Chapter 2

Two rough hands tossed up from his glass before one slapped to the chest of his green field jacket. "And that's how it came to be. Hand to God."

The salt-and-pepper hair of Bose's short beard brushed his shoulder as he went back to the bar for another cup of coffee. "That has to be the saddest thing I ever heard." While he filled his mug, a finger wagged back and forth over his shoulder. "For some reason, I was expecting you to regale me with a hearty tale of plundering and fighting and pillaging and chesty wenches. Believe it or not, I'm already up to my ears with my own terrible fishing stories."

The day it all ended and began was still fresh in his mind, and the cold lip of his glass of vodka came to Haldir's mouth while he gazed out through the foggy window of the pub.

Impossible, he thought, that he’d fought hundreds of battles and traveled both worlds many times over. But as he sat in the exact same spot he did every day before noon on another gloomy morning, he couldn't dredge up of a single noteworthy adventure to speak of. "I told you it was a long story, not an exciting one."

While he tried to convince the island's most interesting man there must be more to the long years of his life, Bose nodded his head and rolled his hand in the air in front of him. "Yeah, I know, but" — he curled his arm into a muscleman's pose — "you're a Viking, goddammit."

Little faint snorts huffed through his nose as he chuckled at Bose's interpretation of his early days. "But I told you all those stories a few times."

Since he left the supernatural world two years ago in search of the woman the ancient psychic King spoke of, he hadn't seen a single member of his family. The ache to be close to them again made the loneliness even more unbearable. Every day that went by on the barren and pitiless island reminded him he may wait forever.

He considered leaving it up to the Fates and going back to the magical realm to be with his children. The two of them never stayed out of trouble for long, and not knowing what happened in their lives tore him apart little by little.

Eventually, his mate would make her way to him, and they'd find each other someday if the Fates were generous. But a sigh sent a fresh plume of condensation to the window at the thought of the gods ever doing something kind without a stack of heartbreaks attached to it.

Although Haldir's heart and body ached for the mystery woman, wherever she was, he had waited long enough. A man can only stand to be alone for so long, and even one as patient as the Immortal reached his limit.

In the last booth of the pub, bathed in teak wood and brass fixtures, Haldir awaited the outsiders who arrived from the airport. Being the only inn on the island, every traveler came there first to check in. All he had to do was wait—and that's precisely what he did every day for the last two years.

The American-born fisherman who wore an off-white cable-knit sweater sat down across from Haldir again and set his cup of coffee on the table. "So, did your friend give you a hint of what she might look like?"

While he swung his beard side to side over his coat, he eyed his glass and swirled the last of the liquid. The Darke King Daniel was a mysterious and complicated man. Whatever his reason for being so vague about his mate's identity, Haldir had to believe it was for the best. "Not a crumb of information to go on" — a finger tapped on the tabletop — "other than I'd find her here."

A stream of air blew across Bose's coffee before he carefully slurped it. As he sucked back a cool breath to chase away the burn on his tongue, his brows drew together while he tried to figure out the puzzle of his friend's life. "Well, we don't get many beautiful young women here on the island, do we? So, I guess that will make it a little easier to spot her when she finally shows up."

There was always an indifferent puff of air and a smart-ass comment to cover the pain in the old man's heart, and his palm tossed upward as he served it. "The thing is, he never said she was young or beautiful. With my luck, she has a face like yours and stinks worse than whatever Ingrid is making over in the kitchen right now."

As Bose nodded to the man who rushed by the window to escape the brutal blast of wind, Haldir drank the last of his vodka. "Don't worry yourself too much; nothing can possibly smell that bad."

The crisp cold scattered through the bar when Dr. Carter ducked inside. A series of angry squalls began their attack on the island before dawn, and when the next gust came, the doctor battled the invisible force on the other side of the door until he slammed it shut with his hip.

The slaps of his hand knocking off the powdery snow from his parka sent shrill wisps through the otherwise quiet air as he glanced over at the two men who sat at the booth and stared at him. "How are you folks doing this morning?"

The leather seat squelched under Bose as he turned around to give him the ball-busting greeting only another American could construe as friendly banter. "A little early for the town's only doctor to be hitting up the bar for a drink, isn't it?"

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, Dr. Carter smirked at the accusation. "My new nurse from America is arriving this morning, and I wanted to catch her as soon as she came in."

The whole room grew heavier as Haldir's gasp sucked the air from it, and when his jittery hands began to shake, he balled them into fists to hide it.

But his hopeful friend turned to shoot a toothy grin across the table as Bose nodded at the good news. "Hot damn. Did you say a new nurse from the States?"

One of the few decent things Ingrid could make steamed in the cup in the doctor's hands, and he narrowed his eyes to the both of them before he sipped on it. "I did say that, yes. Needed to bring in a ringer to whip these amateurs into shape; figured we should have at least one person on the nursing staff who knows what the hell they're doing."

A thumb pointed over his shoulder as James continued his complaints about the employees the town afforded him. "This bunch, I'll tell you what, I wouldn't trust them to take care of a cat, much less someone I cared about."

When he leaned out of the booth, Bose rested his elbows on his knees. "Where would this sweet little lady of yours be coming from?"

While James groaned at his sore back as he reached across the counter, he grabbed a magazine from the unchanging stack that sat in the corner year-round. "Believe it or not, she's from my hometown up in the mountains. Her last job was as a school nurse, but" — he flipped through the first few pages and sniffed at one of the perfume inserts — "she's more than qualified to run this ship. She was a highly decorated officer in the Army and spent a lot of time on the front lines. Tough as nails, as I understand it. The last commanding officer she served under assured me I wouldn't find a more competent person on the planet."

Like a televangelist who danced for a dollar, his hands rose in the air and shook as the old country doctor sang out in his exaggerated Southern drawl. "Hallelujah. Thank you, sweet Jesus, for answering my prayers." The next page flipped over, and he cringed at the model’s expression. “What the hell a nurse with her experience is doing in a shithole like this, I’ll never understand.” The shoulder of his parka jerked upward. “But whatever. Maybe this one will stick.”

A wind-burned cheek puffed as Bose shrugged at Haldir. "Hard as nails Army combat nurse. Any chance she looks anything like me?"

The brown, corduroy Ushanka hat James wore pushed back on his head, and his white hair peeked out as he stared at them both from the top of his gold, wire-rimmed glasses. While he took a minute to jokingly compare them, his head wagged. "Un-un, that would be a tremendously big no."

After he gave his phone another check for the time, he ducked from side to side to peek out the windows in the reflection of the mirror above the bar. "I've talked to that young woman more than once on video chat, and I don't mind telling you it was no hardship on my eyes at all. No, sir. She's a beauty, fellas." A finger wagged in the air at the two men who sat behind him. "That pretty, young thing will knock your socks clean off."

A warmth spread through his chest as Haldir licked his lips, and for the first time in years, a twinge of hope made his palms sweaty. A shaky hand pushed through his messy blonde hair as he caught his reflection and wished he were a little more careful with his appearance this morning. "What's her name, Doc?"

The magazine he already read a hundred times flew back across the bar, and James grabbed the remote for the television from the bar top. "Captain Morana Faye."