Water's Edge (Alaskan Frontier Romance Book 1) Read online

  WATER’S EDGE

  JENNIFER MCARDLE

  Water’s Edge

  Copyright © 2014 Jennifer McArdle

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Cover design by Jennifer McArdle.

  Cover photographs: “View of the Water of the Turnagain Arm Near Hope Alaska in Soft Evening Light with Bright Blue Skies” by M. Cornelius/Shutterstock; “Magenta Coloured Fireweed” by MountainHardcore/Shutterstock; “Red Silk Banner Collection Isolated on White Background” by Elena Schweitzer/Shutterstock; “Old Chapel at the Karwendel in Austria” by FooTToo/Shutterstock.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  WATER’S EDGE

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Other Titles

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Chapter 1

  Shivering, Nora stood on the deck of the M/V LeConte and watched anxiously for her first glimpse of the town of Heron. For hours, the only scenery had been endless water crashing against rocky shores. It was more beautiful than anything Nora had ever seen, the remote wilderness, but since the ferry had departed from Juneau, they had only passed two small towns. Two towns in seven hours. The rest of the time Nora had seen nothing but trees. Forests that seemed to go on forever, rising from the shores of the salty water, up the mountainsides, until they disappeared into the fog.

  Nora had spent most of the long ride sitting in the warm lounge watching as the ferry passed by other boats. They were mostly small fishing vessels. Occasionally, large flat vessels carrying cargo containers. When the ferry passed through the major shipping lanes right after leaving Juneau, the waters were teeming with activity. Gradually, they passed by fewer and fewer boats as they made their way toward the more remote areas of Southeast Alaska.

  She’d been on ferries far too long. It should never take this long to get anywhere, she thought, itching to get off the water and back on solid ground.

  Two and a half days. That’s how long the first ferry took to get from Washington to Juneau. Two and a half days of wandering around a ship with nothing to do. She’d spent a fair amount of time in the dining room on the main level of the ferry. With its expanse of wide windows, it afforded a rather nice view of the waters and islands. Once a day, a movie played in the theater, a dark chilly room in the center of the vessel. Nora had only walked by the door to the theater, unsure of whether she wanted to be cooped up in a windowless metal room with a bunch of strangers for two hours. The thought was not appealing. In the evenings, the small bar opened, and people gathered there to get to know one another over a pitcher of beer or a game of cards. There was also a forward lounge. It was lined with rows and rows of plush chairs facing a front wall of windows looking out onto the narrow waterway that wove between islands off the coast of British Columbia. On the upper level, there was a recliner lounge, where many people who hadn’t purchased cabins slept the ride away. A few more adventurous folks brought sleeping bags or tents and pitched them outside on the upper deck, sleeping under the stars. Nora wasn’t that adventurous. She had purchased a four-berth cabin, a small room on the exterior of the ship’s cabin level with a small porthole to look outside and four very basic bunks hanging from the walls. It wasn’t much, but it was the largest sized passenger cabin and it included the relative luxury of having a private bathroom.

  Within the first day on the ferry to Juneau, Nora knew half of the passengers aboard. Some were Alaskans returning home after living in the Lower 48 for a while. Most were vacationers or people moving to Alaska, excited at the prospect of fulfilling lifelong dreams of seeing one of the most beautiful places on Earth. A few were enlisted men on their way to report for duty. Nora couldn’t remember most of their names, but many of them had taken the time to introduce themselves, tell her where they were heading, and ask about her own destination. Of course, they had never heard of Heron. That wasn’t much of a surprise because even Nora didn’t know much about the town. She could find it on a map, but that was it.

  After the longest boat ride of her life, the ship docked in Juneau. But Nora was still only partway to her destination. She had another seven-hour boat ride to endure. So, the next day, she re-boarded the Alaska Marine Highway on a much smaller ferry that served several remote communities on various islands nearby. There were far fewer passengers aboard, all of them local, and all of them tired looking. It was no wonder. Travel had never been so exhausting.

  Now, knowing her long journey was coming to a close, Nora refused to sit inside for another minute. She could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of seeing the town she would call home. In spite of the cold, she wanted her first sight of the town to be from the forward deck, not through a streaked window in the lower observation lounge.

  Over the loud speaker, the captain announced their impending arrival, adding that the temperature in Heron was a balmy 47 degrees. A joke, Nora assumed, as she walked around the deck of the ship trying to find something to shield her from the cold gust of wind that blew right through the thin sweater she wore, biting at her skin with a ferociousness she’d never experienced before. No, balmy was definitely not the word she would use to describe the weather.

  Nora had chosen her favorite outfit for her arrival in Heron, even if it wasn’t the most practical. She wanted to start her new life on a good note, looking her best. But she was already regretting the ensemble, a knee-length spring skirt paired with a stylish, low-cut cashmere sweater more for looks than warmth. The tall black boots with stiletto heels completed the outfit, which would have been perfect for a nice spring day in California but proved to be treacherous on the damp deck of a ship headed for a small Alaskan town.

  No doubt, Conner would have chosen something else for her to wear. But her ex-boyfriend no longer got to decide what Nora wore and where she went and who she went with. Regardless of how smart the decision was, Nora was going to wear the outfit because she wanted to, not because some prick told her it would be the correct thing to wear for such an occasion.

  Thank God that relationship was over. Leaving Conner was the most impulsive thing Nora had ever done in her life. She’d always played it safe, followed the rules. And look where it had gotten her. She’d had a comfortable life with Conner, certainly, but not freedom. Not the ability to be herself.

  Conner had just been named the most eligible bachelor in Los Angeles when they’d met. He’d captivated her with his unbelievable good looks, polished charm, and the seemingly unending invitations to exclusive social events. Being with him was like a dream. Before long, Nora found herself receiving invitations to the most important events and more than once she’d been pictured on the social pages alongside the handsom
e Conner Bradshaw. The men wanted her. The women wanted to be her. And Nora got caught up in the glamorous lifestyle. But the thrill of it all wore off rather quickly when Nora realized Conner put his reputation before everything else in his life. For someone of his social stature, appearance meant everything, which meant Nora had to look, and be, her best at all times. She wasn’t given the option to choose her own clothes or hairstyles. Even when they went out, Conner chose where they’d go and what they’d do. Nora couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to choose her own meal off a menu. Two years with a man who had dictated every aspect of Nora’s life had proven to be more than enough. She was through with men.

  Nora wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore the cold greeting of the wind as the ferry eased around a bend and the town finally came into view in the distance. She really should have done at least a little bit of research on the place before spontaneously hopping on a ferry for a three day ride to the middle of nowhere. But she’d been on such an emotional high after finding the courage to leave the security, and the captivity, of her life with Conner that she hadn’t given much thought to what she was going to do once she arrived in Alaska. All she cared about was having a home of her own. A place where she could do whatever she wanted, eat whatever she wanted, wear whatever she wanted. She didn’t care she was leaving behind a wealthy and successful fiancé, an enormous home, and enough money to buy just about anything a person could ever want. She didn’t need much. She already had three times as many clothes as most people. She had a small savings account and if she needed a little cash, she could always sell the car. Nora preferred walking, anyway. And even though Nora didn’t really have any job skills, she was sure she’d be able to find a job doing something.

  The sight of the cozy little town nestled in along the shore of Chichagof Island brought a hopeful smile to Nora’s face. The town was small, as she’d expected, and it had a charming coastal atmosphere. Almost the entire community was built up on pilings over tidal flats. It stretched about a mile along the shore, one long continuous dock connecting the buildings together. Immediately beyond the long strip of houses and buildings, a mountain rose up at a sharp angle, casting a shadow over the town, guarding it the way a mother hen would protect her young.

  The weathered buildings and homes looked worn, painted in a variety of colors that were once bright and cheery but had turned dull over the years. The paint on many of the homes was beginning to peel, and some of them were taking on a greenish hue from the mold and mildew of the damp weather. Still, the town looked attractive under the shadow of the tall mountain, with the water lapping at the darkened wooden pillars that suspended the buildings mere feet above the water. It might be pretty far removed from the rest of the world, Nora thought, but the picturesque view just might make up for that one flaw.

  Nora pulled the letter out of her pocket and read through it one more time. After she had received it in the mail three weeks earlier, she’d promptly called the attorney to find out if it was real or just some awful joke. The man, a Mr. Marshall Mallow, whose very name sounded made up, assured her she did in fact own the property and the appropriate paperwork would be waiting for her when she arrived in Heron. According to the attorney, the property consisted of 5 acres and improvements that included a house and two storage buildings. Oceanfront property, he had said, left to Nora by her late uncle.

  For a week, Nora had kept the letter hidden from Conner as she debated her options. She didn’t want Conner’s advice on what to do with the property. She wasn’t sure she wanted Conner’s advice about anything anymore. The more she thought about it, the more Nora realized she didn’t want the life Conner had given her. Before she fully thought it through, Nora started packing her bags. She packed up everything important to her, which surprisingly all fit in the back seat of her car, and left the home she’d shared with Conner. Driving up to Bellingham, Washington, from Los Angeles, she had called Conner and left a message on his voice-mail, breaking up with him. Probably not the best way to leave someone, she had to admit, but it had been one of the most liberating acts she’d ever committed. She’d instantly felt free, the weight had lifted off her shoulders. She was setting out on her own, heading to an unknown town, to a house she hadn’t even seen a picture of. Every minute, every hour that had passed on the ferry took Nora further away from the only life she’d ever known and closer to her new life in a small bush community, and it felt great.

  As the ship passed by the town and made its way toward the dock on the south end of the community, Nora looked at each of the houses, wondering which one of them might be her house. Any one of them would do. Even though Nora had lived in luxury for the past two years, the money had all been Conner’s. Aside from her modest savings account, at least modest by Conner’s standards, she didn’t have much of her own and she couldn’t afford to be too picky. A home was all she needed, all she really wanted.

  Looking at the seaside homes nestled in closely along the shoreline, Nora smiled contentedly. This quaint community was her new home. It definitely wasn’t a large town, but she hadn’t expected it to be. After all, it was nothing more than a little dot on the map, a far cry from the city she’d grown up in. But it looked as good as any other place to start fresh.

  As the ship approached the dock, Nora folded the letter and tucked it back into her pocket. Then she went to the center stairwell and waited for the crew to open up the car deck. Below, on the lower deck, Nora climbed into her shiny blue Prius, a gift from Conner for her birthday the previous year, and waited for the ferry workers to guide her off the ship.

  Apparently Heron was not a highly sought-after destination, Nora realized as a deck hand directed her to pull forward toward the ramp. A few people exited the ferry through the pedestrian ramp and a couple others waited to board the ship, but that was all. In other ports, Nora had watched while dozens of people disembarked the ship on foot and even more by vehicle. But that was not the case here. According to Nora’s count, only five people including herself, were getting off in Heron. Even odder, she thought, hers was the only vehicle disembarking the ship. She realized why as soon as she exited the ramp and found herself in a small parking lot that didn’t appear to be connected to any roads. Several boats on trailers were parked in the lot, along with only a handful of other vehicles, all of them older, sturdy-looking pick-up trucks.

  Simply because she didn’t know what else to do or where to go, Nora parked her car and then got out and looked around. There had to be roads, right? The only thing Nora saw even resembling a road was a narrow dirt trail leading away from the parking lot and up into the mountains. The trail quickly disappeared from Nora’s sight where it entered the forest, and Nora could only assume the trail went inland, further away from the town.

  Frustrated, Nora kicked the car’s front tire. So the car was completely useless here, she realized bitterly, wishing she’d taken the time to at least do a quick internet search on the town of Heron. If she’d known there were no roads, she could have saved herself hundreds of dollars by walking on the ferry instead of paying to haul a car all the way up to the middle of nowhere. Not to mention, she could have sold the car back in California, or even in Washington before boarding the ferry. It all seemed like such a waste now.

  Oh, well. Nora sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she’d brought her car all this way for nothing. At least she had all of her things. She wouldn’t have been able to carry all of her stuff onto the ferry as a walk-on, Nora reminded herself, trying to look on the bright side.

  Locking the car doors, Nora turned and walked in the direction the other passengers had gone, toward the entrance to a long boardwalk. The others had already disappeared from sight, leaving Nora wondering which direction to follow the boardwalk. To the right, she saw a handful of buildings that looked like houses. To the left, there was a marina and a long line of larger buildings. Left seemed like the logical direction, so that’s where Nora went in search of a place called the P
ub & Grub. That’s where Mallow had directed her to go.

  Since the entire town was less than a mile long, it didn’t take long for Nora to find a building with a simple wooden sign hanging out over the boardwalk with the words “Pub & Grub” marked in dark blue paint. The wooden structure sat on the water side of the boardwalk, though truthfully all of the buildings on both sides of the boardwalk sat on stilts sticking up from the tidal flats below, even the ones nestled up against the mountainside. Like most of the other buildings, the Pub & Grub looked like it had been there for a hundred years – the building wasn’t nearly that old, but the dampness of the coastal climate made everything age faster.

  There was no sign on the exterior of the building to indicate whether the establishment was open or closed. There were no windows on the boardwalk side of the building for Nora to peek in, either. Curious, she grabbed the door handle and pulled. She hadn’t seen a single soul since she got off the ferry and lost sight of the four other passengers that had disembarked the ship at the same time. She was beginning to think this place was a ghost town, so she was actually surprised when the door easily opened and the soft sound of music drifted out from the building.

  Inside, the Pub & Grub was rather dark, with dimly lit little lamps on each table. A bar ran almost the entire length of one wall and the rest of the building was filled with dining tables. The back wall was made up of tall windows, allowing an unobstructed view of the harbor and the inlet.

  The place was empty except for a group of three burly looking men who sat at one of the tables, talking and laughing. All three of them stopped talking the instant Nora walked in and turned to stare at her.

  She looked out of place. Her clothes were expensive, her jewelry ostentatious. She was striking and she knew it. Anywhere else, Nora would have relished having every head turn when she walked into a room. She usually enjoyed the attention, knowing all eyes were on her, that people admired her. But this was an altogether different feeling. It was actually unnerving, the way they looked at her, skeptically eying her up and down. The bearded men didn’t look at her as most men did, with longing in their eyes, wanting her. They looked at her curiously, with distrust. Their nosy stares filled Nora with a sense of unease she’d never experienced before.