Troubled Waters

by Susan May Warren

  More silence.

  “I’m just worried about her.”

  “I get that, but it’s her life, man.”

  Ian sighed. “A year ago, I started searching for the identity of a woman whose body we found in the same area as Dante’s. I was hoping that by solving her murder, I might find a fresh lead in Esme’s disappearance. But there’s been nothing. And . . . maybe Sierra’s right. Esme called a year ago and asked me to stop looking for her, but I couldn’t shake the sense that she still needed me. That it was simply fear talking. Now . . . maybe I need to accept her words for what they are.”

  “I’m hearing regret.”

  “No, you’re hearing a man who is ready for a fresh start. I’m selling the ranch and moving to Texas.”

  “Wow. And what about Sierra?”

  Ian shook his head. “She doesn’t want me. Once upon a time, I thought she did, but . . . I hurt her.”

  “Big surprise there.”

  “What?”

  Hayes turned to him. “Ian, I love you like a brother, but you’re about the most controlling know-it-all I’ve ever met. You expect a lot from yourself—and your friends. You’re, in a word, obsessive. That’s great for business, but not so great in relationships. You need to loosen up, have some fun, and stop trying to be in charge of everything. I know you’re afraid of losing everything you love, including Sierra, but you can’t control everything. Not life, not people.”

  “I’m not controlling—”

  “When I came on deck, you were declaring to the wind and seas that all would be well. As if they would obey you.”

  No, he was . . . okay, maybe . . . if he could . . .

  “Listen, Ian, my friend. You might have been Sierra’s boss, but you can’t be the boss in your relationship. And I’ll bet that’s exactly what happened.”

  Their second, and last, kiss whooshed back to him. The way he’d grabbed her up, had simply let his emotions unload. And sure she’d responded, but yes, he’d definitely been in charge in that moment.

  He had also assumed they’d continue the search for Esme. Which accounted for his anger and abrupt rejection when Sierra said no.

  So he’d practically ordered her out of his house. His life.

  Ian stood up and laced his hands behind his neck. “Okay, I’m a bit controlling. But . . . someone has to be, or life is going to . . . well, people will get hurt. Die.”

  He met Hayes’s eyes with a challenge.

  “See, that’s your problem, dude. Yes, someone has to be in control, but it’s not you. That’s way too much pressure for something you’re only going to fail at.”

  “Don’t religion me, Hayes. I know I can’t control everything. Last time I looked, God was in charge of natural disasters, like hurricanes.”

  “Yes, he is. And I’m so sorry about your wife and your son. But let’s get down to the studs, here. You didn’t blame God, did you? You blamed yourself. And you should ask yourself why. Maybe it’s because, deep down, you know that neither of you are to blame. Allison and Daniel just died. And it’s horrible. But that doesn’t mean that God has abandoned you.”

  Ian walked over to a deck chair and sank into it. Leaned back and stared at the stars. “You have no idea how much I wish that were true.”

  Hayes turned, his back to the rail. “He’s not punishing you, either, Ian.”

  “You’re right. He just doesn’t care.”

  Hayes came over and dipped his hand again in the whirlpool. “He cares, man. More than you can grasp. And you might consider letting God take the helm. Just for a day. Let him prove it.”

  He lifted out his hand, splashed water in Ian’s direction. It landed on him, sprinkling his skin, raising gooseflesh.

  “Hey!”

  “And maybe you should stop being so bossy around Sierra. See what happens.”

  “I’m not the boss of her—”

  “Try telling her that. Because I see the way she looks at you, Man of Steel. She’ll do whatever you ask.”

  That eked out a smile. “We’re just friends. And barely that.”

  Hayes shook his head. “Go to bed. I have fish I want to catch in the morning. And so do you.” He winked.

  Ian couldn’t stop himself. “So, you’re not here because . . .” Oh shoot. “Because you have a thing for Sierra?”

  Hayes was halfway down the stairs and now came back up one step, popping his head above the stairwell. “Are you kidding? There’s only one guy for Sierra, right?”

  Ian gave a small smile, nodded.

  “Dex,” Hayes said and lifted his hand as he disappeared down the stairs.

  But Ian heard him laughing.

  Very funny.

  For a moment, the sunrise simply stopped her. Molten yellow along the horizon of the ocean, dragging a brilliant stripe through the dark magenta waves. Above, the vault of dissipating night had turned a vivid royal blue, the dawn turning the padding between firmament and atmosphere a wispy, gentle turquoise.

  Moments like these, Sierra could almost reach out and touch God. Believe that he had stopped time, just for her, to give her a vision of tomorrow. Of hope.

  Of grace.

  She stood at the rail and drank it in, watching the waves ripple under the fingers of light. This is the day . . .

  “You’re up early.”

  Her breath caught, but the Texas drawl didn’t belong to the man she couldn’t drag her mind away from. Instead, she turned and found a smile for Dex.

  He wore a pair of board shorts slung low and an open linen shirt. She took a breath, not sure what view might be more, well, enticing, and opted for another cleansing view of the sunrise.

  Dex came to stand beside her. Only then did he frown. “Wait—is that—”

  “I was loading chum into the cooler, and it spilled on me.”

  All over her, down her pink shirt and onto her shorts. Yes, she smelled like a fresh catch of mackerel and sardines.

  “You know, the deckhand could do that.”

  “I know. I just wanted it ready in case you or Hayes—or Vanessa for that matter—wanted to get up early and fish. I wanted it to be—”

  “Perfect. I know you, Sierra.”

  He wore his sunglasses propped behind his neck and now looked at her with those aqua blue eyes, something of a twinkle in them, and she didn’t know what to say.

  “If you want to fish, I can ask Kelley to come out and get you started.”

  “I think I can handle it,” he said. “My family has been deep-sea fishing a few times. Noelly is an amazing fisherwoman.”

  Oh. Of course she was. And she probably looked uh-mazin’ doing it too.

  “I’ll make sure she’s set up,” Sierra said, suddenly aware of the smile playing on Dex’s handsome face. He hadn’t shaved, and the sunlight gleamed in the bronze and gold hues of his whiskers.

  Oh boy.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee? I’ll run to the galley—”

  “Sierra, stop.”

  When he said it like that, soft, with a hint of longing in his voice, it caught her so unaware that she froze.

  She turned to him.

  “Listen,” he said. Then he sighed, as if the bearer of bad news.

  “What? Were the beds too hard? Maybe something you ate?”

  He touched her arm, just for a second, then pulled away. “Stop. Everything is fantastic. It’s just that you’re the hardest-working person I know, and I think you should take a breath. Relax. Look at the view.”

  She smiled at him. “I was looking at the view when you came up.”

  “Right. But you don’t have to worry. We’re all going to have a great time—and we’re going to make sure that your PEAK chopper gets back in the air.”

  “How did you know—”

  “Ian told us all about the crash last night after you went to bed. He told us what the cost is, why we need to help out, and exactly the lives that will be saved. So, no worries, Sierra. Your job is done. Now it’s time to enjoy yourself.”
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  She didn’t know what to say.

  “The sun will not cease to shine and the sky will be just as blue if you take the day off . . . and, I don’t know . . . fish with me.”

  Fish. With Dex?

  “The staff knows what they’re doing. In fact, you’re probably in the way. And I know for certain that your guests would enjoy themselves more if they knew you were having a good time.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Oh.

  “Listen, go change clothes and let’s see if we can catch a tuna, huh?”

  Change . . . oh, the smell.

  “Or, I could just throw you overboard, use you for bait?” He winked at her. “Although, the chivalrous side of me would demand I dive in and rescue you, so maybe that’s not the best idea.”

  She laughed. “Maybe not.” But the image of Dex rescuing her had her heart thumping a little too wildly.

  “I’ll get the rods set up,” Dex said.

  Oh, what was she doing? But she’d seemingly lost her ability to speak. So maybe it wasn’t the worst idea, to spend the day having fun. If it meant her guests relaxed. And they were spending most of the day traveling, so . . .

  She hurried down the hallway, into her tiny room. What to wear?

  Despite her better judgment, she reached for the bikini top her sister had thrown into her bag. Nothing too revealing—more of a sports bra, really, the way it covered her, but it did leave her stomach bare. Her very white, very under-sunned stomach. But this might be her only opportunity to fix that. So she kept it on and grabbed an orange T-shirt to pull over it. Slid on a swim skirt, another of her sister’s suggestions.

  She pulled her dark hair back with a lime green bandanna, grabbed a pair of sunglasses, and felt pretty sure she’d lost her mind.

  When she emerged from her room, the smell of coffee in the gangway made her detour to the galley.

  “Mornin’. I have eggs Benedict and fresh fruit on the way,” Cat said as Sierra poured herself a cup of coffee and another one for Dex.

  She passed Noelly on the way out to the sun deck. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

  “Kelley already offered,” she said and glanced behind Sierra. Sure enough, Kelley came bearing a cup of coffee on a tray.

  He smiled at her. “Ma’am.”

  “Morning, Kelley,” she said and headed to the back deck.

  Dex was waiting for her, holding the two poles. He’d dragged the bait cooler to the back and was adjusting the dials on what looked like a radar screen.

  “Fish finder. Tuna are usually found in warm current, which, according to the captain, we’re in, so now we just have to find the school of tuna and throw in some chum.”

  Disgusting fish pieces sloshed in a bucket, far enough away so that it didn’t soak their feet. He was adjusting the radar. “The chum will attract the tuna to the surface.”

  “Isn’t that cheating?”

  “It’s like perfume on a pretty girl. Just turns their heads.” He glanced over and winked at her, then turned back to the finder. “Oh, I think we got ourselves a school. I’m throwing in the bait.”

  He picked up the bucket and dumped it over the side of the boat.

  Pieces of butterfish, squid, mackerel, and sardines floated on the surface.

  “Yum,” Dex said. He’d turned his hat backward on his head and sat down, the fishing pole in his hand. “While we’re waiting, we’ll bait our hooks.”

  He pulled out the line and indicated a heavy weight about three feet above the hook. “This is the egg weight. It keeps the hook below water, where the tuna are. Hand me a sardine.”

  “What?”

  “I’m kidding. I got it.” He kicked over the cooler, opened it, and pulled out a frozen sardine about as thick as his hand. “My father is a huge fan of deep-sea fishing. He has a 127-pound tuna mounted on our wall. He taught me how to bait a hook.”

  She watched as he wound the fish around the hook, embedding the hook deep inside, hidden from a curious tuna.

  “It’s all about patience. See, a tuna will swim by, take a look, watch the bait. Then, when it can’t wait anymore, it’ll hit on the bait and hopefully hook it enough for you to notice. You’ll start reeling it in, steadying until the line gets tight. And that’s when the fight begins! You’ll love it, I promise.”

  She’d been so caught up in his description, she failed to see the tuna now surfacing to gobble up the chum. A silver and gray fish, bigger than her entire body, it seemed, snatched a bloody mass of fish.

  “I saw one!”

  Dex laughed, and she hated how much she liked it.

  “Okay, now this is weird, but if you really want to be serious about catching a tuna, you need to wear gear.” He looked up, and she turned to see Kelley walking out to the deck carrying what looked like PEAK climbing gear.

  “It’s a fishing harness, and it will help you hold onto the pole and fight the fish without wearing out.” Dex reached for the harness and climbed in, hitching it tight around his hips.

  Kelley handed her the harness, but Dex took it, held it open for her.

  She balanced on his shoulders as she stepped in. He hitched it tight for her, then inserted the pole in the rigging in front. “Keep your weight back as you reel in.”

  “What if the fish pulls me in?”

  “Aw, darlin’, I won’t let that happen to you.” He winked again, and she had the strangest urge to look over her shoulder, see if Ian might be looking.

  Not that it mattered. She had every right to spend the day fishing with Dex, even flirting with him if she wanted to. As long as it didn’t cross any lines.

  Which, of course, it wouldn’t. Because she was a professional. And, the help.

  Even if Dex did make her feel like she might be a guest on his fancy fishing show. He showed her how to cast, then let out her line until the weight dragged the hook down to the right depth. He locked her reel, then did the same with his rig.

  They stood there, the sun warm on her skin, waiting, watching the poles bob in the water.

  “Do you fish a lot?” she asked him as she reached for her coffee.

  “When I can. Dad likes to rent boats, and he’s got a few friends who take us out.”

  “You don’t have a boat?”

  “Ian’s trying to get me to buy this one,” Dex said. “What do you think?”

  “Um . . . sure. It’s a great boat. But why is he selling it?”

  He pulled on the pole, jigging it in the water. “I think he feels guilty about the people who lost their homes in the fire. He’s trying to raise more capital, short of selling a company.”

  Oh. “Yeah, that sounds like Ian. He’s always trying to fix things.”

  Dex looked over at her. “He says the same thing about you. He was always raving about how you were the best assistant he’d ever had.”

  “I tried. I loved working for him.”

  “And yet, you quit.”

  She glanced at Dex. “I was fired. And then, yes, I might have quit, but . . . Ian is—was—I don’t know, obsessed with finding his niece, and I am . . .” She swallowed. “Pretty sure she doesn’t want to be found. And that obsession took up all the room in his life. I couldn’t be a part of that anymore.”

  “He’s a little at loose ends without you.”

  She mimicked his jigging. “I can assure you, he’s fine. He doesn’t need me.”

  Dex made a funny noise of assent, and might have said “good.” But his word was lost on the sudden yank on her pole. It nearly knocked her off her feet, and had it not been strapped in, the pole would have ripped right out of her hands.

  “You got a bite! You need to set the hook—start reeling in! Kelley, get over here!”

  Dex was scrambling to unhook his pole from his harness and now handed it over to Kelley, who had appeared from whatever shadow he lingered in.

  She had planted her feet and was leaning back just like Dex had told her to. Now, she began to reel, and the pole bent nearly in half.

  �
�Reel in a little, then stop and pull back—it’ll release the tension and you can reel up the slack. You’ll work the fish in closer.”

  She did exactly that, but her back and arms screamed from the labor.

  Next to her, Kelley was reeling in Dex’s empty line. He reached the hook and pulled it in, then set it aside.

  She reeled hard, pulled back, and let out an involuntary groan.

  “Hang in there, champ,” Dex said. Then he stepped right up behind her, put his arms around her, and grabbed the pole. “C’mon, together now.” He pulled back on the pole. “Reel hard!”

  She obeyed, keenly aware of Dex’s arms around her, the strength in his chest and arms as he worked the pole with her, as they fought to bring the tuna to the boat.

  She got a glimpse of the fish through the blades of water and gasped.

  “This is a huge yellowfin, Kelley. Get your gloves on,” Dex said.

  Kelley leaned over the edge, wearing thick yellow gloves and ran his hand down the line.

  The tuna surfaced, fighting, and Kelley pulled on the line, yanking it toward the boat.

  The fish thrashed and nearly pulled Kelley in. The line released, and with it, the power of the tuna. It jerked Sierra forward and she screamed.

  Dex’s arms closed around her and held her fast. “Gotcha,” he said. “Don’t let go of the pole!”

  She shook her head.

  But her screams had caused a commotion from behind her, and a moment later she spotted Hayes, gloved and leaning over the side, grabbing her line. “We need the gaffs!”

  Kelley ran to get the gaffs—returning in a second to shove one of the long poles with the dangerous hooks into Hayes’s grip.

  “Can you reel?” Dex said into her ear, his arms still clamped around her.

  She nodded and kept fighting, even as the fish swam behind the boat, its fin slicing the water.

  “C’mon, baby,” Kelley said. “Just a little closer . . .”

  Hayes held the line as she reeled it in, steadying it. “Now, Kelley!”

  Kelley reached down and hooked the tuna by the gill. Hayes hooked it by the other gill.

  Then Dex reached around her to grab the free line, and together they heaved the monster fish onto the boat.