Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1 (2 page)

She paused briefly, and Brack could do nothing more than nod for her to continue. After all, her resume was impressive, if somewhat rehearsed. She was so damn blasé about her impressive accomplishments, he wanted to call her Aretha Beatrice, just for the reaction.

He’d like to see her really riled. She’d be—fiery.

Pushing the surprising thought aside, he swiped a hand over his face.

An expectant glance arched her brows before she continued with a sigh. “Okay, what else? I’ve recently rented Marilynn Hatch’s cottage on Driftwood Shore Road, will start work at Elmont High in two days, and I hate to be bored. So I’m here, hoping to be welcomed into your unit.”

Sarcasm laced the last of her words, and her eyes met his in dubious challenge. Probably a bra burner’s child. Just what he needed. “Is that all?”

“No.” She smiled. “I can’t knit or sew, and I don’t do dishes. I can’t bake or fundraise to save my life, so I have no interest in the fire department auxiliary. My firstborn belongs to me, so if you need that to gain entry in the unit I’ll check out the next town over. Oh, and I’m completely volunteer. My substitute position at the high school is temporary, and I can’t commit to a certain length of time as a member. I move. A lot.”

The last was said with a slight grin, and Brack rubbed at his temples. Had the slight pain burgeoning there started when Miss Abby Burke stepped into his office? Self-assured, over-trained, sarcastic…

Yeah, she’d fit right in with the rest of them.

Right now, fatigue made coherent thought impossible. “Well, if it all checks out, I see no reason why you can’t start right away.” He slid her file under his arm. “Come back tomorrow morning. Seven sharp.”

She gaped when he stood and walked from the room. Evidently, she didn’t like being dismissed.

Chapter Two

By the time Abby arrived at the station the next morning, her frustration had reached full boil.

Nothing had gone right from the moment she’d crawled out of bed until now. Her leg had ached the entire night, probably due to the amount of walking over the last week trying to get moved into her rental home. The only plus there was the limited amount of items she owned. Constant relocation kept her from accumulating too many possessions.

After a restless night, she’d woken to her alarm clock flashing. Somewhere in the early hours, the power had gone out, and a glance at her watch had told her she’d be late for her meeting with hotter-than-he-should-be Captain Arrogant if she didn’t hurry. When her car wouldn’t start, she’d realized it was going to be one of those days.

Now, as she closed the door of the big black SUV and waved to the kind couple who’d taken pity on her and given her a ride to the station, she cursed Murphy for his Law and for its finely tuned timing.

But the morning sun begged for her attention and she soaked it in as she surveyed her surroundings. Thick pine trees bordered the land behind the station where a small river wound through in a serpentine path. Snow covered the ground, leaving little trace of the lay of the land. A slow current had cleared the snow from the lower rocks of the river’s edge, icing the boulders and mud in a shimmering layer of crystal. Leafless branches bowed over by the weight of fresh snow sagged almost to the water’s edge. It was postcard beautiful.

Slush coated the fire station parking lot, so she walked carefully toward the white building. A large red sign with gold lettering bridged the top section of the firehouse. Beneath it hung an old-fashioned fire bell. Near the front bay doors, several signs leaned against the building. The closest one was hand-painted in blue and gold. It read,
Cub Scout Christmas Tree Sale
.

The word
quaint
came to mind, and she stifled a laugh.
Quaint? Who said quaint anymore?

Her fingers slipped over the brass doorknob. It wouldn’t budge. She stepped back, unable to see lights through the numerous small windows that lined the building.

“Brack’s always down at the boat landing this time of the morning.” The young, blond woman—
shit, what was her name?—
leaned out of the SUV window. “You said you had a meeting with Captain Elliot, right?”

“Yes.” The ass. “Which way to the landing?”

The woman’s husband motioned to the backseat again. “Hop in. It’s only up around the corner a ways.”

“No, really, you’ve been very kind.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s a beautiful day. If you’d point me in the right direction, I’d love to walk.”

After the woman gave her directions, the couple pulled out of the parking lot with a wave. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Abby set off down the road.

For a small town, the traffic surprised her. More than that was the constant waves and horns that honked as vehicles passed. She’d never been in such a friendly place.

She turned onto the road the SUV couple had pointed out and sighed. The ocean was a line of blue in the distance. Their idea of just down the road a bit was much different from hers.

We’ll never know what adventures wait for us unless we go find them…

Her mother’s voice filled her mind, and she smiled. How many times had her mother said those words in the years they’d traveled? She’d lost count by the age of five, a time when she’d enjoyed their moves. Now, thoughts of her mother held only sadness, and she shook away the oppressive shroud of latent memories.

A new place, a new start. No room for the old. She’d enjoy the time she had here. A week, a month, whatever time she had before she’d have to leave again.

Pulling her hair into a tight ponytail, she started out at a slow jog. The tangy scent of the ocean filled the early-morning air. Gravel crunched beneath her feet, and her heartbeat drummed in her ears.

A broad, weathered sign pointed to the public landing a few minutes later as the trees and houses opened up to a beautiful stretch of ocean. Waves broke on huge boulders, whitewashed from the salt and sun. Seagulls streaked the blue sky, dipping down to scoop small creatures from the surf. Boats of various sizes and colors rocked lazily on the water’s surface, and after watching for several minutes, she realized the men aboard were pulling traps from the depths. Small buoys painted in an array of colors danced on the swells like floating candles.

The parking lot to the public landing sloped down to a large dock. Pulleys and fuel tanks lined one side of the weathered dock while rectangular traps with mesh netting inside them lined the other side and littered the wharf. In the bay, several large square floats hosted more stacks of traps.

Brack sat at the end of a smaller ramp, his back to her. The broad set of his shoulders and dark head created a shadow behind him on the boards. A large dog sat next to him, its golden fur tossed by the slight breeze. Neither Brack nor the dog moved, their gazes focused out over the water. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the two, and yet she sensed sadness, a poignant solitude to their silent vigil.

Damn. She hated to interrupt his peaceful moment. There were so few in life. But hadn’t the SUV couple said he was here every morning? She glanced at her watch. Seven twenty? She tapped it and put it to her ear. The soft tick of the second hand sounded even and true.

Seven twenty? He must have left at a minute after seven. Peaceful moment or not, if the man was going to be an asshole and leave her sitting in his office the night before, then take off this morning when she was a minute late, he didn’t deserve any peace.

She trudged down the dock with deliberate heavy steps.

Brack stared out at his boat. The slow rocking motion always settled his mind and opened the firmly locked doors of the past. He could still see Ellen’s face, her eyes closed as she stretched out in the sun. Her dark hair whipping her face as she smiled at Jeremy and Jonathon’s antics in the water. The days they’d spent slicing through the cool summer ocean filled his mind. Those were good times…

The rumble of footsteps on the dock shook Brack from his reverie. He reached out to pat Jo on the head, the warm pant of his morning companion a center for his shaky subconscious. “Thanks for keeping me company, Jo. You’d better get to work. Looks like everyone is out to haul today.”

The dog trotted off, and a moment later, Brack saw him take up his normal position near the wharf’s hoist. The dog waited there daily until his owner came back in from the haul.

“Excuse me, Captain.”

Aretha Beatrice Yolanda Burke’s voice broke the silence of his morning, and he chuckled. What a horrid name for such an attractive woman. He’d read her file early this morning, unable to contain his curiosity. Her experience was impressive, to say the least. Tons of training, several meritorious awards, top three in her class, discharged from the Coast Guard because of an injury.

But another issue seemed to follow her. In each location, each team or unit she’d been assigned to or joined, and there’d been many, the same common thread popped up. She bucked authority—and good.

“Good morning, Ms. Burke. Glad to see you finally made it around to our meeting.” He glanced at his watch. “Only twenty minutes late.”

“My car wouldn’t start.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t have been more than a minute or two late if you’d waited at the station.”

“A minute or two is all it takes for something to happen.”

She walked around to block his view of the water. “What could possibly happen because I was late?”

He leaned slightly to the side, trying to see around her. When she blocked his view again, he settled back against the railing. “I didn’t say anything would. I just had an interesting read this morning while I waited for you to
not
show up. Your file was thick. Seems you have a problem with authority.”

“I showed up. You just weren’t there.” She shook her head, brows furrowed. “And I only have issues with authority when it tries to stop me from doing my job.”

Her immediate ire worried him. “Why so defensive?”

“You don’t know me and yet you’ve judged me? Why wouldn’t that bother me?”

“I judge what I see.” He picked up his coffee mug and sipped at the lukewarm brew. “You’re already pissed off that I’m questioning you about your past, yet I wouldn’t be much of a captain if I didn’t check out the men and women who want to join the team.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not pissed about that. I’m pissed that you didn’t wait two extra minutes—”

“Your file—” he interrupted to continue with his thoughts, “—is laced with incidents of you doing exactly what you wanted against direct orders from your superior commanders. Civilian teams and in the Coast Guard.”

“With good outcomes each time,” she countered. “And glowing recommendations from my superiors.”

Brack pushed up from the dock, stretching his stiff back. He let his gaze move down over the jeans hugging her trim legs, deliberately keeping his eyes off the enticing curve of her ass. The injury she’d sustained in her last Coast Guard rescue didn’t seem to have any obvious lingering effects. Maybe that was why she considered a near-death insignificant. “I’d say breaking your leg in three places and nearly drowning is anything but a good outcome.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” She held her hands out and motioned at her body.

She didn’t have to point out what he was already having a hard time keeping his eyes off. If she had any idea, she’d probably smack him. “Yeah, you’re here.”

“And I think my records show I’m no worse for it. That, to me, is a good outcome.”

“You were lucky.” Her confidence was unnerving. He didn’t need another hothead to look after. And a hothead she was. Her near refusal to leave the scene last night was proof of that.

“No, I’m just good at what I do. Everything has risks involved.” She waved a hand out at the ocean. “I could fall off this dock, bang my head and drown just as easily. Why not go doing something I enjoy?”

Angry with her refusal to see the foolishness in that way of thinking, he brushed by her to walk up the ramp. “Better to be careful, follow orders and live a bit longer, if you ask me.”

She jogged past him and waited at the top. “Apples and oranges, Captain. Your way and my way are different. That doesn’t mean we can’t work together. I’m good at what I do. My files must have said that as well.”

They had. She came highly recommended despite her mishaps. But she exemplified everything that went against order, in his life and in his station. He closed the distance between them, holding her unwavering stare—ignoring the vanilla scent of her windblown hair. “You’re not a team player, Ms. Burke. If you want to be a part of my station, you have to play by my rules.”

“Your station? Your rules?” She locked her hands on either side of the ramp railings. “Last time I checked, the sign said
Brighton Fire and Rescue
, not
Elliot Control
.”

Point proven. He pushed past her for a second time and walked the short path to his house. Her soft muttering followed him. When he reached the porch he turned to face her. “I stand corrected.” At her smirk of satisfaction, he added, “You have a
serious
problem with authority.”

Though a flash of incredulity narrowed her eyes, she recovered quickly. “Only when it borders on a God complex.”

Stubborn, fiery, passionate… He bit back a chuckle at her quick wit. “My team doesn’t need you or your problems with following orders. Whether you think I have a God complex or not, if you plan to be part of this team, you’ll follow the rules and orders to the letter. No questions. No deviations. Nothing that hints of dissension, or you’ll find yourself right back out on your ass. Our discipline has kept anyone from getting hurt for years now, and I won’t have you mucking that up.”