She nodded towards the kitchen. "Okay, show's over. Let's eat breakfast."
Once she settled with a cup of coffee, she looked through cabinets and the refrigerator, peering into the bright, nearly empty cavern. "I think we have the makings for omelets," she said, pulling out a plastic bin of cheese and smelling it.
She put it on the counter behind her and extracted a carton of eggs and a container of butter. In the cabinets, she found a can of ham and a small container of sliced mushrooms. "Ta-da!"
"Tell you what, Merlin. You make breakfast; I'll go take a quick shower."
"Fine, but eggs cook quickly. You better be out here in five minutes or I'm starting without you." Her stomach growled.
True to his word, he was back and at the counter before the omelets finished cooking. Sabrina placed the morning paper next to his plate, minus the comics. They ate in companionable silence, each reading the newspaper. It felt right.
Behind the paper, Jay spoke. "I'm going to see Faye this morning."
Sabrina felt her stomach knot. "Do you want me to go with you?"
"No!"
She felt relief at his abrupt refusal. "Okay then, I'll just stay here. Maybe do a little cleaning. Guess I'll make a grocery list. I need to call Rose anyway and let her know we're in."
A noise beneath the floor startled her. "What's that?"
"It's Brett. Today's a workday, sweetheart."
Sabrina smiled. "Of course."
Jay dropped the paper and stood. "Thanks. That was excellent." He picked up his truck keys and wallet, sliding them into his pocket. He leaned over the counter and kissed her lightly. "I'll be back soon. Then we'll go to the store. Going to need more than groceries."
Whistling, he walked out the door. Sabrina watched from the window as he trundled down the stairs. He paused at the yawning opening of the boatyard shop to talk to Brett. He gestured to the apartment and Brett looked up. Sabrina waved. Then the heavy-set man playfully punched Jay in the arm. He turned back to the window, his hands clasped to his heart. She heard his faint call. "It should have been me! I'm the one who saw you first."
Jay slid his hands in his back pockets, watching Brett kiss his fingers to the lovely woman in the window. "Alright, stuff it or I'll tell Shawna. Better yet, I'll tell Maude," he said. Then he turned and looked into the shop. The Zephyrus sat upright, supported by two-by-fours. The boat, once a source of torment, was a pitiful shell. All the years he agonized over it until Sabrina's soft touch lifted the curse. It was easy to let the anger go. With his eyes steady on the fiberglass hull, he said, "Brett, take off. You've been carrying the shop alone and you deserve some time."
"Aw, I don't mind," Brett said.
Jay glanced over his shoulder. "Ayuh, but I do."
Brett nodded. "Oki doki, you want me to go fishing again, right?"
"Unless you want to go home."
Brett walked into the shop and turned off the fans and lights. "I think I will, brother. You've inspired me."
* * *
That was hours ago and still Jay hadn't returned. Sabrina killed time taking a shower, cleaning the apartment and making lists. She couldn't wait any longer. Something had to be wrong. She started to pull on her shoes when she heard a noise downstairs. It'd been quiet for hours; she assumed that Brett had gone out on an appointment. She heard more bangs and a crash. He must be back.
She rushed to the window, looked outside but did not see the truck. She dashed to the bedroom, stood on the bed and peeked out the high window. No trucks out front either. Then she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She hurried into the living room and swung open the door.
"Thank goodness, you're back. I've been so worried …" her voice trailed off. Stepping through the opening was a thin, wizened woman. She had both shaking hands wrapped around a gun. "You whore," she spat.
Startled, Sabrina backed up raising her palms in supplication. "Faye?"
"You call me Mrs. West, you piece of trash!" She advanced, pushing the door closed with her bony hip. She leaned back against the door and reached one hand behind her to lock it.
Sabrina lowered her hands and took a step forward. "Mrs. West, what are you doing?" she said, her eyes pinned on the gun.
Faye cradled the hand holding the gun and raised it. "Don't come any closer." She nodded towards the sofa. "Sit down."
When Sabrina didn't move, Faye pointed the gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. A bullet drove into the tile and white flakes fell like snow. "Now!" she screeched.
Half a mile down the road, Jay lifted his head. He looked at the bartender. "Did you hear that?"
The man shrugged. "Nah, what was it?"
Jay swiveled on the stool. "Sounded like gun fire. Who could be shooting a gun in town?" He slid off the seat and headed for the tavern door. He opened it and looked cautiously outside. Then he lifted his head and smelled it. Fire! Not just fire, but burning resin. He called over his shoulder. "Call the Jakes! The boatyard's on fire!" Then he raced out into the sunlight.
Sabrina covered her nose at the stench. "What is that smell?"
Faye grinned wickedly. "That's your death you smell, whore. This time you're not getting away."
Sabrina was confused. "What are you talking about?" Then she gagged on the fumes. Smoke drifted in the cracks and ductwork. "Oh my lord! The shop's on fire! We have to get out of here."
She stood and stepped towards Faye, grabbing the old woman's tiny arm. "We've got to leave now."
Faye snatched her arm back and screeched. "Not this time, bitch. There's no one here to drag you out." Then she swung her hand, hitting Sabrina on the side of the face with the gun. Sabrina sank to her knees, covering her head as the woman battered her again and again.
"Please stop!" she cried. "You don't know what you're doing." If there had been an opportunity to stop the woman's assault, she missed it. Never considering the woman would hit her or that she knew about the fire, Sabrina's only concern was to pull her from danger.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," Faye growled. "You're not going to get him. He belongs to me."
Footsteps pounded up the steps outside and frantic hands turned the doorknob. When it wouldn't open, Jay began thundering on the wood. "Sabrina, get out of there! The shop's on fire!"
The old woman backed up and once again raised the gun. Sabrina looked up, blood streaming down her face and mixing with tears.
"Why have you done this?" she cried.
Jay turned the knob again. He heard voices. Women's voices. Pounding on the door again he begged, "Sabrina, for God's sake, open the door!"
He backed up and slammed into the door. It held, bruising his shoulder. Then he kicked at the knob. He kicked several more times, the wood at the latch starting to splinter.
Two more kicks and the door burst open. Horrified, he saw Faye West standing over Sabrina, a gun pointed at her head.
"You thought I would let you get away, but you were wrong!"
"Grandma, put the gun down." He choked on the words. "We need to get out of here. The place is on fire."
Faye lifted her sharp, pointed chin. "I know. I started it. Just like before. When your granddaddy ran off with that whore. I knew about it. I knew all along. He didn't fool me. I knew he was running around behind my back. I just didn't know who with." She looked down at Sabrina's dark hair. "But I found out and then I told Don all about it. I was there that night. I watched them fight over her. He only cared about that whore, not his own wife. Or his daughter. It was all about her. But I was there. I knocked over the paint can. I started the fire then. I hit that bitch with all my might." Faye raised the gun to strike Sabrina again.
Jay stepped into the room. "No!"
Faye looked into his face, her eyes blazing. "But Don had to save her and in the end, they both died."
Jay moved closer to Faye. "Look at me, Grandma. Put the gun down. We have to get out of here." He heard sirens as the fire truck arrived. He gestured towards Sabrina, frozen on her knees as smoke wound up the st
airs and filled the room. "She's not to blame for what Rose did. You can't punish her. Give me the gun."
Faye looked at Sabrina, her eyes narrow slits. "All that money isn't going to save you now."
She pointed the gun in Sabrina's face and her finger squeezed the trigger. The bullet drove into the ceiling as Sabrina's fisted hands flew upward, knocking the gun away. She rose like an avenging angel and a deep war cry sounded in her throat.
Before she could launch herself onto Faye, strong arms wrapped around her waist and carried her to the door. Jay shielded Sabrina against his body as he hurtled down the burning stairs. He raced into the parking lot and a police car jerked to a stop, barely missing him. He saw an ambulance and motioned it.
A uniformed tech jumped out with a medic bag in one hand. Jay thrust Sabrina into the young man's arms. "Take care of her. I have to get my grandmother out of there!"
Then he turned back towards the shop, but before he could reach them, the stairs collapsed. Faye stepped into the second floor opening and surveyed the boatyard. Strangely calm, she watched the flashing red and blue lights, the fire fighters dousing flames in the shop and Sabrina collapsing to the grass as a medic gently touching her face. And she saw Jay, hands fisted at this side, tears of frustration running down his face. She still held the gun, oblivious to the flames licking the walls around her. She lifted it, pointing it towards Sabrina. She could still do it.
"Grandma, no!" Jay looked helplessly around. "Somebody help! I need a ladder."
Fire fighters stepped back from the inferno in the boat shop and looked to the top of the building. One climbed up the fire truck and into the cherry picker. He flipped controls and the mechanical arm lifted the bucket to the building, hovering at the burning doorway.
Faye shook her head slowly and backed into the flames. Seconds later, the top floor collapsed into the inferno.
Faye was gone.
Chapter Ten
Sabrina wished she could wait until the swelling receded, until the stitches could be removed, but she had to return to Rose. She didn't want to horrify her, but she didn't have a choice.
Her grandmother's broken sobs hurt worse than the bruises. She clasped the woman's frail hands and shushed her.
"I'm fine, Grandmother. It's over," she said, laying her head on the bed. "She was insane."
"To think, all those years ago, she was there. That she started the fire." Rose's words were barely audible over the ambient noise of the hospital. "And that she hurt you, tried to kill you. My darling, precious girl." She pulled a hand free from Sabrina's and cupped it on her head.
Then she raised her other hand and reached imploringly. Jay stepped to the bedside and held it. "Thank you. Thank you for saving her," she whispered, tears spilling again from her blue eyes. She tugged his hand down to the bed and laid them atop Sabrina's. "It's time everyone stopped paying for my mistakes. You need to start your lives free from all misery I've caused."
Sabrina shook her head. "Grandmother, Faye had a choice. She didn't have to start the fire or attack you. She knew you were there to break up with Derek. But she wanted revenge and it destroyed her."
Sabrina glanced up at Jay. "There's a proverb that says, 'Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.' Faye dug one for us all."
She bowed her head. "Even the Zephyrus is gone."
"Not exactly," Jay said. He pulled a small bronze plate from his back pocket and read aloud, "Zephyrus 32, No. 1, Zephyrus Yachts, Warren, Rhode Island."
He gently tugged on her hand until she stood with him. "Let me explain something about boats. They're never gone. Little by little, if she's around long enough, everything gets replaced. Except one thing," he added, placing the builder's plate in her hand. "Let's replace what's missing. I need a boatyard and West Wind is a great name for a new business."
"Let's build our own Zephyrus," Sabrina said, wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning into his embrace.
The End
Praise for Distracted
By Madeline Sloane
A Great Beach Read!
This is a charming story that had all my favorite things in it: Books, Boats and hunky men (not necessarily in that order).
--Jen C. (Smashwords Edition)
Thoroughly Enjoyable
Madeline Sloane brings romance to the table with her first book! "Distracted" is cleverly written; the dialogue is well delivered, easily readable and certainly enjoyable.
-- Lucinda J. Knier (Kindle Edition)
A Cute Romance
This was a cute romance. Erin is supposed to help Stephen hurry up and get his book done, which turns out to be an impossible task. Stephen's tendency to put things off and enjoy life is cute and funny, but in real life, this guy would annoy me to no end. (And I'm laughing as I write that.)
-- Ruth Ann Nordin "Historical Romance Author" (Kindle Edition)
A Refreshing Read
What a refreshing read, unlike so many romance novels of the past, which made the female lead out to be some kind of second-class citizen who could never stand up for themselves. (Many of these books I'd throw against the wall in disgust.)
-- Susan Ward (Kindle Edition)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Madeline Sloane is a writer with more than 25 years experience in communications. With ten published history books under her belt, she is new to the world of romantic fiction but finding it just as fun to research. In addition to writing, she is a college instructor whose interests include traveling, history and boating. Rounding out her list of Top Five interests are reading and cooking. On the web at http://www.MadelineSloane.com
ABOUT THE SERIES: WOMEN OF EATON
The first novel in the "Women of Eaton" romance series, "Distracted" introduces readers to Eaton, a fictional, idyllic town tucked away in the mountains of Pennsylvania. Several of the characters in "Distracted" are featured in other, soon-to-be released books such as "East of Eaton," "West Wind" and "Deadline." Look for Erin and Spence to return in a few of these new stories that explore and celebrate romance.
CONNECT WITH MADELINE SLOANE ONLINE
Madeline's website: http://www.madelinesloane.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/madelinesloane
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/distracted.by.madeline.sloane
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/MadelineSloane
DISTRACTED
By Madeline Sloane
Excerpt
Copyright 2011 Madeline Sloane
Smashwords Edition
Chapter One
Erin fidgeted in the pin-striped chair. The "two-minute" wait promised by the receptionist stretched into ten.
She glanced again at the magazines spread on the side table. The titles were unfamiliar. Some scholarly, some technical, none very interesting. She pushed them aside until she found a new copy of "Them" magazine, a slick tabloid that specialized in reporting the latest scandals and love interests of the stars.
The cover featured its typical fare of movie stars and beautiful people. In one photograph, a man and woman ducked their heads to avoid the paparazzi. He wore sunglasses, an unbuttoned island-print shirt, a pair of baggy, khaki shorts and sandals. Hmmm, nice abs, she thought.
The woman looked familiar. An actress, maybe? She was wearing a pink bikini top and a black sarong knotted at her slim, tanned hip. They were holding hands and walking down a pier in a tropical locale. Erin glanced out the large window at Washington's overcast skyline and shivered. Smog and low clouds nearly obscured the Capitol dome.
She flipped through the magazine; the first ten pages or so were filled with advertisements. Then she came to the cover feature: The island couple. There were several photographs of the hunk with various beautiful women. In one, he was standing at the wheel of speed boat, shirtless, sunglasses on again, his sun-streaked wavy hair whipping in the wind. In another, he was strumming a guitar at a beach bonfire.
"Like what you see?"
Erin dropped t
he magazine and stood up.
"Patricia. How are you?"
"Fine. Sit down, Erin."
Patricia McDowell slid behind her massive desk. An imperious veteran of the publishing trenches for more than thirty years, Patricia's company churned out quality non-fiction that often made university professors' reading lists but always made the New York Times bestselling list. Her diamond-hard veneer and keen business sense aside, she was the patron saint of artists, musicians, and historians who needed help writing books.
Patricia had tapped Erin after the young woman interned at McDowell Publishing while earning a master's degree. As an editorial assistant, Erin helped senior staff move manuscripts through the system, from the authors to the production department.
She became efficient, but it was her combination of charm and persistence that Patricia valued most. She discovered that Erin could succeed, often through guile and wile, when experienced editors failed.
Her easy-going personality put many shy and introverted scholars at ease as she helped them complete their books on time.
Patricia couldn't care less if the girl recognized a split infinitive or a dangling participle. She had plenty of grammarians on staff. She wanted results and Erin delivered.
"Nice-looking man, isn't he?" Patricia nodded towards the tabloid Erin had tossed on the stack.
"George Clooney? He's still yummy."
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