“Sure,” Ash said. “I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll text you when I’m ready to come get you guys,” she said, and then she moved off and left him alone.
He stared after her for a moment and then sighed. No matter what, he couldn’t imagine being so attracted to someone that he would give up everything to be with them. He’d grown up hearing the stories of how shapeshifters found their mates. An alpha and omega crossed paths and if they were right for each other, that was it. They were together. No questions asked. It was supposed to be an instant connection, some powerful sort of feeling that overcame everything else. Sexuality, species, race… Nothing could stand in its way.
As far as he was concerned, that was bullshit. He could turn into a wolf, sure, but there was science behind it. It might not be science he understood, but…
All thoughts were driven out of his mind as he reached the edge of the road. The two-lane street continued on down a steep slope before him, but he lurched backwards away from the winding edge at the sight of what lay before him.
Boats.
Many, many vessels of all shapes and sizes crowded the docks with brightly-colored bodies and jumbled cord. Every color of the rainbow was present, the sides of the ships practically scraping together they all had to be so close. People who looked like ants from this distance milled around on the docks, working and carrying crates, and climbing sails. Intelligible voices rang out as they called to each other. Here and there, children played. The skies were full of gulls that screamed and cried out as they wheeled overhead, occasionally diving in to pluck fish from the water or a cookie from unsuspecting small hands; the gulls were equal-opportunists that preferred scavenging, and they had quite clearly grown brave and crafty with so much exposure to humans.
Between the street where Ash stood and the harbor, the hills fell down at a steady, steep slope. The concrete flowed like water, meandering around and interconnecting at smaller tributaries. The peaceful suburb fell away, homes being replaced gradually by shops that all catered to some aspect of fishing life. Bait shops, repair shops, bulk food supply, general merchandise… Even the banks and other places had fishing-themed names.
Maybe I should have done some more research before now, Ash thought, awed. He could smell the fish now, brine and blood intermingled with the daintier scents of herb-infused cooking and boat oil.
Casting his gaze out farther, he took in the sight of the water itself. Steam hung above the sea’s surface, which was deep blue from beginning to end. Boats bobbed through the churning waters farther out, churning up waves behind them. And for the first time in his life, Ash was witness to the beauty of ice. Sunlight refracted off the great drifting hunks of crystalline white, taking his breath away.
This wasn’t Arizona. So far, it was looking even better.
Taking a deep breath, Ash clutched at the piece of paper in his pocket and started down the slope. It was a bit of a longer walk than it seemed it would be, because of the way the road meandered with the curves of the land. At one point, he was descending a ridge that was nearly parallel with what seemed to be a bait shop. Curiosity got the better of him, and he left the road to go stand at the edge. Pebbles scattered beneath his feet as he reached out and experimentally touched the roof. It seemed sturdy enough…
Looking around, Ash didn’t really see anyone who would notice him taking a bit of a shortcut. He really should risk it, but come on, who in all of Dutch Harbor hadn’t taken this opportunity before?
Grinning softly to himself, he straightened up again and stuck out one foot to set it on the edge of the roof. The salt-stained slats bent slightly beneath the pressure, but nothing gave. Bracing himself, he pushed his full weight onto the roof and swung his other leg over.
For a moment, he stood there on top of the building, feeling the wind push and pull at his body. It had been doing that the whole time but it felt so much more reckless on top of a building. Looking out over at the harbor and the boats slicing through water, he wondered how many of those fishermen were in it for the money, the love of the job, or the thrill. He’d been on the ferry so he knew now what it was like to ride a boat, but the ferry had been broad and complacent compared to the narrow, knifelike fishing vessels.
Before too long, reality came back to bite him and he shook his head. No use thinking whimsical thoughts like that. That was what he had been told his entire life by his family and by the larger pack they used to be part of. It didn’t do for a wolf to have his head in the clouds like that. They were earthly creatures, given a special gift that they needed not to waste. Daydreaming was a waste of time that he could be using to further his life as a shapeshifter.
And right now, it was time he could be using to further other shapeshifters’ lives, as well.
Touching the list in his pocket, Ash looked back at the ridge behind him and was about to step back onto it again. However, that would also be a waste of his time after he’d already stood there so long, so he dropped down to a crouch instead; lowering himself even further onto his ass, he swung his legs out over the drop and tried to judge the distance. Fifteen feet, perhaps. Nothing for a shifter.
Grabbing the lip of the roof, he pushed himself forward and dropped down through the air. Shifting quickly in the span of a single heartbeat, it was not a clumsy human who hit the ground but a sprightly red wolf with the customary russet-and-grey markings of its species. Its paws flexed in the grass for a moment, and then it was gone just as quickly as it had come.
Who says only cats can land on their feet? Ash thought with satisfaction, pushing himself up to his feet and stepping out from between the two storefronts to get his first taste of Dutch Harbor from deep inside it.
It was just as chaotic as it looked from above, yet now he was a part of that maddening swirl of people who all shouted and threw things at each other like they were the best of friends. It was almost mind-boggling to an outsider. Ash felt a pair of eyes on him and turned, only to see someone quickly duck away.
Huh, he thought. Odd.
No sooner had he thought that than it happened again and again, and he started to realize that this place probably only saw the same people time and time again. He was an outsider and they could tell.
I guess they’ll just have to get used to me, now won’t they?
Shrugging to himself, Ash glanced down at his list again to remind himself of its contents. Basic necessities. Right. From where he was standing, he really couldn’t tell which store he should go to, but a little more walking wouldn’t hurt him. He just really hoped they had enough money to get everything they needed. The credit card his father had given him before sending him out the door felt somehow lighter than usual, or maybe that was just him imagining how much money it didn’t hold inside it.
“Excuse me.”
He turned and smiled a little at the old woman who had tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes?” he said, politely. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, my,” the old lady chuckled, her cheeks turning red from where they were hidden in the depths of her jacket’s hood. “How polite!”
Ash beamed at her. “That’s the way Mom raised me.”
She chuckled again and patted his hand. “Well then, you tell your mother for me that she did a good job. But why on earth are you outside without any warm clothes?”
“Oh.” Thinking quickly on his feet to find something to tell her other than that he was a shapeshifter with a very high tolerance for pain and temperature changes, he blurted out the truth. “My family just moved here very late last night. We’re still waiting on all of our things to come. That’s why I’m here. With some of my uncles. Buying supplies and such.”
“Hmm,” the woman purred, thinking it over for a moment. “Well, now that you mention it, I did happen to see two other fine young men just a few minutes ago that I didn’t recognize.”
“That’d be them.”
“You’re much more polite than they were, dear.”
Ash laughed, p
leased. His whole chest felt warm from the praise. “Thank you, ma’am. My name is Ash Davenport.” He held out his hand.
The old woman clasped his in both her gnarled paws. “It’s a pleasure, Ash. I’m Regina, and I own that store just there. Whimsy Wares.”
Ash turned to see where Regina was pointing, and now it was his turn to blush. She owned the store whose roof he just stood upon!
“I run it with my husband, although he’s out fishing at the moment. Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea? I’m certain I can help you find all those items you need, dear.”
There wasn’t really much of a need to weigh his options. Would he rather stumble around cold and blind, or would he rather spend his time learning about the town from a kind old woman?
“That would be great,” he said, and fell in beside her to match her shuffling gait as she headed towards her store. “My aunt is renting some golf carts to help us carry all the stuff back home when we’re ready.”
“A fine idea,” was all Regina said until they were right in front of the store. She unlocked the front door and then stepped inside, flicking a light switch that illuminated the interior by way of a single strip of powerful lights that ran through the middle of the roof.
Whimsy Wares looked like any other small non-chain grocery store, with tight shelves packed full with so many different types of goods that a mere touch in the wrong place would send whole displays crashing down. Each section was clearly labeled with a sign hanging overhead, including a few that Ash hadn’t ever seen in any other store, such as fishing supplies and bait. He glanced curiously at that corner but couldn’t really make much sense of the chains and huge boxes that he saw stacked up; it was a far cry from the fishing poles and tackle boxes that he was imagining.
“Get a cart, would you, dear? Your legs move faster than mine.”
“Of course,” Ash said, snapping back to reality. He stepped over to the small space to the left of the door and pulled out a shopping cart.
Regina rasped, “Very good. And now if you’ll give me your list, we’ll get you your supplies first and then have tea.” She scanned the piece of paper he handed to her, nodded several times, and then set off at a slightly more brisk shuffle than before. Amused at her business-like behavior, with her hands clasped together behind her back, Ash followed along.
“So…what kind of fish are around here?”
Regina paused while stacking boxes of garbage bags in his cart. “How does a family move to Dutch Harbor and not know anything about it?”
Which means this place is…important somehow, or something?
Ash didn’t answer. What could he say? It didn’t really feel okay to tell her that they bought the house because it was cheap and they desperately needed to move.
“I see,” the old woman croaked, shuffling a few steps down the aisle to grab a package of toilet paper rolls. “Well, Dutch Harbor is home to crab fishermen.”
That explained the lack of fishing poles. He didn’t really think crabs would be enticed by them. Then again, were fishing poles only a hobby thing? How did people on boats do their fishing for a living?
“How do you fish for crabs?” he asked.
Regina smiled a little. “Crab pots. Crabs can get in but they can’t get back out. Oh, but it’s very dangerous work. It’s one of the deadliest jobs in America, you know. The seas up this way are very unforgiving.”
Ash shuddered for a moment, imagining how it would feel to drown. Wolf shifters had a terrible fear of drowning, because it was said that a person’s soul couldn’t escape the waters where they drowned. There was no afterlife for them. A small flicker of something occurred to him however, and he clung to it to distract himself from the terrible thoughts of death. “Isn’t there some sort of TV show about crab fishing?”
“Bingo!” Regina said and smiled. She led him just a bit further on and plopped yet more things down in his cart. “I don’t watch much TV but my husband, he loves it. You would think that a TV crew here would be very easy to find but they’re actually being rather small and discreet. I’ve only seen a camera here fifteen times since they started filming the show all those years ago. And they only pay attention to the big vessels. Five or ten of them. The rest don’t seem to matter.”
“And you said your husband is a fisherman?”
“He wasn’t until that show came along.” Regina laughed. “Oh, but he’s much too old for real fishing. His is a hobby. Every man has to have a hobby when they get old. For most of them, it’s trains or sports. For my Brock, it’s pretending to be a fisherman.”
Ash smiled a little, liking the way she spoke about her husband. The words were slightly shaming, but they were tempered with a great deal of love and affection. He couldn’t help himself when he asked, “How did you and Brock meet?”
“Oh, that’s a story that I’m sure no young man wants to hear. How about you tell me a little of yourself?”
As they finished up with gathering all the things on Bridgett’s list, Ash talked about his family and where they had come from. Perhaps having learned not to pry too much, Regina didn’t ask many direct questions. Instead, she only made small comments that Ash was then free to reply to if he felt comfortable with it.
Twenty minutes later, he was pushing their second full cart of merchandise up to the cash register at the front of the store and was about to fetch the first one for her to scan when Regina stopped him. “Oh, you won’t be needing to do that, dear.”
He stopped. “I don’t understand.”
“Consider all of this a gift for being such a charming young man,” Regina said, patting his hand. “Come on. Let’s have that tea.”
He was torn. On the one hand, this was really a fantastic gift and it would be rude to question it. But on the other hand…
“I can’t do that. That would be cheating you out of a lot of money.”
Regina waved one hand, stepping back behind her counter to fiddle with an electric tea kettle. “Brock and I don’t need the money. We have our life savings and our benefits. This is perhaps my hobby. I run it for fun. And you, my dear Ash, have made everything a great deal more fun. I think as long as I see more of you in the future, I have no need to make you or your family pay for the basic necessities.”
He really wanted to refuse, but he knew that he would hurt her feelings. Besides, it seemed as though he had somehow made a new friend and the last thing he wanted was to lose her so soon. “Okay, Regina. You’ve got a deal.”
They shook hands, with her chuckling and him looking very serious, and then the tea was ready. Ash leaned against the counter while she poured two steaming mugs. He accepted one and was about to ask for sugar when suddenly the front door banged wide open and a lean man with sun-kissed skin barged inside.
“Regina!” he barked, and his voice was like the groaning of stressed chains. “Did you get my shipment in yet?”
“Linden,” Regina scolded. “I have a guest here. Why don’t you address him too, instead of pretending he doesn’t exist?”
The man turned to face Ash, who immediately shrank back slightly. The man’s scent flooded to him, carried in on the cold wind blowing through the open door. Linden was a shapeshifter, whoever he was. And not just any shifter, but another wolf. An alpha.
Linden narrowed his big brown eyes, staring hard at Ash. “Hello,” he said gruffly. “Haven’t seen you around here before. Now, Regina, my shipment?”
“So impatient,” Regina muttered. “Not at all like young Ash here. Very well. I think I picked up something with your name on it. Let me see…”
Taking a long, leisurely sip of her tea, the old woman put her cup down on the counter and then bent down to shuffle through packages that were tucked away beneath the inside of the counter in front of her. She seemed to be gone forever, or at least that was how it felt. Ash kept his gaze averted from the alpha, his heart pounding in his ears. Wolves didn’t look each other in the eyes until they were familiar with one another, and there was so
mething about Linden that was intimidating beyond belief.
What made him different from other wolves, Ash had no idea. He just felt nervous, like his fur was about to fall off or something.
Finally, Regina straightened up with a very long, thin box in her arms. “Here you are,” she gasped, setting it down on the counter with a huge thump. “And you know the drill?”
“Uh-huh,” Linden growled, grabbing the pen and clipboard she shoved over to him. He scrawled a barely-legible signature on two of the blank lines, slashed a date nearby, and then shoved it back while picking up the package like it was nothing.
The moment the other wolf was gone, Ash asked, “Who was that? And what was he getting?”
Regina shrugged, picking up her tea. Ash did the same. The liquid was lukewarm now and bitter without sugar, tasting not at all as pleasant as it smelled, but he didn’t want to offend his new friend. “Linden Smothers. He captains one of the smaller fishing vessels. And I don’t pretend to understand what anything he buys is. Some sort of rope, this time.”
“Huh,” Ash muttered. “Is he…from around here?”
“Oh, for the past ten years or so, yes.”
After that, the rest of their conversation fell to the side as they sipped at their tea. A few minutes later, Ash felt his phone buzz and glanced at the text. Trisha had the golf carts. She was bringing three of them and would be there in ten minutes.
Relaying the information to Regina, she nodded. “Seems like just enough time to get all this bagged up and ready, doesn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Ash said and tried to force a smile. Something about that other wolf’s presence had really shaken him up and he didn’t like it. He just wanted to go home, where he knew everyone.
They bagged up everything to make the load as bearable as possible and were pushing the full carts out onto the street just as Trisha arrived in a golf cart. Ash laughed at the sight of her, perfect hair all mussed up and cheeks gone red with the wind whipping at them.
“Hi, Ash!” she called, a little louder than necessary. “Who’s this?”
Love at Sea Page 2