Page 44 of What We Keep
She tilted her head to the side. “I like Elsa,” she announced. The moment she spoke, I knew this was going somewhere.
“I like Elsa, too. Pretty sure we all like her. She’s likable.” I kept my tone light, hoping my mom didn’t press too much.
My mom bit her lip, pressing them together as if trying to keep from laughing before finally snorting. “She is very likable. But I think you like her in more than just a friendly way.”
“Okaaaay,” I said slowly.
“You be good to her.”
“Of course, I’ll be good to her, Mom. Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me? I’m your son,” I pointed out.
She waggled her brows. “Of course, I protect you. But…” She paused. “There’s something a little special about Elsa. I think you know what I mean.”
My heart squeezed tight because I knew exactly what she meant. There was something more than a little special about Elsa.
When Elsa walked into a room, everything felt a little lighter. Her smile itself was sunshine. And it wasn’t as if life had been perfect for her. She’d lost her own father, and I knew she grieved him. But her sweet smile, radiant warmth, and that soft uncertainty underneath—as if she wasn’t sure she belonged—made me want to give her everything, to unfurl the world for her and ensure she always knew just how special she was.
My voice was gruff when I replied, “I know she’s special.”
“I know you’ll be good to her, and you definitely have been in a better mood since she’s been here. But then, I think we kind of all have.”
“Elsa has that effect,” I said with a chuckle.
“She does. And maybe, just maybe, you could give yourself a chance.”
“What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes.
“You know what I mean.” My mother stood from the table, pecked me on the cheek, and gave my shoulder a squeeze before she walked out of the room to leave me to ponder that observation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Elsa
I was covered in sand, and my skin stung from the ocean salt drying on my hands and arms. When I straightened from putting away my gear and looked into Cook Inlet to see a pod of beluga whales swimming through the water, pure joy rose in a cacophony. There were so many reasons I’d wanted to come back to Alaska, but this moment crystallized them.
The wildness, the crisp air, the wind, the ocean, and my dream job. It was my dream because I felt so real when I was in this place with a sense of grounding inside after feeling unmoored during my time away. I smiled as I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder and turned.
Just before I climbed into my car, I took a last look, whispering, “I’ll be back,” because I would.
Week one at my job felt perfect. Of course, the start involved a lot of administrative details, but I loved my boss. She’d immediately assigned me to three local monitoring projects, lifted her hands, and said, “They’re all yours. I know you know what to do, and I know you love this work.”
I’d almost burst into happy tears in her office, but I kept it together. On the drive home, I swung by Firehouse Café to grab a coffee. Another thing I loved about Alaska was you could walk into just about any restaurant in rubber boots and sand-covered jeans, and nobody would blink.
That’s how it was here. Fancy rubbed shoulders with down-to-earth. The only thing that mattered was what was in your heart.
Janet grinned at me from behind the counter. “I don’t see you here that often,” I pointed out.
“Well, you haven’t been here that often,” she returned with a grin. “I hear you’re settling in well out at Heartfire Falls.”
“Where did you hear that?” I didn’t think anybody knew, even if Maggie suspected, that anything had happened between Haven and me. But this was a small town, and gossip traveled through the winding lines of communication as fast as sparks flew into the air when a fire was blazing.
“Maggie. She stops in every week. She told me you helped paint and that the sign looks amazing. I’m coming out for dinner one night this week, so I’ll get to see it.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I do that when I can. Maggie and I are old friends.”
“Of course you are,” I said with a shrug, feeling a little sheepish because that should have been obvious.
