by Jean James
“How long have you had this boat?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“About a week.” She nibbled a piece of clam and tried to act nonchalant.
“This isn’t your first boat, then.”
“First boat,” she admitted without meeting his eyes.
“How big?”
“Forty feet. It belonged to a charter boat captain—Dale Townsend.”
“Captain Townsend’s old boat?” Lee choked. He looked at her in amazement. “So that’s why you came to my class. That’s a lot of boat for one person to handle, especially someone new to boating.”
“I’ve run her a few times with Captain Dale’s help. He taught me a lot—and I’m studying every chance I get.”
“What would a real estate salesperson want with a boat like that? Do you intend to sell islands to fishermen?” His face showed amusement.
“I hope I won’t be involved in real estate sales at all.” She would never tell him her plans for the boat, not after his insults of her casting. She could already hear him laughing.
A dark look came over his face, the same one she had witnessed that morning in the alley and again in her kitchen when he fixed the Epsom salts. It unnerved her.
After a while, he seemed to throw off his mood and looked at her thoughtfully. “Would you like a tour in my motor boat? I could introduce you to some of the channels and inland waterways around this area. How about Saturday?”
She started to accept what sounded like a wonderful prospect. But her caution stepped in with a blinking red light and reminded her of the Amanos. Lee could easily use such a trip to do away with her. It sounded far-fetched, but so did the words she heard from that barrel. She couldn’t take the chance, not with anyone, not yet.
“I…can’t this weekend.” She saw his disappointment and felt her own. “Maybe later. Maybe Thursday or Friday next week. “ Maybe by next week she would know more about him.
“Will you come to next Tuesday’s class?”
“Certainly.”
“Don’t eat before you come…would you like more fish? Some dessert? I didn’t think you could do it, but you’ve emptied the platter. That’s a first for one of my dates.”
“I’m glad I’m a date. The bill for this will be astronomical,” she teased. “I believe I will have dessert, but first maybe a few more crab legs—and a dab more of that butter sauce dip.”
“I’ve created a monster, but I’ll share some more crab with you while we wait for dessert.” When he brought back another sizeable platter of crab legs, she feared she couldn’t live up to her boast.
“I’ve never tasted seafood like this. It has…flavor.”
“No wonder. I’ve noticed your license tag. Where would you get fresh seafood like this way up there? These critters came straight from the water. Where in Illinois did you live?”
“Chicago.”
“Why’d you leave? Too cold for you?
“Much too cold, and it was something I’d planned for a long time.” She didn’t intend to reveal much, especially the car incident in Chicago.
The arrival of their colorful dessert prevented further conversation. Katherine stared in awe at the tall, orange mousse in front of her. Covered with crushed strawberry sauce and topped with whipped cream, it looked too beautiful to eat. “Oh!” she wailed. “I shouldn’t have ordered more crab legs, but you…” she pointed an accusing finger at him, “you goaded me on.”
“I didn’t want you to suffer hunger pains and blame me,” he said with a pleased expression.
They both managed to empty their dessert dishes.
“You didn’t leave anything for the garbage pail. Are you always that hungry?”
“I don’t generally leave food, but I couldn’t have eaten one more item tonight.”
“Good. I haven’t failed you after all.”
When they went out to their vehicles, Lee drew a map for her.
“This route’s the best way back to Naples from here…by the way, I plan to take this route myself, and I hate the thought of a flat tire late at night with no one around to help change it. Would you follow me—just in case I need aid?”
She laughed at his clever offer of protection and began to trust him. “After you, brave knight,” she quipped.
9
Katherine stayed too busy to worry extensively about her precarious situation for the next few days. The move from a house to a small area like a boat turned into a more involved undertaking than she had expected. She skipped her morning walks, and even slept aboard the Miss Iris so she could work late on the boat.
She purchased two, ten-inch-thick pieces of foam and twelve yards of navy blue and white print fabric. Although she had a sewing machine at her house and could have worked comfortably there, she preferred to work at her boat without the machine’s motor vying with the sounds of lapping water and fish jumping. At night, she sewed by hand a complete set of curtains for all of the small windows. With the remaining portion of the material, she covered the pieces of foam, which became mattresses for the built-in wooden beds.
Amazed at the difference those made in the cabin, Katherine went on another shopping spree the next day and came back laden with interesting packages. She was excited about the transformation she could now clearly visualize.
The first bundle consisted of half a dozen, red and blue pillows, two small bedspreads that matched the decor, two marine wall lamps, a floor-length, unbreakable mirror, blue and red potholders with matching dishtowels, and an inexpensive set of colorful, unbreakable dishes, tumblers, and cups.
After she had placed everything just so, she brought in a deep, soft, navy-blue rug with rubber backing. Measuring and cutting it to size, she spread it over her tiny cabin floor. It stayed in place nicely, yet she could easily take it up and dry it if she ever forgot the bilge pump again. The carpet made the greatest difference in the cabin and officially marked the end of her moving tasks.
She stood in the doorway of the cabin and surveyed the changes. The cabin now looked like a clean, cozy apartment, and she had captured the nautical effect. She wished she could show it to someone.
Finally she brought in her last bundle. She spread its contents out on the two beds and gloated over the rainbow-hued pile of new clothes—uncrushable garments. She hadn’t been able to resist the purchase of a fresh look for herself as well as her boat, but she only bought clothes that wouldn’t wrinkle when folded and stacked with other garments. She fingered the wonderful fabrics and found it difficult to fold them away and crawl into bed.
When morning arrived, Katherine was tempted to laze around since she didn’t have to go to work. But her plans for the day didn’t include rest.
It took only minutes to make the bunk back into a sofa, slip into her boating clothes, and prepare for her first solo voyage. Breakfast would have to wait. She wanted to start early so that fewer boaters could observe her novice boatmanship. She tried the ignition and the engine started.
Her heart thumped in excitement. She threw off the mooring lines and steered the Miss Iris out of the slip and towards the channel. The engine ran barely above an idle, but it still seemed too fast. When she safely entered the buoy-lined main channel, she sighed in relief.
At trolling speed, she headed down the bay. Everything went smoothly, and she had actually started to enjoy herself when out ahead she saw the pass into open water. She almost panicked. The bay had ended. She had done it all before, the water looked calm, and much smaller boats zoomed around in the Gulf with no trouble.
“Time to go for it, Captain.” Katherine headed into the Gulf.
The water looked tranquil and clear—so blue. She could easily make out the shallower areas of sand bars. She was tempted to weigh anchor and just sit there offshore for a while, but she finally opted for more practice.
She circled and headed back into the bay. When she neared her home docks, she circled again and repeated her first trip. The second time she reached home she attempted her firs
t solo docking. It took two tries and some minor bumps, but she accomplished the task.
At that moment, Katherine realized how much she loved the Miss Iris. She wanted to clean her, pamper her, and listen to the water lap against the hull. She wanted to smell the salt air and forget Chicago with its noise, traffic, and cold weather. Most of all, she wanted to forget the dead-end feeling she used to have. She was glad she had bought the Miss Iris.
She idled away the rest of the day—read for a while and finally fished from the docks. Late in the afternoon, fishing yielded a snapper, which she took into her tiny galley for a celebration supper of her first solo trip.
In the morning, Iris walked with Katherine to church again. Katherine was pleased at Iris’s growing hunger for outside associations. Iris had confided in her that she rarely had visitors and that she had hardly left her property during the last twenty years except to buy groceries. Now she attended all the services the church afforded whether Katherine accompanied her or not.
Katherine turned to ask for a hymnal and noticed Lee. He took a seat near the back of the church. By service end, he had disappeared as before, and she wondered where he went.
“I’m so glad the Miss Iris is docked near you and the church,” Katherine mentioned on their walk home.
“Ya need to give her a new name when ya paint her. That was a fool thing for Dale to do, namin’ her after me.”
“The name seems to fit her. I like it.”
“Fiddlesticks with that. Name her somethin’ that fits ya, something that sounds adventurous.”
“You mean like Miss Adventure? I definitely don’t need a misadventure, right now.”
Between work duties and short test runs with the Miss Iris, Tuesday was upon Katherine before she realized it. She dressed in one of her new acquisitions, a violet sundress with straps of tiny roses, in anticipation of her boating class that night. She waited until the last minute to show up for work so that she wouldn’t be alone with Buzzy or Johnny. Johnny had become a slight problem, showing up unexpectedly during her off work hours.
Relieved to find only Buzzy to contend with, she quickly started work and hoped he hadn’t taken note of her arrival. Just as she began typing a contract, he walked over.
“You know what, Katherine? That Johnny of mine just put through an impressive deal. When you get your license, I may want you to work with him. You’re a hard worker, too, and you two would make a good team—Kathy and Johnny. You’d probably become my top selling team.” He chuckled as he walked back into his office.
Though he hadn’t made any fresh advances, this new fatherly Buzzy revolted her almost as much as the other one. Now he wanted to pair her off with Johnny. In some instances, his pride of his son might be commendable, but she found it nauseating.
She wondered how she would feel if she had a son like Johnny. Could she still love him, knowing the horrendous deeds that he had committed, or was this father guilty of worse crimes?
Lee’s reaction to her dress that night more than lived up to her expectations. He said nothing, but took her hand and looked at her until she became embarrassed.
“I think the class just called for their teacher.” She laughed self-consciously and pulled her hand away.
Their eyes met often while he taught. She wondered if she had fallen for Lee, or for the glamour of Florida and her new lifestyle. Would Lee seem as attractive to her if they both lived in Chicago? She was deep in thought when a hand tapped her shoulder.
“Wake up. Class dismissed—time to eat.”
“My turn to treat. I saw a fast-food establishment just a block away.”
He gave her a withering glance. “No chance, Captain. We have other plans. Do you trust me to drive this week, or do you plan to follow behind again?”
“If you drive like you teach, I’m sure I’ll feel safe. Lead on,” she quipped.
“Sometimes I’m not sure about you, Kate.”
Instead of taking Katherine to a restaurant, he drove to a beach she had never seen before, a lonely stretch of sand at a lonely time of night. Noting a few other cars parked there, she prepared to enjoy herself.
“This is Wiggin’s pass. Sometimes I come here at night to fish,” he explained as he brought baskets and bags out of the back of his Jeep.
She helped carry them and noted the dark shapes of people fishing at the water’s edge. Lee spread a blanket for her and turned on a small battery powered lantern. It gave adequate light for his work without breaking the mood of the place. Within minutes, he had a fire started in a small grill he brought.
“The warmth feels good. I felt chilly until you built the fire.”
“People used to build bonfires down here and spend all night on the beach. The authorities frown on that now, but we can make this fire bigger after we’re through cooking as long as it doesn’t outgrow the grill.”
“Oh, will we cook? Do I have to catch the fish we eat?”
“With your casting? We’d starve.”
She quickly dug both hands into the white sand, blatantly showing him her evil intent, and he just as precipitously trapped them beneath his own. She saw his split second of hesitation quickly turn to brashness as he leaned forward and kissed her lips.
“My apologies, Ma’am. Am I forgiven?” he entreated while he still had her hands pinned and harmless.
To hide how shaken his kiss had left her, she purposely pretended to misunderstand why he sought forgiveness.
“Sir, I had snapper for supper last night, in spite of my poor casting. What did you have?”
“Hamburger—slightly burnt.” He released her hands and grinned.
“I guess I came to the wrong place for dinner if that’s how you cook.”
When she jumped up, he grabbed her hands again.
“Not my fault. The phone rang, and I couldn’t get off the line. Besides, you’re stranded. No boat, no car—just me.”
“I still have my legs.”
“Yes…I’ve noticed that,” he bantered with half-comical, half-meaningful glance.
“You’re standing on dangerous sand.”
“Please forgive me. I promise—no more jokes about your casting…tonight, anyway.”
She sat back comfortably on the blanket, and he brought out an assortment of seafood. On one side of the grill, he arranged shrimp, fish, oysters on the half-shell, and two lobster tails. On the other side, he set a small, blackened saucepan, which he filled with water.
He left and returned with a piece of green stick, which he placed across the top of the pan.
“Excuse me—but what sort of brew are you concocting in that little pan?”
“Heating water for tea or coffee. The stick keeps it from boiling over—usually. Don’t ask how.” He took a minute to move some of the seafood towards the cooler edges of the grill before returning his attention to Katherine.
“Does your family live in Illinois or Florida?”
“Neither. My father died when I was twelve, and my mother lives in New York. What about your family?”
“Both of my parents have passed on.”
“I’m sorry…any other family?”
“I had an aunt, my best buddy, but I lost her recently. Coffee or tea ma’am?” he changed the subject.
“It seems like a coffee night.”
“Coffee it is, then.”
He poured some grounds into the boiling water and served the seafood. While they ate, he bombarded her with a seemingly endless supply of questions: What did she do in Chicago? How long had she done it? With what office? Why did she leave? How did she get the job with Buzzy Amano? Why did she buy the Miss Iris?
She answered as honestly as possible, but avoided any mention of Laura’s bank problem or of her terrifying car incident in Chicago.
“So you quit your job, secured another one over the phone, and moved the next day. If you’d considered this move for years, why the sudden haste?”
“Haven’t you ever just reached the point where enough is enoug
h? I was ready, and I did it—the same way I bought the boat,” she snapped at him and put down her plate in exasperation.
“You mean she who hesitates is lost?”
“Exactly.” The words no sooner left her mouth than she realized she had fallen right into his trap. She was suddenly wrapped close in strong arms, a rough cheek pressed hard against hers, and his lips close by her ear.
“Like this you mean?” he asked huskily, kissed her shoulder, her neck, and ultimately found her lips that parted in shock.
For a minute, she allowed herself the warmth of his closeness. She could feel his strong heartbeat through his soft flannel shirt, and then it seemed as if it was her heartbeat. She freed one arm and gently pushed him away, but his warmth lingered with her as they sat for a while in silence.
“Let’s walk,” he suggested, and reached for her hand.
Her fear totally gone, she strolled with him down the beach. The surf rolling around their feet felt warmer than she had expected. In the four weeks since she’d moved there, the temperature had warmed, especially during the last week.
“I see gray shadows crossing back and forth on the beach. Is it an illusion?” she asked and broke the silence.
“Ghost crabs. You have to be quick to catch one.”
They chased and laughed until they had scared all the crabs into holes. When they returned to the dying coals of their fire, Lee lay back on the blanket with his hands behind his head. For the longest time he said nothing. Although she looked out to sea, she could feel his penetrating eyes. She finally turned and met his gaze.
“Will you come here with me again? We could fish, and eat. The later it gets, the nicer it gets. Will you come?” he asked again wistfully.
“I love the ocean at night. I once spent almost an entire night on the pier. Remember that morning you caught me napping in my car?”
“I’ll consider it a date, then. We’ll pick a night when you don’t have to work the next day.”
“I’d love that, and I’ll bring the picnic next time.”
A feeling of awe and sweet companionship lingered with Katherine as they reluctantly packed to go. Had something real happened, or had the enchantment of the place seduced her feelings. Whatever had happened, he seemed to feel it, too.
