Page 25 of Alaskan Blackout
Aboard theUn-Reeltwo weeks later, McKenna breathed a sigh of relief to be safely docked back in Dutch Harbor.
Home at last.
Flipping off the navigation lights as she killed the power to the motor, she thanked the dockhands who’d helped her secure the vessel as twilight had turned to dark. The pair hustled off to help another latecomer to their boat slip, a pleasure watercraft based out of Vancouver that she’d spotted two other times on her trip to Attu and back.
Bone weary, she scarcely had the energy to finish her checklist of duties to secure the Hewescraft for the night, but she followed the steps mechanically, eager to return home. Her thirteen-day planned venture had been delayed overnight for weather, keeping her away even longer than scheduled. At least she was alone now after seeing the birding group safely back to Adak Island to catch their flights to Anchorage. The trawler yacht and her crew had set anchor there as well, so McKenna had been on her own to continue the rest of the way to Dutch Harbor.
After the two weeks surrounded by other people, she didn’t mind being by herself again. Although, as she locked the cabin door behind her for the night, she couldn’t help but recall the last time she’d pulled up to the same boat slip, Quinton had been there waiting for her.
Quinton.
Her fingers paused in the middle of locking the hatch where she kept spare life vests, thoughts of him rolling over her like a rogue wave. Memories of their last encounter were never far from her mind during the trip. Especially during the latter half of the journey when a missed period had sent her into a panic. At the westernmost end of the Aleutian Islands, there had been no place to run into a convenience store for Plan B birth control since Attu was uninhabited.
The possibility that she could even now be carrying Quinton’s child staggered her. By the time she got back to Adak Island, the window for Plan B effectiveness had passed and the thought of buying a pregnancy test was too daunting. She’d thought they had been careful that night they’d been together. So maybe the stress of the storm and carrying Clay’s secrets around had simply made her period late.
Thinking of her brother reminded her she hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. The number for his satellite phone had shown up in a missed call recently, but the spotty tower coverage on her trip hadn’t allowed her to even message him back. Sinking to one of the built-in benches that circled the stern of theUn-Reel, she withdrew her cell from the waterproof waist pack she kept it in while on the water. The night air was cool and damp against her face as she dialed a number she knew from memory. The wind—about sixteen miles an hour all day according to the anemometer gauge on her display panel—blew strands of hair free from a ponytail she’d already reworked a few times.
The number rang twice before a familiar masculine voice sounded on the other end. Her stepbrother.
“McKenna.” Her name rushed from him like a gusty sigh. “I’ve been worried about you ever since the storm. Is everything okay?”
A burst of love for Clayton made her eyes burn. There wasn’t another soul in the world who would be concerned if something happened to her, since her father didn’t even bother to keep track of her.
Although, at least for the duration of the storm, Quinton had worried about her too. She tamped down the thoughts of him that would only derail her when she wanted to focus on Clay.
“Everything is fine. Sorry I didn’t check in sooner.” She leaned a shoulder against the built-in refrigerator unit that only saw use on fishing trips. She drew her feet up onto the bench to make herself more comfortable. Around her, a few of the other vessels had their interior lights on, as some of the folks docking for the night weren’t locals and would bed down aboard their crafts. The smatter of lighted crafts made the harbor feel sort of homey. In fact, she felt a far deeper kinship with these Alaskan adventurers who could tough out any storm than she ever had with the neighbors she’d had back in San Francisco. “High winds took off some siding on the house, but other than that, damage was minimal. Both the boat and the bar were untouched.”
Thank goodness. After all Clayton had done for her when her life went off the rails, giving her a safe place to land, she couldn’t bear the idea of his property coming to harm on her watch.
“Screw the boat and the bar, Kenna,” he scolded, using his old nickname for her. His breath huffed heavily and she could hear intermittent crunching noises that made her guess he walked through deep snow. “I was worried about you. For all I knew, you could have been out on the water when the worst of it hit.”
She smiled at his tender concern for her while her gaze wandered to a young family playing cards at a table inside their cabin cruiser in a slip across from hers. Two little girls and an older boy. The warm tableau was a far cry from her conversation with her brother—her on an open deck in the wind, on the phone with a sibling deep in the Alaskan Interior—but the sense of family was the same. And she was deeply grateful for it.
If she really was carrying Quinton’s child, she would need the emotional support of family more than ever. But she wouldn’t think about that now. Not until she knew for certain.
“Thankfully, I was safely back at home during the thick of the bad weather.” She’d been oblivious to most of it, in fact, taking shelter in Quinton’s arms and wondering if she’d ever again feel as good as he made her feel.
If only it hadn’t ended with his rapid retreat the next morning.
“So what kept you from returning my call? Is everything else all right?”
Loaded question. Her hand went to her belly even though she had no intention of sharing news of a pregnancy she hadn’t even confirmed yet. But she couldn’t hold back the other news from Clay. It would be disloyal to the person who’d been her rock when she’d arrived in Unalaska humiliated and furious about the video and all the ways it had torpedoed her life. She’d lost her concierge job at a ritzy hotel after her boss had heard about the video, claiming McKenna had become a distraction to the other employees. She’d lost friends over the stupid thing too.
“Your brother is in town,” she confided in a low voice, even though there were no people around. Darkness had fallen full over the harbor, but the dock lights allowed her to see there was no one visible on the closest wharf. “Looking for you.”
For a moment, he didn’t speak. The crunching noises halted on his end of the call, though his breath continued to come heavily. “Which one?”
“Quinton.” She knew there were two others—Levi, who was close in age to Clay, and Gavin, the youngest. But she’d never met them, her sense of the Kingsley family limited to what Clay had told her and her own impressions of Quinton. “He showed up at the Cyclone Shack since that’s the last good information he had regarding your location.”
“Ah damn. It would have to be Quint, wouldn’t it?” Clay let out a harsh laugh.
A sense of warning prickled over her skin at his tone. She straightened in her seat and then stood, scooping up her keys. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean it’s only a matter of time before he finds me,” he said dryly. His steps had resumed. Faster now.
The conversation made her edgy. She paced the open deck, knowing Clayton had his reasons for wanting to avoid his family, but she’d never been clear on why. “Why would you think that? He’ll never find out from me.”
An ache went through her at the thought of being disloyal to him. Had she betrayed his trust by sleeping with Quinton?