All That Glitters: First Chapter

Chapter One

Even her suitcase was conspiring to make her life hell.

Ava Faraday stared down at the jumbled mess of clothes at her feet.  Then she glared at the now-useless latch on her weathered carry-on.  Who had ever heard of a suitcase lock springing open like that?

She fought back the hysterical, helpless laughter that threatened to bubble out of her.  She hadn’t even been back in Nome for a full day, and already things were going sideways.  Flashing her underwear collection to half the town’s male population was hardly the homecoming she’d had in mind.

With as much dignity as she could muster, Ava began collecting her clothes.  It was all she could do to ignore the wagging eyebrows and not-so-subtle whistles from the men working the docks around her.  What the hell was she doing here?  It had been years since she’d considered coming back.  She’d convinced herself there was no point; everything she wanted lay in front of her, not behind.

Ava swiped a strand of black hair from her eyes.  It was that damn letter.

She hadn’t been surprised to find out her father was in trouble.  She couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t needed to borrow money from someone or the other.  And she hadn’t really cared.  Lord knew she didn’t owe him anything.

Yet here she was, in a place she didn’t know anymore, looking for a man she wasn’t even sure she’d recognize.  Something about that letter had drawn her back.  Maybe it was the tone.  Maybe it was the memories it conjured up.  Not all of them were bad.

Then again, maybe she was just out of places to run to.

Ava straightened and looked around her.  The piercing blue of the water in the harbor bled into the horizon.  The sky was nearly black with guillemots, their blood red feet flashing as they looped and dove.  She’d never quite gotten over leaving this place.  She carried it all with her, in the faintly native shadows of her face, in the darker recesses of her soul.  She’d left too suddenly, and she’d always felt like there was a piece of her inadvertently left behind.

Now was her chance to find it.  When she did, maybe she'd finally be able to leave Nome for good.

Ava shoved the last of her possessions back into her suitcase and took a brief visual inventory.  It looked like everything was-

Wait.

Her cheeks reddened.  She tried to seem nonchalant as she looked around.  Of all the things to be missing…

“Lose something?”

Ava froze.  The deep, honeyed drawl reverberated through her.  She hadn’t known it was possible to actually feel someone’s voice.  Her nerve endings hummed.  She stood, and found herself eye level with the finest chest she’d ever seen.  She swallowed hard against the irritating flutter in her stomach, and looked up.  A pair of bright gray eyes twinkled back down at her.

The man was built like someone who worked for a living, broad and strong.  Under his weathered baseball cap, his sandy blond hair was slightly shaggier than was strictly respectable.  His face looked like it had been chiseled out of the same granite as the breakers in the harbor, and his lips-

Ava tore her gaze away from his lips, but not before she caught the edges twitch.  Heat flooded her face.  She opened her mouth to speak, when a flash of red caught her eye.

Dangling from one of the man’s long, perfect fingers was a pair of red lace panties.

“I’m afraid these aren’t really my color.”

Was he mocking her?  Ava snatched the underwear from him and stuffed it into her pocket.  “Thank you,” she managed through clenched teeth.

“My pleasure.”  That slow drawl left no doubt that it was.

Ava tried to ignore the warm tingle that shivered down her spine.  Reflexively, she touched the scarred guitar case propped against her leg.  Its presence was only a mild comfort against the distracting way this man was looking at her.

Why was she here again?

She straightened a bit too abruptly.  “I’m looking for Steve Faraday.  Know where I can find him?”

The man nodded.  “Sure do.  What did you say your name was?”

Ava flushed.  It was a perfectly reasonable question. Why did it feel so intimate?  Must be that voice.  She squared her shoulders.  “Ava Faraday.”  At the man’s curious expression, she added, “Steve’s daughter."

“Steve never mentioned he had a daughter.”

Ava snorted in spite of herself.  “He wouldn’t.”

His eyebrows lifted.  She bit the inside of her cheek.  What was she doing?  She had enough to worry about without adding this man to the list.  No matter how handsome he was.

She bent down and made a show of fastening the latch on her suitcase.  “Doesn’t matter.  If you’ll just tell me where he is…”

Long, strong fingers closed around the handle at the same time as hers.  Ava’s pulse leaped.  Seemingly unaware, the man lifted her bag.  “I’ll take you to him.  The Small Boat Harbor isn’t far.”  He smiled, slow and smooth.  A lopsided dimple winked at her.  “I’m Ethan.  Ethan Calhoun.”

Ava pointedly took back the bag, determined to ignore the heat that spread through her fingers when they brushed his.  “Thanks, but I need to see my father alone.  Where is he?”

Ethan seemed unfazed. “Down almost to the end of the second floating dock.  The Lucky Guess.”

Ava nodded curtly.  “Thanks.”

She turned to walk away.

“Nice to meet you, Ava Faraday.”

Ava's face heated.   She quickened her pace and put the maddening Ethan Calhoun behind her.

***

Ethan stood on the gold dredge- his gold dredge, he reminded himself- and watched water and sediment flow through the heavy box in the middle of the deck.  He closed his eyes and imagined the inside, imagined the gold trapped in the heavy sludge.  His chest tightened with pride.  It had been a long winter, and an even longer few years, but he'd finally done it.

The Lucille was his.

He’d been an outsider long enough.  He was through constantly proving and reproving himself.  Nome was his home now, the first he’d ever had.  He was ready to claim a permanent place here.  Now, at last, he had his chance.

His mind drifted to the woman he’d met on the dock.  Ava Faraday.  Everything about her warned people to back off.  Her clothes were all black leather and faded denim, her only adornment a silver and turquoise ring, the kind sold in gas stations across the Southwest.  Her expression was cold, and she carried herself like she was ready for a fight.  Even her beauty had sharp edges.  Her long ebony hair was cut like a razor blade.  Her face was sharp and fine.

But her eyes.  A milky green, they betrayed an air of vulnerability she seemed desperate to hide.

Ethan rubbed a hand over the stubble roughening his chin.  There was more to her than she wanted to let on.  He was too much of a gentleman to mention it, but he’d felt her pulse quicken when they touched.  What could she possibly be doing up here?  Nome, Alaska hardly seemed a likely first choice for someone like her.

This was a fascinating development.

The scathing wind buffeting his back returned him to the present.  Ethan glanced up at the sky and bit back a curse.  There were already too few days when the weather was nice enough to dredge.  He hated to cut this one short, but he had too much invested in the Lucille to risk losing her now.

A tanned, handsome face peered down from the steering house on the second deck.  Ethan’s lips quirked.  Not many dredges took on natives, certainly not any as young as Roo.  Their loss, as far as he was concerned.  The teenager more than pulled his weight.

He had also noticed the changing weather, and waited patiently for instructions.  Ethan nodded up at him.  Time to go.  Roo waved down to the opposite side of the barge, where his older brother Rocket was working next to Teddy, the newest dredge hand.  Rocket killed the sluice box motor and hauled up the anchor.

Teddy shut off the huge back-hoe he was operating and scrambled down from the driver’s seat.  He found Ethan in the steering house.  “Why are we stopping?” he yelled above the engine.

“Weather’s turning!” Ethan shouted back.  “Time to head in!”

Teddy looked frustrated.  “Why not just lower the spuds and stay out a little longer?”

Ethan shifted his attention to guiding the lumbering dredge back to port.  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.  We’ll get the gold, but I’m not risking this whole operation to do it.”

Teddy looked like he wanted to argue.  Then he shrugged and went to peek into the Lucille’s massive sluice box.

Ethan shook his head again.  Teddy was a greenhorn, and constantly showed it.  Still, he was one of his oldest friends.  After everything they'd been through together, he could afford to be patient.  He shrugged the tension out of his shoulders.  He had a good feeling about their haul today, even if their time on the water had been shorter than he would have liked.

His thoughts returned to Ava.  He had a good feeling about her, too.  There was something about her, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

A slow smile curved his lips.  Nome had just gotten a lot more interesting.

***

Ava tried to pay attention to where she was going, but her mind strayed.

Ethan Calhoun.  Her stomach warmed.  An image of his strong, angular face flashed through her brain.  The way he smiled with just one corner of his mouth said he’d show her a good time if she let him.

Ava scowled and put the thought out of her head.  Damn it, Nome was her chance to start over.  No way was she letting anyone wreck that chance.  The last thing she needed was to get involved with yet another person who would let her down.

It was with mixed relief that she finally spotted her father’s dredge bobbing near the end of the dock.  Ava’s brow furrowed.  It didn’t look like much more than a twisted heap of scrap metal.  Not that the other dredges at the dock looked much better.

She walked closer.  The Lucky Guess consisted of a couple pontoons barely lashed together, a museum piece of a sluice box, a pair of rusted out pumps, and an outboard motor that looked long-overdue at the junkyard.  There wasn’t even an actual housing for the steering wheel.  She looked it over skeptically.  She’d heard most of the smaller dredges were homemade, but this was ridiculous.

Just then, a vaguely familiar figure popped his head up.

She faltered.  It had been years since she’d seen her father.  She’d stopped thinking of him as a father a long time ago.  Coming back had seemed like a good idea when she bought the plane ticket.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

Her jaw firmed.  For better or worse, she was here now. She would just have to make the best of it.  She plastered what she hoped was a friendly smile on her face and raised her hand in a wave.

Even at that distance, she saw his face stiffen with surprise.  She almost laughed, even as her heart sank.  He’d forgotten about her.

Just like old times.

Ava blew out a breath and drew her shoulders back.  Then she swallowed what was left of her pride and walked the rest of the way to the Lucky Guess.

Steve Faraday had grown old.  His hair was still pulled back in the same low ponytail, but there was more gray than red in it now, and his short, scruffy beard had gone white.  Ava didn’t know why that came as such a shock.  Maybe because the last time she’d seen him, he’d still been a young man.

“Ava?”  He dropped the wrench he was using, wiped his grease-stained hands on his faded canvas overalls, and picked his way off the dredge.

They stared at each other.  Finally Ava spoke.  “Hello, Steve.”

His lips thinned.  “That’s what you call your own father?”

Ava worked to keep her face impassive.  What the hell did he expect her to call him?  Daddy?  “It’s been a long time.”

 Steve shrugged.  His eyes flicked over her.  “You look just like your mother.”

Ava stiffened, unsure how to take that.  Oblivious, he took her suitcase and motioned her towards a rusty white pickup truck parked near the dock.  “Thought you were coming Wednesday, or I’d have picked you up at the airport.”

“It is Wednesday.”

“Is it?”  Steve rubbed the back of his neck.  “You should’ve called.  Hot water pump is on the fritz, and I’ve got a lot to do.”

Ava’s mouth worked.  “I didn’t realize I was going be so much trouble.”

Steve looked at her sharply.  “I’ve got a lot on my plate is all.  I’ll take you to the yurt.  You can head into town once you’ve settled in.”

The drive to Steve’s camp passed in awkward silence.  Ava stared out the window.  Tents, tarps, and rusty trucks cluttered the beach.  Old barrels people had converted into grills were scattered between the various camps.

The ocean glittered in the pale sunlight, deceptively welcoming.  Ava fought back a shiver.  She'd heard plenty of stories about what could happen- what had happened- to divers out there.  Neither experience nor caution guaranteed immunity from the callous cruelty of the Bering Sea.

A few miles down the beach, they pulled up to a drab canvas yurt.  Spare parts for the dredge littered the sand out front.  A few weathered steps led up to the door.  Steve eased the truck to a stop and turned to Ava.  “I cleared off the bottom bunk and some shelves for you.  There’s a camp stove and some food if you’re hungry.”

“You’re not coming in?”

“I have to fix that hot water pump, or we won’t be able to go out tomorrow.  Everything’s real straightforward; you’ll be fine.”  Steve barely waited for the door to slam shut behind her before he looped around and headed back towards the port.

Ava stared after him.  “Unbelievable.”  She hefted her suitcase over one shoulder and her guitar over the other, stomped up the stairs, and pushed open the rickety door.

Inside was surprisingly cozy.  One corner housed a small woodstove, a couple pans stacked on top.  Well-stocked shelves lined all the walls except the back one, where the bunks had been built.

Ava dropped her bag onto the bottom bunk, then laid her guitar case beside it.  She unlatched it and swung back the lid.  The sight of her burnished Gibson reassured her.  She ran her fingers along the neck, and the pressure in her chest eased.

She closed the case again and straightened with a sigh.  The gnawing feeling in her stomach reminded her how long it had been since she’d eaten.  She looked around for the food her father had mentioned.

As it turned out, what he considered food consisted largely of canned chili and creamed corn.  Ava dug out her purse, sighed again.  She’d seen more than a few bars in town during her taxi ride from the airport.  At least one of them must serve actual food.

***

All the bars of note seemed to be located on the first main street.  Except for the concrete sidewalks, the buildings looked the same as they must have a hundred years ago.  There were ghosts here.  Even in the perma-light of summer, it was cold.  Ava quickened her pace.

The first place she came to seemed passable enough.  Ava squinted at the faded sign: Whitecap Bar.  She glanced up at the sky.  Clouds were racing in from the Bering Sea.  Desperate to get inside before the rain started, she trotted towards the door.

Suddenly, it flew open.  Ava jumped back as two overtly drunk, loudmouthed men barreled out, fists flying.  Maybe this wasn’t the best choice, after all.  She started to retrace her steps.

A low whistle floated out of the dim alley next to the bar.  A tall, gangly man wearing a ratty baseball cap and dirty clothes materialized out of the shadows.  In any other city, he might have been mistaken for a vagrant.

Here, he looked right at home.

“Hey, baby.”  His words were just slurred enough to give away he’d been drinking.  “Haven't seen you ‘round here before.”

Ava’s stomach lurched.  She'd dealt with men like this before.  She had to get the hell out of there.  “Yeah, you won’t again.”

She backed into another man.  Before she knew what was happening, four more circled her.

The first sidled forward.  “Relax, baby.  Why don’t you come inside for a drink?”

Ava found herself corralled deeper and deeper into the alley.  Her eyes darted back and forth.  “Not interested.”

The man grinned.  “Hear that, Jerome?  She’s not interested.”

The second man laughed.  “I’m sure we can change her mind.”

Behind the group, Ava noticed another man watching them.  A glimmer of hope flickered in the back of her mind.  When he realized she’d seen him, however, he ducked his head and melted back into the bar.

Ava’s heart sank.  She forced down the panic building in her chest and fisted her hands.  This wasn’t the first time she’d been outnumbered in a fight.  If they expected her to go down easily, they were in for a surprise.

She backed into something solid.  And warm.  Before she could react, Ethan tucked her behind him.  His voice was so low it was nearly a growl.

“Fuck off, Bobby.”

Ava struggled to peer around his broad shoulders.  Where had he come from?

Bobby seemed to be wondering the same thing.  His red-rimmed eyes widened.  “You’re a little far down from your usual spot, Calhoun.”

Ethan’s voice was even.  “Came for the view.”

Ava blushed furiously, but if Bobby caught his meaning, he showed no sign.  “You know you’re not welcome here.  Why don’t you get along?  We were just inviting the lady in for a drink.”

“She doesn’t want to drink with you,” Ethan said before Ava could retort.

Bobby took a step closer.  “Is that a fact?”  As if on cue, his friends stepped forward as well.

Ethan didn’t budge.  “Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your boys.”  His voice dropped.  “Again.”  His eyes issued a silent dare.

Bobby stared at him.  Behind Ethan, Ava tensed anew.  Finally, he tossed his head.  “She seems like a cold fish, anyway.”  He pushed past his crew and stalked into the bar.  One by one, the other men followed.

Ethan waited until they had gone, then turned to Ava.  Aside from being slightly paler than he remembered, she looked none the worse for wear.  Her green eyes flashed up at him.  “I could have handled myself.”

The idea of her facing off against Bobby and his gang made his gut churn.  There was something about Bobby Scott he’d never liked.  He’d always reminded Ethan too much of his father.

Ava Faraday needed to stay away from him.  Far away.  Not that he could tell her.  He had the distinct impression she would invite him to go to hell if he tried.

Which meant it was his duty as a gentleman to watch over her himself.  He barely managed to stifle a grin. “You know, there are plenty of bars in town besides this one.  Places better suited for a woman alone.”

He motioned her out of the alley and followed behind her, sweeping a casual glance over her ass.  He shook his head appreciatively.  No, there definitely weren’t women like Ava Faraday in Nome.

They reentered the main street.  Ethan paused.  The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled.  He looked around.  His eye quickly settled on Bobby, leaning in the doorway of the bar, watching them.

Ethan laid a confident, possessive hand on the small of Ava’s back.  She jolted.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“We have an audience.”  Ethan kept his voice light.  “Just act casual.  If they think you’re with me, they’ll leave you alone.”

Ava snorted.  “Great.”

Ethan could feel her tension under his hand.  And her warmth.  His fingers flexed.  “Relax.  I don’t bite.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

He chuckled.  “Relax.”  He eased her closer to him until she was pressed against his side.  His thumb traced a lazy half-circle against her back, his fingers grazed her hip.  He allowed himself a tiny smile when he felt her breath hitch.  He could get used to this.

Ava couldn’t tell if he was torturing her on purpose.  “Is he gone?”  Her voice sounded strained even to her.

“Left a few minutes ago.”

She bit back a curse and jerked away from him.  Asshole.  She debated slapping the teasing grin off his face, decided to make her escape instead.  She walked faster, irritated at how effortlessly he kept up.

“Easy, sweetheart, I was kidding.”  Ethan reached out and caught her wrist.  “Come on.  Why don’t you let me get you a proper drink?”  His eyes twinkled.  “After all, I’ve already seen your panties.”

Ava stuck her nose in the air and pretended her face wasn’t burning.  If he thought she was that easy, he had another thing coming.  “I’m not thirsty.”  She dislodged her wrist.  Her skin burned where his hand had been.

Ethan grinned, unperturbed.  “In that case, I’ll walk you home.”

“Like hell.”  Ava clamped her mouth shut as his eyebrows went up and his smile widened.  “I mean, I’m fine.”

She turned back towards the yurt.  Then she paused.  “And, you know, thanks.  For back there.”  She grimaced.  Christ, she sounded like a teenage girl.  She picked up her pace.

She thought she heard him murmur, “My pleasure.”  But short of turning back, she couldn’t be sure.

***

Bobby Scott fumed.

This must be how a wolf felt when it was robbed of a fresh kill.

Ethan Calhoun had an agenda.  Bobby was sure of it.  Since he’d been here, the Lucille had tied for profits with the Scotts’ dredge.  As if that wasn't bad enough, now he was butting into his personal business.

Bobby’s father never missed an opportunity to grumble how they’d been better off before Ethan Calhoun.  Bobby agreed.  Calhoun was a poacher, an out-of-town pretty boy with gold fever.  The Scotts were an institution in Nome.  His grandfather had built a veritable dredging empire, one his father had preserved.  Bobby's mouth firmed.  Ethan Calhoun’s first mistake had been to get in the way.

His second was thinking a poacher would ever be tolerated here.

Bobby approached the corner-most table in the back of Whitecap Bar.  In the dim, dust-and-smoke-filled light, he could barely make out the hunched figure nursing a beer there.  With a grunt, he plunked down in the chair opposite the man.  “You could’ve helped out there.”

The man took a long draught from his glass.  “I’m helping you enough.”

Bobby shrugged.  “Whatever.  Everything set?”

“Yeah.”  The man blew out a ragged, beer-soaked breath.  “You know, I’d never be doing this if I didn’t-”

“Save it,” Bobby interrupted.  He leaned back.  “So, tell me about it.  No, wait-” he held up a finger as the man opened his mouth, “on second thought, don’t.  As long as you can tell me it’ll work.”

“It’ll work.”

“Good.”  Bobby started to get up, paused.  “There was a woman with him.”  He looked at the man pointedly.

The man’s eyes widened.  “Wait a minute!  You never said anything about a woman-”

“Well, I’m saying it now.”  Bobby pulled out a dingy cigarette and stood.  “Make it happen, or forget about getting paid.”  He meandered back to where his friends were waiting for him at the bar.

The other man slammed his baseball cap down onto the table and dug his dirty fingers into the throbbing vein in his forehead.  He hated being involved with a bottom-feeder like Bobby Scott, but he needed money, and no one was supposed to get hurt.  That was the agreement.

It was an agreement that seemed to be changing faster than he could keep up.

***

Ava huddled on her bunk, a blanket draped over her shoulders, and choked down a can of chili.  The thin canvas walls of the yurt did nothing to keep out the freezing ocean air.  She shivered.  Why hadn’t she just taken Ethan up on his offer of a drink?  She could be eating real food right now, in an actual building.

A sudden noise from just outside the yurt made the hair rise on her arms.  She froze and listened.  Several long minutes passed.

There it was again!  The food in her mouth turned to chalk.  Possible sources for that noise flashed through her head.  A bear?  Or had Bobby and his friends somehow managed to find her?

She scanned the yurt.  There had to be something she could use as a weapon.  Her eye fell on a black cast-iron skillet sitting on the woodstove.  She crept over and wrapped her fingers around the handle, tested its weight.  It would do.   She stole across the floor.  Whatever was making the noise sounded like it was just outside.  Ava took a deep breath and gripped the skillet a little tighter.  Then she threw open the door.

A musk ox looked up at her, unimpressed.  Ava stared back, her heartbeat still thundering in her ears.  The animal watched her a moment longer, then went back to chewing the clump of beach grass at its feet.

Ava shut the door again and leaned against it.  The skillet dangled from her hand.  A mixture of relief and incredulity churned in her gut.

What the hell kind of town was this?

###

Want more?

BUY NOW:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords