Claimed

A Novella

By K.R. Smith

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Copyright K.R. Smith 2011

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20th August 1999

      We pulled up outside of a bar, in some kind of ‘one man and his dog’ town a couple of miles off the main highway.  As soon as the motor switched off, Brian, Abi and Steve were jumping out of the rented Jeep.  I looked about this tiny town in the middle of the Alaska Range, and therefore in the middle of nowhere; and I wasn’t as eager.

      “C’mon, Jess.”  Steve threw me a tired look.  “It’s just a rest stop, it’s still a four hour drive to Anchorage.”

      “You said we’d be staying in a hotel tonight, in Anchorage.”  I whined as I reluctantly climbed out.

      “Gees Steve, you weren’t kidding when you said Jess was a city-dweller.” Brian laughed, as he took Abi’s hand to lead her into the Bar.

      Steve was embarrassed about having me as a girlfriend, I could tell.  He didn’t take hold of my hand, nor did he hold the door open for me.  Inwardly, I fumed as I went inside.  I toyed with the idea of an immediate break-up once I was safely back in Seattle.

      He was the outdoorsy type, who typically played more than one sport but I never pretended to be.  I met him at a party and when we were introduced, I told him straight up how I’m a manager at a PR company, and I have a pretty impressive resume of events.  I own my own apartment and a cat and a fridge, stocked full of frozen TV dinners. 

      So what if I can’t cook over an open fire?  So what if I don’t know how to pitch a tent?  So call me civilized, for having difficulty using the behind of a tree, as a bathroom!

      We walked into the bar, to find a typical scene for an establishment in the middle of nowhere.  Wooden floors which looked like they had never seen a can of polish; and a couple of chairs and tables as well as booths on one side of the room, with a long counter on the other.  In the middle, sat burly types who could have been truckers or lumberjacks, for all I knew.

      However, there was a pool table at the far end of the bar which was being used by four Native Alaskan guys.  They caught my eye as I tried not to obviously stare at their long, black hair, broad shoulders, or their bodies which nicely filled out their jeans and flannel shirts.  All four of them had a pool stick in their hands, which implied that they were all playing.  Three of them had long hair whereas the fourth, had cut his dark hair short. 

      One of them was taller than the others as well as stronger looking.  His hair was also the longest, all the way down to his lower back.  Maybe I had never grown out of my rock band phase, but I thought he was the handsomest although he did look older than me.  I was 29 years old and this guy looked like he was 39 years old.  I bet he was probably married at his age, oh well.  

      Just then, the handsome one looked right my way, as if he noticed my gaze.  I tried to keep from blushing, as I joined my group in a booth along the wall.  When we sat down, Steve immediately picked up a menu so he wouldn’t have to look at me.