Author's Note: Still don't own any real persons, places or objects (like the Hansen clan and crew, Dutch Harbor, and the Northwestern), and still don't claim to. This chapter was really hard to get out for some reason...but I did it. I think. You're gonna hate me, sorry... but I ended on a cliffhanger. Constructive criticisms are most welcome and appreciated, as are reviews. Many thanks to those who've already reviewed!

Edit: For those of you who'd already read and reviewd this chapter, I added a clarifying sentence to the end of the first paragraph. Hopefully this clears up any confusion as to the sequence of events in the beginning of this chapter.

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Staring out into the icy wasteland, Ashton rubbed her gloved hands quickly together and blew on them in a futile attempt to return warmth to the digits. The midday sun glinted off the ice-choked harbor, causing the young woman to squint against the painful glare. Tearing her eyes from scene before her, Ashton turned from the rail and returned to her position at the bait station. She'd woken fifteen minutes ago from an hour and a half nap after spending the past twenty-four hours helping Matt and Norman monitor the cannery workers offload their two tanks of Opilio crab. Now the Northwestern was headed back out to sea in the hopes of filling her tanks with living white gold.

Twisting in the chair to glance out the wheelhouse door as the bait grinder came to life, Norman frowned in mild annoyance. What does she think she's doing now? We won't even be on the grounds for another ten hours, and it'll be another fifteen before we get to where set our first string. The idiot should be sleeping…or at least eating something.

Although he didn't share his brothers' outright distaste for having the ranger on board as a greenhorn, Norman didn't like the circumstances that brought her aboard. He listened to the grinder gnaw the frozen herring into malleable bits for twenty minutes before silence enveloped the boat once again, broken only by the engine's soft purr, the gentle slap of waves against the hull.

Ensuring the boat remained on course, Norman quietly shut the wheelhouse door behind him to avoid waking the sleeping cameraman sprawled on his wheelhouse floor, and went down on deck to check up on Ashton. Her back was turned to him as she shoved handfuls of bait into the sacks and cinched them tight, securing the tops like Jake taught her that first day. Arms crossed over his chest, Norman stood beside her and silently studied her work. She glanced up at him, her hands slowing as she studied his bearded face.

"Keep going, I just want see how you're doing." Emphasizing his words with a rolling hand, Norman's sunglasses blocked the expression in his dark brown eyes. Trying to ignore Norman's presence, Ashton resumed her pace and soon she lost track of time. After a brief moment of watching her work, Norman smiled faintly and gently patted her back in approval as he made his way back up into the wheelhouse.

****

"Watch yourselves…" Sig's warning trailed off as a thirty-foot wave crashed against the starboard bow and along the length of the starboard rail, drenching the crew as they scattered across the rolling deck. Once again, Ashton found herself on the flat of her back looking up into Edgar's face before he hauled her unceremoniously to her feet. A shy, yet sad smile twitched on her lips as she murmured a quiet 'thank you' to his already retreating back. Jacob's voice yelling over the roar of the storm brought Ashton back to reality.

"You crushing on him, or what?" Jacob laughed at her shocked reaction; Ashton's eyes widened and she shook her head as she made her way back to the bait bin.

"No. What? God, no! He's the boss, well, the boss's brother at least. Why would I be crushing on him?" She couldn't keep the sarcastic emphasis from her voice each time she mentioned the word 'boss', knowing every man on deck could hear her words. The woman knew that the crew disliked her, or at least what she represented, and she resented their jibes and hazes that seemed worse than any other greenhorn would be forced to endure. Although she kept her mouth shut and just worked through the hell they put her through, she couldn't help but release some of the pent up anger whenever Jacob questioned her about it. Despite the animosity she felt for the captain and his crew, she'd grown fond of the boat during the two and a half weeks she'd been aboard the Seattle based vessel. As she dove into the waiting pot and hung the bait, she met Jake's gaze and he flashed a quick grin before stepping back to grab the shot at his feet.

Ashton slid from the pot and helped Edgar to secure the door before stepping back to watch the pot lift up and slide off the launcher into the ocean. Returning to her station for another bait sack, she watched Edgar, Matt, Nick and Jake sort the table filled with Opilio crabs. She knew Norman had remained behind the controls, and Jacob stood in the middle of the deck to get everyone save Norman in the footage. As the next set of buoys appeared on the starboard bow, Matt sent Sig the count and the others readied themselves to repeat the process. The pot crashed back into the Bearing Sea as a wave came crashing over the port shelter, sweeping the crew from their feet. The boat listed on her starboard side for what felt like an eternity before another wave righted her and Sig's concerned voice broke through the crew's ringing heads.

"You okay down there?" The skipper watched his crew climb unsteadily to their feet between glances through the large windows as he began jogging into the violent waves. A bad feeling settled in his belly as he saw his brother lay there unmoving on the battered deck, a dark trickle running across the unconscious man's forehead. The heavy sorting table lay on it's side, crab scattered across the deck. Watching Ashton kneel hesitantly at Edgar's side near the upended sorting table, he demanded a status report.

"We're fine…Edgar took a blow to the head, but Ash is working on reviving him. We're all fine though." A tremor in Norman's voice gave away his lie, and Sig cursed loudly in both English and Norwegian. Sitting across the wheelhouse, David wisely held his tongue and focused on repairing the camera that had crashed into the wall.

Nick, Matt and Jake scrambled to sort the remaining crab and shove them into the hold before securing the deck while Norman and Ashton carried the unconscious Edgar into the stateroom he shared with his brother, Jake, and Ashton. While Norman held his brother, Ashton struggled to get the deck boss out of his soaked clothing and into something dry and warm. Norman pulled down Edgar's blankets before heaving him into his bunk as Ashton hurried to bring back the closest first aid kit. Returning moments later, she yanked off her slicker and hoodie as she knelt down next to Edgar's head. Donning latex gloves, she began tending to the nasty looking gash and bruise across his brow and down one temple; she barely heard Norman excusing himself to inspect the engine room.

Ten minutes later, Ashton stepped out of the stateroom with her and Edgar's raingear and boots in her grip. She returned the gear to the ready room and when she joined Jake and Jacob at the table, Jake reached across to squeeze her hand. Wincing, she tried pulling her hand from his, but he shot her a firm look filled with concern as he gently probed her hand and wrist. Sharp gasps confirmed his suspicions, and he rose to rescue the first aid kit from the stateroom. Setting it near to hand on the table, Jake unrolled the Ace sports bandage and carefully wrapped Ashton's hand and wrist, securing the fabric with the metal fasteners. She thanked him softly, an appreciative smile mingling with the worry on her face. Matt called Jake over to help him finish preparing the meal and set the table while Ashton went back to check on Edgar.

Glancing at Edgar, his chest rising and falling in a slow yet steady rhythm that marked the only sign of life, she quickly peeled off her damp clothes with a grimace and soft groans. Her entire body ached from being slammed across the deck and into Jake's legs. Grabbing a set of dry clothes at the foot of her bunk, she pulled them on before sitting on the edge of Edgar's bunk. She gently patted his bruising cheek, softly calling his name.

"Edgar? Edgar, I need you to open your eyes. Please? Open your eyes. We need to know you're all right…please? Just for a moment – then you can sleep. Edgar? Please?" Fear filled her voice as tears filled her eyes, both threatening to overcome her. She fought back her fear, but the tears rolled down her cheeks as his hand covered hers and his eyes fluttered before cracking open. Ashton's free hand covered the sobs as Edgar weakly gave her a lopsided grin.

"Jacob was right…you are crushing on me." His voice came out as a hoarse whisper, yet Ashton laughed with relief and wiped her eyes with a sniffle. A soft rap on the door brought her head up quickly and she gently pulled her hand from Edgar's. Matt gently cleared his throat in the awkward silence that filled the room.

"So, um, how is he? He hit the table and deck pretty hard –"

"I was there Matt, standing right next to him. I know how hard he hit…" Guilt filled her expression as Matt winced at her venomous outburst. She looked up at him apologetically and continued more gently, "I'm sorry Matt. I think he'll be okay now, now that I know he'll wake up." Edgar's hand closed around Ashton's again as he whispered softly, "I'm still awake, y'know…" He looked up at her groggily, a wide yawn cracking his jaws and tried to smile convincingly. As he drifted back off to sleep, he heard Ashton whisper 'liar' with a sad laugh. The last thing he felt before the darkness claimed him was his blanket being pulled up over his shoulders.

****

"But he's alright, though? Nothing's broken, no serious bleeding, no wheezing…" Sig's voice trailed off, Ashton's adamant head shaking doing nothing to relieve the anxiety trapped in his chest. She'd told him the extent of his brother's injuries, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that the young woman had told him everything he needed to know. She'd been standing right next to Edgar as the wave swept them off their feet, slamming the deck boss onto the crab filled sorting table. She'd been swept into Jake, and if it weren't for her wrapping her arms around the young man's legs, he would have been pulled over with the rushing water.

Despite saving the life of one crewman, Sig couldn't help but pin his youngest brother's near death experience on Ashton. He glanced at her, standing at the dash with her gaze fixed on the ocean outside. The skipper refused to trust her on deck until Edgar showed more signs of improvement, so he'd called her up to the wheelhouse to assist in locating the buoy bags in the darkness. Sighing, he took a drag of a dying cigarette and forced himself to get a grip. Of the last string and a half, she'd spotted all but the first three buoys. Damn, she found twenty-one out of twenty-four pots. She's been doing better than I thought. Maybe she deserves more credit than I give her.

Shifting nervously, Ashton glanced over to the skipper in time to see him turning his gaze back out to sea. A corner of her mouth twisted up in a smile as she mulled over the appraising look in his expression. Taking advantage of the silence, she thought carefully about how to frame her answers. She knew the skipper didn't believe her assessment of Edgar's condition and it frustrated her since both Norman and Nick had given Sig the same information she did.

"I swear, Captain Hansen, he'll be fine. He'll be sore and stiff for a while, and his head'll hurt like hell at least until the stitches come out, but I don't think there's any permanent brain damage and I didn't feel any broken bones. There may be some bruised bones, but I don't think there's anything broken." Jake's weary voice interrupted to send up the count and Sig scowled as he wrote down the number. He fixed his fierce glare onto the waves sending freezing spray over the bow.

"I keep hearing you say 'you think', but 'thinking' isn't going to get my brother back on that deck any quicker. In fact, 'thinking' might end up killing him." Rapping his knuckles against the wooden dash, he darted a glare in her direction, and saw Ashton stiffen and color start to spread across her cheeks. Seeing her struggling to formulate a response, he immediately regretted taking his anger out on her. Before he could apologize, however, Ashton managed to get out her response.

"I'm doing the best I can, but I'm not a doctor! He's the one that got stupid; he's the one that moved behind the table, he's the one that nearly got himself killed! Don't blame me for your brother's stupid mistake!" Ashton blinked away the tears threatening to fall and sucked in a ragged breath. She caught sight of the next buoy and was glad for the distraction as she pointed it out. She knew she'd crossed the line by snapping at the captain, but she couldn't help it. Although the rest of the crew hadn't voiced their thoughts while she was within earshot, as Sig had just now, she knew they believed Edgar had put himself in harm's way for her. A quick glance from the corner of her eye confirmed her suspicions for the dead silence: Sig Hansen looked ready to murder.


Copyright Alissa Franko 2009