Troubled Waters

by Susan May Warren

  Okay, she could admit a slight stirring of appreciation when Dex had pulled her into his arms for a welcome hug and kiss on her cheek.

  She pushed through the doors out to the deck. “We’re almost ready to shove off. But the captain wants to welcome you,” she said as she walked out, holding the appetizer.

  “The captain and . . . the owner of the yacht,” came a voice.

  Sure enough, the man who could never come close to being her first mate appeared on the deck above her.

  She knew it, oh, she knew it.

  Ian Shaw couldn’t be common, couldn’t blend into the background, couldn’t simply stand aside and serve even if he gave it his best college try.

  He looked regal and wealthy and every inch the owner of a ten-million-dollar yacht in his aviator sunglasses, the wind tousling his auburn hair. He exuded confidence as he came down the stairs, still wearing his cargo shorts, although he’d changed into a white T-shirt.

  Sierra just stood there like a dumbstruck fan as he hit the deck and walked over to her.

  She thought he’d move past her, but instead he stopped. “Let me carry that for you.”

  Huh?

  He picked up the Brie plate and walked over to his friends. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming, especially on such short notice. As you know, the search and rescue team I formed is in trouble, and Sierra and I are going to do our best this weekend to convince you to help us save it.”

  He made the rounds, like he might be the purser, and Sierra just stood there without moving.

  “You didn’t have to cajole us onto your yacht to get us to write a check, Ian,” Vanessa said. “But we’re glad you did.” She took a cracker.

  “Yeah, dude. Just name the amount you need,” Hayes said.

  “No, we need to make him work for it.” Dex leaned up from the railing. “Besides, what he isn’t telling you is that this is the maiden voyage of the Montana Rose.”

  It was? She glanced at Ian.

  He didn’t look at her, just shrugged. “All work and no play—”

  “We’re going to play this weekend, though,” Noelly said, her eyes sparkling. And the way she looked at Ian, almost hungry, had Sierra wanting to back away slowly.

  That, or . . .

  No, really, she couldn’t push Noelly Crawford overboard. Because Noelly was probably the one person who could hold her own with Ian Shaw. Who deserved to be in his circle.

  In fact, they made a beautiful couple. Even the Instagram audience agreed, given the likes.

  Ian set down the platter and glanced at Sierra, frowning. Nodded for her to join them.

  Kelley and Erica came through the doors carrying already opened bubbly champagne, followed by Captain Gregory, a thick-built man with the sea in his eyes.

  Erica gave a double take at Hayes as she handed the man a flute of champagne. Yeah, well, Hayes was an attractive man. And Erica, with her bobbed brown hair, freckled nose, and warm smile, looked every inch a cheerleader.

  But the help shouldn’t mingle with the guests, and Sierra needed to remember that. Hopefully Erica would too because the last thing Sierra needed was trouble below deck.

  Captain Gregory shook the guests’ hands and gave a short rundown of their trip.

  A quick round-trip down to Cancun, then back to Galveston. “We’ll have time for some fishing tomorrow, and a day of snorkeling once we anchor off the coast of Mexico.”

  Then he invited them to raise a glass.

  Noelly slipped her arm through Ian’s and tugged him to stand next to her.

  Ian looked down at her and smiled, such warmth in his gaze that Sierra nearly missed the captain handing her a glass. She shook her head. Hired help and all. Besides, it wouldn’t last long in her suddenly roiling stomach.

  She looked down, took a breath. This was about raising funds for PEAK. Nothing else mattered.

  Captain Gregory raised his glass. “Mark Twain once said, ‘Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than those you did. So, throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the wind in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.’ Ladies and gentlemen, let us catch the wind. To a safe voyage.”

  “A safe voyage,” they echoed, and Ian raised his glass along with the rest of his chums, the beautiful people.

  The people with whom he belonged.

  The captain left them on the deck, and Sierra was about to follow Erica back to the galley when she heard someone call her name.

  Not Ian, but Dex. He came over to her, holding his champagne. He slid his glasses down his nose, caught her in his beautiful gaze. “So, what fun do you have planned for us?”

  She noticed a few other heads had swiveled in her direction, so she returned to the group. “Tomorrow is a travel day, so it’s mostly relaxing on the boat. But Erica is a trained massage therapist and she’ll offer you on-deck massages. And if you want to fish off the stern, Kelley will fix you up.” She didn’t look at Ian, didn’t want to silently suggest that maybe he could help.

  “Then, the next day, we’ll anchor off Isla Mujeres, a little island off Cancun, and do some jet-skiing or snorkeling. We’ll head back that night, get you back into port by late Monday afternoon.”

  “Unless we mutiny and decide to head for the high seas,” Dex said.

  “It’s entirely possible, with Ian at the helm,” Vanessa said.

  Sierra glanced at Ian, frowning.

  His eyes had widened, and he shot what looked like a panicked expression at his laughing friends. Then he turned to Sierra, deadly serious. “None of that was my fault. Dex was the one with the keys.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ian looked away, staring out at something across the wharf. He shook his head as if in disbelief.

  “Oh, Ian, you never told Sierra your secrets?” Vanessa said.

  Then Hayes turned to her. “Hasn’t he told you how we met?”

  She shook her head.

  “We’re Ian’s study group from Stanford.”

  “More like his students.” Dex sat down on a deck chair. “Actually, I was his student, and Hayes was in my calculus class—”

  “Why they had me in calc, I’ll never know. I studied psychology and coaching,” Hayes said. “But I was failing, badly.”

  “And I never had a hope without Ian,” Dex said.

  Strangely, she understood Dex’s words more than she wanted to. Sierra shot a look at Ian, who now cleared his throat.

  She had always wondered how he’d met this handful of affluent friends. She never would have guessed that he might’ve been helping them with their homework.

  “So, I got Ian to tutor both me and Hayes, and one night, late, he says we need a break. Suggests we go to the pier.”

  “I just wanted us to, I don’t know, maybe get something to eat,” Ian mumbled, still staring away.

  “So, we’re walking along the pier, and there’s hundreds of boats moored there, and suddenly Dex has this brilliant idea to borrow one,” Hayes said.

  “No—my uncle had a boat in a slip there. I intended to take his,” Dex said. “He’d let me use it plenty of times, and yeah, I had the key.”

  “Only, the key didn’t work,” Ian said, looking pointedly now at Dex. “And I tried to tell him that we shouldn’t go out, but . . .” Ian sighed. “There is not an outboard motor made, big or small, that can’t be rope started.”

  This statement began a round of laughter that had Vanessa coughing, Noelly grinning, and Ian shaking his head.

  “Let’s just say he got it started,” Hayes said.

  “I told him that the sea was calling,” Dex said.

  The motors of the Montana Rose kicked on, and the entire yacht trembled, began to hum.

  She could have imagined it, but it looked like Ian stiffened.

  “Only problem was, it wasn’t my uncle’s boat,” Dex added, now setting down his champagne as he bent over, laughing.

  Sierra stared at Ian
. “What?”

  Ian wasn’t laughing. “Yeah. We’d just stolen a boat, and the worst thing was, I hadn’t a clue how to drive it.”

  “I did, but . . .” Dex lifted a shoulder.

  “He was drunk,” Vanessa said, rolling her eyes. “And the reason I know that is because it was my family’s boat they rammed into the pier.”

  “They didn’t even get it out of the slip?” Sierra said.

  “Oh, they did—took it for a spin around Alcatraz.”

  “It was a beautiful night,” Hayes said. And as if caught in memory, he looked up.

  Indeed, it would be a beautiful night over Galveston also. The sun hovered just above the horizon, and in the settling darkness, a few stars had risen, winking in the magenta evening. The wind smelled of the sea, fresh and mysterious.

  Right then, the captain threw the yacht into drive, because they jerked forward, just a gentle lurch away from the pier.

  Dex grabbed his drink. Hayes caught Vanessa as she lost her footing.

  Ian had taken off his sunglasses and now ran his hand across his brow.

  For a moment, no one moved, just watched as the Montana Rose slid into the harbor, parting the water like silk and heading into the trail of rising moonlight.

  “Anchors away!” Noelly said, grinning. She leaned over and kissed Ian on the cheek. “Oh, this will be fun. The maiden voyage of the Montana Rose.”

  “Really, the maiden voyage?” Hayes asked.

  “You’d be shy to take out a boat too, if your last boating experience had you ramming the vessel into a pier!” Noelly said.

  “I wasn’t driving,” Ian said tersely.

  “Parking is hard in the dark,” Dex protested.

  “When you’re drunk.” Ian looked at Sierra, solemn. “I didn’t realize he was so drunk.”

  “You were the one turning green, holding yourself over the edge of the boat,” Hayes said.

  It was then that Sierra caught Dex’s sharp look, first at Hayes, then at Ian.

  Huh?

  Hayes sobered then. “No, Ian wasn’t drinking. He was just . . . seasick.”

  “It didn’t stop the cops from giving him a sobriety test when they showed up. And arresting us all for reckless driving.”

  “And calling our house,” Vanessa said. “My parents were away on vacation, but I went down to the dock and found these losers, along with our damaged boat.”

  “That’s when true love stepped in,” Dex said, glancing at Vanessa.

  She rolled her eyes. “Dream on, lover boy. It was all Hayes and his sweet talk, offering me season tickets for life, wherever he played.”

  She flashed him a grin then, and yep, Sierra spied something in it that suggested a hint of that true love Dex had mentioned. Especially since Hayes still had a hand on her back, steadying her. Maybe Vanessa had shown up for the trip to rekindle something with Hayes.

  “And Ian promised to help me through my statistics class,” Vanessa said. “So I said the boys had borrowed the boat, and . . . well, the rest is history.”

  Ian had said nothing, and for the first time, Sierra noticed his gaze on her. Solemn. As if waiting for something.

  And with a jolt, a sort of awakening, she got it.

  Ian wasn’t like his friends, with their trust funds and million-dollar legacies. He’d grown up the son of a hired man, on Dex’s ranch. He’d simply taken his brains and done something with his life.

  A big something.

  Maybe wealth wasn’t a state of income but a state of mind.

  It could be that, at his core, Ian saw life the way she did.

  She’d always thought that to Ian, life was about winning.

  But maybe, like Sierra, he simply hoped to survive.

  When he looked up and met her eyes, she didn’t look away.

  Maybe they were in this together.

  7

  SIX HOURS UNDERWAY and no one had fallen overboard, they hadn’t driven into the eye of a hurricane, sharks hadn’t surrounded the yacht, no galley fire threatened to consume the ship, and he hadn’t spotted even a hint of a whale to capsize them.

  No real reason for Ian to be standing on the uppermost deck, his hands gripping the rail as he stared out at the inky black sea. The moon hung enormous and stone white against the black palette, tracing a starlight path through the waves that rocked the ship.

  In the distance, he could just barely make out the twinkling lights of the coastline.

  Captain Gregory sat in his chair on the bridge—Ian had stopped in briefly to check on the weather conditions.

  All clear, smooth sailing, not a hint of trouble. “All’s well, go to bed, sir.”

  Who was he kidding? Ian hadn’t a hope of sleeping tonight—probably not for the next three days.

  Below, on the main deck, he spied Kelley, good bosun that he was, doing a walk around the perimeter of the ship, perhaps one final check before retiring.

  “No one is going to die.” It felt good to voice it, to speak the positive words out into the breeze.

  “That’s good to know,” said a voice, and Ian turned to see Hayes climbing the stairs to the deck. The light from the whirlpool illuminated his face. He dipped a hand into the water, as if testing it. Probably Kelley would close it at the end of his patrol.

  “What are you doing up?” Ian asked.

  Hayes came over, stood next to him at the rail. “Oh . . . tonight’s story about us stealing Nessa’s boat. It was itching at me.”

  Ian frowned.

  Hayes leaned over the rail and stared out into the darkness. “I’ve thought about it for a long time now. We could have cost you your scholarship with our stupidity.” Hayes lifted a shoulder. “We shouldn’t have done that to you.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, but you worked hard, even then, and . . . well, I’m sorry that we sometimes got you in over your head.”

  Ian shrugged, but Hayes’s words sunk in, grabbed hold. “I feel like I’m in over my head pretty much all the time these days.”

  He didn’t know why he said that, especially to Hayes, who had beaten the odds and fought for every chance he got. Just because he had parents who could afford to send him to Stanford didn’t mean he’d had his meal ticket to the NFL punched.

  “Who doesn’t? I’m one bad hit away from my knees giving out or my ankles getting sprained.” He indicated the brace he wore on his leg. “Every time I go out on the field, I think . . . is this my last game?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. If I didn’t know that God had my back, I’d be a basket case every time I heard the ‘Star-Spangled Banner.’”

  “What?”

  Hayes drew in a breath then. “Yeah, uh, that’s why I came on this trip. A couple years ago, I hit bottom, and, well, there comes a time in a man’s life when he either has to get right with Jesus and ask for help, or go it alone. Our team chaplain told me to count it a gift when God is my only option, and . . . he’s right. I decided to refuse to believe anything but that God is good and he loves me. Doesn’t mean life isn’t insane sometimes, but I’m not in this alone. And I thought maybe you needed to hear that.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Mr. I-Always-Have-It-Together. You act like you never need any help. Sure, you’ll be glad to raise funds for others—and of course I’ll donate to your cause, Ian, but I could have done that over the phone. I wanted to talk to you. See how you were. You know, after this summer . . .” He lifted a shoulder. “Dex told me about the fire, and the fine.”

  Oh. “No big deal. I’m fine.”

  “Really? Because you look tired, man. And stressed. And maybe not sleeping?”

  “I caused a fire that killed people.”

  “No, a tragic accident occurred, and you feel responsible to fix it. Not unlike Katrina, my man. You need to get over this idea that you control natural events.”

  Ian leaned down, staring at his hands. “My software played a role.” He shook his head. “It’s just . .
. I feel like everything I do backfires. That no matter how hard I try, eventually it’ll turn into ash in my hands.”

  Hayes said nothing.

  “Like when I tried to help my niece, Esme. When my sister went into rehab, I thought, I’ll take her in. Actually, it was Sierra’s idea. But it was a good one. I’d made peace with Allison’s and Daniel’s deaths, or thought so, and I just wanted family, you know?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Everything was going so well, and then Esme met this local kid, Dante. Suddenly, I saw her entire future being destroyed. I pretty much made her choose between love and a college education.”

  “That’s life, man. We all have to make hard choices to get the future we want.” And when Hayes met his eyes, Ian had a sense that Hayes had his own story to tell. Maybe something to do with Vanessa and the way he’d suddenly turned his attention her direction. Not that Ian was complaining—the further Hayes stayed away from Sierra, the better.

  “She ran away with Dante. Or I thought so until Dante’s body turned up. He was murdered.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. But then we discovered that Esme was alive. She was just in hiding, and I pretty much became obsessed with finding her.” He pressed his hands together. “And that’s when Sierra walked out of my life.”

  “I was wondering what happened between you two . . . I thought . . . well, the way you two were together, I guess I thought maybe you’d stubbed a toe over that employer-employee line.”

  How about leaped headfirst? “Once. I kissed her. And then I swore not to do it again. And I didn’t.” Not until after he’d fired her, at least.

  “Good man.”

  “No . . . believe me. In my head, I was kissing her a lot. I’ve been in love with her since . . . well, it doesn’t matter, because I blew it.”

  Hayes said nothing, waited.

  “She believes that Esme doesn’t want to be found. And my obsession with finding her is only controlling and bossy and . . . well, invading my niece’s privacy.”