Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance

by Anna J. Stewart

  “I’ve always felt that stupid horse that threw me ended up saving my life. I spent a few weeks in that clinic, working through a whole lot of stuff I didn’t know had piled up. Nana was there for all of it. Once I was discharged, I went to live with her in her house on the beach. She changed everything for me. She stopped going on her trips, backed out of a lot of her obligations. She made me the sole focus of her life. When I wasn’t in school, we did everything together. Traveled, read, played.” She blinked back tears when Monty’s arm tightened around her shoulder. “I know my father’s never had any particular use for me, but that he’d exploit what happened all those years ago? It hurts. It hurts so much. And it makes me so angry!” She pounded a fist against her leg. “He knows what people will infer from reading that. He knows! And he doesn’t care.” How could she have been so stupid as to think marrying Richard would have changed anything where her father was concerned? “How can a parent do that to their child?”

  “I don’t know.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head. “You were right not to go to him after the wedding. I never should have suggested you do that.”

  She wasn’t so sure. Maybe it would have been better...if she’d had the courage to finally stand up to him.

  “Did you ever get that dog?” Monty’s question caught her off guard.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Nana had an allergy. And, besides, the older I got, the less time we spent at home. I’m not that twelve-year-old girl anymore, Monty. I’m not fragile. I cracked, but I didn’t break. And I won’t. Not now. Not ever.”

  “Of course, you won’t.” He reached down and picked up the mug. “Now drink your victory drink. We’re going to get in a few more hours of sailing before bunking down for the night.”

  She nodded, relishing the sensation of his T-shirt against her cheek. He felt so good. So warm and perfect. She could smell the ocean on his skin, the spice and citrus of the soap and shampoo he used. This, she thought and squeezed her eyes closed.

  This was what feeling cared for, protected and secure felt like.

  And she dreaded having to let him go.

  * * *

  “WHAT EXACTLY IS the Cocoon Club?”

  Monty glanced over to where Sienna was stationed on the padded bench in the wheelhouse, notes in one hand, his cell phone in the other. She was skimming through the endless list of tasks Frankie had emailed him as a follow-up to her conversation with Sienna.

  Keeping one eye on the growing storm clouds overhead, he said, “It’s a group of senior citizens. I think there’s more than a dozen now in the group. Or maybe gang is a better word to describe them. Most of them live together in this big Victorian house that’s been outfitted for senior living. Senior shenanigans is more like it. They often nose their way into people’s lives, but it’s always from the heart. Ezzie, Roman’s mom, is what you’d probably call their caregiver. Why?”

  “Just going over the table assignments for the reception. Is there a reason why Frankie would not want them all sitting together?”

  Monty grinned. “That would be the shenanigans. You remember back in school, there was always this group of kids who, when they got together, trouble seemed to follow? Not malicious trouble, just...things getting a bit out of control? That’s the Cocoon Club. Two or three together is usually pretty safe. Any more than that and it’s just a matter of time before they make headline news.”

  Sienna didn’t look up from scribbling. “I hope I’m exciting when I get that old. I’ll wait on separating them. It looks like instead of one large buffet, Jason’s setting up various food tents in the park, is that right?”

  “No idea.” Monty reached over and clicked on the VHF receiver. He really didn’t like the look of those clouds rolling in. And the wind was picking up. Time to check the weather again. “I just wait for Frankie to tell me if she needs me to do anything and I do it. As far as I know, I only have one job.”

  “Right. You’re giving her away.”

  “Oh-ho-no.” Monty shook his head. “I am escorting her down the aisle. No one gives Frankie away except Frankie.”

  Sienna chuckled. “Noted. According to this, Frankie still hasn’t decided on a cake. How is that possible? The wedding’s in less than two weeks.”

  “She doesn’t have to.” Monty shot a look at his copilot. Duchess, perched on the railing beside him, gazed wide-eyed at the horizon. “Gale at Chrysalis Bakery has this gift for choosing the perfect flavor for her customers’ wedding cakes. She’s never wrong, so Frankie turned it over to her. It’ll be a surprise.”

  “So, does that mean I shouldn’t check in on it?” She nibbled on the end of her pen. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

  “I’d say checking in on the cake gives you the perfect excuse to visit the Chrysalis and test Gale’s gift yourself.” He heard the distinctive beep, beep, beep coming from the radio and turned up the volume. Sure enough, a storm warning was being issued. Winds tapping out around forty miles per hour. Thunder and lightning expected, along with swells of eight to ten feet. Anxiety prickled his skin. “Great.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That storm took a turn and is coming right at us.” He checked their location. “We’re still too far out to slip for the night. We’re going to have to ride it out.”

  “All right.” She gathered up her papers and notebook, holding them against her chest. “What do we need to do?”

  “We’ve got a few hours before it gets bad so I’m going to push Dream a bit harder than normal for the next little while. See if we can gain us some distance. Go below deck and make sure everything’s secured. I might have you take the wheel for a bit so I can double-check the bilge pump and the engine.”

  “Okay. What about Duchess?”

  “Hey, smart bird.” Monty glanced over to their other stowaway.

  “Squawk. Duchess. Smart bird.”

  “How smart? Inside or out during a storm?”

  Duchess blinked those eyes at him, turned her head to look at Sienna, then threw back her beak and shouted, “Hold that walnut!”

  “Um.” Sienna frowned. “I’m not even going to try to interpret that one. I’ll be fast.”

  “Great, thanks.” He popped open a panel on the dash, pulled out the satellite phone and plugged it in. He’d been keeping it charged out of routine, but he wanted to make sure he had all his bases covered. The radio system was old, but serviceable, although it never hurt to have backup. “You better be okay, Duchess. Don’t make me worry about you, too.”

  “Kiss, kiss, kiss.” Duchess spread her feet farther apart to keep her balance.

  Sienna returned. The wind had kicked up again and the waves were starting to swell. She’d thrown on one of the sweatshirts he’d bought her and her deck shoes. She’d also tied her hair up and out of the way. “I’ve got everything as locked down as I can make it. What now?”

  “You’re going to take the chair.” He eased back a little on the speed and got up, then pulled her around him. “You’ve been watching me, right?”

  “Yes.” He heard the hint of nerves in her voice even as she wrapped her hands around the wheel. “This is where I follow the direction you’ve set, right?” She jerked her chin toward the indicator. “Compass is right there. Speed here.”

  “Right. We’re going to veer to the east and try to keep it between forty and forty-five degrees. The swells will come at us from the back, and when they start to hit, we’re going to reduce speed by at least fifty percent.”

  “I do that here.” She touched the lever that affected their speed.

  “Yes. But I’ll be back up by then. You keep us going at the speed we are now. And if you start to feel any big bumps or resistance, slow it down. Speed in a storm only makes things harder and worse.”

  “All right. Got it. I won’t accidentally pass by Butterfly Harbor, will I?” she teased.


  “No. I was hoping to get another fifty in today, but we’re going to lose some distance.”

  “Just checking.” She grinned up at him.

  “Everything’s going to be fine. Back in a sec.”

  A second turned into forty-five minutes, but he wanted to be sure everything he needed to be working was operating effectively. Losing power and drifting could set them miles behind, not to mention the damage that could be done to Dream. If they were lucky, they could ride the waves, rather than plowing through them. Nothing was harder on a boat than heading straight into a storm. He closed the hatch to the lower cabin, then double-checked it to make sure it was secure.

  His hands nearly slipped as he grasped the railings of the ladder on his way back up. “How you doing?”

  “All right, Captain.” She was keeping her eyes locked on the windshield as the wipers whipped furiously against the just starting rain. Duchess began singing, bouncing along to the rhythm of the boat rising and falling. “I’m going to have that song stuck in my brain for the next half a century, but we’re doing okay. Right, Duchess?”

  “Breathe. Inhale. Exhale!”

  “Can’t she just say yes?” Sienna muttered.

  “Want me to take over again?”

  “No. I’m getting used to it and I’m feeling like a productive member of this crew. And you’ll be able to keep your eye out for anything that might go wrong.” She glanced at him. “Nothing’s going to go wrong though, right?”

  “Hopefully not.” He moved to stand behind her, watching as she checked their location, their speed and angled the boat easily into the rising waves. It took a special touch, an instinctive touch, to remain calm and focused while Mother Nature raged around them. He never took anything for granted, but seeing how Sienna kept control didn’t make him feel as anxious as he expected. She was an absolute natural. “So your nana taught you how to sail? Ever been in a storm before?”

  “A few cloudbursts,” Sienna said. “Nothing like this. But she always said the more you fight it, the harder it is to control. A lot like a horse.” Her lips twitched.

  He dropped a hand on her shoulder. “Did you ever get back on one?”

  “I did.” She nodded. “In Hawaii a few years later. There was this valley Nana really wanted to see. It had been all she’d been talking about since before we flew over. Only way to get there, of course, was on horseback. Or so she told me.”

  Monty met Sienna’s eyes in the overhead mirror.

  “Tricked you, did she?” He grinned.

  “Yep. But out of kindness. She knew I would never disappoint her. I spent a good hour with the horse beforehand, working with its trainer, saddled her and talked to her. It did not help that she’d been named Calamity Jane.”

  The dense gray clouds collided, blocked out the sun and broke open, dumping sheets of rain. Sienna pulled back on the throttle, shifted the boat a few degrees east and kept going.

  “I swear that horse understood me,” Sienna went on, probably trying to distract herself, or maybe the chatter helped her to focus. “Either that or they sedated her slightly before I climbed onto her. It was two hours to the valley, another two hours back, and there was barely a hitch in the ride. I did, however, wear a helmet.”

  “What did your father say when she told him?”

  Sienna blinked. “What makes you think she did?”

  “Because I feel like I’m getting to know her from the stories you’ve told me. She’d have relayed what happened. If only to prove to him that you’d moved past your fears and issues.”

  “That and to show him that love, patience and understanding produce better results than intimidation and fear. It made for a very interesting Thanksgiving dinner that year for sure.” She was having to shout now as the wind thundered over them. “Any idea how long this storm’s supposed to last?”

  “Radio chatter estimates a good few hours. Radar is seriously out-of-date on this vessel, so we’re going to be winging it.” He glanced at Duchess. “So to speak. You let me know when you want me to take over, Sienna.”

  “Okay.” She was looking a little more nervous, but more determined, too. He kept an anxious eye on her and Duchess, and was surprisingly more concerned about the bird. The parrot appeared to be having the time of her life, bobbing and moving in time with the waves.

  They continued in silence, the minutes ticking away as night approached.

  “It’s getting harder to see!” Sienna yelled over the storm.

  “Keep your eyes on the instruments. I’ll watch the water.” Looking for debris and other ships or boats was vital to surviving a storm in one piece.

  “She’s harder to steer.” She shook out one arm, then the other.

  “Slow it some more.” He reached around her to the throttle, and when he eased it down, he realized they were almost at a full stop. “Okay, that’s as slow as we go. Let me take over.”

  “All right.” She kept her hands on the wheel and slid her butt out of the chair. As she stood, she lifted her eyes to the window. “Monty!”

  Monty swiveled to see the giant wave crest and slam over the starboard side of the boat. Water exploded into the wheelhouse. Duchess squawked and flapped her wings as the boat rocked violently back and forth. Sienna lost her grip and went flying. Monty let go of the chair and grabbed for her, but she slammed shoulder first into the bulkhead. She hit the deck on all fours, but even as Monty reached for the wheel, he could see she was still moving. “Sienna! You okay?”

  “Yes.” But her voice wasn’t nearly as loud as it had been before.

  “Stay there!” As he finally righted himself, he saw another wall of water heading right for them. He managed to grab and yank the wheel another thirty degrees east before he heard the deafening whumph.

  Then everything went black.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE WORLD DROPPED into slow motion.

  Shoulder throbbing, Sienna dragged her soggy self across the wheelhouse to grab hold of the railing above her head. Monty was lying prone on the deck, arms and legs splayed. He slid over the slick surface as the boat bobbed in the storm.

  Duchess squawked loud enough to wake the dead but not loud enough to bring Monty around. Sienna checked the console. He’d been steering away slightly, not parallel to the storm. The engine continued to rumble and for now the waves seemed to have gotten whatever anger they had out of their system. They were back to the violent eddies she’d been riding earlier.

  Before she seized the wheel again, she braced her feet on either side of Monty’s hips and grabbed his arms. She wedged him into the corner of the pilot cabin. In the dim light, she saw blood pooling in the water.

  She couldn’t do anything about that now. She wouldn’t be any help to Monty if she couldn’t keep the boat moving safely forward. Sienna threw herself into the chair and amped up the throttle just a bit. The engine roared, louder than the storm now, and she quickly resumed the course he’d set. The muscles in her arms strained. Her shoulder felt as if it was on fire. Strands of her hair came loose and stuck to her face. Her clothes were soaked completely through and the rain continued to pour. “Keep going,” she whispered to herself. “Just keep going. You know what you’re doing. Just. Keep. Going.”

  “Squawk! Your shoulders are not earrings.”

  “Not now, Duchess,” Sienna snapped and threw every ounce of energy she had into keeping the boat as level as she could.

  The rain continued to fall. The waves continued to rise and fall. It was like being on an unending roller coaster, and not the good kind that made you scream with laughter.

  “Come on, Dream. You can do this. This storm isn’t going to beat you, is it?” Sienna kept her tone light, encouraging, as she talked to the boat. She glimpsed the corner, saw Monty hadn’t moved. The blood on his head was more visible now, darker around the scalp where he’d taken that hit o
n the railing. Fear clawed through her, trying to get a hold of her. Whether her hands trembled from the strain, from the stress, or from the cold, she couldn’t be sure. All that mattered was getting them to a place where she could finally check on his injuries.

  She considered dropping the bow anchor and killing the engine, but there had to have been a reason Monty hadn’t done that. She had to trust his judgment and push on with what she did know how to do.

  “Forty-five degrees and slow. That’s it.” She controlled the panic—she’d spent a lifetime learning to manage it. She could freak out later, once she had them at least out of the storm. He’d wake up, she told herself. He’d wake up and be fine. A little dizzy, no doubt a bit cranky, but he’d be fine. He had to be.

  She twisted around in her chair when she heard him groan.

  Sienna nearly sobbed in relief. Maybe he’d heard her. Maybe he knew... She stopped herself from letting that train move too far along the track. Now wasn’t the time to think about how she felt about him; how she’d never felt more alive than when she was with him. More alive. More confident. And happy.

  She hadn’t been happy since Nana died.

  “Oh, Nana. This was all your doing, wasn’t it?” Leave it to Winnie Fairchild to have set her on course to meet someone like Monty Bettencourt right when she needed to. Winnie had told her she’d always be watching over Sienna. “How about more of your magic, Nana? I could really use your help with this storm.”

  Struggling against the pull of the wheel, she thought to herself how she was never going to watch another nautical disaster movie. Never, ever, ever!

  Dream’s bow arched up and out of the water and slammed down with a thump. Sienna’s stomach dropped, her insides churning as she willed the storm to stop, hoped for the strength to keep them all in one piece for just a little bit longer. She needed a distraction. And there was only one thing she could think of to accomplish that job.