by Pol Robinson
Pol Robinson - Open Water
Pol Robinson
Bella Books (2011)
* * *
Dismissed as washed up due to injury, Cass Flynn has just found out she’s been elevated from alternate to competitor for the Double Scull US Rowing Team on its way to China. With only a few weeks until the event debuts with the whole world watching, she is itching to prove she can still row at world-class speeds. It’s her last chance—at 32 she can’t afford to wait another four years.
Aloof 28-year-old Stroke-of-the-Eights rower Laura Kelley doubts her last minute teammate’s suitability as much as anyone, but has little time to dwell on it. Her own inconsistency since the suicide of her ex’s younger sister has not gone unnoticed, and her ex’s appearance at training camp literally rocks the boat.
Driven by their own hearts to compete at speeds thought impossible only years earlier, Cass and Laura plunge into training with one goal in mind: gold. Fate has other plans, and medals aren’t the only things at risk.
Pol Robinson’s debut romance novel dives into the ultimate competition with a riveting story of world-class athletes and the passions that drive them.
About the Author
Pol Robinson is a displaced Wisconsin graduate and resident now living in southern California. A childhood spent watching the Badgers and Packers lose shaped her interest in, and love of, all things sport-related and engendered a love of the underdog. A couple of post-graduate degrees and 11 years in the USAF/A later, she is a professor and doctoral student in the Los Angeles area, where she lives with her partner and their brilliant dog, Charlie. An avid fan of rowing, Pol was stunned to be recruited to the USC Rowing squad while on a flight back from Hawaii, an opportunity she hated to turn down, but one that served to rekindle her sporting spirit. From that experience, and subsequent participation in Master’s rowing events, was born her first novel, Open Water.
Copyright © 2011 by Pol Robinson
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First published 2011
Editor: Katherine V. Forrest
Cover Designer: Linda Callaghan
ISBN 13: 978-1-59493-229-8
Dedication
To the Olympians among us; both the Special and the able-bodied. You embody an ideal to which we all aspire.
For Sheryl.
Always.
Acknowledgments
Longfellow wrote, “Look, then, into thine heart, and write!” A moving directive, to be sure, but a writer can only get so far on heart alone; the rest comes from research, from community, from family. The following are representative of those who contributed directly or indirectly to this project: various rowing clubs across the country for providing invaluable information on their websites on terminology and proper technique; members of the Radlist who responded so positively to the original short story; NaNoWriMo for the impetus to hit that tantalizing 50k bar; and the GCLS for the tremendous community and opportunity that splendid and growing organization offers readers and aspiring authors. Additionally, my online families—the Bella Forum and GateWorld especially—provided cheers and spurs as needed.
Thanks to athletes—both active and armchair—and coaches at all levels. Credit for this project goes to Gypsy who said so long ago, “You should do this,” and to Sheryl who said emphatically, “You can do this.” Extra special thanks to Jeanne Magill for expeditious first and last readings and marvelous critiques. I am so grateful to Linda Hill, Katherine V. Forrest and the Bella team who have been so supportive and welcoming. Last, but by no means least, thank you to my family: Sheryl, Matthew, Megan, and Charlie (the wonder dog). Without your love and support (and enthusiastic tail-wags), this book would not be...and neither would I.
Prologue
“Just lie still.”
“Where am I?”
“You’re at St. John’s Hospital, you’ve been in an accident.”
Blurry, indistinct faces floated in and out of her line of sight. A cacophony of sound battered at her senses, pulling her focus from the words coming from the mouth at her ear. There was something she needed to know, something...
Later, the voice was back.
“Cassandra, we’re going to have to take you to the operating room. Is there anyone we can call?”
No, there’s nobody. I don’t have anybody. Cass tried to get the words out, her grief at just those few words darkening her face. Finally she forced out, “M’leg. What’s...I can’t feel my–” Even that effort cost her and she collapsed back against the bed.
The voice hurried to reassure her, “I know it hurts, honey, but we have to call someone.”
“Nobody...nobody to call,” she mumbled, trying to clear her head of the haze. My leg. Oh my God. I can’t...no, it’s just not there.
Cass fought back panic and tears. She felt her throat close up and she began to gasp for air. It was over. She’d be lucky to walk again, let alone get into a boat to row. She blinked up into the light, turning her face away as the mask slowly descended. Voices around her raised as she fought to stay away, desperate to know what was happening.
“Please,” she whispered into the clear plastic mask. “Please don’t take my leg.”
Chapter One
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin boarding United Airlines flight 8460, bound for Beijing. Passengers holding tickets...”
Cass jumped as the woman’s voice boomed out of the speaker just above her head. She tuned out the rest of the boarding call as she flipped her book closed and patted her pocket for her ticket. Around her, the general hubbub of voices grew as people came to life with the boarding call, everyone gathering their bags and extras and moving to stand in line. Cass watched the odd sampling of humanity that made up her fellow passengers begin to crowd to the gate.
Why is everyone so eager to stuff themselves into a tin can? We’ll be in that thing for nearly sixteen hours. What’s the rush?
Taking advantage of the announcement to stretch her legs one last time, Cass slipped her carry-on over her shoulder and moved to the window and gazed at the huge silver aircraft. Nose, two wings, lots of engines...top floor, windows for the pilot to see out of...looks okay to me. Cass watched as a tall blond woman in a dark blue uniform chatted with a scruffy-looking member of the ground crew. The man, wearing bulky kneepads and ear protectors, laughed at something the woman said, then gestured toward the rear of the plane. He looked up at the uniformed woman, then made a note on the clipboard in his hands. The woman peered over his shoulder and nodded sharply; then, taking the clipboard from him, she patted the man briefly on the shoulder and began to walk around the plane.
“Ma’am?”
Cass turned to find the loud gate announcer at her elbow. Her polyester uniform ironed to a shine, the woman eagerly reached to take Cass’s arm.
“Ma’am, if you’ll come with me, we have your boarding pass all set up.”
“Um, I think there’s been a mistake, I have my boarding pass here...”
“No, ma’am. We are overbooked and had to make some changes.” The gate attendant glanced around conspiratorially, then lowered her voice. “See, the captain is a fan and saw that we were overbooked and then noticed that you were in coach, so...”
Uh-oh. Shifting her feet, Cass pulled her arm free. “Uh, fan? But...I’m not anybody.” What, does the guy think I’m some gullible actress?
The woman tugged again and Cass planted her feet. “Look. No offense and, um, tell your captain I a
ppreciate it, but I really don’t like taking those kinds of favors.” No telling how I’d have to “pay’”for the upgrade. No thanks. “Tell him that—”
“Her.”
“What?”
“Her. Captain Landers is a ‘her.’ Or I should say, Captain Landers is a ‘she.’” The attendant cocked her head slightly, then suddenly smiled at Cass. “Oh, honey, it’s not like that. The skipper’s just a former rower, er, ‘sweeper’ I think she called it. Anyway, she was tickled when she saw your name on the manifest.” She patted Cass’s arm and shepherded her to the gate, past the long line of now-curious passengers. “C’mon dear, you let Cecelia handle things, okay?”
Amused now, Cass followed Cecelia down the ramp to the plane, listening to her chatter about how Landers was an “almost national” sweep-oarsman a few years back and how she, Cecelia, had never heard of sweeping before—aside from the whole broom and dirt thing—but now they, the whole San Diego-to-Beijing crew, knew all about Cass and how she was joining the team late and they were all sending her their wishes for her success in the upcoming Games. Just listening to the woman wore Cass out and she was glad when she was handed off to the flight crew.
“Hi, Cassandra Flynn?” Barely waiting for Cass’s nod, the new attendant quickly ushered Cass into first class. “I’m Meredith, nice to meet you. Wow, the Skip is so excited! You know she used to row for Cal, right? She said to tell you that if you don’t mind she’d like to come out and chat with you sometime during the flight, is that okay?”
Like Cecelia, Meredith barely paused for breath, seeming to expect nothing more than the occasional nod in response. Cass obliged and settled into the spacious seat next to the window, letting the perky Meredith stow her carry-on bag above her head. After another minute or two of excited gushing, Meredith took off to help the other passengers settle in, leaving Cass to her “peruse the safety card” preflight ritual.
“That won’t help much, you know.”
The low voice in her ear surprised her and Cass looked over her shoulder to find a pair of laughing blue eyes, framed by the gentle crease of lines that traced a face that had seen its share of the sun. Oh my, what have we here?
The eyes belonged to the body Cass had seen earlier on the tarmac, encased in the blue uniform and walking around the plane. The body straightened and Cass was forced to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. Tall and blond in that “I’m Swedish and proud of it” way, the newcomer was at least six feet tall by Cass’s guess; she would easily top Coach Thompson’s five-foot, nine-inch frame. Cass guessed the woman was about twenty years her senior, somewhere in her late forties or early fifties. Her dark blue uniform was pressed to within an inch of its life, the razor’s edge creases of her trousers breaking evenly just above her shined shoes. The care taken to look sharp spoke volumes to Cass about the woman wearing it. Broad shoulders decked out in five gold bars bespoke her rank, as did the marks on her sleeve identifying her years of service. She stood leaning gently against the back of the seat in front of Cass, one arm casually draped along its top. Cass let her eyes drift again to the face above her, unconsciously returning the easy smile she found on the tanned face, enjoying the mischief that lurked in the bright blue eyes.
Cass herself, at five foot three, was on the short side for a sculler, especially a double sculler, one of only two in a boat. She could see from the reaction that she was not what the captain expected.
Captain Anne Landers stepped forward and grinned down at Cass tucked comfortably in the first-class seat before her. Small and made even smaller by the large leather seat, Cass Flynn did not look like an Olympic-level sculler. She looked more like a co-ed on her way home for the term. Anne knew, however, that looks were deceiving. Packed into that small body was the equivalent of a small package of dynamite. Soft brown eyes sparkled up at her under a mop of curly brown hair that reached just past her powerful shoulders; shoulders that Anne knew could propel a shell through the water at an amazing speed. Yes, Cass Flynn was tiny but mighty, as her own partner might say. Landers knew it was cliché, but she couldn’t resist, “You’re much shorter in person. Do you get that a lot?”
Cass raised an eyebrow in response, then her grin mirrored Captain Landers’. “How’s the weather up there, Stretch? Do you get that a lot?”
Landers threw back her head and laughed heartily, drawing looks from the boarding passengers; one man not-so-subtly nudging her as he moved past. Ignoring him, Anne stepped into Cass’s row and asked, “Mind if I sit for a minute? It’s getting kind of crowded in here.”
Shrugging one shoulder, Cass tilted her head to the empty aisle seat next to her. “Sure, be my guest. It’s your plane, right?” Cass’s gaze traveled from the Captain’s shoulders down to the hash marks on her sleeve.
Anne followed her glance and smiled again as she caught Cass’s final look at her left hand. “Yup, it’s my plane and yup, I’m married...or as much as the government will allow.” She waited, her smile growing as Cass caught her meaning. “Not to worry, this isn’t some awkward pickup,” she reassured Cass. Landers looked again at the safety card in Cass’s hand and gestured with her chin, “I was not kidding about that card, by the way. As high as we’ll be, that little bit of paper won’t be much help.”
Cass’s gulp was audible and she slid the emergency procedure pamphlet back into the seat holder. “Uh...great. Well, thanks so much for stopping by, I feel so much better now.”
The captain chuckled as she stretched out in the seat, watching as the remaining passengers shuffled aboard carrying everything from large bags to small animals. Shaking her head as a man wrestled what appeared to be a cello down the narrow aisle, she returned her attention to the woman next to her. Cass Flynn is on my plane! Janie’s gonna freak when she hears. I’ve got to get her autograph without sounding like a complete dolt. In her college days, Anne had been a skilled sweep rower, one of eight on a crew, but she had been nowhere near good enough to make the national team. Her partner, Jane Zimmerman, had been a member of her college’s eights crew, but she too had missed the cut for anything beyond that level of competition.
Anne and Janie were still avid followers of the sport, however, and Anne was still trying to get Janie an open berth on a partner airline so they could catch the heats together live in Beijing. She couldn’t believe her luck today when she’d spotted Cass’s name on the manifest for this, her last flight before her vacation began. After checking the rest of the manifest, Anne had called the gate crew, and made a simple request. She did not often ask favors of the crew and Cecelia had been happy to make the change she requested. A few keystrokes later and Anne Landers found herself seated next to one of the best scullers in the country.
Cass studied the woman who had planted herself in the seat beside her. Presumably, this was the mysterious “Captain Landers” who was responsible for her bump up to first class. Up close, she could see the laugh lines that framed the bright blue eyes and their matching partners around the edges of her ready smile. As the flow of passengers began to slow, Cass, remembering her manners, cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. “Hey, thanks for the upgrade, I appreciate it. I’m Cass Flynn.”
“Oh Lord.” Anne stuck out her hand. “Anne Landers and you’re welcome.” Anne clasped Cass’s hand in a cool, firm grip. She grimaced slightly as Cass’s eyes widened. “I know, not the Ann Landers. To quote somebody, I am Anne with an ‘e,’ and that makes me, um, not her.” She chuckled as Cass grinned back at her.
“And...well, she’s dead, isn’t she?”
“Well, yeah, there’s that, too.”
Cass waited as Anne paused and scratched her head. “So, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I am a huge fan of yours. If you don’t mind, can I pop back during the flight to chat a bit?”
“Sure. But, um...don’t you have to do that ‘flying’ thing?”
“Nah, it kind of flies itself, really. Besides, Jim can take care of the in-the-middle bits. I just do the up and down bit
s.”
Again Anne paused and Cass wondered why. The captain had made a special effort to make her more comfortable and now seemed hesitant to talk to her. Finally, Anne spoke up again. “Look, if you need to rest, or are tired, or, whatever, it’s really okay. I can—”
Cass shook her head. “No, really, it’s great. Ah, Cecelia said that you used to row?”
“Yes, I—”
Meredith’s voice came over the loudspeaker, interrupting Anne’s answer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention for just a moment...”
“Crud.” A small frown crossed her features as Anne pulled herself out of the seat and glanced into the flight deck while Meredith began her preflight recitation over the intercom. “Okay, time to get to it. I’ll pop back later. Really, though, if you’re tired or have things to do, just do them. I won’t bug you.” Despite her assurances, Cass sensed that the self-assured captain felt awkward about intruding.
Charmed by the older woman, Cass gently teased the pilot, “Great, I’d love to hear how it was in the old days.”
Anne’s loud, throaty laugh filled the cabin again as she brushed her trousers straight. “Old days!” She snorted again with laughter and tossed a last smile at the brunette grinning up at her. “Fine, youngster, I’ll be back to bother you later.”
Chapter Two
Cass sighed and readjusted the pillow at her shoulder. The takeoff from San Diego had been uneventful and the flight the smoothest she could remember in a long time. Unfortunately, rain had obscured her view of the ground after takeoff, depriving Cass of the chance to see the training center from the air. As she often did when flying, Cass let her mind wander, trying not to focus too much on what awaited her at the end of her flight. The thrill of it all was there, though, tucked away safely. Every once in a while she would let herself revel in the idea that she was going to the Olympics. The Olympics! A dream since childhood, it had faded with time. Even taking up rowing in graduate school had not really reawakened the dream. It was a fantasy, really. What team would want a nearly thirty-year-old athlete with no proven records? No solid international standing?
