Kisses in the Rain

by Pamela Browning

"An attractive woman like you shouldn't have any trouble," he said lightly, looking up at the mountains across the water.

  Momentarily discouraged, Martha plunged on. "I put in long hours at the Bagel Barn," she said. "I guess you must know what it's like to work long hours, too."

  He opened one eye at her, then opened the other. "I do. And I guess I'd better get back to my office. Let me know if you want to order any of that salmon. You might like sablefish on your bagels, too. I'll bring you some and let you try it. I could drop it off at the Bagel Barn today after I leave work." He pulled in his feet, stretched and stood up.

  She smiled her most engaging smile. "That would be fine. We could go somewhere and have a drink together afterward if you like," she said, as naturally as she could manage.

  Her heart plunged to her toes when Nick looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  "I can't tonight," he said, his expression clouding. He had to be there for Davey's birthday party. He owed it to Davey. And he owed it to his brothers and their wives and children, all of whom were making a special effort to make the long boat ride from town to the cabin at night so that they could all be together as a family.

  Martha knew that she didn't dare let Nick see how disappointed she was. Or how humiliated.

  "I understand," she said evenly.

  "Maybe some other time."

  "Sure," she said. She forced a smile. "Thanks for the salmon."

  "I'll drop the sablefish off at the Bagel Barn later," he assured her. She was magnificently controlled, but he saw the hurt in her eyes. He wished he could have taken her up on her invitation, but tonight it was impossible. He couldn't tell her about Davey. To do that might raise more questions than he was prepared to answer. He was well aware that the boy's presence in his life was a mystery that half of Ketchikan longed to solve. Embarrassed, he scuffed at a leaf that had blown against the toe of his boot. Then he wheeled and headed toward Novak and Sons.

  Martha couldn't eat the rest of her bagel. She didn't know what had upset her more—making a fool of herself or being turned down.

  When Nick showed up at the Bagel Barn later to give her the sample of sablefish, Randy told him that Martha had already left for the day. Nick took off down the dock before Randy could suggest that he leave the fish with him. Nick didn't want to leave the fish with anyone but Martha. He had counted on her being there, and now that she wasn't, he was angry with himself for thinking she would be. After all, he'd turned down her offer to have a drink with him. Nice as she was, she'd probably found someone else who could be more accommodating.

  Nick unlashed the Tabor from her mooring and headed for home, feeling oddly deflated. He pictured Martha's bright eyes and smiling face in his head, and he wished he was sitting across from her, nursing a drink and asking her to go to dinner with him afterward. Now that might never happen, and it was all his fault. All his fault, and nothing he could do about it, and that made him feel rotten. Even a spectacular sunset that turned the waters of Mooseleg Bay to molten gold failed to raise his spirits.

  Chapter 4

  Whatever there was to do in Ketchikan, she hadn't found it yet. That was Martha's discouraged reflection four days after Nick turned down her invitation.

  She wasn't used to not knowing anyone. In Kokomo she'd been a part of the elaborate social rituals that exist among people who know each other. She waved to the traffic cop at the schoolchildren's street crossing every morning on her way to work, and he waved back. She was greeted and bidden farewell by her co-workers at the boutique every day. Martha had never realized before how those automatic little courtesies made her feel connected to people.

  Here there was none of that, and she felt adrift without it. That was in addition to her loneliness and lack of anyone to talk to. She missed having someone to ask her if she'd had a hard day; her roommate back in Kokomo had always been available for commiseration or, more often, having fun. So had Lindsay in San Francisco.

  But in Ketchikan Martha had met no one except the few customers who returned to the Bagel Barn, and they always arrived at the busiest times. Nick Novak hadn't been back. She hadn't seen him around the dock, even though she surreptitiously kept an eye out for him every day.

  So now, four days after the Debacle of the Refused Invitation, as Martha now thought of her disappointment with Nick, Martha was struggling with the apartment's difficult electric can opener trying to open a can of soup for dinner when the doorbell rang. She peeked out the window to see a wiry, rugged-looking woman standing there with a steaming pot held in both hands. Of course, Martha opened the door.

  "Hi," said the woman, marching in full speed ahead and setting the hot pot on Martha's stove. She turned around to face the disconcerted Martha.

  "I'm Faye Murphy. I live in the apartment in back of this one. Sorry I wasn't here to welcome you when you got to Ketchikan, but I was out in the bush working. More about that later. What's your name?"

  "Martha. Martha Rose," Martha said. The woman appeared to be in her late fifties, and she wore a black eye-patch.

  "No, I'm not a pirate, dear. I got clawed by a lynx over on Chichagof Island a long time ago. I like the drama of black, don't you? I figure this patch gives me a reckless air. Have you had dinner yet? I brought you chicken soup."

  Martha wouldn't have cared whether Faye had brought a pot of glue, she was so happy to see a friendly face. And chicken soup was the best medicine Martha could imagine, even though she wasn't sick. Chicken soup reminded Martha of her mother.

  "Thanks," she said, beaming at Faye. She lifted the lid. "It doesn't look as though it needs heating."

  "I shouldn't think so. It's been simmering all afternoon. Do you have some bowls? I hope you don't mind my inviting myself for dinner, but I just got back from a week in the wilderness, and I needed to see a friendly face."

  Martha filled big stoneware soup bowls with steaming hot soup, and Faye produced a box of crackers from the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. They sat down at Martha's little table.

  "So tell me about yourself, dear," Faye said briskly. "What brings you to Ketchikan? The men?"

  "Men?" Whoever this Faye Murphy was, Martha decided, she was definitely unconventional.

  "Ten men to every woman in Alaska. Surely you knew that."

  "Well, um, I'd heard about it. But no, that wasn't a factor in my decision. What brought me to Ketchikan was purely business." And she went on to tell Faye about Sidney and the Bagel Barns and how she would eventually share in the profits.

  "Sounds good to me," Faye told her. "Most of the women we get—well, they're thinking about the lonely guys who come here to fish for a living or work at the cannery or the lumber mill. They—the men, I mean—come to make a killing financially. They can work for a high salary at the mill or the cannery for a few months, live cheaply and sock it all away and go back to Seattle or Vancouver to loaf for the rest of the year. That's not for me. I like to keep busy all the time."

  "What do you do?" asked Martha.

  "I'm a nurse, dear. Came up here in the eighties looking for adventure, and I found it, all right. I accompany Dr. Andy Sharf when he flies out to take care of people who live too far from town to see a doctor. Would you like to hear about the lynx attack?"

  Martha nodded. She'd wanted to ask but thought it might be a topic Faye would prefer to avoid. By this time, however, Martha had an idea that Faye didn't avoid any topic.

  "We made an emergency landing in Dr. Andy's plane on Chichagof Island—this was back in the 1990s, I've forgotten exactly when. There was an old hunter's shack still standing, so Dr. Andy and I prepared to spend the night. We'd emergency-landed before a couple of times when we had engine trouble, and we figured somebody'd find us by morning. So Dr. Andy says, 'Faye, go get some of that dry grass outside so I can start a fire in the fireplace.' There was plenty of wood stacked up inside, but there wasn't any tinder. So I stepped outside and walked smack into a mother lynx protecting her young. I screamed and ran inside, but not before she
slapped me with her paw. I managed to slam the door on her whiskers, but by that time my eye was a goner. Glad I have one left, though."

  Martha was shaken by Faye's story and the matter-of-fact way in which it was told.

  "Oh, you don't need to worry," Faye assured her. "You won't run into a lynx in Ketchikan unless you go outside the town. Anyway, bears are much more common."

  "Bears? I've always been afraid of bears. I didn't even want a teddy bear when I was a kid!"

  "Stay inside town and you'll seldom see a bear. A live one, anyway. There might be a few teddy bears wandering around."

  "Good grief!" muttered Martha, whose irrational dislike of bears was real and based on having been frightened by them as a child when she visited the zoo. To hide her agitation, she got up and brought out the chocolate-chip cookies she'd brought from San Francisco.

  "My, these are good," exclaimed Faye as she nibbled at the last one.

  "Can you recommend a place where I can buy fresh-baked cookies?" Martha asked anxiously as she watched the cookie disappear into Faye's mouth. "I think I've developed a full-blown addiction."

  "Sorry, but I don't know of any local bakery that bakes cookies as good as these. I have a recipe for chocolate-chip cookies, though. It's a good one; it was my mother's. I'm not much good at cooking or baking, I'm sorry to say. Still, if you'd like it, I'll make a copy of the recipe for you when you decide you need a quick fix."

  Martha laughed. "That'll be tomorrow. I haven't gone a day without chocolate-chip cookies since I arrived in San Francisco."

  "Do you miss it? San Francisco, I mean?"

  "I miss my friend Lindsay. You're the first person I've met socially since I've been here."

  "We'll have to remedy that. I know lots of people. I'm single and I love to have fun. Maybe I should throw a party to introduce you around."

  "Why, that would be nice." Martha was touched that Faye would do that for her.

  "How about next weekend? After I get back from heaven-knows-where? Dr. Andy and I will be leaving Tuesday, flying back in on Friday. How about Saturday night? You could meet some of my married and single pals."

  "I'd love it," Martha said warmly. She could have hugged this little woman; it was clear that the two of them were going to be friends.

  Faye rose to leave. "You keep the rest of the soup and crackers," she said. "I'll bring the chocolate-chip cookie recipe over before I leave town, and maybe you could make some for the party."

  "I'd be glad to bake cookies," said Martha in relief. She hadn't known what to offer. Chocolate-chip cookies sounded easy enough, and baking them would give her something to fill the time.

  Faye made a quick mental checklist. "We'll cook salmon steaks on the grill. We'll set up tables outside on the porch. Paper plates and plastic forks, if you don't mind. This isn't going to be one of those grand affairs where there's so much silver on the table that you could perform an operation—preferably a lobotomy—on a too-boring dinner partner. No, I like people to mingle."

  "What if it rains?"

  Faye raised her eyebrows. Her eye patch tilted rakishly. "Rain never stops anything in Ketchikan. My porch has a wide overhang. Oh, it'll be fun."

  Of that, Martha suddenly had no doubt.

  * * *

  Martha saw Nick Novak leaning against a post after the party on the porch had been in full swing for about an hour. He had a certain way of leaning against things, a relaxed spine and an alert incline of his head, that made his figure unmistakable.

  "I'd like you to meet someone," Faye said, appearing suddenly and propelling her forward. Martha's mouth became the Sahara Desert. She wiped her hands against her slacks. She should have guessed he'd be here. Faye had said she knew every eligible male in Ketchikan.

  "This is Nick Novak, Martha," Faye said. "He—"

  Martha was so nervous at seeing him again that she interrupted Faye without realizing that she was doing it until it was too late.

  "We've met," she said.

  Nothing about his expression changed. No grin, no twitch of eyebrow or widening of eyes, so that Martha was afraid that Nick Novak wasn't going to acknowledge her at all. But then he smiled and slowly extended his hand, and his fingers curved around hers.

  If she hadn't known better, Martha would have thought he was wired for electricity. She felt a definite tingle at his touch. Nothing like it had ever happened to her before; maybe it had something to do with the dampness of her hand and the fact that Alaska was close to magnetic north. Or maybe, if she was to believe in love songs, it had something to do with the way his eyes lit up along with his smile.

  "Are you serving your bagels with Alaskan salmon yet?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  "I'm afraid not," Martha said. Usually a party brought out the wit and sparkle in her, but none of that wit and sparkle surfaced now when she really needed it. She couldn't think of anything to say.

  "You liked the salmon, though, didn't you?"

  "Oh, yes," she said. And you, she wanted to add. Among the thoughts reeling through her head was the important realization that Nick had known that this party was being given in her honor. He must have wanted to come, then. Immediately a hope that she had thought long dead, the hope that Nick Novak might find her interesting, resurrected itself. How could the flare of attraction, which was so obvious to her, go unnoticed by Nick?

  Nick studied her for a moment, taking no pains to conceal his thorough inspection. Tonight Martha was dressed more casually than he'd ever seen her. She wasn't wearing a dress, for one thing, but a sweater with an angora swan on the front and a pair of gray wool pants that did a lot for her legs. Nick Novak liked to see women in slacks. In his opinion, dresses did little for most women. They exposed the veins in their legs and other imperfections, while slacks or blue jeans showed off the curves of hips and thighs. There was certainly nothing wrong with those parts of Martha Rose's anatomy.

  While Nick was taking his time looking her over, conversation escaped Martha. But Faye, pleased that her guest of honor was getting along so swimmingly with the other guests, bustled off. This left Martha alone with Nick, which might have been a pleasant situation if her knees hadn't suddenly turned to spaghetti.

  "I haven't seen you around the docks lately," she said, and then she wished she hadn't said it. It made her sound as though she'd been looking for him. She had, but it wasn't necessary for him to know that.

  "I've had business out of town," he said, slowly and soberly. "I hadn't expected to go just now, but—" He let the sentence hang in midair.

  "I guess your business takes you away from Ketchikan often?" she asked.

  "It wasn't that kind of business," he said with unexpected gruffness, which left her confused.

  "Oh," she said, and with that simple syllable the conversation ground creakingly into neutral. Martha was wondering how she could possibly shift gears when Faye jumped up on a chair and banged on an aluminum pie plate before calling, "All right, everybody. The food's ready. Nick, why don't you show our guest of honor the ropes? Dr. Andy, bring that platter of salmon over here. That's right, set it on the buffet table. Now, you all must try the chocolate-chip cookies. They're my mother's own recipe, but Martha has improved upon it."

  "Looks like we're dinner partners," Nick said, smiling down at her. The grin surprised Martha. He had looked so serious only a moment ago.

  Nick had evidently been to one of Faye's cookouts before. He showed her how there were two lines to the buffet table. The portable picnic tables were covered with plaid cloths. Faye had lit a string of colored lights that were suspended from the porch rafters. A light rain curtained the party from passing cars on the street, and smoke from Dr. Andy's charcoal grill spiraled away at the back of the house. Guests were dressed warmly in jeans and light wool coats, and everyone wore waterproof boots except Martha.

  "You need to buy yourself a pair of Southeastern sandals," Nick said, holding out one of his red rubber boots for her inspection. They reached three-quarters
of the way to his knee.

  "Is that what you call those? I've noticed lots of people wearing them."

  "Unless you happen to have webbed feet, they're a good idea. You can wear them anywhere in Ketchikan, even to weddings." Martha smiled at this and was unnerved when Nick seemed to be serious.

  Back in Kokomo—but she wasn't in Kokomo anymore. She was in Ketchikan, Alaska, where people wore red rubber boots to weddings. The people she was with wore plaid lumberjack shirts; her own high-fashion hand-knit sweater seemed out of place. Her hair curled annoyingly around her face, but somehow she didn't mind. The important thing was that Nick Novak stood beside her, and that in itself seemed peculiar. Always before, the important thing had been how she looked and the impression her appearance made on others.

  When they had filled their plates, Martha sat self-consciously across from Nick at a corner table. Next to them sat Nick's brother Dan and his wife, Stella. Stella was bright and pleasant company, and Dan was stolid and calm. Nick's oldest brother Fred and his wife, Andrea, stopped by to say hello, but moved on to a less crowded table.

  "Nick," Stella said, "when you get a chance, stop by our house to pick up some toys that my kids have outgrown. They'd be just about right for Davey."

  "Thanks, Stella. I'll come over soon."

  "This Nick," Stella said playfully to Martha. "He's always saying that. But we don't see him very often. Him or Davey."

  Martha, listening to this familial exchange, wanted to ask who Davey was. But there was no chance, because Faye, who clearly enjoyed being a hostess, stopped by the table.

  "Anything you want to know about Ketchikan's social life," she said teasingly, "you just ask Nick Novak."

  Martha could have sworn that Nick actually blushed, but here in the corner, where two strands of multicolored lights blended their colors so brilliantly, it was hard to tell.

  "I don't know that much about the social life," he objected, but Faye fluttered away to laugh at a joke told by another of her friends. Martha wondered how much of Nick's protest was real and how much was due to self-consciousness.