Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

Sonya. “I’m going across the creek.”
    “Can I go with you?” Lana asked.
    “No. I want to talk to Sonya alone. Why don’t you see what you can fix for dinner?” He indicated the box of stuff on the table. “There should be something in there. You know how the parents get if they aren’t fed on a regular basis.” Roland and Earl weren’t much different from the wild animals roaming the area. Trouble when full, deadly when empty.
    Aidan left Lana to start dinner and headed across the creek and up the bank to the Savonski’s cabin. He knocked and entered on Margaret’s hollered, “Come in.”
    The cabin smelled like Christmas. Warm, inviting, sweet. So different from the cold, musty smell of his.
    His gaze narrowed on Sonya as she sat at the table with her mug of tea and a stack of cookies. “Oh, Sonya.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat at the sight of her injured face.
    Margaret was at the sink, finishing dishes. She wiped her hands on a towel and hung it to dry. “Why don’t I give you two a moment?”
    “That’s not necessary,” Sonya was quick to interject.
    “I’ve got to bring the laundry in from the line, anyway. I’ll just be a minute.” Margaret shared a look with Sonya that silenced her protests. Margaret liked to keep things neighborly, and Aidan knew her look had reminded Sonya of her manners.
    “I appreciate that, Margaret,” Aidan replied, opening the door for her to exit. He was grateful Sonya hadn’t informed the Savonskis of what had transpired between them last summer. As far as they knew, Sonya and Aidan had had a tiff. He knew at least Nikolai still held out hope he and Sonya would kiss and make up.
    Sonya frowned. “Gramps and the boys will be back any moment.”
    He’d seen them at the cannery, talking with Chet about the engine that had been sunk. Aidan had plenty of time before they returned. Any time Nikolai got around the machine shop, it took a while to tear him away. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Sonya. I won’t hurt you.”
    “You did.”
    “I know.” It had cost him the one person who’d meant the world to him. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”
    She picked a cookie off the top of her stack and showed some of those manners Margaret had drilled into her. “Want one?”
    It wasn’t an olive branch, but he’d take it. “Thanks.” Aidan sat across from her and bit into the cookie. The taste exploded in his mouth. “Oh, man.” He groaned. “Monster mug-ups?” Sonya nodded. “Damn, these are good. How do you have just one?”
    She indicated the stack. “You can’t. This is my dinner.”
    They ate in silence for a moment as Aidan cataloged her appearance. “How are you feeling?”
    “Fine.” She shrugged and then winced as the motion caused her pain. “As long as I don’t move much.”
    The anger he felt now was different than the explosive, out-of-control rage he usually dealt with. This slipped through his blood like oil, coating and smothering, and seemed a hell of a lot more dangerous. “Tell me what happened.”
    She did, and it was all he could do to keep the knot tight on his temper.
    “You think it was an accident?” he asked. Fishing was dangerous, accidents happened. Just the nature of the beast could bring out the worst in people. Limited time, limited catch, limited potential to make a lot of money. “This doesn’t sound like an accident.”
    “That’s what Garrett said.”
    Hunt again. He stuffed a cookie in his mouth to keep the biting words back. Of course, the fish cop would be involved. A crime had been committed. At least someone was looking out for her when he couldn’t. “Who was drifting by you?” She listed the boats, all the while acting as though the whole incident was no big deal. When she mentioned the Albatross , Aidan knew he had a target. The son of a bitch deserved whatever mean Aidan could deliver his way.
    “Kendrick makes the most sense,” Sonya said. “I don’t know who else had the opportunity. I don’t know anyone on board the Intrepid . The crew of the Mary Jane are usually too stoned to hit anything they aim at. Treat, on the Miss Julie II, would be shooting at Kendrick rather than at me. So that leaves Kendrick.”
    Unless someone was a proficient marksman like Roland or Earl, Aidan couldn’t help thinking.
    If Kendrick was responsible that meant his father wasn’t. He knew Earl and Roland didn’t have a lot of boundaries when it came to mischief, but