Tattered Innocence

by Ann Lee Miller

  He’d almost kissed her the other night. But Rachel wasn’t the kind of girl you kissed just because you wanted to—even if Bret had. She was all about babies and forever. Things a guy needed to think long and hard about. Thank God she didn’t own a bikini.

  Rachel hesitated outside the aft cabin. She’d never returned once she left for the weekend, but she’d forgotten her textbook with thirty pages left to read by eight a.m. tomorrow. Her knuckles rapped on the hatch.

  “Yo.” Jake slid the hatch open. His brows lifted. “Since when do you knock?”

  “For all I know you could be running around in your boxers all weekend. I forgot something.”

  Jake laughed. “Yeah, your grocery list. I found it.”

  Panic flushed through her. She’d been too busy reading Early Childhood Development to take her usual care with the list. Her shorthand, honed into her own language over the years, complete with backward and forward letters, looked like a preschooler’s.

  He stepped out of the cabin and pulled the list out of his back pocket. “At least, I think it’s your grocery list. Hurry much?”

  She snatched the paper from his hand and shoved it into her purse. “Thanks.” She climbed into the cabin.

  “I couldn’t even make out anything after grocery list.”

  She grabbed the textbook from her bin. “Secret code. Next week’s menu is a surprise.” She pasted on a smile and exited the cabin, placing her body between Jake and the book. “See you Monday.”

  Jake caught her hand.

  Her eyes flew to his.

  His gaze slid away, but the grip of his calloused hand didn’t loosen.

  Her pulse shifted into overdrive. Was this solid evidence she wasn’t the only one caught in this attraction, or was there a meteor headed her way, and he was about to yank her to safety?

  Chapter 15

  Jake looked down at his hand clutching Rachel’s. The afternoon sun momentarily paraded white spots in front of his eyes. He scrambled for a plausible reason for having stopped her from leaving—other than he didn’t want her to go.

  Rachel stood on the deck beside the aft cabin, her brow wrinkled, waiting for his explanation.

  His gaze fell on the five-pound book resting against her hip, and he released her hand. “What’s the book?”

  She held up what looked like a textbook for him to read the title. “Just something I’m interested in.”

  Early Childhood Development. He wondered, not for the first time, why someone as intelligent and motivated to learn as Rachel never went to college.

  She crossed her arms and pressed the book against her chest. “Gotta get going. See ya.” She hustled up the finger pier and dock as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  Except for the other night on deck, Rachel seemed guarded lately, withdrawn. Right now, he’d settle for the way things had been before Bret came aboard.

  A week into September, Jake sat on the aft cabin splicing a rope. Rachel’s conversation on the stern drifted to him while he kept an eye on the guest manning the helm. He glanced at Rachel, thirteen-year-old Will from Canada, and Philadelphian Maddy, whose oversized straw hat shaded her Pillsbury-dough-girl face. Their fishing lines trailed through the flat water behind the Queen.

  Rachel peered under the woman’s hat. “Maddy, why did you take a cruise? Your skin burns. You’ve never sailed.”

  “Got ditched by a fifth grade teacher for the hottie, gifted teacher who could discuss long division.” Maddy’s voice quivered, her pain elbowing Jake in the ribs. “I gathered my personal days and what was left of my dignity and flew south.”

  How did Rachel get people to dump stuff like this?

  Will’s summer-browned feet stilled from swinging back and forth over the transom. “You don’t know long division?”

  “I know long division. Kindergarten teachers don’t talk about it much.” Maddy tugged on her line. “The guy could have been one of three generations in my family who never had to work a day in their lives. I work because I want to.”

  Will flashed an impish smile. “Wanna go out?”

  Maddy swiped Will’s Toronto Blue Jay’s hat off his shaggy head and whacked him with it.

  Will snatched his hat back and wandered, still chuckling at his joke, toward the bow with his line.

  “What am I supposed to do with all this anger?” Maddy said to no one in particular.

  Rachel swiveled her face toward Jake.

  What? I don’t have an answer for Maddy.

  “Jake went through a break-up recently.” Rachel’s eyes pled with him. She expected him to spill to a perfect stranger.

  No way. He flattened his lips into a thin line.

  Maddy turned toward him. “Tell me, O Wise Captain.”

  Jake set down the rope and shot Rachel a glare.

  Maddy waited for his answer.

  He sighed. Rachel would hear about this.

  “When I got dumped, I kicked things, pounded nails.”

  “That helped?”

  Probably not. That night at the bonfire had been a turning point. “Really, God helped.”

  “You were suicidal?”

  Jake glanced at Rachel. Help me out here.

  She stared at him, mouth slightly open as though he’d surprised her.

  “N—not suicidal.” Jake stared at the Smyrna Queen’s neat wake beyond Maddy. “I told God I wanted her back, how I didn’t appreciate His letting this happen to me.”

  Rachel jutted her chin toward him, a tiny movement, yet he heard her encouragement as though she’d spoken.

  Maddy squinted up at him. “You said that to God?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, after you did the ‘me and my invisible friend’ thing with God, you were over the tramp?”

  Jake’s jaw tightened. “She isn’t a tramp.”

  “Sorry.”

  Jake peered under the brim of Maddy’s hat at her dark eyes and alabaster skin. “Talking to God was new. Rachel kind of got me started.” Quiz Rachel, why don’t you.

  Maddy wound fishing line around a spool.

  Far in the distance, tiny trees poked from the shoreline.

  “So, how about that sailing lesson you promised me?” Maddy popped up and headed for the cockpit.

  Rachel shrugged at him. She stuck her hook into the wound line in her hand.

  His desire to snap at her evaporated. He grabbed the coil of rope from the top of the hatch and slid off the cabin.

  He stretched a hand toward Rachel where she sat on the gunwale.

  She gazed at him with a puzzled expression, her iPod ear buds dangling around her neck.

  So, he hadn’t offered her a hand-up lately. That didn’t mean he couldn’t start now.

  She slid long fingers across his hand, shooting heat up his arm, and he pulled her to her feet.

  He hung on. “Okay, so that wasn’t so bad. If what I’ve gone through helps somebody else, then maybe it was worth talking about it.” His fingers relaxed, and her hand slipped out of his.

  “I think you helped Maddy.” Rachel didn’t move away. “You prayed?”

  He shrugged. “You seem to put a lot of stock in it. And Jesse yelled at God.” He pressed a finger to the small of her back, and gave her a push toward the cockpit. “Now that we all feel better, get back to work.”

  Rachel’s laugh wrapped around him like a hoodie on a damp day. The change between them since Bret’s cruise felt better this week, as if they were finally getting comfortable with it.

  Rachel inhaled the heavy salt air, Hall’s voice reading through her iPod about developmental milestones at eighteen months. Things still seemed distant between them, but Hall had agreed to read for her.

  The last guest on deck, Maddy, had turned in for the night. A shaft of moonlight reflected off the wavelets. Jake bent over the bow, the circle of light from his flashlight disjointed from his body as he checked the anchor. The white ship’s light glowed atop the mainmast.

  Jake rarely stay
ed up this late. Even half a ship between them, attraction crackled in her chest—right next to the snippet of his conversation with Maddy saying he wanted Gabrielle back.

  Jake yelled something, and she yanked the ear buds from her ears, racing toward him.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her down. “The shrimp are running!”

  Rachel’s heart jogged. Her eyes darted to Jake, but he bent over the beam of the flashlight on the water, his hand still clutching her. She followed his gaze to the pop-eyed creatures the size of a pointer finger shooting backwards through the water, whipping their tails under them.

  He thumped the flashlight, warm from his grip, into Rachel’s hand and slapped his palm along the length of the fore cabin. “All hands on deck. The shrimp are running!”

  Jake grabbed long-handled nets and a shop light from below and paced the length of the light beam, chattering to the shrimp, “Come to Papa, sweet babies.”

  He handed Rachel the extra nets and caught her grinning at him. “What?”

  Sparks zinged back and forth between them as though the shop light had connected with seawater.

  Will’s parents, in disheveled nightclothes, clambered from the cabin followed by the rest of the guests.

  A half-hour later, Rachel watched Jake heft a net full of shrimp into the bucket, sloshing seawater over the edge. She wrinkled her nose at the ugly creatures. “No way am I cooking those.”

  “What? You owe me after making me spill to Maddy.”

  Rachel curled her lip at the bucket. “I don’t owe you this much.”

  “Okay, I’ll bargain. What do you want?”

  “A bonus in my check,” Rachel counted off on her fingers, “a day off KP, and another backrub.” Geez, had she really said that?

  His grin widened. “Deal on the backrub.”

  After uncounted pounds of shrimp guts and shells had been tossed overboard and everyone had their fill of warm shrimp cocktail, Rachel washed the last pot.

  Jake wiped down the counters at her elbow. The inside of his arm brushed against her as he reached around her with the dishcloth. Rachel tensed, her gaze skidding into his. Brown eyes flecked with yellow stared back at her for one chime of the ship’s clock. A second chime.

  She let her breath out slowly, willing Jake to do what she read in his tired eyes. Could he have changed his mind about wanting Gabrielle back?

  He smiled softly, leaning in, his lips inches from hers. “Thanks. You were great tonight.”

  “Yeah, I was.”

  Will barreled through the companionway, taking the steps two at a time.

  Jake straightened and tossed the cloth into the dishwater. His speculative look said there would be a next time.

  Maybe God’s forgiveness came with second chances.

  Rachel grinned at Maddy who stood on the pier, flanked by two new duffle bags. White slacks rolled almost to her knees and shirttail out, she looked ready to beachcomb, not fly first class to Pennsylvania.

  Jake scooped up the bags and headed for the waiting taxi.

  Rachel crossed the gangplank and shouldered Maddy’s backpack.

  Maddy caught up with Jake. “Did anybody ever tell you that you look like Brad Pitt with curly hair? If I weren’t nursing a broken heart, I’d go for you.”

  Jake laughed. “Come cruise on the Queen when you recover, and we’ll talk.”

  Rachel darted a glance at Jake and he winked at her.

  Maddy wrinkled her nose. “Take a number after ten thousand other single guys in Philly.” She rolled her eyes and threw an arm over each of their shoulders.

  Maddy squeezed them into a group hug. “You guys make me think God’s not so imaginary after all.” She ducked into the cab and waved out the window as the car took off.

  They stood on the curb until the last flash of yellow disappeared around the corner.

  Emptiness yawned inside Rachel, as if a wave had run out and not come back. Her e-mail address book fattened each week—as if she’d write. To her, the good-byes felt like losing friends, not gaining them.

  Jake turned toward the pier. “About that backrub I promised you—” He planted a hand in the middle of her back. “Or, maybe I should toss you into the drink for putting me on the spot with Maddy.”

  Rachel tore down the dock toward the Queen. Two minutes later, they both slumped in the cockpit laughing between gasps for air.

  He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the crook of his arm. “I caught you.”

  “Did not.”

  “I grabbed your arm before you even got over the gangplank.”

  “I’m not in the Intracoastal, am I?”

  “I can fix that.” Jake jumped up and folded his arms around her middle.

  “Noooooo! I said the cockpit’s base.”

  Jake’s hold loosened, but Rachel didn’t move. Her heart beat like a snare drum.

  He let go and scooted up against the coaming. “Come on, I’ll give you that backrub.”

  Rachel let the air out of her lungs and sank down on the edge of the cockpit bench in front of Jake.

  His thumbs pressed into her shoulders. But she couldn’t relax, thinking about the kiss looming in their future. Trying not to think about Gabrielle.

  “I read in Cruising World that if you spray your dock lines and gangplank with insecticide, you can keep roaches off your boat.”

  Rachel closed her eyes. Obviously, Jake hadn’t been affected. She might as well try to relax and enjoy the backrub.

  A few minutes later her muscles slackened under his hands. “Mmm.”

  Jake kneaded Rachel’s stiff shoulders. Good thing he’d resisted kissing her. Even the asked-for backrub made her uncomfortable.

  A picture of Dad rubbing Mom’s shoulders when he was a kid ran through his head. He could almost hear them talking during the nightly back rubs, though at eight, he hadn’t paid attention to what they said. He wondered if that picture and others like it made him hungry for marriage and kids.

  But he had no idea whether he was over Gabs, what he had to do to get over her. Telling himself he wanted another old-money woman was probably a defense mechanism, keeping him from going after Rachel. If he really wanted old money, Maddy would have qualified. But he wasn’t attracted to her. Possibly, he wasn’t attracted to the entire pool of women who held the key to the upper crust.

  Rachel sighed, the muscles in her shoulders softened under his hands.

  Maybe he was just attracted to Rachel.

  He forked his fingers through the thick ropes of her hair and let the silk curl through his fingers before he pressed his thumbs against the base of her neck.

  Rachel leaned into his touch.

  Movement across the finger pier caught his eye.

  Leaf dropped his mouth open in mock surprise like a mime and shot him a thumbs-up.

  Jake looked down at his fingers tracing the spirals of her ears. He jerked his hands away. He needed to put a lid on his attraction for Rachel. He needed to get his head on straight before he messed with her life.

  Chapter 16

  Rachel walked beside her “little,” six-foot brother across the weathered boards toward the Smyrna Queen. Sunshine toasted the Autumn chill from the air between her and Hall. Tidy trash bins and dock boxes lined the pier like parade watchers. Beyond, boats bobbed in their slips.

  He’d shown up today, meeting her half way to put their relationship back together. She glanced up at him, grateful. “It’s been hard being disconnected from you.”

  He shrugged, and she wished he’d say something—anything.

  She linked her arm through his, grasping for their lifelong connection. “Do you remember when I held your hand when you were learning to walk? When I pushed you on your Big Wheel?”

  “I remember the Big Wheel.” He pointed to a pink scar on his knee.

  “You don’t remember anything before that?”

  Hall shook his head.

  Her most important memories curled up in her chest like tiny snapshots black
ened by fire. She tried to stamp them out. “When you were a baby, Mama and Daddy were gone all day at work. Granny was happy to let me treat you like a baby doll come to life. When I fed you a bottle, you’d gaze up at me like I was your favorite person in the world.”

  “Jusinia is my favorite person now. We’ve grown up.”

  Rachel shot him a wry look. “At least one of us has—you grew up to be the family saint.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m serious.”

  His expression darkened as he gazed toward the far shore, He jammed his hands into the pockets of his surf shorts.

  Rachel’s arm fell away from his side and she squinted at him, awash in undercurrents she hadn’t meant to wade into. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  The soles of her tennis shoes beat a steady rhythm on the splintering boards.

  There used to be a time when Rachel knew what Hall was thinking. She swallowed and focused on his ratty Converses as they closed the distance to the boat. “It’s about time you met the Queen.”

  Hall followed her down the finger pier. “So, show me this barge of yours.”

  “Shhh. She’ll hear you.”

  Jake stood on the Queen’s deck watching them.

  Rachel waved and dragged Hall by the wrist.

  He followed her onto the gangplank.

  She glanced over her shoulder at her brother. “Hall, this is my boss, Jake.”

  The guys shook hands. She watched Jake’s cool gaze skim over Hall’s spiky blond hair and Ron Jon T-shirt. Her lungs filled with pride in Hall and the smell of sunshine baking the Queen’s decks. What did Jake think of her brother?

  Jake turned his back on them. “I’ll be in the engine room.” He disappeared into the fore companionway.

  Rachel blew out a breath, her shoulders sagging. “He’s got a master’s in rude. Come on, I’ll show you our cabin.” She slipped through the aft hatch.

  Hall’s eyes flicked between Rachel’s and Jake’s bunks.