Refuge Cove (New Americana 2)

The more she understood about her situation, the safer she would be. She might even decide to be sensible and leave. Either way, there was no getting around it—it was time for him to come clean about his relationship to the Swenson family.

“If I’m going to stay here, I’ll need a job and a safe place to live,” she said. “I can’t expect to be your uninvited houseguest forever. And I can’t expect you to chauffeur me into town every day.”

“You might be safer with me,” he said.

“Maybe. But I’d be putting you in danger, as well as imposing on your privacy. Lend me a pocket-sized pistol and teach me to shoot it. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

Brave talk, he thought. But she wasn’t a big girl, and her spunk, even with a gun, wouldn’t be enough to fend off a man like Boone—especially if his mother and brother were to get involved.

“Let’s take it slow for now,” he said. “Twenty-four hours ago you were still with Boone. Things have changed a lot since then. You’ll need time to settle in and learn your way around. For starters, since we’ve both finished eating, let’s go for a walk. Come on.”

Since downtown Ketchikan was small enough to explore on foot, they’d parked in the lot by the empty cruise docks on Front Street. He guided her up the slope to the Creek Street Historic District, with its colorful Gold Rush era shops, restaurants, boardwalks, and bridges that crisscrossed the rushing water. With the cruise season over, the crowds were gone, and some businesses were already closed. It was a peaceful place now, perfect for a quiet walk.

John played tour guide while he wrestled with the hard truths he needed to tell her. “This was a wild neighborhood back in the day,” he said. “Especially during Prohibition—gambling, liquor, sporting ladies, you name it. There’s a hidden path off to your left, over that bridge.” He pointed. “It’s called Married Man’s Trail. The men used it to cut through the woods from their homes so they wouldn’t be caught going back and forth.”

“For shame!” Her laugh was warm and real. John liked the sound of it. He wouldn’t have minded hearing it again. But she wouldn’t be laughing when she heard what he had to say.

They came to a sheltered spot at the back of a shop, where a bridge overlooked a tumbling waterfall. A bench stood next to the wooden railing. “Sit down,” he said. “I’ve got something to tell you. Something you need to know before you make plans to stay in Ketchikan.”

“What is it?” She lowered herself to the end of the bench, a puzzled expression on her pert face. “Is something wrong?”

“That depends on you. Just hear me out.” He sat on the other end of the bench, leaving a polite distance between them.

“Earlier, in the plane, you asked me if I’d ever been to the Swenson place. I told you I had.”

“Yes, and you were very mysterious about it.”

“What I didn’t tell you was that, at the time I was there, I was married to Boone’s sister.”

He watched the shock sink in. Her face paled. Her lips parted. Although she hadn’t moved, it was as if she’d shrunk away from him. “Tell me the rest,” she said in a small, cold voice. “All of it.”

“We were in high school. Boone and I were seniors. Marlena was a year younger, prettiest girl in the whole school. I was one of a dozen boys who had a crush on her. But I was one of the quiet kids who didn’t get noticed much. When she asked me to the Spring Social I was stupefied—didn’t even have a suit to wear. But we managed to have a good time. I had a bottle of whiskey in the car—I’d started drinking before my mother died, and was hitting it pretty heavy by then. To cut to the chase, we both got drunk, and I got her pregnant.

“Boone beat me up pretty bad when he found out. I didn’t even fight back. Figured I deserved it. After that we had a shotgun wedding and went to live with her mother and Ezra in the bush. Boone came home, too. They all hated me—not only for what I’d done to Marlena, but just because I was Tlingit. As soon as I could, I left and got a job in town, crewing on a fishing boat.

“After I found a place to live, Marlena came too, and brought our baby boy. But things were never good between us, with me drinking and her climbing the walls because we didn’t have enough money to go out and have fun. We lasted for a couple of years. Then she left me to marry the man I was working for—the man who owned the boat. She took the boy and got full custody. I went off the deep end for a few years, finally started with AA, pulled myself together, got my pilot’s license and bought the Beaver. . . .”

John’s voice trailed off. He had never told the full story to anyone. Now that he’d done it, he felt physically drained. He’d been looking out at the waterfall and the flock of small brown birds that dipped and darted in the spray. Now he forced himself to turn and look at Emma.

She sat absolutely still, her hands folded in her lap. In her calm expression, he caught glimpses of shock, sympathy, and wounded anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked.

“Because I didn’t expect it to matter. I thought I could talk you into leaving. You can still leave. Let me fly you out of here. I can deal with Boone when he shows up.”

“And if I choose to stay?”

“Then you’ll need to know what you’re dealing with. I’ll do my best to keep you safe, but I can’t do that unless you trust me.”

Her tightly masked emotions flared to the surface. “Why should I trust you? For heaven’s sake, the man who hurt me is your ex-brother-in-law! He’s your son’s uncle! He’s family—and you’ve only known me for a day!”

John turned to face her directly. “Look at me while I say this, Emma. These people aren’t my friends. I know Boone and what he’s capable of. If it would keep him from hurting other women the way he hurt you, I’d turn him over to the law in a heartbeat, the consequences be damned. If you don’t believe me—and if you can’t trust me to stand up for you, then you should leave—because right now, I’m all you’ve got. And there’s one thing we both know for certain—you can’t fight Boone alone.”

Standing, she tore her gaze from his and walked away, across the bridge to the other side of the creek. John didn’t try to follow her. She had no place to go, no option except to come back to him. He kept an eye on her as she stood looking down into a quiet pool below the falls, where the bodies of salmon, their lives given up for the next generation, gleamed like tarnished silver in the depths.

After several minutes she walked back to face him. “I’ve thought about what you told me,” she said. “Your story

has raised some doubts about my staying. But I’ll sleep on it and give you my decision tomorrow, after I’ve seen the judge.”