After the briefing had finally broken up, she’d avoided the subject by spending a couple of hours on the firing range, because she was sure that putting bullet holes through targets would soothe her the way it normally did.
But it didn’t.
She wasn’t any happier about things when she ran into Jonas in the lodge’s mess hall come lunchtime.
“We’ll need to sit down and hammer out our backstory,” he said after dropping down at the table where she was very clearly sitting by herself. Not that anyone could read that poker face of his, but she could have sworn he looked... well, not alarmed and a little shaken, the way she was. “And I’m going to need more personal details about your family that a date of yours would know.”
Bethan stabbed a forkful of the vegetables on her plate, and that, too, failed to make her feel any better. It wasn’t violent enough. She suspected nothing would be violent enough to make her feel better unless it involved punching Jonas in the face.
But that would be unwise.
Probably.
“Are we in an episode ofThe Twilight Zone?” she asked, quietly enough, which felt like a victory because she wanted to yell. “Am I having a psychotic break? Thismorning, walking down the beach with me was too much for you to bear. But now you’re volunteering to be mydate?” She didn’t like that word. It didn’t seem to fit in her mouth, not when he was regarding her with all that implacable coolness, as if none of their history mattered, suddenly. “At my sister’s wedding, surrounded by my family?”
“I volunteered for an op,” he said mildly. A lot like he was attempting to control a crowd, not have a conversation. Like she was being irrational on the level of amob. She would have snarled at him for that if she didn’t think that was what he wanted. “Is that a problem for you?”
He knew that she was going to tell him it was no problem. Bethan was fully aware of that. She was almost convinced she could see a cool little gleam of challenge in his gaze.
“No problems on this side,” she replied, trying to hit that samewow, you should calm down before your craziness infects the worldtone he was using. She smiled when he seemed to stiffen just the littlest bit. “As we’ve established, I’m pretty much a problem-free zone. I’m a little more concerned about you, your feelings, and what it might do to you to be in such close proximity to me.”
He wasn’t the only one who could make a patronizing tone into an art form.
Jonas didn’t laugh. It wasn’t entirely clear if he knew how. But still, Bethan thought she saw a hint of it in that dark gaze of his then, if only for an instant.
“I appreciate your concern.”
“Alaska Force is a family,” she replied. And smiled. Kindly and with even more condescension.
That gleam in his gaze intensified. “Tomorrow.”
And then he’d left her there, fully convinced that he meant that to sound like a threat. That itwasa threat.
Not that there was anything she could do about it, except fume. There was no complaining to Isaac, as that would be as good as announcing that she and Jonas really did havepersonal issues requiringmediation, of all things. When Bethan had no intention of acknowledging that there was an issue, much less attempting tomediateit. The very idea made her shudder.
Jonas had boxed her in pretty well, she had to admit. What she couldn’t figure out waswhy.
That evening, she jumped on one of the boats heading into Grizzly Harbor. Blue navigated the skiff around the jutting edge of the rocky coast, nimbly picking his way through the treacherous water like the navy man he was. And when they made their way into the main harbor on the island, Bethan forgot, for a moment, the enduring issue that was Jonas Crow.
She gazed out at the pretty fishing village that waited for her instead. Because she’d seen it almost two years ago and fallen in love at first sight. She’d stood out on the deck of the ferry as a summer day made the whole island sparkle, caught her breath, and that had been that.
Fool’s Cove was quiet, tucked away on the other side of the island. Seaplanes came and went in accordance with Alaska Force’s mission plans, but that was the only version of traffic they had. Sometimes they used the helicopter for faster response times. And there were a lot of satellite dishes around to keep them linked in despite being in the middle of nowhere.
In comparison, Grizzly Harbor was the height of civilization. There were no real streets, but there were enough people here that there were dirt paths and wooden boardwalks to connect the brightly painted, if often peeling, buildings. There was a general store, a post office, and the Blue Bear Inn. Other little shops that sold curiosities or fishing supplies or both. Tourists came here in the summers, though never in high numbers, as the island was off the Inside Passage cruise, and throughout the year the citizens threw themselves festivals, wallowed in the natural hot springs on the trail out of town, and built as tightly knita community as was possible when everyone was a rugged individualist who liked their own company and space, or they wouldn’t be living on an island off the coast of Alaska in the first place.
Grizzly Harbor boasted a couple of restaurants, assuming a person counted the hearty, down-to-earth food in the Fairweather—the dive bar in town that was also the only bar in town. And the scenic harbor wasn’t just for show—it was used by the fishermen who lived there and was a stop along the Alaska Marine Highway, where a person could catch a ferry that could take them all over the state’s coastline and down into the Lower 48, too.
Blue moored the boat at the docks and then they made their way up the hill toward the community center, where Blue headed up the weekly self-defense class. Bethan loved that the local women had taken to it. Rumor was, some of them had even used the techniques they’d learned in class when necessary, which just... made her happy.
Bethan had taken intensive training in self-defense methods on a much higher level and had a smattering of martial arts in her background, but she loved nothing more than teaching regular women that they weren’t helpless. That they could fight back. And more, she loved that civilian women were always filled with what-ifs. That they typically had no trouble whatsoever stopping class to ask about the various scenarios they imagined, so Blue could show them what they could do to fight off their nightmares.
It was fun. And just the kind of fun that Bethan liked most, rough-and-tumble and dangerous besides.
She sometimes wished she could go back in time and tell the little girl she’d been that despite what her mother told her in tones of despair, it was okay to play rough. It was okay to be a girl who wanted to be tough and physical like the boys.
It was okay that she’d always liked playing with guns better than dolls.
“We’re all going to the Fairweather,” Everly said whenself-defense class was done. She nudged Caradine with her elbow when she said it, and Bethan was surprised that the deeply aloof owner of the Water’s Edge Café not only allowed it but didn’t actively scowl. Was that what taking her relationship with Isaac public had done for her? Made her more approachable?