Page 10 of A Shore Fling
“Eek!” I squeal, but after the brutal intensity of the sun, it’s refreshing. I make the trek to the island, marveling at how shallow the water is. Shouldn’t there be signs warning people who aren’t familiar with the area? Am I the only one who’s made this mistake?
My sandals make a squelching sound as I leave the water. I glance down at the Italian leather and grimace. They’re probably ruined, but that can’t be helped. At least the bottom of my feet are protected from the sizzling-hot sand. My tan linen shorts are stuck to my thighs like a second skin as I make my way inland. There’s a part of the beach that’s shaded by a thick copse of trees, so I sit down there.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I stare out at the beautiful blue-green tones of the water, and think about how my dad and my brother will react tomorrow morning when my scheduled email is sent. I’d better remember to keep my phoneoff so they can’t guilt me into feeling bad. Irene is the only one who knows where I am, and I know she won’t tell anyone else. She made me share my location with her in case she doesn’t hear from me. I guess I can take solace in knowing that eventually she’ll contact someone when she can’t reach me.
Oh well. For now, there’s nothing for me to do but relax and make the most of the situation.
Three hours later, I’m not feeling so optimistic. I’m hot and cranky, and I’m pretty sure my deodorant has quit working. I’ve waded into the sea numerous times. While it offers a brief respite from the heat, by the time I walk back to the shaded area, I’m hot all over again.
And, God, am I thirsty. I’m so parched, I’ve even contemplated drinking my urine. Briefly contemplated, that is. But I decided I’d rather take my chances and risk death.
I glance at my watch. There are only a few more hours of daylight remaining, and I don’t want to think about what wild animals might live in the woods behind me. Can bears swim well enough to make it over here?
I should sleep on the boat tonight. But what if it somehow loosens and I float out to sea? I’d rather face the possibility of bears.
I should nap now and stay awake when it’s dark. As soon as I have the thought, I know it’s my best option. I remove my uncomfortable sandals and sigh with relief. The wet leather has rubbed my feet raw in several places. Turning my head sideways, I rest my cheek on my knees and close my eyes. The sound of the water lapping against the shore slowly lulls me to sleep.
CHAPTER 4
TRAVIS
The sun hangs low behind the treeline, casting a long gold streak across the water as I guide the boat through the shallows off North Cove. It’s getting late, and my patrol’s almost done. I just have one more sweep down this stretch and then it’s back to the docks, file the log, lock up, and microwave whatever leftovers are in my fridge.
The motor quietly purrs beneath me as I keep the throttle low and scan the shoreline. With the tide out, the marsh grasses and weeds are visible. I continue for a few more minutes before something catches my eye off the shore of a narrow, uninhabited spit. A boat with a white and red hull sits oddly in the water, definitely not where one should be.
Squinting, I try to make out more details before I grab the binoculars. It’s a Sea Ray SPX 190, and from what I see, it appears to be in good shape. There’s no anchor line, and it’s too still to be drifting.
Easing off the throttle, I change course and spot a woman on the shore, arms flailing. As I get closer, I hear her shouting, “Hey! Over here!”
I raise my hand in acknowledgment to ease her apparent panic and then radio in. “Harbormaster to shore. I’ve got adisabled vessel offshore of North Cove, Sea Ray SPX 190, with no one aboard. I have a visual of a female waving from the shore. Requesting medical standby in case she’s injured.”
I kill the throttle, drifting in as close to the Sea Ray as I dare. She’s sitting low but stable, with the ignition off. I’d bet my paycheck she got caught up in the shoals.
“Hey! What about me?” she shouts, looking like some washed-up shipwreck survivor. She’s barefoot with tan shorts clinging to her thighs and long brown hair hanging in tangled, salty corkscrews. Even from one hundred fifty feet out, I can already tell she’s the city type.
I throw the boat into neutral. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Are you injured?”
“No.” She bends down, picking up something before she walks into the water.
“Wait. I’ll come get you.”
She shakes her head, continuing onward with determination. She’s probably been out here for hours all alone and wants to get back to her overpriced rental. I’m already regretting everything that’s about to happen in the final half hour of my shift.
She sloshes toward me, raising the items in her hand over her head as the water reaches her waist.
“Careful,” I mutter. “I wouldn’t want to add a twisted ankle to your list of accomplishments today.”
She squints up at me from beneath a wide-brimmed hat, breathing hard. “Are you always this welcoming, or am I just special?”
“It depends. Do you always beach a forty-thousand-dollar boat in water that isn’t deep enough for a kayak?”
Her lips flattening into a thin line, she shrugs. “There’s a first time for everything.”
“Let’s hope this is it for you… at least for today.” I hold up my finger. “Don’t move.” I idle the patrol boat closer, keeping an eyeon the depth gauge. This near the shore, I can’t risk more than a quick nudge toward her. I throw the engine in neutral and move to the side, reaching down. “Hand me your things.” A pair of sandals and some sunglasses get passed to me.
She eyes the side of the boat. “I don’t suppose you have a ladder?”
“This is a patrol boat, not a yacht. I don’t have champagne either.”
