by Annie Rains
Jonathan’s expression was deadpan. “I didn’t get her cell phone number. Just her name.”
Gabe growled low in his throat. This wasn’t the first time Jonathan had neglected the basics of the job. “Okay. Well, what’s her name?” Maybe her contact information was already in the system.
Jonathan’s brows furrowed. “It was a real sweet name. Let’s see.” He scratched his chin.
“You didn’t make her fill out the waiver?” Gabe asked, biting his words. “You just put a woman on a boat without getting any of her contact information?”
“Dude. I’m sorry. Am I fired?”
“NOOOOO! Don’t fire Mr. Jonathan!” Kimberly held out both arms and jumped in front of Jonathan as if she were protecting him from a bullet.
Gabe rubbed his forehead. He’d never fired anyone in his life, but thoughts of being sued for every penny he had flashed in the forefront of his mind. This guy was a family friend, but he was also a liability. “No, you’re not fired.” Yet. “But next time, write the info down and have them fill out the waiver. I could call the woman right now if I had her number. I could tell her to head back in. Who knows how far out she got. Maybe the storm hasn’t even reached her yet.”
“Yeah. Okay, boss.” Jonathan gave a thumbs-up and returned to playing with Kimberly.
Gabe turned back to the window. The skies seemed to have grown darker in a matter of seconds, reducing visibility. A front was supposed to be moving in later tonight, but it looked like it had arrived early to the party. In his work with the Coast Guard, Gabe had done some search and rescues following afternoons that started out exactly like this one. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be the case this afternoon.
The front entrance opened, and Lorelai walked in. She closed her umbrella and placed it against the wall. Despite the umbrella, she was soaking wet.
“Mommy!” Kimberly dashed across the room.
“Hey, sis. You’re earlier than usual. Did you get off early because of the storm?”
Lorelai’s brows knit together. “I’m worried about Jillian.”
He stepped closer. He knew Lorelai’s friend Jillian had been staying over for the last couple of days. She was going through a divorce and had taken time off from her job. Lorelai had also mentioned she’d been acting out of sorts lately. “She okay?” he asked.
His sister shrugged. “You tell me. Is she back yet?”
It was Gabe’s turn to frown. “Back from where?”
“Oh yeah.” Jonathan held up a finger. “Jillian. That was the woman’s name.”
Gabe glanced over his shoulder at his new employee. “Jillian Maready is the one on the water right now? You let a woman on the edge of a nervous breakdown take out one of my sailboats by herself?”
Jonathan’s face went sheet white. Gabe guessed he was going to ask if he was fired again. “She didn’t look crazy,” Jonathan said. “She looked pretty nice. And she said she had experience.”
“Maybe when she was fifteen,” Gabe ground out, turning back to Lorelai. “You knew Jillian was going to take a boat out?”
“Yeah. She texted me about it earlier. What’s wrong with that? She does have experience. But now it’s storming, and I’m worried about her. She's not answering her cell phone.”
“How long has she been out there?” Gabe asked Jonathan.
“Maybe an hour. She got here a little earlier than she was scheduled for. So maybe an hour and a half.”
Gabe cursed. Then he apologized to Lorelai. He hated cursing in front of Kimberly. Crossing the room, he grabbed his raincoat and pulled it back on. “I’ll go get her,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
The water was rocking the boat so forcefully that Jillian had to white-knuckle the side. She had experience with sailing, but it had been a long time. When the water had been smooth, she’d thought she was actually doing pretty well, even though she had no sense of direction. That had surprised her too. She’d navigated these waters as a teenager without any problem. Now she had no clue where she was.
Turning and looking in all directions, she couldn’t see anything or remember which way led back to the rec center. Thunder rumbled overhead, and rain pelted her bare skin. She should’ve listened to the old woman at the bookstore. If she had, she’d be warm and dry and reading one of the books she’d purchased right now instead of drenched and shivering.
“Okay, Jillian. Just think.” All she needed to do was turn the boat around and retrace her path. Except the wind was so strong right now that the sails were actually working against her, collecting its force and pushing her forward at a speed much faster than she was comfortable with. The visibility out here was poor. For all she knew, she could be sailing at record speeds right toward a rocky shore.
She reached for her cell phone for the third time already and checked for a signal. None. Another wave hit her tiny boat, and she screamed as she nearly fell over the side. There had been a Blushing Bay resident last summer, she remembered, who had fallen overboard and was never found out here on these waters. Chris Watson. He’d been an experienced fisherman who worked with one of the Sawyer brothers at the Sawyer Seafood Company. Jillian was frustrated with her life right now, but she still wanted to keep it.
As the storm calmed down for just a moment, she pulled the sails down so she would at least stop advancing forward at such a quick pace. Then she searched the compartments for a life vest. Finding one, she put it on quickly and moved to the center of the boat to wait out the storm. If she could survive the next hour, she’d probably be fine.
Hopefully.
She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, looking for the calm place her therapist back home had always coached her to find. Ironically, Blushing Bay had been her calm place in the therapist’s office.
She wasn’t sure how long she held on, breathing and floating up prayers, when she heard a horn honking at her. Blinking through the rain, Jillian opened her eyes and struggled to see lights. The sky was black as night now, even though it couldn’t have been any later than six or seven p.m.
The lights were coming toward her. She was being rescued! In an hour’s time, she’d be back at Lorelai’s house and maybe having a tea party with Kimberly. Yes. That sounded wonderful. A steaming cup of hot tea and a chatty seven-year-old.
“Over here!” she screamed. The motor boat was moving slow due to the choppy waters, but definitely heading in her direction. “Over here!” She stood and waved her arms in the air excitedly. She wasn’t going to die today and that was maybe the best news of her life.
Then lightning ripped open the dark sky, and a wave capsized her tiny sailboat, tossing her into the ice-cold water below.
Shit.
Gabe reached for a life preserver and ran to the stern of his boat to toss it to Jillian. That meant abandoning his steering wheel, which left his own boat to rock wildly in the currents. He should’ve taken one of his cousins with him. Jack, Noah, or Sam would’ve been available. He’d been in a hurry to get to Jillian, though. He’d underestimated the size of the storm from shore. He’d moved through one storm cell already to get here, and it appeared they were in the direct line of several more.
Turning on his flashlight, he shined it over the water where Jillian had fallen in. He didn’t see her, which struck terror inside him. “Jillian!” he called, hoping like hell she could swim. Had she been wearing a life vest? Jonathan was new at the rec center and might not have offered her one. “Jillian!”
Her pale skin popped up on the surface of the water, and one arm flailed wildly at him.
Gabe exhaled. “Jillian!” he called out to her. “Grab the life preserver!”
She reached for it and missed. Then she dunked under a wave and popped back up a few seconds later. Gabe cursed under his breath. She reached out again and grabbed hold of the floatation device this time. Pulling the rope it was attached to, he reeled her toward his boat. He wasn’t one to get seasick, but with these choppy currents, even he was feeling slightly nauseated at the moment. And
unfortunately, the storm didn’t seem to have any end in sight.
When Jillian reached the side of his boat, he let go of the rope in order to grab her by the arms and pull her over the side. In one quick yank, he had her on the floor of the boat. The scant sundress she was wearing underneath her vest clung to her body like a second skin. He didn’t see any sign of injury, which was a positive. At least no outward injuries. But she’d been out here in the soaking rain for over an hour. She was wet and shivering uncontrollably. Even though it was summer, rainwater was freezing. Hypothermia would start setting in if he didn’t get her warm soon.
“You okay?” he asked, crouching down next to her, yelling to be heard above the roar of the ocean and the storm.
Her gaze flitted up to meet his. “Yeah,” she said through chattering teeth. “I think so. I’ll be a lot better when you get me back to the mainland.”
Gabe frowned. That was a lot easier said than done. He had come this far with the wind at his back and a lot of close calls. Protocol said to stay put and wait it out. But there was no shelter on his boat, and he needed to get Jillian warm sooner than later.
He wrapped his arm around her to keep her warm. “We can’t go back to the mainland just yet. It’s too far away.” And we might not make it.
She turned to look at him with wide eyes.
“We can’t stay here either. Bear Island is about a quarter mile up. We should try to take shelter there after the next storm cell passes and before the next one begins. It’s the safest plan.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
Returning to the steering wheel, Gabe put the boat back in gear, moving slow and steady. He was careful to hit each wave just right so that neither of them went flying forward. It took the good part of ten minutes to make it to the island. He’d driven the boat here many times before to go fishing on his own. It was a good spot and usually landed him a cooler full of flounder and red drum. He drove the boat almost to the sandy shore and threw the anchor in. After cutting off the motor, he directed his attention to Jillian, who had her knees curled up to her chest.
“I have a tent on the boat. It’s part of my just-in-case kit. I also have matches, some nonperishable food, and a jug of water. That’ll last us until tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Now she looked up.
Gabe reached for her hand. “It’s dark, and it’s already pretty late. It will be safest to wait until sunrise.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“’Fraid not, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her to stand.
“What about a search party?” she called through the rain.
He hadn’t radioed in because this wasn’t an emergency situation yet. And asking crews to come out right now would be putting their lives in unnecessary risk. He was trained to survive in conditions like this. Jonathan and Lorelei knew where they were. As long as he and Jillian were smart, they’d be fine. “I am the search party,” he said. “Now let’s get moving.”
3
Jillian stepped out of the boat and swayed right. Then left. She was cold and tired, and couldn’t seem to get her bearings without the light of the sun or moon.
“I got you,” Gabe said. His warm hand curled around hers, and she climbed to the edge of the boat, fully expecting to have to wade through the knee-deep water up to the shore. Instead, Gabe put one arm under her bottom and lifted her off her feet, pulling her body against him. “You don’t need to get any wetter than you already are,” he said, his mouth next to her ear.
It was dark, and if she tried hard enough, she could pretend he was someone other than the guy she’d had a massive and painful crush on when she was younger. It felt nice to be in his arms, and he was really warm. She allowed herself to rest her head on his shoulder as he half jogged through the shallow water, holding her against him.
When they reached land, he put her down but didn’t pull his hands off her immediately. “You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, hugging her arms around herself. “I think so.”
“Good.”
She watched him head up a slight hill toward some dunes and brush, which was all the island seemed to be made of. There were no trees that she could see. Nothing to shield them from the howling wind and driving rain.
She held a hand over her eyes, futilely trying to see. She was pretty sure she’d lost one of her contact lenses when she’d gone overboard. Maybe both. Everything was blurry as she watched Gabe pull a tent out of his bag and start building it in the brush.
He moved quickly, and within a matter of minutes, he was ushering her inside. “Better?” he asked when they were seated next to each other. It was hard to hear him over the loud tapping of the rain on the nylon covering right above their heads.
“Y-yes. Except I’m drenched and c-c-cold.” She shivered again. “Are you sure we need to stay out here all night?” She’d always despised camping. Her father used to take her and her brother on a trip once per summer. Except they’d never camped in bad weather, and they’d always had their basic needs covered.
Gabe was a blurry image beside her. Yep, she’d definitely lost one of her contact lenses. And her head was throbbing, she suddenly realized. Putting a hand to her left temple, she felt the large lump that was creeping up.
Gabe’s hand followed hers. “That looks bad. You must have hit your head when you went overboard out there.”
Electricity sizzled from his touch.
She sucked in a breath and pulled back just as much from the pain as from the fact that this was Gabe Sawyer. She didn’t want him to touch her. Or she did, always had, and she hated that. “I’m fine.”
“Little Miss Tough Girl,” he said quietly.
“You know I always hated when you called me that. You never thought I was tough. You were just making fun of me when you said that.”
“Oh, you were tough, all right. I worried you’d beat me with one of those books you were always lugging around if I said the wrong thing.”
This made her laugh. Her laughter froze in her chest when he started to peel off his wet T-shirt. “What are you doing?” She was half-blind at the moment, but she could see well enough to know he was one hundred percent tanned muscle.
“I’m wet. I’ll be warmer without the soggy clothes.” His gaze lowered to her drenched sundress.
“No. No, I’m fine,” she said again, even as she started trembling uncontrollably. Every time a fierce wind blew outside, a little bit of it rushed in through the tent’s flap and chilled her more.
“I can’t keep you warm if you’re in that, and it’s only going to get colder tonight.”
“Keep me warm? How do you expect…?” Her mouth fell open as she pieced together the scenario in her mind.
“I’ve seen guys get really sick in this kind of weather, even in a short amount of time. Contrary to popular belief, hypothermia is just as likely in the summer as the winter.”
Her mind was racing, looking for another option.
“Come on, Jillian. It’s not like I haven’t seen you half-naked before.”
She pulled back and gasped. “I was wearing a bikini that night!” she snapped, hating to relive the memory. Her adolescent hormones had gotten the best of her the night she’d thrown herself at Gabe, and she’d thought he was crushing on her as hard as she was him.
Gabe chuckled and held up his hands. “It’s my job to keep you safe right now. I promise, I won’t look.”
“Fine.” Seeing no other option, she peeled off her dress but left her bra and panties on, which was the equivalent of a mini bikini—just like she’d worn when she’d slipped into his bedroom at fifteen years old. Then she hurriedly sat down in the dark tent and folded her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself as much as possible. The tent was made for one person only, so she and Gabe were pretty much shoulder to shoulder. Bare shoulder to bare shoulder.
She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. Then repeated.
“You’re not going to start
hyperventilating, are you? I don’t have paper bags in my emergency kit.”
Despite her nerves, she laughed softly. “No. My therapist told me taking deep breaths helps during times of stress.” She felt his eyes on her. “I’m not crazy, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m going through a divorce. Or, actually, I’ve gone through a divorce. It’s official now. I’ve been seeing a therapist over the past year to deal with some of the repercussions of a bad marriage.”
“Sorry about that,” he said quietly.
“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who apparently has horrible taste in men. I’m not sure a therapist can fix that, though.”
“Therapy didn’t help?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I mean, I enjoyed talking about what went wrong, which was pretty much everything, but…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
He knocked his elbow against hers. “What were you hoping to accomplish in therapy?”
She hugged her arms around her knees. “Oh, I don’t know. I was hoping to feel a little better about love and marriage and all that jazz.” Glancing over, she asked, “Have you ever been close?”
“To marrying? No.” He shook his head quickly. “Not because I’m not interested in it. I am. One day. With the right person.”
She pulled her knees in tighter. “Having the right person is key.”
“Marriage is forever. You really need it to be with someone you love.”
“Or at least like.”
He looked over. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what did go wrong?”
She shook her head. “Too many things to list. We had nothing in common, which made things interesting at first. Except, after a while, he did his thing and I did mine, and neither of us cared to venture into the other’s world.”
“Sounds pretty lonely.”
“You have no idea.” She swallowed as she remembered the feeling of being utterly alone. Of eating dinner with someone and not saying a word. Her ex-husband, Frank, always had his cell phone out, reading something of interest and making her feel like she was of least importance in his life. “So, if we have the entire night ahead of us, let’s find a happier topic, shall we?”