Chapter 1
Emma closed the back of her truck after putting a cooler inside and leaned against the side. It was just past five in the morning, and she was waiting for her friend Susie to meet her. She glanced at her tiny cabin for a long moment. Just looking at it made her smile. It was tiny and whimsical – a cedar sided A-frame with a bright green roof and purple trim, complete with a purple star at the point of the A-frame. It sat in a small open area amongst spruce and alder. The hill tumbled down behind it, offering a wide-open view of Kachemak Bay. She’d been in Diamond Creek, Alaska for almost three years.
The sun was rising behind the mountains across the bay, streaks of gold and pink reaching into the sky and filtering through the wispy clouds that sat above the mountains this morning. The air was cool and crisp, typical for an Alaskan summer morning. When the sun was high, the chill would dissipate. A faded blue Subaru pulled into the driveway. Susie climbed out of her car, grabbed some fishing gear and walked to Emma’s truck.
“Morning! Sorry I’m late,” Susie said. Emma reached over and took a fishing rod out of Susie’s hands.
Susie was her sister’s best friend and had become a dear friend to Emma. Emma couldn’t help but smile at Susie. She was a petite bundle of energy and enthusiasm. Susie’s head almost reached Emma’s shoulder as she barely topped five feet, and Emma was just shy of six feet. Susie had warm brown eyes and unruly brown curls, which were pulled back into a ponytail this morning.
Emma lifted the window to the back of her truck and placed Susie’s gear in the back. “You’re not late. We said sometime before five fifteen. How’s it going?” Emma asked.
Susie tossed her bag in the truck and looked over with a grin. “I’m ready to catch some fish! Promise we can get coffee at Red Truck on the way by though.”
Emma nodded. “Of course. How could we not?”
* * *
“Okay, so why are we going to Homer to fish when we could just as easily fish in Diamond Creek?” Emma asked from the backseat. She and Susie had met her sister Hannah at the harbor parking lot for the drive to Homer. Emma took a sip of her coffee, savoring the rich flavor.
“Because Homer has the Fishing Hole,” Susie said as if that explained everything.
“What’s the big deal with the Fishing Hole?” Emma asked in return.
Hannah turned to look over her shoulder from the passenger seat. “It’s a man-made fishing hole that’s stocked with kings, pinks and silvers. It’s a fishing dream if you want to stock up on salmon. That’s why we’re going. It’s not quite as fun as dipnetting, but it’s close.”
Emma nodded, thinking for a moment. She’d quickly learned that the words king, pink, red and silver related primarily to salmon in Alaska. Though she’d been in Alaska several years now, she’d yet to enjoy every possible fishing or outdoor activity because the options were extensive. “So how come every town doesn’t have a fishing hole?”
Susie and Hannah shrugged in unison. “Who knows? Maybe because Homer has an ideal spot. The Homer Spit is an easy place to do what they did. It sticks so far out into the bay. There’s nothing like it anywhere else in Alaska. So when we want to get a jumpstart on salmon, we go to Homer. Dipnetting fills the rest of the freezer after that.”
As Susie drove and kept chatting with Hannah, Emma watched the landscape roll by. Homer was roughly an hour south of Diamond Creek. Homer was another tourist draw in Alaska, dubbed the Halibut Capital of the World. Emma was accustomed to the jaw-dropping views in Alaska, but had yet to lose her amazement. The highway hugged the coastline with view after view of mountains, a few glaciers and beautiful ocean vistas. Occasionally, an eagle or moose would make an appearance. Today, they’d already driven by a mother moose and her calf nibbling on alders by the road.
Not much later, Emma lugged a cooler in one hand with a fishing pole in the other. While she’d become proficient at fishing, she was by no means an expert. She hadn’t even had to buy her own equipment because Hannah’s husband and his two brothers ran a guide business. They geared her up the first summer she arrived. The Fishing Hole on the Homer Spit was a sight to behold. For starters, the Homer Spit was a narrow ‘spit’ of land that jutted four and a half miles into Kachemak Bay. The road on the Homer Spit was the longest road into ocean waters in the world. Driving out onto the Spit felt like driving on a bridge, except that it was a narrow expanse of land. Arriving at the Fishing Hole, Emma was startled at how busy it was. Parking was a competitive sport. Every inch of shoreline that surrounded the Fishing Hole was filled with people.
Emma had no idea how they’d manage to find a place to fish, but she gamely followed Susie and Hannah. As they approached the shoreline, Emma discovered that space was to be had among the constant shifting of the crowd. In minutes, she geared up in her waders and dropped a lure in the water. The next hour passed in a blur. According to Susie and Hannah, silver salmon were their goal for today and between them, they caught two apiece in short order.
Emma lifted her fishing rod to cast again and felt a tug on the line. She froze.
“Hey! That’s my hat!”
Emma turned, scanning the cluster nearby to find the source of the voice. Her eyes landed on a small boy with stick straight brown hair, holding a baseball hat that appeared to be attached to her fishing lure. She was relieved to see that he was laughing and looking up at a man beside him, so she assumed he wasn’t hurt. She walked over, carrying her fishing pole.
“Hey there, I think I may be the one that caught your hat,” Emma said with a smile.
The little boy tilted his head back to look up at her. Emma looked down into his eyes, a rich brown with gold flecks.
“Dad, she caught my hat!” the boy said, almost gleefully. He seemed overjoyed at the accident. Emma was just relieved he hadn’t been hurt.
The man the boy spoke to had his back to them when Emma walked over. He turned, and Emma’s heart leapt. The boy’s father was tall with dark hair flecked with silver and had the same chocolate brown eyes as his son. When he looked down at his son, a grin flashed across his face. When he saw Emma, his gaze shifted quickly to a more serious, almost austere look. His features were strong and sharp, his eyes intelligent and probing. Emma wished for his smile to return. With those eyes and that smile, all she felt was a primal pull. Her stomach fluttering and pulse skittering, she didn’t speak.
Befuddled, it took Emma a moment to realize that she was staring and hadn’t said a word. The man, whose mere presence had reached into the center of her and grabbed hold, walked closer and held out his hand. “Hello there, I’m Trey.”
Emma’s hand moved of its own accord. She thought for sure anyone nearby would see the sparks that struck when he clasped her hand, but no one appeared to notice. “I’m Emma,” she replied.
Trey gave her hand a firm shake, holding on perhaps a moment too long, his eyes questioning. “Looks like you caught Stuart’s hat,” he said when she didn’t say anything else.
Emma finally brought her attention to the moment though her heart was beating so hard she worried he might be able to hear it. “I guess I did. I’m sorry. I was trying to cast carefully.”
Stuart looked up from fiddling with the fishing hook caught in his baseball hat. “There’s way lots of people!”
Trey’s smile returned. Emma realized she finally understood what it meant to swoon because she feared she might just do that. She had to pull herself together and now.
Trey glanced down at Stuart. “How about you hand me that hat? Don’t want you catching your fingers on the hook,” he said.
Stuart handed the hat over, immediately looking back up at Emma. “Have you ever caught a hat before?” he asked, his smile made more endearing by the missing tooth in front.
“Not that I know of. I’m just glad your hat is all I caught.”
“No harm done. I’d bet something that’s not a fish gets hooked here every day. It’s so crowded,” Trey said. He glanced up as he finished working the hook out of the hat. “There you go,” he said, handing the lure back to Emma.
His fingers brushed hers, the barest touch eliciting another jolt within Emma. She felt hot all over, a blush heating her as it bloomed on her neck and face.
She didn’t want to walk away and had no idea what to say. For a second, she thought she saw an answering flare in Trey’s eyes, but he shuttered it quickly, that serious look returning.
“Thank you,” Emma finally said.
Silence lengthened between them, broken by Stuart’s enthusiastic voice. “Dad, can I catch one more fish before we go?” he asked. He walked to the small cooler nearby and peered into it.
Trey held Emma’s gaze for another moment before finally breaking away, glancing over his shoulder toward Stuart. “One more and that’s it,” he replied.
Turning back to Emma, his lips quirked in an almost smile. “Stuart loves to fish. He’d stay here all day every day if I let him.”
Emma nodded politely, the wheels of her mind turning, wondering who Stuart’s mother was, wanting desperately to know more about Trey and realizing she needed to get a grip. She looked back up into Trey’s eyes. Her blush just wouldn’t quit. She forced herself to speak. “Well, nice to meet you. Glad Stuart’s hat is okay.” Lifting her hand in a polite wave, she started to walk away.
Trey’s voice halted her steps. “Nice to meet you too.”
Emma turned back, that flare she thought she’d seen in Trey’s eyes definitely there this time, his eyes darker and brighter. Flustered, her words stumbled. “Oh…okay.” She turned away, almost running back to where Susie and Hannah were fishing.
Her face still flushed, Emma quickly got her line back in the water, appreciating the bustle around her.
“So you hooked Stuart Holden’s hat, huh?” Susie asked. Susie was situated on the shore between Emma and Hannah.
“Sure did. It was an accident—obviously,” Emma replied.
“Stuart’s dad is one of the best pilots around. He runs a wilderness flightseeing business and also has a law practice on the side,” Susie said with a wink.
“Oh god, no. He’s a lawyer?”
Susie gave her an odd look. “Yeah, not sure why that’s a bad thing. They moved to Diamond Creek about a year after you did. I don’t know Trey well, just as an acquaintance. Even though they’ve lived in Diamond Creek for a while now, he’s not out and about much.”
“I’m glad my hook only landed in Stuart’s hat,” Emma said, her blush returning just thinking about Trey.
Emma felt Susie look toward her. She hoped Susie didn’t notice how flushed she was.
“Wow, you are blushing. What does that mean?” Susie asked slyly.
Emma tried and failed to un-blush, which only flustered her more.
“I think you might have noticed that Trey’s a bit handsome. Trust me, you’re not the only one. He’s widowed and has his share of women drooling over him. I mean, he’s hot, he’s a pilot, and he’s prime marrying age at forty. Rumor is that he moved to Diamond Creek to start his flightseeing tours because he’s a single dad now and needed more time with his son. I guess he used to be pretty busy doing the lawyer thing in Anchorage. The only reason you haven’t heard about him is that he’s not seen in public enough to blip on the gossip radar,” Susie said with a chuckle.
Emma heard only that Trey was widowed and her mind was off to the races, prodded by the undeniable pull she felt toward him. She didn’t even notice she hadn’t bothered to respond to Susie.
“Hannah, your sister’s gone gaga over Trey Holden,” Susie said, leaning in front of Emma to catch Hannah’s attention.
Hannah was busy reeling in another silver salmon and glanced over with a wide smile. “You don’t say?”
“Oh my god, Susie. I met the man for maybe three minutes. I will admit he’s handsome, but I’m not gaga,” Emma retorted.
“Coulda fooled me. As soon as I told you he was widowed, you were in fantasyland over there.”
Emma’s blush deepened. After a moment, she gave in and laughed. “Think whatever you want,” she remarked.
Susie’s curls shook with her laughter. Hannah glanced over to Emma as she placed the silver salmon she’d caught in their cooler. “Good luck. Once Susie’s on the scent, she’s hard to shake. If you want her to stay out of your business, you’d better play your cards close.”
Emma shrugged. “It’s okay. I can deal with nosy friends. Just don’t go and embarrass me in front of him,” she warned.
“Fat chance of that. Like I said, he’s not around much. If you do have the hots for him, you have your work cut out for you,” Susie replied. Her gaze sobered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Trey without Stuart at his side. I don’t know for sure, but I heard his wife died from some heart problem. He doesn’t seem too interested in a relationship.”
Emma absorbed the information Susie provided and looked over to where Trey and Stuart were standing. He was bending over to help Stuart untangle his fishing line. Susie let her off the hook from further teasing, and Emma found herself strangely disappointed because she didn’t get to hear more about Trey.
Within the hour, they were jostling for space at the cleaning tables. Before they headed home to Diamond Creek, she got one more view of Trey when she saw him walking with Stuart, Stuart’s small hand clasped in one of his hands and a cooler in the other. The sparks he elicited were so strong she couldn’t ignore them. She wondered if she’d completely lost her mind. At thirty-four, she’d written off any chance of a relationship after her first marriage ended, which had been nothing short of a disaster. She hadn’t counted on anyone making her second guess herself.
* * *
Emma gestured for Susie to walk into the cabin first. Susie had persuaded her to take some of her mother’s extra zucchini and insisted she needed to get it out of her car today. Emma’s cat, Sula, whom she had gotten from the local shelter, slipped in the door with them, sashaying around their feet and rubbing against Emma’s legs. Sula was a small, but feisty cat. She was black and white, her fur soft and luxurious. Susie plunked the zucchini on the counter and gave Sula a quick pet while Emma shifted items around in her freezer to fit today’s salmon catch. The inside of the cabin was open and bright. The downstairs consisted of an open living room and kitchen area with a bathroom to the back. The front wall was nothing but windows, a great feature in the long Alaskan winters. A spiral staircase led upstairs, which included a loft area that was furnished with a desk, two reading chairs, and built-in bookshelves lining the walls. A door upstairs led to the single bedroom. A small deck overlooked the bay in the back.
“So you said you had a plan for all this?” Emma asked, gesturing to the zucchini Susie was already washing in the sink.
“You get to choose. We shred it in a food processor, or we just slice it up. Either way, we freeze it. What’s your preference?”
Emma shrugged. Sula leapt softly onto one of the stools by the counter between the kitchen and living room and looked solemnly at Emma before she began cleaning her feet.
Susie’s ponytail came loose when she tilted her head to the side, rolling her eyes. “You have to have an opinion. Come to think of it, you hardly ever seem to have an opinion. Have I mentioned that before?” Susie asked with a knowing smile.
Emma returned Susie’s eye roll. “You have, in fact, pointed that out. I would argue I do have opinions, but I’m just not as outspoken as you. I mean, you’re…you.”
“Well, duh. Of course, I’m me. And I know most people would consider me outspoken. I’m just saying that unless someone prods you into it, you don’t offer your opinion.” Susie said with a shrug.
Susie was right, and Emma knew it. What she didn’t want to get into was that she’d developed the habit of keeping her thoughts and opinions to herself when she’d been married. It was just easier that way. Rather than getting into that with Susie, Emma thought for a moment about what she wanted to do with the zucchini.
“Shred it,” she said firmly. “My mom used to make casseroles with it like that.”
“And I can give you my mom’s awesome zucchini bread recipe. Where’s your food processor?” Susie asked, immediately on task.
A few hours later, Emma sat on her back deck and watched the sun set over Kachemak Bay. Susie had helped her get the zucchini shredded and ready to freeze before taking off. The sun was falling in the long, slow slide of summer sunsets in Alaska. It was going on nine at night and the light was just beginning to fade. The mountains across the bay were darkening as the pink orb of the sun slid behind them—lavender, pink and gold rays arced into the sky. Diamond Creek was a small town in Southcentral Alaska on the Kenai Peninsula. The town was situated on the shores of Kachemak Bay, one of Alaska’s most treasured coastal areas. It was famous for its breathtaking beauty, which included ocean views, mountains on all sides, glaciers, and volcanoes in the distance. Mount Augustine was the lone volcano that sat beyond the entrance to Kachemak Bay in Cook Inlet, the long inlet that stretched inland from the Pacific Ocean to Anchorage.
Along with its beauty, Kachemak Bay and Diamond Creek offered world-class fishing and hunting, which drew tourists from all over the world. What could have been a quiet, middle of nowhere town had phenomenal restaurants, art galleries and a busy social life. Year-round residents were tight-knit. Emma had been welcomed into the community of Diamond Creek, her acceptance eased by her connection to Hannah who’d grown up here.
Emma took a last look at the view. She was still adjusting to the joy of not feeling tied up in knots inside, which is how she’d felt for most of her marriage—the marriage that had thankfully ended before she moved to Alaska. The sense of home and freedom she felt here was such a blessing it overwhelmed her at times. When she walked the spiral staircase into the loft, Sula was seated on the railing and leapt down to follow her into the bedroom.