Chapter Eight

“If we do, we should forget about them, and my criminally 80s hairstyle,” Polly said lightly, grabbing the bottle of wine and refilling their glasses. “Tell me about ‘Chase Colton: The Grown Up Years’, instead.”

He laughed at her dramatic recitation, and then cleared his throat. “Well, you probably remember more of my senior year than I do. Or is that an understatement?”

Polly shrugged her shoulders. “Probably. I’m guessing you weren’t keeping a well documented journal of all your sex, drugs and rock and roll.”

“Miller Lite, yes, drugs, no,” Chase defended. “Sex, yes, rock and roll, vaguely familiar. I seem to recall a lot of Skynard…”

“So what happened after graduation and your mom handed your ass to you? Parker told me she laid down the law…”

Chase smiled. “She did, and it was the best thing she could have done,” he said. “I decided to join the Navy, see the world and get paid to do it, but then I really got into it – I needed that discipline and structure in my life, and I was able to send money home to help out my mom. I ended up going into to SEALs training, and never looked back. I loved it – I loved my guys, I loved all the challenges. Being a SEAL saved my life, I swear it.”

“And you were never even a boy scout,” Polly teased, knowing full well that Chase’s upbringing in the north woods was more valuable than any chintzy Scout camp could have ever been.

“So if you loved it so much, why aren’t you still a part of it?” Polly asked. “Parker had said you were discharged, but…” Polly paused. “God, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, really. You don’t have to tell me.”

Chase gave her a small smile. “It’s okay. I got injured, it affected my duties, and so I was honorably discharged, and with my mom still living here in the Keweenaw, I came back home in case she needed me someday.”

Polly swallowed thickly. The thought of Chase being hurt made her wince inside – he seemed so strong and capable now, it was hard to imagine an injury that would take him out of the career he loved.

She desperately wanted to ask, but if he wasn’t offering to share, it wasn’t her place to pry.

“Are you… are you okay now?” She asked softly, touching his arm gently.

Chase gave her a wide, rakish smile. “I’m okay. I’ve got a disobedient lab, a house of my own, a business and I’m sharing a spectacular merlot with an old friend. Life is good.”

“What sort of business?” Polly asked, picking up on the mention. “Surely you get a good pension from the Navy.”

“I get a great pension, but if I just sat around for the next fifty years, I’d go out of my gourd,” Chase replied. “I came back home and started up my own guide business.”

“What does that entail?”

“I do a little of everything – I take folks deer hunting or teach first timers how to track and hunt all the wildlife up here. I have blinds that I let people use. I get permits if needed, I take folks to the best fishing spots, I rent snowmobiles and take people on tours if they are new or unfamiliar with the area, I have a couple of kayaks that I take people out on the lake for a tour with, I have some four wheelers – I’m pretty much the poster boy for all the outdoor stuff you can do in the Keweenaw, and I’ll show you around and help you do it,” Chase rattled off, knowing it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as a corporate attorney in LA.

Polly smiled slowly. “That sounds like the perfect job for you,” she said easily. “You were always so patient and you genuinely wanted people to learn things for themselves. I remember you teaching me how to bait a hook, and how to stay really still in order to see a fox in the woods. That’s a great second profession, Chase. Though, I imagine, not as pulse pounding as some of your past missions.”

Chase laughed. “No, but the likelihood of my being shot by a sniper or blown up with terrorist explosives has definitely gone down since I was discharged. Now, my biggest threat is some moron with a shotgun and no training. I just make sure to stand behind them.”

“Safety first,” Polly laughed. “Good for you – I’m glad you found something worthwhile to come home to. I know you love it up here.”

“And I know you hate it,” Chase shot back.

Polly bit her lip and thought about that. “I don’t hate it, I just always wanted something more, you know? And it always felt so… so lonely. The silence, at least to me, is deafening up here. I’ve gotten used to the constant noise of traffic and people talking and cell phone ringing. It reminds me that I’m in the world, not outside it. It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, it’s been a long time since you were here for more than a day or two. Maybe you’ll get used to this world for a while. Don’t all famous novelists have retreats for writing?”

“Yes, but I told you, mine’s in Bora Bora,” Polly shot back.

Both of them jumped, the reverie between them broken, when Jack abruptly stood up, stretched and launched himself onto the sofa, head lolling on Polly’s lap. “He probably needs to go out,” Chase said. “And you’ve been hiding a yawn for like, twenty minutes now.”

Polly laughed and then covered her mouth when a gigantic yawn cracked her jaw. “Sorry – it’s been a really long day, but I’m really glad Jack landed you on my doorstep.”

“Yeah, because otherwise you’d be freezer burned by now,” Chase agreed, standing up and stretching, exposing a tantalizing swath of skin on his toned abs. Polly swallowed thickly, forcing herself to look away before she started drooling over that little trail of hair pointing south…

“It’s still pouring down rain,” she said, looking outside. “Where do you live?”

“I bought some land off your brother last year, and built a cabin on it. It’s only about two miles through the woods, not far.”

“Not far?” Polly was shocked. “Two miles in pitch black darkness, in the rain, with no trail?”

“I’ve been through BUD/S training. A little water doesn’t bother me,” Chase replied evenly.

“Yeah, but if you die of exposure, who’s going to help me build a fire tomorrow?” Polly asked, only half teasing.

Chase laughed. “You could put an ad in the paper.”

“It only comes out once a week,” Polly shot back. “Chase… why don’t you stay? There’s plenty of room down here. Besides, Jack doesn’t exactly look ready for a tramp in the woods.”

They both looked over at the Lab, who was fully stretched across the sofa, legs akimbo, tongue lolling out as a soft snore rose from his nostrils.

“Are you sure you want us to stay?” Chase asked softly.

“Stay,” Polly said, trying to sound indifferent. “The bed in the spare room is all made up, and I’ll be upstairs. Plenty of room.”

Twenty minutes later, Chase shifted in the spare bed, trying to get more comfortable as Jack lay at his feet and the sounds of Polly crawling into bed directly above him lulled him to sleep.

 10250/50000