“That sounds like fun,” he said and he meant it. “Give her and Francie my best, okay?”
“What are you going to do for the holiday, Dad?” Olivia hesitated, then continued, “Why don’t you drive over? I know you’d be welcome at the picnic and we’d love to see you.”
“Thanks, sweetie, but I’ve already got plans.” He had no doubt Shannon and Francie would welcome him with open arms, but thankfully, his weekend was already set. He loved seeing his daughter and granddaughter, but he didn’t want to spend the holiday weekend with his ex-wife and her… wife. Even though he wished them well, it was just too uncomfortable. “We’re taking the Allegro out for an overnight. I’m shining her up right now.”
“Who all is going?” She was fishing. Olivia worried about him being single in a small town where most of the women were married or widows old enough to be his mother.
“Liam and Carrie, Will and Julie, the Dugans—you know, the usual crowd.”
“By any chance at all, are you taking a date?” Olivia asked.
“I’m driving the boat, kid. No time for a date,” he said. “Besides who would I take? Mrs. Boerger from next door? She baked me a pie last week after I helped her fix her walker. Or how about Bertie, the yarn shop lady? She’s single and she knitted me a great scarf this past winter.”
Emma chortled in the background when Olivia burst out laughing, probably trying to picture her big, brawny dad with either of the two septuagenarians. “Okay, Dad, I hear you. I worry about you being alone, that’s all.”
“I’m not alone, sweetie. I have plenty of friends.”
“But you need a woman in your life. Even Mom worries about you,” Olivia said. “She’s terrified she put you off marriage forever.”
“Neither of you needs to worry about me. I’m fine. Someone will come along one day, but I’m not actively looking right now.” Tony’s gaze drifted up to the apartment above the boathouse and his mind went to the tiny redhead he knew was up there. The shutters were open for a change. He bit his lower lip as an idea took hold. “Actually, I think Julie might bring along her friend Sarah. She moved here a few weeks ago.” He was thinking out loud, but decided he’d dial Julie as soon as he hung up with the girls.
“That sounds interesting.”
“Poppy, are you driving Uncle Liam’s boat today?” Emma broke in, heading off any nosy questions or innuendos from Olivia. “Will you come and get me at Granny and G-maw Francie’s house? I can wait on the beach for you.”
“We’re not headed to Chicago this trip, angel face.”
Olivia giggled. “Mommy, Poppy called me angel face.”
“I heard him, Em,” Olivia said. “That’s ’cause he thinks you are an angel, but we know better, don’t we?”
“I don’t have wings.”
“Are you sure?” Tony asked. “I’m going to check you out next time I see you. I thought I saw some feathers on your shirt last time.” Grateful for the change of subject, Tony allowed the nonsense with Em to continue until Olivia said they were pulling in the driveway. They lingered over good-byes for a moment and after one last I love you, broke the connection.
Tony sighed and stared at the picture on his phone for another second or two before he scrolled through his contacts for Julie Miles’s number. It might be a long shot, but he hadn’t been able to get Sarah Bennett out of his head. Maybe it was time to do something about it.
* * * *
“Sophie, I don’t know if this is such a great idea.” Sarah regretted agreeing to the boat trip on Lake Michigan and now she was inventing excuses even as she tucked a change of clothes and her makeup kit into the small bag Sophie had brought her. “What if I get seasick?”
“If you didn’t get seasick on the ferry coming over here, you won’t get nauseated on Liam’s boat.” Sophie handed her a folded T-shirt. “Seriously, it’s like a floating house.”
“But I’m not ready. I’ve barely been out in public yet.” Sarah’s stomach was churning at the thought of having to be social for two whole days. She was doing better. She’d been to town for coffee with the MP twice this week, and she’d gone with Carrie to the market and to Libby’s winery up by the lighthouse. Last night, she’d even slept through the whole night for the first time since she’d arrived in Willow Bay, thanks to Sophie, who’d graciously taken her turn sleeping in the daybed downstairs.
But this was different. The husbands would be there. She knew and trusted Will Brody, Julie’s long-time “gentleman friend” as Julie described him. She’d met Liam Reilly on several occasions in Chicago, but she didn’t know Henry Dugan at all, and Sarah didn’t do well with men. Two days in an environment she couldn’t escape from scared the crap out of her.
She’d never been on a yacht in her life—her privileged childhood in Ames, Georgia, had been all about golf, the country club, and fancy events in Atlanta. When she got married…well, Paul had hated the water, so the question of boating or even the beach never came up.
The knot in her stomach tightened.
“Do you have a sweatshirt?” Sophie asked. “You’re going to need one tonight. Liam has heaters for the deck, but it can still get chilly out there on the water this time of year.”
“I don’t have a sweatshirt. All I have is my raincoat. Will didn’t get anything out of my coat closet.” Sarah latched onto that thought. “I don’t have enough warm clothing to wear out on the water.”
“No problem.” Sophie pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket and swiped the screen. “I’ll call Henry and have him bring one of mine for you.” She was speaking to her husband before Sarah had a chance to object. “There. All set.” Sophie tucked the phone back in her pocket. “We caught him on his way out the door.”
Sarah tried another tack. “Do I need to bring any food or anything? I didn’t even think to prepare anything to contribute.”
“Nope.” Sophie smiled. “The Allegro has a fully stocked kitchen and a chef. Come on.”
Sarah verified the contents of the bag one more time before zipping it shut. She followed Sophie down the steps and made a final pass through the house, checking doors and windows.
“We checked everything twice before we went to bed last night.” Sophie led her gently but firmly away from the back door, which now had a deadbolt on it, thanks to Will and his toolbox. “Nothing’s changed. The apartment is secure.”
“Are you sure you didn’t open your window during the night?” When Sarah headed for the guest room, Sophie stopped her.
“I didn’t open it. We’re all good.” She gave Sarah a hug. “Stop stalling, Sarah. The others are waiting down on the dock. Let’s get moving.”
Patting the pocket of her white jeans to make certain she had her phone, Sarah gave a longing thought to the pistol tucked in the drawer by her bed. She’d seriously considered putting it in her bag, but she’d promised Dr. Benton in their first session that she wouldn’t carry it without getting a permit first and she hadn’t gotten to that paperwork yet. Besides, it wasn’t like they were going to get hijacked by pirates on Lake Michigan. Surely there were no pirates on the Great Lakes.
She locked the front door slowly, then leaned against the wooden screen door for a moment. “Have any boats ever been…you know, like…stopped or taken over out there?” Her heart rose to her throat as her imagination went wild with pictures of fierce bearded men in a beat-up scow brandishing guns and shouting obscenities, á la that Tom Hanks movie where his ship had been taken over by Somali terrorists.
Sophie blinked and shook her head as if to clear it. “Do you mean by the Coast Guard?”
“No, by like thieves or drug runners or”—Sarah suddenly felt very foolish as Sophie’s grin extended practically ear to ear—“never mind.”
“Pirates?” Sophie chortled. “You’re not seriously worrying about pirates.”
“I said never mind,” Sarah said defensively. She was being ridiculous. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a couple of deep cleansing breaths just as Dr
. Benton had taught her in their session earlier that week. In for five and out for five, in for five and out for five. When she opened her eyes, Sophie wore a cockeyed grin.
“Argh, matey.” Sophie closed one eye and offered up her version of a pirate’s grimace. “We need to be boardin’ that ship now before they set sail without us.”
“Cute, Soph, very cute.” Sarah’s sense of humor, which had been slowly reappearing over the past week, kicked in and she chuckled as they made their way down the stairs and down to the docks. They were steps from Liam and Carrie’s gleaming white yacht when something Sophie had said earlier struck her. “Wait. Did you say there’s a chef?”
“Well, sort of.” Sophie glanced over her shoulder as Sarah lagged behind. “It’s Tony, he pilots the boat and does all the cooking.”
“Tony?” Sarah squeaked and stopped dead in her tracks. “The deputy sheriff?” This time her heart rose to her throat for a completely different reason. She’d seen the handsome burly sheriff around town, but only at a distance and she hadn’t spoken to him. However, she had thought about him, more than once—thoughts that disturbed her, because she wasn’t at all interested in getting involved with any man.
“He’s coming on this trip?” She let her bag drop to the dock. “Shit, Sophie. You guys never said—”
Turning, Sophie fixed her eyes on Sarah. “Somebody has the drive the boat.”
“Why can’t Liam drive? It’s his boat.” Sarah’s stomach roiled. She simply wasn’t ready to face Tony Reynard again, not after she’d threatened to shoot him through the heart last time they’d met. And it wasn’t only that he was one more man she’d have to deal with for forty-eight hours, either. Even in her agitated state on that first day, she’d felt the pull of attraction to the handsome deputy and she simply wasn’t prepared to deal with that.
“Look, Tony’s the captain of the Allegro,” Sophie explained patiently. “It’s a big yacht. Big enough, I think, that the last guy who owned it had a whole crew, not just a pilot. Tony came with the boat; it’s how he and Liam met.”
“I thought he was the town handyman. That’s what he told me. And a deputy sheriff.”
“He wears a lot of hats. He’s also a housepainter and an amazing cook, which you’ll soon discover if we get our butts on the boat.” Sophie crossed the few feet between them. “Tony’s one of the good guys, I promise. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Sarah shivered, suddenly cold in the breeze coming off the bay. “Is his wife coming too? I’m not up for all this, Sophie, especially not if I’m going to be the odd woman out in a group of couples. Don’t make me do this.”
“He’s not married, so you won’t be the odd person—there’ll be eight of us, and Dr. Benton said you need to get out and be with people again.” Sophie laid her hand on Sarah’s trembling shoulder. “We’ll be on the water where no one can follow us. You can sit with a group of friends and have a meal without constantly looking over your shoulder. You can truly relax.” She put an arm around Sarah and pulled her into a warm hug. “Come on. This will be good for you.”
Sarah stood stiffly in the embrace, struggling against the fierce urge to bolt, to turn and flee back to the safety of the apartment. In her head, it all made perfect sense—the boat was the ideal environment for her first social gathering and the MPs were her friends. This wasn’t a crowded city venue; it was a boat headed out on Lake Michigan for a sunny warm May weekend.
Sophie had a valid point. She wouldn’t have to wonder if she was being followed or be sure to sit in the chair facing the entrance or keep a vigilant watch over every exit door. Dr. Benton had encouraged her to take the trip, to do anything that got her out of the apartment. Sarah’s rational mind understood why that was important if she was ever going to live a normal life.
But was it even possible for her to have a normal life?
“Besides, what’s safer than traveling with friends who love you, and having your own personal cop right there?” Sophie held her at arm’s length to peer into her face. “It’s another step forward, Sarah. One more tiny step toward freedom.”
“Okay, okay.” Although Sarah picked up her bag and marched toward the vessel, she stopped again as they arrived. “Hey, Soph.” She offered her new friend a beseeching look. “Could you… Could you not mention the whole pirate thing, okay?”
Sophie’s smile was tender. “Our secret, cross my heart.” And to make the point, she drew an imaginary X on her chest.
“Thanks.” Sarah squared her shoulders. “Well then, let’s get on the damn boat…matey.”
SIX
Sarah peered down the stairs to the main deck, trying to remember which side of the boat the kitchen, er, the galley, was on—left or right. Or was that starboard or port? She hadn’t mastered which was which yet, although she’d learned more about boats and the lingo that came with them in the last twelve hours than she’d ever cared to know. Somehow, the captain of the Allegro had managed to find the time to give her a tour of the yacht that included every square inch of the huge vessel.
She’d been duly impressed by the massive boat with its dark-paneled main salon, a dining room, a gourmet kitchen, six sleeping cabins, each with a beautifully outfitted en-suite bathroom, and upper and main decks. Below deck was storage, an engine room, and space for what Tony referred to as mechanicals, which from the look of it, meant laundry, plumbing, and electrical. The lowest area also included the crew’s quarters, which this weekend consisted only of Captain Reynard.
It was like a floating house; Sophie had been right on about that. Except for the lifeboats tucked into the ceiling of the main deck, Sarah could’ve been staying in lovely B&B. Well, that and the fact that she was surrounded by the gray-blue waters of Lake Michigan.
She found the door to the kitchen and pushed it open. She needed some crackers or something so she could take the damn antidepressant she’d forgotten to take with her breakfast a couple of hours earlier. She’d discovered she needed to take the medicine with food or it nauseated her, which was why she normally swallowed the pill with her morning coffee and bagel. She had only been on the drug about a week, so the effects of the medication weren’t noticeable yet. But Dr. Benton had insisted on the prescription—just for a little while, she’d said. Sarah had agreed reluctantly—she hated drugs of any kind.
“Hello!” Tony Reynard, swathed in a spotless, if wet, white butcher’s apron, stood at the sink loading dishes into the biggest dishwasher Sarah had ever seen.
She stopped in the open doorway. “Oh, hi.”
Well, that was scintillating.
“Can I help you?” His smile crinkled the lines around his amber-brown eyes. “You need something?”
Sarah felt that smile all the way to her toes. “I was looking for something to nibble on—a cracker or something.”
“Oh sure.” He shut the dishwasher and dried his hand on the towel he’d slung over his shoulder. “How about these?” He pulled a box of Wheat Thins from a cabinet. “I can slice you some cheese to go with them.”
“No thanks, just the crackers are fine.” Sarah accepted the box, shocked at the zing that went through her when their fingers touched. This man’s effect on her was bewildering and alarming and heady. She let the process of opening the box and pulling out a few crackers cover her confusion.
“Who’s driving the boat?” she asked, reaching for a napkin from a basket on the stainless steel island.
“Liam. He and Will take turns out here on the open water. It’s not a problem. I probably wouldn’t trust either of them to bring the old girl into the bay or the marina, though.” He folded the towel over the handle on the dishwasher. “Have a seat, why don’t you?” He indicated a couple of stools with a nod. “I was just thinking about having another cup of coffee while I figure out what I’m going to make for supper tonight, if you’d care to join me.”
Astonishingly, curiosity won out over anxiety if it meant a chance to get to know Tony Reynard, so Sarah pushed down the e
ver-present urge to cut and run and walked slowly to the stool. Unlike many abused women, she’d never had any desire to find another relationship. The very idea of a man touching her was repellant, which meant there was never any hoping against hope that this time she’d choose more wisely. She’d simply avoided the cruel cycle altogether by not dating again after her divorce. Her interest in Tony both intrigued and worried her, but what was the harm in having a cup of coffee?
Tony poured two mugs of coffee and put a handful of creamer pods in front of her. “Two creams, no sugar, right?” He settled on the stool next to hers.
“Right. Thank you.” Sarah sipped her coffee, very aware of how big this man was—at least twice her size.
“What’s everyone else up to?” Tony asked, looking relaxed and handsome in his jeans and a wild Hawaiian print shirt, which Carrie had told her was his uniform on the boat. Today’s was all shades of tangerine, hot pink, and navy blue, and she had to confess the look worked for him. He sported a backward baseball cap that he yanked off to run his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.
“The women are upstairs playing that dice game again. Will and Henry are fishing off the…stern?” She hesitated over the term.
“The back of the boat?” He grinned when she nodded. “Yup, that’s the stern. And the front is the…?”
Saving Sarah Page 5
