by Carol Ross
“I’ll have you know, Mr. Old Money Connecticut, that around here we don’t call them dinner parties. It’s just dinner. And we bring things like wine or a dessert.”
“Right,” Gale said, turning serious. “Anything else I should know?”
Eli belted out a laugh. “I have to say, I never thought I would see this day.”
“What day?”
“The day that Gale Kohen was nervous about a girl.”
“Yeah, well, Nina Wynn is not your average girl.”
“At least you’ve already made friends where her dad is concerned. Clearly, Captain Wynn likes you.”
“In spite of what you told me about him, he seems like a good guy. And he seems to like you, too.”
“I know,” Eli said. “Weird, right?” He was still reeling from learning that Brian Wynn wasn’t the monster he’d believed him to be for all these years. Yet, now that he’d had time to think it all through, something still felt off about the scenario.
He had questions. He felt like his dad held the answers, but he’d only spoken to him a couple of times since the conversation with Aubrey.
He’d been working long hours with his fishing business and, each time, the conversations had been brief. His dad had sounded happy and Eli hadn’t wanted to bring the subject up seemingly out of the blue and spoil his dad’s good mood. He was beginning to wonder if he ever wanted to. Why not just let it go? Aubrey seemed fine. The Wynns seemed happier than they’d ever been. He didn’t see how anything could be gained from dredging up this subject with his dad, and yet, something kept telling him to pursue it.
* * *
MARION GREETED HER and Eli as they walked through the door of Nina’s house. Aubrey liked the sound her doggy paws made as her nails tapped lightly against the wooden floor. She barked once and then sat like a perfect lady before them. Aubrey bent and scratched her ears. Eli took a knee to greet her properly and all semblance of ladylike behavior flew out the window as Marion flopped over onto her back to give him access for a belly scratch.
“Hey, guys.” Nina came out of the kitchen, long blond hair twisted on top of her head, wearing an apron covered with snowmen that she somehow managed to make look stylish. “Thanks for coming out. I’m so excited you’re here.”
In keeping with Nina’s impeccable taste and creative bent, the decorations looked like something from a country living magazine.
“This place...” Aubrey gushed, moving into the living room. “Looks spectacular. Your tree is gorgeous.” A lighted Christmas tree stood in one corner and she recognized many of the vintage ornaments that had belonged to their grandmother.
“Thank you. Alex brought it out for me. And then helped me decorate it. I hope you don’t mind that I put your ornaments on there from Grandma, too?”
“Of course not. I’m happy to see them being displayed like this.” Christmas was less than two weeks away. “I’m not sure I’ll get a tree this year, anyway. I’ve been so busy and I go back on shift tomorrow. It’s nice to be able to enjoy yours and Mom’s, though.”
“Aubrey, you have to get a tree. Even if it’s just a small one. Once you start letting traditions slide, you’re this close—” she pinched her thumb and finger together for emphasis “—to skipping midnight mass and eating Rocky Road ice cream and drinking peppermint schnapps while watching The Christmas Story twenty-four-hour marathon.”
Aubrey barked out a laugh. “I’ve only missed midnight mass one time in my life and that was because I was on a rescue. I don’t drink, and I don’t like Rocky Road, so I think we’re safe there.”
“Okay, maybe that was me I was talking about. The dark holidays, I like to call them. But you get the idea. Trust me, no tree is no bueno.” She added a breezy laugh.
Aubrey laughed with her, even though she knew her sister was referring to the years surrounding her divorce.
“Hey!” Gale’s voice sounded from behind them and Aubrey watched the flicker of mortification pass across her sister’s face. It wasn’t like Nina to get embarrassed. She embraced her quirky side and relished her own eccentricities.
Aubrey watched Gale, who only had eyes for Nina. His expression seemed to be a combination of concern and amusement...and admiration?
Hmm, she thought.
“Merry Christmas,” he said. He leaned over so he had one hand on Marion’s head, who was already glued to his side, gazing up with lovestruck eyes. He handed Nina a gift bag. “For the hostess,” he added with a shy grin. He fished something out of the other bag, a plush reindeer, and offered it to Marion. “This is for the hostess’s assistant.” He knelt and gave the toy in his hand a little squeak. Marion barked joyfully and a game of tug-o-war ensued.
Nina seemed uncomfortable with the attention, which she knew was Doug’s fault. Her sister hadn’t even considered dating since her divorce. She’d love to have it out with Doug someday. In the meantime, she couldn’t help but think about how wonderful it would be for Nina to have someone in her life. Someone kind and thoughtful who appreciated her exactly as she was.
Her parents and Camile came through the door, interrupting her thoughts. Alex was only steps behind. They visited briefly before Nina herded them all to the table.
For dinner she served a thick Irish stew and fresh-baked oatmeal bread. The meal was delicious and she was smart to warn everyone to save room for dessert. She brought out a fresh-baked berry pie that looked too beautiful to eat.
With a flourish and a “tah-dah,” she plopped another bowl on the table between her and Eli. “Fruit salad drizzled with a bit of raw honey for those among us steering clear of refined sugar.”
“Thank you. How thoughtful,” Aubrey said.
Camile scooped out ice cream for the pie. Aubrey caught Nina’s shy smile as Gale accepted a giant helping of pie with a double scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
The evening was wildly successful, especially if noise volume was any indication. The Wynn family didn’t do silence. Stories were told, interspersed with plenty of teasing and an abundance laughter. For Aubrey, the event made it easy to forget about what had torn her and Eli apart all those years ago. And, unlike then, he didn’t make any effort to hide his feelings for her, holding her hand and curling an arm around the back of her chair. Oddly enough, no one commented or seemed surprised.
Camile went around the table refilling drinks and when she was finished, their dad stood to make a toast.
“I just want to say that I couldn’t be prouder of my girls. Nina, the stew was delicious, and this pie might be the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. And I believe this farm is the best thing that’s happened to this family in a long time—to you and to your mom and me, for sure. Because even though Camile is at college, she’s not far away. And Aubrey is here for at least two more years, give or take.” He raised his glass. “To family, and to good friends who feel like family. There’s nothing on this earth more important than that.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE MAYDAY CALL came in while Aubrey was in the eighteenth hour of her twenty-four-hour shift. They’d already been called out once on a minor issue, but she hadn’t been deployed. This report relayed that the Angela Sue, a fishing boat twenty-five miles off the coast, was taking on water and the vessel’s bilge pump was not functioning. One of Aubrey’s capabilities as a rescue swimmer was to board stranded boats via a cable hoist with the assistance of her flight crew. She could then assess the boat and the crew and render aid as needed.
She was suited up and heading toward the helo to board when she saw Eli jog up to the pilot who was standing beside the aircraft. Lt. Cdr. Vincent would be piloting this mission. She loved flying with Vinny because in a profession full of cool heads, his was one of the coolest.
“Threading the needle,” as hoisting an RS down to a vessel in need was sometimes called, could be tricky. In the midst of rough seas, bad weather or wayward rigging, it was downright perilous. Luckily, they were facing light winds and relatively calm seas this morning. But sti
ll, as the human needle hanging on the end of that line, she was always glad when he was piloting.
A quick conversation ensued before Eli and Vinny shook hands. Vinny headed back toward the hangar while Eli climbed into the helicopter.
Vinny jogged past her to go inside.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked.
“Lieutenant Pelletier is taking this one. He and Lieutenant Commander Kohen are going to assess.”
A surge of nerves buzzed through her. All personnel had been briefed that this might happen. She’d assumed they’d have a warning before it was executed, that Eli and Gale would schedule the flights beforehand. Springing this on her felt like a pop quiz. She hated pop quizzes. Not to mention that after the Respite, she wasn’t sure how she felt about working with Eli.
“You okay with this?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. Not like I have a choice. I’m going to take a nap. With the way things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if something else gets called in.”
Aubrey climbed on board and buckled herself in. Johnston was the flight mechanic, which meant he’d serve as the hoist operator. Also good news. It was easy to trust him with her life.
Once airborne, Gale informed them that the original Mayday had been canceled, but they were continuing out to observe the scene. The first mate of the vessel had called in the initial report, stating there were three persons including the captain on board. The captain had radioed back, canceling the call, but without confirming that the problem had been alleviated.
With a flight speed of 180 miles an hour, it took them twelve minutes to reach the destination.
“We have a visual on the vessel. Wynn, you want to take a look?”
It was pitch black outside. Aubrey donned the night-vision equipment. “Looks fairly simple. It’s smallish, but that’s a nice clean spot right there on the stern if I need to go.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Johnston chimed in.
They discussed their strategy for a moment before Gale came back on. “The captain is now requesting assistance. Command Center got this one right, huh?”
Eli addressed her, “After you board and assess, let us know the situation. If you can’t get their bilge pump working, we’ll lower the portable down to you.”
Aubrey agreed.
Johnston shifted around to prepare the hoist. As she removed the night-vision glasses she felt Eli’s hand on her arm. He gave it a quick squeeze. She glanced up and he mouthed, “Why do we do this?” She couldn’t help the smile that lit her face, the warmth that filled her chest. As kids they used to ask each other this precursor to the rescue swimmer’s creed before every wild jump off practically every single cliff or crazy plunge into ocean or pool alike.
“So that others may live,” she mouthed in return, hoping this was his way of conveying his confidence in her.
After adjusting her helmet and visor and checking her gear, she got into a seated position in the doorway. She and Johnston made quick work of the deployment and safety procedures and soon she was attached to the hoist and headed down to the boat.
Adrenaline surged through her as she neared the vessel. With Eli piloting and Johnston both aiding him with verbal direction and operating the hoist, she was able to land in the exact location they’d chosen on the stern of the boat. She released the cable, flashed the hand signal that she was all right, and headed for the cabin.
The second Aubrey entered the space she was struck with a bad feeling. A paunchy man with an angry scowl introduced himself as the captain. Two crewmen stood off to one side. Tension coursed through the group, which wasn’t unusual in such high-stress situations. In emergencies, people often disagreed on the best course of action, and she knew a distress call had been made and then canceled.
She quickly introduced herself and asked, “How are you guys? Do you have any injuries?” She looked from one man to another, waiting for each to respond.
A tall, muscular guy with a red face was the only one wearing a life vest. It was too small and stretched tightly across his dirty red coveralls.
“Are there other life jackets on board?”
“Uh, yeah,” the captain said, glancing around nervously.
“Could I get you and your crewman to put those on for me?”
The other crewman was toothpick thin with a neatly trimmed goatee and a bucket hat on his head. He disappeared into the forward cabin below the bow and returned with two life vests. He tossed one to the captain and slipped the other on.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“We’re, uh, leaking,” the captain explained. “We have a lot of water below.”
“Do you know where it’s coming from?”
“No.”
“Boat’s been leaking for a long time,” Coveralls offered.
“Never this bad,” the captain snapped.
Bucket Hat mumbled something unintelligible.
Coveralls looked at him. “What? This never would have happened if we could have taken the Savannah B—”
“Shut up,” the captain said angrily. To Aubrey, he explained, “It’s leaked a little, but the pump always keeps up.”
“Okay, we can talk about all this later.” Aubrey refrained from lecturing them about taking a leaky boat miles out into the ocean in the dark. They all looked plenty nervous as it was, especially Coveralls.
“I’ll take a look.” She moved back toward the stern and studied the situation. Bucket Hat was kind enough to hold a flashlight. Basic solutions—flipping the switch, checking for loose wires, examining the fuse block—didn’t help. From the state of the old and dirty parts she could see, she could make guesses about the cause of the problem; a hull fitting had gradually corroded, the pump intake was clogged with debris or the float that operated the switch was stuck. Of course, she couldn’t know for sure amid all the high, dirty water.
“Are there any other pumps on board?”
“Two portable bilge pumps,” the captain answered.
“I think we should abandon ship,” Coveralls said, his gaze focused on the deck. She imagined he was waiting for water to start gushing up from below. “How many can you fit in the helicopter?”
“That’s not necessary at this point,” Aubrey said. It wasn’t unusual for people to get panicky in these situations, especially inexperienced boaters. But it was part of her job to try and save the boat as well as the people on board.
“But, don’t worry, we have plenty of room if need be.” She’d once been on a rescue where they’d recovered a group of eight hikers who’d become stranded in a snowstorm. Along with the standard crew of four, it had been cozy inside the helo that evening—cozy and joyous.
“Why aren’t they going?” she asked, referring to the pumps.
“We were trying one and couldn’t get it started when you showed up.”
“Where are they?”
“In the cabin.”
Aubrey removed her radio and contacted the helo. “The bilge pump is not working and is inaccessible at this point. I’m going to get a spare pump working. Requesting a boat from Cape Disappointment to escort or tow this vessel to port.”
“Roger, that,” Eli said. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“I’ll keep you advised.” She clicked off.
“To port?” the captain snapped, wild-eyed and disbelieving.
“Yes, sir. This is only going to be a temporary fix. Your bilge pump is irreparable at this point.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Can’t we just use the spare pumps and have this one fixed when we get to our destination?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Aubrey didn’t have time to negotiate. “If I can get a pump working, you should be fine until the boat arrives. The pumps are in here?” She pointed, heading forward. She could hear the captain whispering heatedly to the crew as she entered the cabin.
The place was a mess, stacked with mildew-scented rain gear, coolers, boxes, bags and junk. Immediately in front of h
er on the floor was a pump, discharge hose attached; obviously the one they’d tried to get going. She picked it up and headed back out. “This will take a few minutes. Can one of you find the other while I get this one going?”
The two crewmen entered the cabin where she’d just been. She assumed they were going to retrieve the second pump. She placed the pump, secured the discharge hose over the side of the boat, and quickly connected the wires at the bilge pump fuse block. Turning back to see the pump working, something caught her attention off the bow. Coveralls and Bucket Hat were standing starboard and tossing something overboard.
Concern and irritation shot through her. “Hey,” she called. “What are you doing?”
The captain emerged from the cabin and answered. “We were thinking it would be helpful to dump some of our heavier gear overboard. You know, make the boat lighter.”
A blast of cold fear flooded through her as she looked at the crew, all three of whom were now staring guiltily back at her. The captain wore an insolent “What are you going to do about it?” expression. Coveralls looked ready to jump overboard. Bucket Hat stood off to one side, eyes darting around. She knew then that they had tossed something illegal, but she didn’t know if it was guns or drugs or what. Certainly it was some kind of contraband. Her mind began to spin.
One woman—granted, one tough woman—against three desperate, possibly dangerous men. She knew she needed to proceed carefully here. Showing no fear, she pretended to buy their story.
“That’s not necessary, guys. I know they show that kind of stuff on television, but in this case it won’t help much. These pumps are your answer.”
At least the captain had found the other pump. Working as quickly as possible, she set it up, wired it for power, and soon had it running. She waited a few minutes, checked the water level, and then radioed the helo.
“Two pumps are working and gaining ground. There’s plenty of capacity. All should be well until help arrives, as long as the engine is running.”
A quick conversation ensued with the captain, making sure he fully comprehended the situation. He said he understood and then informed her his crew was going to stay with the boat.