Seduced by Snowfall

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Still warming up. I’ll get there.”

  “Wanted to give you an update about your girl.”

  For a wild moment, he thought the chief meant Bethany. “We broke—oh, you mean S.G.”

  “Yes, Spruce Grouse. Maya finally found a place for her to stay. One of the high school teachers will take her in while the investigation is ongoing. She has a few other foster kids—”

  “Denaina, I know her.”

  “Right, Denaina. She’s used to challenging kids, and S.G. took to her right away. We also informed the state and they’re going to send someone down as soon as they can.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah.” Darius gave him a curious look. “She’s been asking where you’ve been.”

  Crap. Since that fight with Bethany a week ago, he’d been walking around like a zombie and totally dropped the ball with S.G. He knew Darius and Maya would handle everything correctly, but to S.G., they were practically strangers.

  “Yeah. When’s she leaving?”

  “Another week or so. Denaina doesn’t have a space set up for her yet, so she’ll stay at the firehouse until then.”

  “Good. I’ll take her out for some burgers. Her favorite is a cheeseburger with a side of another cheeseburger.”

  Darius laughed—not something Nate saw a lot from his stern supervisor—and skated backwards.

  “Pretty good skater for a guy from Texas,” Nate teased. “Did you learn on roller skates?”

  His boss’ smile vanished. “I learned on the mean streets of El Paso running from knife-wielding drug lords. What’s it to you, country boy?”

  Oh ho. Cue the trash-talking. And the sweating and the body-checking and the teeth-gnashing.

  The exhilaration of hockey took over, and somehow the sheer physicality of it broke apart something inside him. That numb, zombie-like feeling disappeared and it hit him. Really hit him.

  Never again would he snuggle with Bethany by the fireplace. Never again would he tease her until those downturned lips curved into a smile. Never again would he lick her into a screaming orgasm. There would be no Bethany to make everything in his life better.

  Unless he did something about it.

  He left practice early and dialed her number while he was stripping down for a shower. “Bethany, I have to talk to you. Where are you?”

  “You’ve reached the cell phone of Dr. Bethany—”

  Damn it. He ended the call with his thumb, then jumped into the shower. Now that he’d decided what to say to her, he didn’t want to wait another goddamn minute. He wanted to tell her that this was stupid, this “breakup” that wasn’t even really a breakup. Neither of them had said the word “breakup,” so how could it even qualify as one?

  He could fix this. They just needed to talk.

  He finally tracked Bethany down at the Olde Salt Saloon with Gretel. The two sisters looked up as he approached. He sketched a smile in Gretel’s direction, but all he could see was Bethany. Lovely Bethany with her wide eyes and moonlight hair.

  “Bethany, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” She gestured at Gretel, who nodded solemnly. Had she dyed her hair burgundy or did it just look that way in the light of the ship lanterns?

  “It won’t take long. Please, it’s important.”

  After a nod from Gretel, Bethany got to her feet. She wore a black knit hoodie sweater that made her hair gleam like gold.

  “Let’s go outside, too many curious ears in this place,” he murmured. She pulled on her parka and followed him outside to the boardwalk. A few lazy snowflakes drifted through the glow of light from the Olde Salt’s windows. He smelled more snowfall in the air, and a touch of wood smoke from someone’s fire.

  Bethany pulled up the fur-lined hood of her parka and tucked her hands in her pockets. “So what’s up, Nate?”

  Her tone was polite but distant, her gaze level and serious.

  “I’ve decided that it’s silly for us to be…whatever this is.”

  She blinked. “Whatever what is?”

  “This. Being apart. Not spending time together. Broken up, I guess you could say.”

  “Broken up from what?”

  A reasonable question, he had to admit. “From whatever it was before.”

  She tilted her head, as if trying to sort out his words. He wasn’t being especially articulate, he knew.

  “So…whatever it was before, you want it to keep going.”

  “Yes.” Pleased, he smiled at her. She got it. Of course she got it. Things were too good between them to just kick to the curb. “Exactly.”

  A gust of wind pushed her hood back and found a long strand of hair to play with. She pulled the hood back into place and pulled the drawstring tight. “No.”

  “What?” She must have misunderstood what he was saying. It certainly deserved more than a one-word answer.

  “No. I’m not interested in going back to ‘whatever it was.’ The answer is no.”

  She looked out over the harbor, at the fishing boats rising and falling with the swells. He remembered what Abby had told him about the job on the east coast.

  “Because you might take another job? That’s okay. I can work with that. You know me, I like to travel.”

  Her startled gaze returned to meet his. “You heard about that? Wow, you really do have your finger on the pulse here. But no, it’s not that.”

  “It’s me, isn’t it? You think I’m still struggling with…Sabrina.” It was hard to say Sabrina’s name; he could admit that. “I’ve been thinking about the things you said, and maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to…be different.”

  A snowflake landed on an eyelash and she blinked it away. “Oh Nate. I don’t want you to be different. You’re a great guy, a wonderful person. You’re kind, you’re dedicated, you’re funny, you’re caring, you’re amazing, really.”

  But. He could hear the “but” before it even came.

  “But you were right all along.”

  Nate’s eyebrows lifted, as if she’d surprised him. This was so hard, much harder than she’d expected. Her heart literally hurt, but if she didn’t do this now, it would hurt even more later. She’d be selling herself short, and she couldn’t do that anymore. Since Gretel had asked her that question—“what do you want in your life?”—she’d been thinking nonstop about the answer.

  “What was I right about?” he asked.

  “I’m a serious person. I’m not cut out for casual. I’m a round peg that can’t make myself fit into a square hole.”

  “Am I the square hole in this scenario?”

  She managed a smile with one corner of her mouth, which wasn’t bad. “You can be the round peg if you prefer.”

  “No, I’m fine with the square hole. I’m easy. Flexible. That’s my whole point. I’m open to change. Seems to me you’re tossing something overboard that’s worth hanging on to. You…matter to me.”

  His voice changed with those last words. She knew he meant it, knew he was being sincere.

  “And I love you.”

  A shiver of shock crossed his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it. An excruciating moment of silence followed, filled with the gentle lap of waves against the boardwalk and the clink of metal boat rigging.

  Just as she’d known, Nate wasn’t ready for that bombshell. But she’d said it, and there was no taking it back.

  “You—” He stopped before finishing the sentence.

  “Yes. I love you.” She forged ahead, past the lump in her throat. “But I love me more, if that makes sense. I’m done being satisfied with scraps when it comes to love. I want the whole Happy Meal.”

  Was he going to say anything else or just stand there?

  A gust of wind sent snowflakes stinging against her cheek. “I don’t want a casual relationship. I want someone who loves me and wants a future. Together.”

  Still Nate said nothing. He seemed to be frozen in place.

  “I’m n
ot out to change you. I don’t regret what happened between us. It was perfect. You’re perfect. You are who you are, and I am who I am, and we should just accept that.”

  “But…”

  She waited for more, but nothing else came. Probably because he knew she was right.

  “You’re a wonderful man, Nate. I feel things for you I’ve never felt for anyone before. But you’ve been perfectly clear about who you are, and I refuse to lie to myself about that.” She shivered as the wind picked up in intensity. “I need to get back to Gretel. She’s doing higher math, trying to figure out how to subsist on odd jobs and tips from Dark Brew.”

  “Hang on.” Finally, more than one word. Nate shoved his hands deep in his pockets, his gray eyes troubled, hair ruffled by the brisk wind. “Why can’t we just see how things go? What’s the rush?”

  “How are things going to go, Nate? How do they usually go? I can tell you. They go until they hit a wall. Then they don’t go anymore.” Brilliant analysis, but it would have to do. “We hit the wall.”

  She turned toward the Olde Salt. Any more of this conversation and she might burst into tears. Telling him she loved him, and getting no real response—that hurt so much. She was holding on to her cool by the thinnest of threads, relying on a lifetime of shielding her emotions. Now she had to get away from him before she lost it.

  “Bethany.”

  Her name spoken in his deep voice, with that undertone of pain, was too much to bear.

  “Don’t make this any harder,” she cried. “Please.”

  Turning her back on him, she hurried back to the Olde Salt, where the lights were dim and most people were drunk and her sister would understand.

  She heard him swear under his breath, but he didn’t come after her. Thank God.

  Maybe she should take that job at Mount Sinai after all. Seeing Nate around Lost Harbor, at the hospital, or the Olde Salt, or just walking down the street—exactly how was she going to handle that?

  One thing at a time. She’d done the hardest part. She’d stood up for herself. And it was a long time coming.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “What’s wrong with you?” S.G., with her usual lack of tact, went right for the jugular.

  “Nothing.” Nate jingled his keys in the doorway of the storeroom. A week had passed in a blur of work and another big snowstorm. S.G. was finally about to move to Denaina’s, and was busy packing up the clothes he’d bought her and stowing them in her backpack.

  That was a lie. Something was wrong with him. Everything was wrong. Bethany had stood there before him and told him she loved him and he’d…shut down. Frozen like an icicle. He still hadn’t snapped out of it.

  “Ready for some burgers?”

  She abandoned her project and jumped to her feet. “I’m starving. Let’s go.”

  On the drive to the Mighty Moose, which was located on a spur of land overlooking the harbor, S.G. told him about Denaina and the other foster kids who lived with her. There was a boy whose father was in prison, a girl whose mother was in rehab, and a distant cousin or two. Nate noticed that she sounded almost normal as she chatted away.

  “Denaina’s going to teach me to read and write. She says I’ll pick it up fast and that she was lots of great books to practice with. ”

  “Awesome. Hey, maybe we can be pen pals.” They reached the drive-through window of the Mighty Moose. He placed an order for five cheeseburgers and two orders of fries. That should cover them.

  “What are pen pals?” she asked when he drew his head back inside.

  “People who write letters back and forth.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “Okay.” With a curious look, she asked, “But will I still see you? Are you leaving?”

  “I’m not leaving. Anytime you want a trip to the Mighty Moose, you let me know.”

  She nodded and didn’t offer any more objections. But his heart twisted at how easily she accepted that. As if she didn’t think she mattered that much to him.

  But she did.

  “We’re still going to be friends, don’t worry,” he told her. “Consider me like an uncle. If you have any problems, or want to talk, or just need a break, I will always be there for you.”

  “Uncle?” She screwed up her face. “Maybe you can be my big brother.”

  No. He wanted to scream. I can’t be your brother. I can’t do that again.

  “Sure,” he managed. “Consider me your big brother.”

  He reached for the bag of food and handed over a couple of twenties, along with a smile for the server. Ella, a young woman in her early twenties, same age as Sabrina would have been. He knew because he’d watched that generation grow up, noted when they’d gone from middle school to high school, and so forth.

  He gave her an extra big tip.

  “Hey, thanks,” she said, surprised. “By the way, watch out for the owl when you exit.”

  “Owl?”

  “Yes, there’s a snowy owl that’s been hanging around the harbor. At first we thought he was injured, but the wildlife people checked him out and he’s fine. I guess he just likes hamburgers!” She smiled and waved them off.

  They spotted the owl perched on a low branch in a spruce tree next to the exit. The stunning feathered creature blinked at them with round golden eyes as they passed.

  “Of course she likes hamburgers,” said S.G. solemnly. “They’re delicious.”

  “She?” Nate asked softly. They both watched as the owl lifted himself—or herself—into the night air and found a current to ride.

  “She,” S.G. said firmly. “She’s young, too. Very happy.”

  “Is that so?” For once he didn’t question SG’s weird observations about the wildlife. He loved imagining the owl, young and happy, soaring through Lost Harbor.

  He dropped S.G. at the firehouse with a promise to visit her soon at her new home. Then he drove back to the harbor, hoping the owl would reappear. Owls were generally shy. They stayed in the forests, where on a quiet night you could hear the deep hollow tones of their call. Why would this owl choose to cruise around Lost Harbor like a teenager looking for some fun?

  He parked his car in the deserted lot of Seafarer’s Beach. The wind was picking up, racing across the bay. The forecast had warned of forty-mile-per-hour sustained gusts. He shouldered into it, hands deep in his pockets. At the far end of the moonlit beach, a dog pounced on some kelp while his owner watched from the shelter of the bluff.

  And Nate thought about Blitzen—something he hardly ever did.

  Soon after Sabrina died, his family had adopted a Husky mix and Nate had gotten to name him. Why Blitzen? He couldn't remember anymore. Nate had loved the unruly dog, who they’d never managed to train properly. Blitzen didn’t come when he was called and got into all sorts of trouble. Porcupines. Bear scat. Chasing cars. After about a year, Blitzen had disappeared one night when the coyotes had howled in the valley below their house.

  In all the years since then, Nate had never seriously considered getting another dog.

  Too risky. Too heartbreaking.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smudge of white. A soft moonlit figure stroked its wings above the road, heading for the harbor. There she was. The owl.

  The roadside lights lit the magnificent bird’s way, until she veered off and headed over the mudflats on the harbor side of the road. Maybe she’d spotted a vole or another tiny creature for dinner.

  Nate watched her circle high over the dark expanse of tidal flats. In the distance, lights winked from the shoreline. The wind tickled the back of his neck with icy fingers. The scent of ocean—seaweed and vast horizons—tugged at him. Come with us, the ocean seemed to say. Come with us and see wild and magical things you can’t even imagine.

  What was that legend about mermaids calling sailors to their deaths? Right now, he got it. The entire world was out there past the edge of that dark horizon.

  He thought of Blitzen, following the siren’s call of the coyotes. Was that what the dog
had heard in those howls? Adventure and wild new horizons?

  He could sail away, just like that owl. He could disappear like Blitzen.

  He could die. Like Sabrina.

  Or he could live.

  Everything went still in that moment. It felt as if the wind stopped and even the ocean froze. He held his breath.

  The owl reappeared in a slow glide. One flap of her wings and she reached the end of the beach. Another flap and she was gone. And the world moved again.

  Nate let out his breath. His heart was pounding. Wind howled in his ears and the ocean waves resumed their crashing onto the sand.

  He filled his lungs with salt air. Something had just happened, but he didn’t know exactly what. A brush with infinity. A glimpse of magic. He didn’t know, and he didn’t need to know. The only thing that mattered was what he now understood, deep in his heart.

  * * *

  Bethany was right. He had been lying to himself.

  Losing his baby sister had torn him apart inside, and he’d never understood how to put himself back together. He’d never really wanted to. Instead, he’d skated on the light side of things.

  But that wasn’t really him. The truth was, when he got attached, it went all the way to his core. He was still the same person who had loved Sabrina, and loved Blitzen, and had mourned them so deeply. He wasn’t just the lighthearted joker, or the best EMT in Lost Harbor, or everyone’s drinking buddy, or Maya’s loyal friend, or the Puffins’ goalie.

  He had a heart. This pain he was feeling, this grief, this sadness, that was his heart speaking to him.

  And now that he was listening, he knew what it was telling him. He was in love. He loved Bethany. His heart was bursting with love for her. And that terrified him.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He hauled in a deep breath, feeling as if he was breathing free for the first time in years. He loved Bethany and she hadn’t left Lost Harbor yet and he could find her and fix this and—

  The text came from a number he didn’t recognize. All it said was 9-1-1.

  It took a moment for it to click.

  The call was coming from the burner phone he’d bought for S.G. He’d programmed his number for her. Because she didn’t yet know how to write, he’d taught her the numbers 9-1-1 so she could let him know if she needed anything. She’d never called or texted him, so he’d forgotten all about it.