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Shawn Nilsen wrestled her duffel bag from the backseat of the cab and dropped it on the ground while she hurried to zip her canvas work jacket against the cold. It had been years since she had been in Alaska and she had forgotten how cold it was in October. The wind off the harbor made her eyes water as she yanked a knit hat over her ears. She knew she would get used to the temperature in time.
With a feeling of uneasiness, she hoisted the bag and slung it over her shoulder while glancing around the pier where she stood. She had been here earlier in the day for an interview with the captain of a fishing boat. If it could even be called an interview. They’d exchanged names and the captain had told her when the boat was leaving and handed her a list of necessary supplies. Shawn had nodded and left to make sure she had everything that was required. Now she had a job to do.
She straightened her back and walked down the dock, avoiding the crews as they loaded groceries and bait onto the fishing vessels. She was going to fish king crab, which she’d never done before. And she was going to do it with people she’d never met before. Her step faltered when she saw the hull of the boat she’d be spending the next two months on; The KayLeigh.
She made her way down the eighty-two foot boat. As one of the smaller boats in the harbor, The KayLeigh would catch less crab than the larger boats, but Shawn didn’t mind. She wasn’t here to make a fortune, like most of the greenhorns who came to Alaska for the commercial fishing season. She needed to escape Seattle for a while to gain some perspective on her life and, in her mind, Alaska was as good of place as any.
Nervous yet excited by what she had agreed to do, she stepped onboard and approached the two people crouched by a crab pot. Cap, who had hired her that morning, straightened and clapped the other person on the shoulder as he spoke. “Drake, this is the new hand, Shawn. Shawn, Drake.”
The other man flipped up his welding mask, revealing he was younger than Cap, and looked her over. “Real funny, Dad,” he said and returned to repairing the metal frame of the trap.
Cap ran his hand through his gray hair. “No joke. Shawn’s our third hand for this trip.”
“That,” Drake said, jerking his shoulder toward Shawn, “Is a woman.”
Shawn flinched at his tone. She’d assumed the crew would give her grief due to her lack of experience but hadn’t even considered discrimination based on her gender.
“What’s your point?” Cap rubbed a hand over his face and appeared to be uncomfortable, but not surprised, at Drake’s response.
Drake stood, removed his welding mask and dropped it on the deck, revealing short blonde hair, damp with sweat. “Women don’t belong on boats.”
Shawn stepped forward and Drake scowled at her as she tipped her head back a few degrees to gaze up at him and say, “Excuse me?”
“Women aren’t strong enough for crabbing.” Drake shrugged like he was sharing common knowledge.
“How do you know if I’m strong enough or not? You don’t know anything about me.”
“All I need to know is you’re a woman and that’s pretty clear. Ain’t it?”
“And that means I’m not good enough to work with you?” Shawn blinked as Drake turned his back to her and moved away. She wasn’t in the mood to put up with anyone’s attitude today. Learning her fiancée had cleaned out her savings account and eloped with her best friend eight days ago had eliminated Shawn’s sense of humor.
Cap cleared his throat. “Drake doesn’t like women on the boat.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Shawn faced Cap. “This isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to cause problems with your crew. If they don’t trust me, it could get nasty out there.”
“He’ll get over it,” Cap replied before raising his voice. “What’s the deal, son?”
Drake sneered at Shawn over his shoulder from where he was coiling a line. “She is. I’m not willing to risk my life by crewing with some chick who’s worried she might break a nail.”
“I can be as tough as I need to be.” Shawn dropped her bag and propped her fists on her hips. She hadn’t thought it would be easy, but this was worse than she’d anticipated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to work with him, but she wasn’t going to take his insults without defending herself.
“This is a crab boat, girlie. You have no idea how tough you need to be,” Drake said as he faced her.
Shawn fought the urge to look to Cap for assistance. She knew Drake would consider it a sign of weakness if she expected the captain to fight her battles. She hid her sigh of relief when Cap spoke in a stern tone.
“You questioning my decision?” When Drake didn’t meet his gaze, Cap said, “Your Uncle Mike vouched for her.”
Shawn turned away, muttering, “I don’t need this.” She’d come here to work, not to fight for feminine equality. She had her own doubts whether she had the ability to do the job but assumed Cap had confidence in her since he’d hired her.
Drake laughed. “You can’t even talk to fishermen. What made you think you could work with us?”
Shawn clenched her fists and pivoted on the ball of her foot. “I can talk to fishermen. It’s just jerks like you that I have a problem communicating with. Probably because of the difference in our IQs.” She lowered her voice and leaned close enough to smell the cinnamon gum he was chewing. Even as she spoke, she knew she was overreacting, but she had no desire to rein herself in. She’d leave, but he’d know she was upset before she left.
“What would it take to change your mind concerning me? To convince you I’m tough enough? Should I recite my qualifications? Tell you I spent my last five hundred bucks to get here? Maybe you’d like to call Mike and ask him about my service record with the Coast Guard. What if I punch you? Would that prove anything?”
Drake grinned menacingly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Why not? Because I’ll lose my spot on this boat?” She shrugged. “You’ve done your best to convince me and him.” Shawn jerked her shoulder toward Cap and continued. “That I can’t do the job. If I get fired for punching you, you won’t have to deal with me and I won’t have to deal with your asinine attitude.”
“No, I don’t think you’ve got the balls to do it.” Drake smirked.
“It all comes back to that, doesn’t it? Your whole problem with me is that I don’t have balls, huh?”
Apparently confident he had proven his point, Drake nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”
“You’re wrong,” Shawn snapped and punched him in the jaw, furious he assumed he could insult her without consequence just because she wore a bra.
Drake stumbled back half a step before catching his balance. With eyes flashing, he moved toward her. “You’re lucky you’re a woman. ‘Cause otherwise I’d knock you on your ass for that.”
“Give it a shot.” Shawn stood her ground, cursing her temper. One swing from him would knock her down, if it didn’t topple her over the rail into the water that was barely above freezing. She knew he had every right to strike back, but she wasn’t going to concede defeat. She figured the only reason he’d staggered was from the shock of her hitting him. He was more than large enough to absorb a blow from her.
Cap dropped his huge hands to their shoulders and stepped between them. “That’s enough of your crap, kids.” He faced Shawn. “I don’t tolerate violence among my crew.”
Shawn nodded. “I understand. Sorry to waste your time.” She reached for her gear, hiding her sigh of relief.
As she lifted her pack, Cap spoke. “I didn’t fire you.”
Shawn turned in disbelief. Drake was staring at Cap with the same surprised expression she felt on her face.
“What?” Drake asked Cap.
Cap frowned at Drake. “I’m letting it slide this time. You practically begged her to hit you, probably because you thought you knew how I’d react. And if you can forget she’s a woman long enough to brawl with her, you can work with her.” He slapped Drake on the back. “Show her the boat.”
Drake narrowed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut.
“You hear me?” Cap nudged Drake with his elbow.
Drake’s eyes snapped from Shawn to Cap and he jerked his chin down a fraction of an inch.
Shawn shook her head. “I’m not going to work with someone who thinks I’ll get him killed.”
“Damn it, girl. You’re working on this boat. I don’t have time to find another hand before we leave.” Cap stormed up to the wheelhouse, slamming the door.
Shawn glowered at his back, wondering how the two men normally got along. The air was thick with tension and she didn’t know how much of it was due to her presence and how much was standard.
If they usually got along great and the friction was entirely her fault it would make for an unbearable trip. But on the other hand, if they always got along in this manner, she wasn’t looking forward to working with either of them. She also wanted to know if Drake was as chauvinistic and obstinate as he seemed to her. Sometimes first impressions weren’t accurate. And she had to admit to herself her attitude toward men was a bit skewed right now. She wanted to blame Ethan, her ex-fiancée, but she knew she was the only one responsible for her attitude.
Ethan and Addi may have broken her heart, but she was the one allowing that heartbreak to affect her life. She was upset with Ethan for stealing her money to elope with her roommate, the woman Shawn had considered her best friend. She was mad at Addi for her deception as well, but mostly she was irritated with herself for not knowing of their affair. She vowed not to let her guard down or trust anyone enough to permit them to hurt her again.
She knew she should keep an open mind regarding Drake until she got to know him better. She even admitted it was possible he was having a bad day and never meant to come across the way he had. Only time would tell.
###
After following Drake down a corridor that was barely wide enough for his shoulders and certainly not wide enough for two people to pass, Shawn was surprised when he pushed aside a curtain hanging in a doorway. A tiny room, made even smaller by Drake’s presence, contained two stacks of bunks. There was a porthole above the top bunk on the right and one on the wall opposite the doorway.
“This is the bunk room.” Drake pointed to the bottom berth on the left. “That’s JP’s. Take your pick of the others.”
“I assume he’s another hand?” Shawn asked as she looked around.
Drake nodded and turned to leave the bunkroom. Shawn raised her eyebrows. “Hey, Drake.”
When he faced her, she asked, “Which bunk is yours?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s just a place to sleep.”
Shawn recoiled from his irritated expression. “Take it easy. I was just trying to be polite. I figured it would be pretty rude of me to take your bunk and you didn’t point out which one was yours.”
“I’ll sleep on the deck before I’ll share a room with you.”
Shawn gaped at his open hostility. She knew he wasn’t pleased but didn’t think he’d be so blunt about it. Before she could respond, he continued in his angry tone. “I don’t like you and I don’t want you on The KayLeigh. I don’t know what Dad was thinking but hiring you was a mistake.”
Shawn opened her mouth to retaliate and Drake shook his head, straightening in the doorway. Shawn could barely see the blue of his eyes as he continued. “I’m not finished. We’re not going to be friends. I’ll tolerate your presence. But only because Dad has some crazy reason he thinks this is a good idea.
“I know for a fact it’s not and I doubt it’ll take him long to realize it either.” Drake stepped back and disappeared down the hall, leaving Shawn speechless.
Dumbfounded, she looked around the room. There were only a couple feet between the two stacks of bunks. There were two wall sconces between the beds, one at each level so a switch could be reached from any of the bunks.
She dropped her knapsack on the bottom bunk on the right, already regretting the choices that brought her here. Would it really have been so bad to stay in Seattle? At least there, she’d been respected.
Snorting, she corrected herself. Your fiancée eloping with your supposed best friend isn’t exactly ‘being highly respected’. Turns out life pretty much sucks no matter where you go when you’re Shawn Marie Nilsen.
She muttered under her breath about Drake’s lack of manners. The least he could have done was share some information on the rest of the crew. It seemed like a common courtesy, but she was beginning to realize there wouldn’t be any politeness toward her from Drake. At least not until he realized she was serious with regard to doing her job. Even if it killed her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching her fail. And, she pointed out to herself, she still didn’t know whether Drake treated all greenhorns the same way. Obviously, the comments regarding her gender were based on that, but maybe he made all the new hands suffer to test their mettle, like the drill sergeants had done in boot camp.
She wouldn’t know until she met the rest of the crew, and chances were slim that she’d meet anyone while she was hiding in the bunkroom. She hadn’t been hired to lurk in her bunk while the rest of the crew worked. At some point, she’d have to meet them and learn whether they were as bad as Drake. As bad as Drake seemed, she corrected herself.
“Might as well get it over with,” she grumbled and pulled on a pair of gloves as she walked back outside.
###
Drake and another man were talking at the edge of the deck. She knew they weren’t paying any attention to her, so she stopped and looked them over. Drake was a couple inches taller than her and thin.
Surprised to find herself thinking he was good-looking, she started to smile before neutralizing her expression. The last thing she needed was to be attracted to the son of her boss. And he’d made it perfectly clear they weren’t going to be friends. She wondered whether they’d even reach the point of civility toward one another.
With a shake of her head, Shawn turned her attention to the other man. She guessed he was probably close to six-four and solid all the way through. He wore faded jeans and an old, stained sweatshirt, frayed at the cuffs, and beat-up leather boots. His dark hair curled around his collar and the honey-colored skin of his face.
When the two of them noticed Shawn, Drake glared and the other man smiled. Shawn swallowed hard and approached them, hoping with all of her being this guy might be decent but expecting him to share Drake’s attitude. When Drake smirked instead of introducing them, she turned toward the larger man and said, “I’m Shawn.”
“Hey, I’m JP.” His voice was friendly. “Drake didn’t mention he was dating anyone.”
Shawn shook her head in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Not a chance in hell,” Drake said at the same time. “Dad hired her. Obviously, he’s lost his mind.”
Shawn tried not to squirm under JP’s perusal. His eyes seemed to bore right through her and she wondered if he could tell she was hiding something--or did he think she couldn’t do the job too?
“Where are you from?” JP asked.
“Seattle most recently,” Shawn replied.
“Why are you here?”
Shawn swallowed and peeked at Drake from the corner of her eye. He was leaning against a stack of crab pots, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his jeans. Beneath the smug look on his face, he seemed interested in Shawn’s response.
She wasn’t going to tell them how Ethan and Addi eloped or that she wanted to run away from her life. All she wanted was to do her job. Uncertain what to say, Shawn resorted to her standby for awkward times--sarcasm verging on the edge of meanness. “I wondered what it’d be like to surround myself with jerks. For some reason it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stalked to the bow of the boat. She wrapped her hands around the railing and gazed across the harbor. When her hands started to ache, she forced herself to relax and looked around with interest.
The stack of the crab pots covered most of the deck with narrow walkways connecting the bow and stern of the boat. Weaving through the maze, she stepped around the wheelhouse, saw JP bent over the rail and retreated, not ready for another confrontation yet.
“Hey.”
Shawn turned, knowing she hadn’t made things easy with her sarcastic response to his question earlier but she hoped for the best.
“Come here,” JP said.
Shawn lifted her chin and approached him, preparing for more verbal sparring. At least she hoped it was only going to be verbal. She relaxed when she looked over the railing and saw a sea lion next to the boat. JP must not be too terrible if he liked animals.
JP dropped a chunk of fish into the sea lion’s open mouth. When it barked in approval, JP spoke to it. “Hush. You know I’m not supposed to feed you.”
The sea lion huffed quietly.
“Good boy.” JP glanced at Shawn. “He hangs around and I give him a snack before each trip.” He held out a bucket of fish.
Shawn selected a piece and dropped it to the sea lion as she asked, “How do you know it’s the same one?”
“A scar on his back.” JP held a fish up so the sea lion had to jump to get it. “See?” he asked when it splashed back into the water.
Shawn nodded and watched him dole out the rest of the fish, unsure what to say and curious why he’d called her over.
“What’s your last name?” JP asked without looking at her.
“Nilsen,” she said with dread. Would he recognize her surname? And if he did, what would his reaction be? She was glad she hadn’t bothered unpacking yet. If this guy said something to the captain concerning who she was, she might find herself unemployed.
“Your grandpa from around here?”
Apparently, JP did recognize the name and Shawn jerked her head toward him to see his reaction. His mouth had curved into a wide smile, which Shawn recognized. She wondered why she hadn’t known him earlier. His features were the same but he wasn’t gawky for his height any more. He’d filled out quite a bit and his hair was shorter and darker. A decade will change anyone, but she was surprised at her lack of recognition and even more surprised that he’d recognized her.
Shawn thought she’d changed a lot since she’d last seen him, giving up her teen-angst look of black hair and baggy clothes. Her hair was now its natural brown color and she dressed for comfort. She wasn’t ashamed of her body and didn’t try hiding it anymore, but she didn’t dress to flaunt herself either. “JP,” she said slowly with a smile.
“Jarvis Parker,” they said together.
“Wow. Of all the boats I could be on, I end up on one with somebody I know.” Shawn tensed again, wondering if JP would tell Cap and Drake who she was or who her grandfather was. She wasn’t ashamed of it; she just didn’t want any special treatment when they learned she owned a fishing boat. Knowing she was going to be sharing a tiny bunk room with someone she’d had a crush on ten years ago made it hard to relax too.
JP nodded. “How strange is that?”
“It’s definitely weird.” If Shawn believed in it, she’d question fate.
“If you want to fish, why aren’t you on your grandpa’s boat?”
Shawn bit her lower lip. “He died a few months ago.”
“I know. I was sorry to hear that.”
Shawn remained silent. If he knew her grandpa was dead, why would he expect her to be on Poseidon? Did he really think she’d go out on the boat without her grandpa?
“You keeping his boat?” JP turned his gaze to her from the sea lion.
Shawn shrugged. She wasn’t ready to make JP a confidant, but she’d never been good at lying or keeping secrets. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“What do your folks want to do with it?”
Shawn shook her head. “They don’t get a vote. He left everything to me.”
“Guess that means you’re set.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Shawn said even though she didn’t feel set. She had no idea what she wanted out of life. She didn’t know where she wanted to be. She didn’t feel like she knew anything about anything right now. “How’d you know it was me?” she asked after a moment of silence.
“How many other female Shawns do you suppose there are in the world?”
JP laughed at her shrug. “And how many of those do you suppose are Nilsens?”
Shawn turned and leaned against the railing. “I’m surprised you’d even remember my name.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Shawn shook her head. How could she say she doubted she’d mattered enough for him to remember her without sounding like the fifteen year old girl she was when she last saw him? She forced a smile. “I’m surprised, that’s all.” She was more uncomfortable with every passing minute.
JP grabbed her left wrist and pushed up the sleeve of her jacket. “Besides, I’d have known the minute I saw that.” He tapped the long, jagged scar on her forearm.
Shawn drew her arm away and tugged her jacket back down when she spotted Drake approaching.
“Does he know who you are?” JP asked under his breath.
Shawn shook her head and remembered her worry that JP would reveal her identity. She would never ask anyone to lie for her. If he felt it was necessary to tell Cap or Drake who she was, she’d face the consequences. She hadn’t lied in reference to her family; she just hadn’t offered any information beyond what was asked.
JP nodded and raised his voice so Drake would hear him. “According to Simba, we’ll have a good catch.”
“The only thing that damn sea lion told you was he’s too lazy to find his own food.” Drake stopped in front of Shawn. “JP’s married.”
“So?” Shawn asked.
“So, don’t think you can get him to do your work by flirting with him.”
Shawn batted her eyelashes at JP. “I was sure he was man enough to do both our jobs.”
JP chuckled and Shawn turned back to Drake. “It’s going to be a long trip if you do nothing but glare at me.”
“So? What’s your point?” he mimicked her previous response. “I’m sick of you already. And I’m certain it’s going to be a long trip.”
No longer surprised by his obvious dislike for her but curious what irked him so much, she pushed away from the rail. “No point. Nice to meet you, JP.” She spoke as she walked away, fighting the urge to look back and see Drake’s reaction.
###
Shawn approached Cap in the wheelhouse. “I don’t think this is going to work out-”
“Too late,” Cap interrupted and pointed out the window. Drake and JP were coiling the lines they’d just cast off. “We’re on our way.” Cap glanced at his watch. “It’s almost sixteen hours to where we’re headed. Tonight is probably the last chance you’ll have to get more than a few hours of sleep at a time, so I suggest you hit the sack and rest up.”
Shawn gaped at him. This was it. No way out now. Maybe things would change, but she had a suspicion no one on The KayLeigh, except maybe JP, was going to make her feel welcome here. She would do her job and hope for the best. Pitying herself wouldn’t make the situation any better. She went down into the galley where she saw JP and Drake entering from the deck.
“Coffee?” JP asked.
“No, thanks.” Shawn walked past them and out the door they’d just entered. She’d intended to be friendly but decided she needed to be away from Drake more. At least for now.
###
As Drake and JP settled onto the benches surrounding the table in the galley, Cap called down from the wheelhouse, “Drake, I need to talk to you.”
“In trouble already?” JP asked his lifelong friend with a grin.
“God only knows,” Drake replied, taking his mug and climbing the steep stairs from the galley to the wheelhouse.
Classical music played from the small speakers in the corners of the ceiling. Without speaking, Drake glanced over Cap’s shoulder and checked the computer screens and radar, easily understanding the various monitors. With a nod of satisfaction, he sank into the chair next to Cap’s. The brown leather, worn soft over time, had just enough give to shape itself to Drake’s body as he leaned back and propped his feet on the edge of the desk, crossing his ankles.
He was comfortable here. He’d spent more time on The KayLeigh than he had on land and he loved it. Just entering the wheelhouse soothed his nerves most of the time and today was no different. Even as angry as he was with Cap for hiring a woman, some, but not all, of his irritation faded as he settled into the chair.
Cap sipped from a coffee mug and when he set it down, he looked away from his controls out the window. Drake waited in silence, knowing there was nothing he could do to make Cap speak before he was good and ready. When Cap turned from the window, Drake dropped his feet to the floor and swiveled his chair to face his father.
Cap met Drake’s gaze and, before Drake had a chance to speak, stated, “I’m the captain. I make the hiring decisions.” He took another swallow of his coffee before he continued.
“Mike called me a few days ago to ask if I had any openings. Someone who’d been in the Guard with him was coming up and needed a job. They were down on their luck but he vouched for them, saying they’re a hard worker and good on the water even though they’d never fished before.”
“How good?” Drake asked.
“One of the calmest, coolest people in an emergency, he said.”
“He just didn’t mention this person--this Coast Guard god--was a woman? And you agreed to hire them sight unseen?”
“I knew she was a woman and I met her before I hired her.”
In Drake’s experience Cap had always made decent hiring decisions before. Grudgingly, Drake admitted to himself that his father may have in this case too, but there was something about Shawn that made Drake uncomfortable and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“What makes her so great?” Drake asked, trying to remain calm. He knew flying off the handle wouldn’t make Cap agree with his opinion.
Cap shrugged. “Just a feeling I get. She’ll be good for The KayLeigh.” He looked at the multiple computer screens and adjusted their course automatically. “Besides, we needed a hand.”
Drake stood and moved to the window before saying, “It’s bad luck to have a woman on a boat, Dad.”
Drake stared out the window as Cap replied. “Don’t give me that crap, boy. Why do you believe in those old wives’ tales? Haven’t you ever stepped on a crack? Walked under a ladder?”
Unwilling to dismiss his superstitions, Drake spoke quietly. “What about Bjorn?” He turned from the window to meet his father’s gaze, not even trying to hide the pain in his expression.
Cap frowned. “A tragedy.”
“Kirima,” Drake replied, blaming his dead friend’s wife.
“An accident that could have happened anywhere. With or without a woman on board.” Cap stood and sighed. “I need some more coffee,” he said and disappeared down the stairs to the galley leaving Drake alone with his thoughts.
Drake warned Bjorn he had a bad feeling regarding his father-in-law’s boat, but Bjorn laughed at Drake and called him a worrywart. It was the last time they spoke. When Drake learned the boat had gone down with his boyhood friend, he’d been devastated. He still held himself responsible because he hadn’t been able to change Bjorn’s mind.
If only Bjorn had heeded Drake’s warning. It wasn’t the only time that Drake had a premonition of something bad happening, it was just the most vivid. He had a similar feeling now and didn’t know why, but suspected the new hand, Shawn, would somehow bring disaster to The KayLeigh. But he knew he couldn’t change Cap’s mind. Cap was optimistic to the extreme, where Drake tended to see the bad in everything.
When Cap returned to the wheelhouse with his steaming mug, he said, “Say your piece.”
Drake turned from the window. “I don’t trust her,” he said tersely.
“Why?”
“She’s hiding something.” There was something in her attitude and personality that rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn’t that she’d punched him either. The way her eyes flicked around, never meeting his when they spoke, made him wonder what she was hiding.
Crab fishing was strenuous, even when you had a crew that worked well together. Anyone who didn’t do their fair share made everyone else’s job that much harder.
He was surprised by her strength when she’d punched him but suspected most of the force was due to anger. If she stayed angry, she might be able to do the work, but he still didn’t think it was a good idea.
Cap’s voice broke into Drake’s thoughts. “We’ve all got secrets. It doesn’t mean we’re bad people.”
“You know what it’s like to work with someone you don’t trust.”
Cap nodded. “I do, but we’d have that with any new hand. Male or female. There’s always a period of getting to know and trust each other.”
Drake took a deep breath. “It’s dangerous.”
Cap frowned. “You think I’d risk my crew? I’ve done this longer than you’ve been alive. I know the risks involved.” He cleared his throat and continued in a calmer voice. “I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as you say. She’s been on boats before. She knows what can happen. Remember, she was in the Coast Guard with Mike. And I respect his opinion.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“Well, you’re going to have to learn to.”
Drake spun around. “This is wrong. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.”
Cap dismissed Drake’s statement with a wave of his hand. “You know it’s just opening day jitters. You want something, someone, to poke at and blame. It wouldn’t matter who I hired, you’d still be griping about it.”
“Griping about it? Just wait until we get out there. She’s not going to be any help. You’ll be complaining because of how slow we’re pulling pots.”
Cap grinned. “I’ll be bitching about how slow you’re working no matter what. It’s what the captain does.”
After a few seconds of silence, Cap pushed on. “That it? You’re not going to change my mind but I’ll listen to what you have to say.”
“I don’t think she can pull her weight.”
“Why? Just because she’s a woman?”
“Not just that. She’s small. You wouldn’t hire a kid. She’s practically the same size I was when I was twelve.”
Cap grinned. “And when you were twelve, you were always begging to crab with me.”
“And you always said I was too small,” Drake said, thinking Cap had just made his point for him.
Cap shook his head. “I said you were too young. There’s a difference. And,” he held up a hand to prevent Drake from responding. “You’re my son. I wasn’t willing to take any risks with your safety.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you hired her.”
“I was friends with her grandfather. I didn’t want her to end up on a boat with a bunch of Asses that would take advantage of her.” Cap glowered. “She isn’t aware that I know who she is and you’re not going to say anything about it either.”
“Who’s her grandfather?”
“Lars Nilsen.”
“Of Poseidon?”
Cap nodded.
“If she owns that, tell her to go fish on her own damn boat.”
“Knock it off, boy. Lars asked me to look out for her if she ever came up here. You’re just going to have to live with it.”
Drake shook his head. He’d said all he could. He’d used the few valid arguments he could and he wasn’t going to reiterate his bad feelings regarding her and The KayLeigh. He knew Cap would continue to believe it was opening day jitters even though Drake was never nervous before fishing.
“Then I don’t want to hear anything more about it. You’ve had your chance to voice your opinion and once you leave here, the topic’s closed.”
Drake nodded once and decided to share the rest of his bad mood with Cap. “Your wife called this morning.” Drake’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Is that what has you frothing at the mouth?” Cap asked.
Drake sneered. “It sure didn’t put me in the right frame of mind for working with a woman.”
When Cap didn’t respond, Drake continued. “She’s coming up.”
“When?” Cap asked and concentrated on steering the boat between two buoys in the harbor. Drake knew he was pretending because Cap could exit the harbor at Kodiak with his eyes closed. It definitely didn’t take the amount of focus Cap was using.
“A couple of days.” Drake watched his father for an indication of his feelings.
Expressionless, Cap spoke. “Good. It’s time you two worked out your differences.”
“Work out our differences?” Drake’s voice rose. “As far as I’m concerned, she can rot in hell.”
Cap shook his finger at Drake. “Don’t talk that way about your mother, boy.”
“Mother? She’s not a mother. Mothers don’t leave their kids or split up their families.”
Cap’s voice was quiet but his anger was clear from his flashing eyes and clenched jaw. “She’s your mother and you will treat her with respect.”
“Like the respect she’s treated our family with?”
“You don’t know the whole story,” Cap said, all the anger gone from his voice.
“I know she left us.” Drake glared at his father. “And I don’t know why the hell you keep making excuses for her. She hasn’t come back in twenty-five years. She doesn’t deserve respect from either of us.”
When Drake noticed Cap was looking at him with a contemplative expression, he said, “What?”
Cap wiped his hand across his face. “When we get back, you might want to look for a different place to live.”
“Why? Are you kicking me out of the house?”
Cap shook his head. “No, I just figured you wouldn’t want to live with your parents.”
“I don’t. You live on the boat.”
Cap looked down at the mug in his hand. “Not for much longer. Your mother is coming back permanently.”
“What?”
“We’re going to make it work.”
“Why didn’t you do that twenty-five years ago if you were going to do it? We’re fine without her.”
Cap shook his head. “No, we’re not fine without her. I still love her and I’ve been miserable without her. Why do you think we never got divorced?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you didn’t think she was worth the bother. Maybe you didn’t know where she was.”
Cap took another sip of coffee. “I knew where she was the whole time.”
“This is such bullshit,” Drake muttered.
“Grow up.” Cap moved to stand in front of Drake. “I’m pretty sure your life is still full of twists and turns and it’s not going to end up the way you planned. If you think you can make things turn out the way you want just by sheer stubbornness, you’re going to be pretty damn miserable.”
With a frustrated shake of his head, Drake left the wheelhouse, slamming the door.
###
In the bunkroom, Shawn stowed her bag under her bunk and hung her jacket on a wall hook. She collapsed on the bunk and kicked her boots to the floor, comforted by the rocking of the boat.
She’d spent some time on boats. When she was fifteen, she’d grown tired of her father’s refusal to answer her questions about his family. After finding her grandfather’s address on an old envelope, she ran away from home and spent three months on Poseidon, Grandpa’s fishing boat. That’s how she met JP. He was working for her grandfather when she came to Alaska.
Shawn sighed. Reliving the past wasn’t what she wanted. She just wanted to be alone to make her decisions. Her parents believed she had already decided on her grandfather’s estate, though she’d never responded when they asked about it. Her father had left Alaska when he was eighteen and never returned. Her mother never met Shawn’s grandparents. Grandpa hadn’t even known Shawn existed until she showed up on the dock next to Poseidon.
He had accepted her instantly and she loved him from the moment she met him. His temper didn’t faze her. She enjoyed learning everything he had taught her concerning fishing and Alaska. But as much as she loved her grandfather and Poseidon, Shawn knew she couldn’t stay with him.
She fought to spend the summer and suspected she’d been allowed to stay only because her parents hoped performing manual labor for three months would make her more appreciative of all they’d given her in life. Their plan had backfired though. She returned to Minnesota with a cast on her arm the day before her sophomore year and ever since, she’d felt the most alive when her muscles ached and her hands were callused.
Tired of the trip down memory lane, Shawn rose from the bunk, wandered into the galley and spotted JP at the counter chopping vegetables. “What are you doing?” she asked as she approached.
“Making supper.” JP scooped the vegetables into a bowl of lettuce and tossed it before setting the salad in the fridge. He closed the door and pushed on the bottom of the door with his foot. “It doesn’t seal. Make sure you kick the bottom.”
“You’re the cook?”
“The deckhands take turns. I hope you cook better than Drake.”
Shawn smiled. She enjoyed cooking and her friends were always happy to be invited over for a meal. She didn’t feel any need to brag so just said, “I do okay.” She leaned against the wall and watched him. “What are you making?”
“Lasagna, garlic toast, and salad. Nothing special.”
“Sounds great to me.” Shawn watched as he covered a tray of French bread with mozzarella cheese. When he slid the pan into the oven, she said, “So how are they to work for?”
“They’re slave drivers. But they’re fair. They’ve never expected more of me than they expect of themselves. Of course, I’ve known them most of my life, so maybe I’m a bit biased.”
“It’s a decent boat?”
“Way better than decent.” He poured a cup of coffee and offered it to her.
“No, thanks. I don’t drink coffee.”
“What’s your poison?” JP asked.
“What do you think?”
JP grinned. “Still on that chocolate milk kick?”
Shawn nodded and laughed, not surprised that he remembered. He had teased her constantly because of her love for chocolate milk during the time they’d spent together on Poseidon.
“You’re in luck.” JP poured a mug of milk then set a canister of chocolate powder on the counter in front of her.
Shawn mixed a cup and settled into the corner of the orange vinyl bench that formed a U-shape around the table. “So what’s new with you? Been fishing all this time?”
JP slid into the booth across from her. “Not steadily. I spent some time trying to be a normal land-dwelling person. It didn’t work out and Cap was looking for a hand, so I hired on. Been here the last six years.”
“What did you try to do?”
“I got a degree in aquatic biology.”
“And you’re still on a fishing boat?”
“Yeah, it’s more fun than studying what’s in the water. What have you been up to?”
Shawn toyed with her mug, contemplating how much to tell him. Just because she knew him ten years ago didn’t mean she trusted him. Besides she didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. She just wanted to do her job and earn some money. “Not much.”
She glanced up at JP as he nodded. “Got it. None of my business. That’s cool.” He moved to stand.
“JP, wait,” Shawn said and reached out to touch his arm.
He stopped next to the table and met her gaze.
She shifted her eyes away and spoke. “It’s not you. It’s...” Her voice faded and after a moment of silence, she shook her head and continued. “My life is pretty much a mess right now and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I get it.” He opened he oven door to peek in. “Around five minutes to go.”
Shawn rested her chin in her hand as she watched him, hoping she hadn’t messed up any chance of rekindling their friendship by being so close-mouthed.
“What’d your parents say about your arm?” JP asked as he turned back toward her.
“Obviously a fishing boat was no place for a fifteen year old girl.” Shawn paused and grinned at the memory. “And maybe I’d learned my lesson.”
“What kind of lesson?” JP set the salad bowl on the table in front of her.
“I guess I was supposed to acknowledge they were smarter than me.”
“Did you?”
“No.” Shawn stood and opened cupboard doors until she found plates. She took a stack and when she turned, her smile disappeared. Drake stood just inside the galley, frown in place.
Shawn deposited the dishes on the table. Already weary of the tension every time she was around Drake, she forced a grin and said, “JP made lasagna.”
“Good for JP,” Drake replied and settled into the corner of the bench.
JP dished up four servings of lasagna, sat next to Drake and dug into his food.
Shawn slid into the booth opposite Drake and stared at her plate. Drake didn’t look like Ethan, but he still reminded her of him. Some of his mannerisms were the same, like how he ran his hand over his hair. And how he clenched his jaw in anger, like he was literally biting back his words. Realizing she was making Drake pay for Ethan’s mistakes because they had a few similar behaviors, Shawn vowed to give him a chance as a person.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Shawn smiled and commented on the sweatshirt Drake wore. “Calgary seems to have a good team this year. Do you think they have a chance at the cup?” Being raised in Minnesota, hockey was the one sport Shawn followed closely. She thought Drake might relax a little if she could find a topic of discussion they both had an interest in.
Drake held her gaze for a few seconds before returning his attention to his food. Shawn swallowed, questioning her resolve already. It wasn’t going to be easy to change his opinion of her, but she reminded herself how much she liked a challenge.
Cap came into the galley, filled his cup from the coffee pot and sat next to Shawn. “Looks good,” he said to JP and ate his helping of pasta without another word. As he scooped more lasagna onto his plate, he looked at Drake. “What do you think of heading up past St. Paul Island?”
“You’re the boss.” Shawn could hear the irritation in Drake’s voice and she’d just met him.
JP glanced from Drake to Cap and back, then at Shawn who quickly broke eye contact.
The rest of the meal was strained. JP attempted to make them laugh a couple times but the only reaction was a sympathetic smile from Shawn as she wondered again how they all got along before she joined the crew.
Cap finished his meal first and returned to the wheelhouse after thanking JP for cooking.
Shawn slid out of the booth and started cleaning the galley. She’d filled the sink with water when Drake appeared next to her.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
“It’s not a problem. I can clean up,” Shawn said and started adding dishes to the soapy water.
“I said I’d do it.” Drake shouldered her away from the sink.
“We take turns washing up. Drake likes to clean up when I cook because I’m messy and then he doesn’t have to be outside working.” JP mumbled around a mouthful of food.
Drake grinned at JP. “Except you’re so slow I finish cleaning up before you’re even done eating.”
“I can help,” Shawn offered again, wishing she could join in the teasing banter between the two of them.
Drake glared at her.
“Or not,” Shawn said and turned away. “Thanks for supper, JP. It was great.”
“You’d think he’d be mature enough to be civil,” she grumbled under her breath as she returned to the bunkroom. Temper flares she could handle, but Shawn didn’t know how to deal with silent hatred. She could only assume the problem was as he’d stated. She was a woman. And there was no way she could change that.
She removed her sweatshirt and dropped it on the floor before stretching out on the bunk and closing her eyes. Maybe a nap would make her more resilient to Drake’s treatment. And if it didn’t, at least she didn’t have to think while she was asleep.
###
Drake walked into the bunkroom, angry he had to wake Shawn. He knew he was holding her gender against her. He wouldn’t have a problem if JP was catching a nap, or any of the other hands he’d worked with over the years. He could even acknowledge that it made sense to sleep whenever you could on a fishing vessel because there were many nights when more than two or three hours would be unlikely. The only reason he and JP didn’t nap on the trip out to the area they intended to fish was because they were too excited to be on the water again to sleep.
The entire problem with Shawn was that she was a woman. Right now, the only thing she had going in her favor was punching him. He was certain from the look in her eyes the act had terrified her and she hadn’t backed down. He’d never admit it but that impressed him.
He pushed aside the curtain that hung in the bunkroom doorway and saw she’d taken the bottom bunk on the right, across from JP’s. The bunk Drake normally used. Irritation rose, but he tamped it down. It was his fault, and his alone. She had asked which bed was his and he said it didn’t matter.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and looked her over. She was lying on her stomach, feet toward the door. He noted she was smart enough to wear wool socks and high-quality boots sat next to the bunk. Moving his gaze over her legs, which seemed long for such a petite woman, he paused to look at her butt for a few seconds, where the denim had all but disintegrated near the corners of the pockets.
He shifted his gaze up her body, past the strip of pale skin showing between her low-riding jeans and tank top. Her right arm curled under her head; the left hung off the bunk. Drake was surprised to see a jagged scar nearly four inches long on her forearm and wondered what had caused it.
She reminded him of Kirima, Bjorn’s widow. They were close to the same size and height, but the physical similarities ended there. Kirima was Inuit and her features showed it. Shawn’s features were delicate in comparison and her complexion was pale. Drake smirked. Her smooth skin was going to take a hell of a beating from the weather, and she would be in a lot of pain from the drying and cracking in a matter of days if she wasn’t prepared. He considered mentioning it, but his bad mood over-ruled his normally helpful nature.
Knowing Kirima his entire life, Drake recognized the same attitude in Shawn. The only difference he noticed so far was Shawn didn’t captain one of the largest fishing boats docked in Kodiak. But according to his father, her family did own one of them. Kirima hadn’t backed down from a fight in her life and Bjorn always claimed he loved that most about her. Drake never understood the attraction.
The women Drake dated were easy-going. None of them ever stood up to him, even to state where they wanted to go for supper. That was fine with Drake. He spent the majority of his time fishing with strong and determined men. When he wanted to relax, he didn’t want to deal with attitude.
Angry he’d allowed himself to grow intrigued by her, Drake kicked the wall next to her bunk and snarled, “Get out of bed. It’s time to drop pots.”
Shawn rolled over and met his scowl. “You get your fill?”
Drake jerked his head back a fraction of an inch, like he’d been hit again. He wondered how she knew he’d been watching her and tried to bluff his way out of it. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been standing there gawking for a while.”
Drake raised his hand to the back of his head and scratched nervously. How could she possibly know he’d been there? With a frown he said, “Like hell.”
“Yeah. You have.” Shawn sat up and raked her hair away from her face. She fished a clip from her pocket and fastened her hair back. “I heard you.”
Drake smirked. “In your dreams.”
Shawn stood and pulled the sweatshirt from the floor over her head. Drake cursed himself for noticing her flat stomach when her tank top rode up. She pulled on rain gear and jammed both feet into her boots.
“Besides, I could smell you.”
Drake realized his hand was still on the back of his head and he lowered it in what he hoped was a casual manner. “Now I know you’re full of shit.”
Shawn smiled. “Old Spice makes me want to puke.” She pulled her gloves and hat on and pushed past him in the doorway.
“Sure it’s Old Spice?” Drake taunted.
“Yeah. I recognize it. Kind of hard not to when you apparently bathe in it.”
Drake gaped at her as she walked away. When he noticed he was still standing in the door trying to decide whether she was right about the amount of Old Spice he used, he cursed and kicked the wall again, wondering why her opinion mattered to him at all.
###
Unsure of herself but trying not to let it show, Shawn approached JP, who was hunched next to a tub of frozen fish. “What do I do?” she asked.
JP looked up and smiled. “Grind fish and fill bait jars.” He nodded at the plastic tub of fish. “We’re using cod for bait.” Grabbing a large plastic jar with holes drilled in it; he held it under a metal chute and flipped a switch with his other hand.
Shawn gagged at the smell as the jar filled with chopped fish. JP laughed at her expression and turned the bait grinder off. “You’ll get used to it soon enough.”
Shawn swallowed and fought to control her urge to vomit as JP explained that the jars were filled roughly halfway and the scent attracted the crabs. “The crabs won’t actually get any of the fish you’re grinding. We hang a whole cod in the trap so the crabs have something to feed on, otherwise they’ll end up fighting and injuring one another.”
“Makes sense,” Shawn said and struggled to find a way to hold the jar, flip the switch and keep the fish bits flowing into the jar instead of up into her face.
“You’ll figure it out. It just takes a little practice,” JP said as he moved away.
Shawn didn’t intend to fail the first chore given to her and if she kept her back to Drake, she didn’t have to acknowledge his gaze. Once she filled the pile of bait jars she turned to watch as Drake and JP wrestled a pot onto a low bench near the rail.
Drake opened the door of the trap and pulled the buoys and line out while JP grabbed a bait jar from the pile beside Shawn, clipped it inside, chose a whole cod from another tub, sliced it down the middle with a quick motion, ran a hook through its head and hung it next to the bait jar. Drake closed and latched the trap, and then backing to the side, he pushed a button on a control panel causing hydraulics to lift the bench and the pot slid over the side of the boat as JP tossed the buoys and lines after it.
Shawn watched them hook the next pot and lift it with a crane, before sliding it into place and opening the door. This time when JP reached for the bait jar, she handed it to him. On the third one, she hung the bait jar in place. She had to slide into the pot on her back and hang the jar and cod over her head because of her short reach. When some of the innards fell from a split cod into her mouth, she rolled to the side and retched as Drake laughed. She glared at him but kept working, making sure her mouth remained closed. By the tenth time she repeated the process, Shawn no longer had to think of how to fasten the bait jars in the traps. By the fifteenth pot, the men weren’t slowing their process for her; she was keeping up.
After they dropped twenty pots, Cap called over the intercom, “Come on in. We’ll let ‘em soak and check back in a few hours.”
JP draped an arm around Shawn’s shoulders and the other around Drake’s. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves quite a team.”
Drake shrugged him off. “Don’t bet on it,” he snapped and disappeared toward the wheelhouse.
Shawn shook her head and ducked from under JP’s arm. “What is his problem? Is he always like this, or is he just on his best behavior because of me?”
JP frowned. “Something’s bothering him.”
“Yeah. Me.”