lifting her camera, she snapped another picture of something that caught her eye down below. “No. I grew up in Oregon. My parents and Jade still live there. But our family sort of began in Alaska.”
“Sort of?” he asked, his interest definitely piqued.
“My parents met while working here as wildlife biologists. I grew up hearing all about Alaska’s unforgettable untamed beauty.” She looked over at him with a smile. “You know, it’s possible they visited Conley Island at some point during their time here. They worked and traveled all over Alaska.”
“Wouldn’t that be a small world,” he acknowledged, returning her smile before shifting his gaze back to the flight path ahead. “What did your parents like most about Alaska?”
It took a moment for her to answer, that brief hesitation causing Gage to glance her way.
“The Northern Lights,” she answered. “They still talk about coming back to visit someday. At one point, they considered retiring to Alaska, but then Jade got married. Mom and Dad know that grandchildren won’t be far behind their new grandfurbaby. ”
He nodded. “My mom and dad would hate the thought of being away from their grandchildren too. But they understand that Reed and Julia will end up wherever their hearts lead them to be.”
“Not yours?”
“My heart is here,” he answered, his attention returning to the familiar landscape that was part of Conley Island. “So I can understand your parents’ desire to return to Alaska.”
“I can too.” Twisting slightly, Aurora went back to admiring the view below.
Shifting his full focus to the controls in front of him, he said, “Secure your camera. We’re going to be landing.”
She did so without question. “Your family’s island is much larger than I expected it to be.”
“We don’t own the island,” he clarified as he prepared for their landing. “But we do own a good chunk of the land on this side of Conley Island.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, the words coming out as a sigh as the plane descended.
“Your timing is perfect. The fall leaves still have a brilliance to them. Another week into September and you wouldn’t be seeing this.”
“I love capturing the subtle and not-so-subtle differences found in the changing of seasons.”
“Something tells me a tree is never just a tree to you,” he said with a grin as he eased the plane down, the floats gliding smoothly across the surface of the water.
“Never,” she said as she watched the passing scenery drift by.
Gage carefully maneuvered the floatplane up alongside the dock. “And here we are.”
“You’re really good at this,” Aurora said with a sweet smile.
“Years of practice,” he told her as he cut the engine. “My dad began flying long before Reed and Julia and I came along. So I began learning at an early age.”
He pointed past her out the passenger window to the two figures moving in hurried strides toward the dock.
Reed and Hank, a longtime employee at Living the Good Life Fishing Retreat, moved to secure the floatplane to the extended dock.
Gage reached down to unfasten his seatbelt while Aurora did the same.
“The one in the red stocking cap is my brother, Reed,” he told her. “The older gentleman behind him is Hank. He’s been working here since my dad first opened the lodge.”
“You didn’t even have to point your brother out,” Aurora told him as she watched the two men work to secure the plane to the dock. “He looks just like a younger version of you, minus the incredibly perfect beard shadow.”
“He takes more time than me to shave.” As her words sank in, he looked at Aurora, dark brows lifting. “Perfect, huh?”
She glanced his way. “As if you don’t know that it’s the slightly unshaven, five o’clock shadow kind of beard that heroes have on the covers of romance novels.”
“Can’t say that I do know that. The only reading material you’ll find on the coffee table in the great room at the lodge are fishing magazines and outdoorsy books,” he replied.
Truth was, he wasn’t looking to grow a beard, but shaving every day proved to be an annoyance.
So he’d shave and then wait a few days to do so again.
He had more important things to do than stand in front of the bathroom mirror every morning, working at a clean-shaven face.
Perfect, huh? Maybe he’d wait until after he’d taken Aurora back to Juneau to rid himself of his apparently book-cover-worthy whiskers.
The door next to Gage swung open, and Reed’s face appeared. “Just making sure everything’s alright,” he said. “You never take this long to leave the plane.” His gaze drifted past Gage to Aurora, and his lips lifted into a welcoming smile. “Well, hello.”
“Hello,” she replied, returning his smile.