Page 55 of Priceless
“I can manage that.”
The air tasted different at that hour, and brought all those berry-picking memories back with perfect clarity. The raspberry fights when the bosses weren’t watching. The frustration of going home early enough to go back to bed, but too awake to take advantage of it.
The closer we got to the water, however, the smells changed, reminding me of the night before, standing on that shore, watching the lights dance, feeling my blood dance…
In the ten minutes it took to reach the dock, I was tempted to lean against the window and close my eyes. But I didn’t. And I tried not to do the math, to figure out how long it would be before I could go back to bed. Including Trenton, the chef, at least four people were trying to make sure I had a good time, and I wouldn’t mope around all day wishing they hadn’t.
The dock smelled…weird. Kind of sharp, kind of sour, kind of like someone had spilled pickle juice into an ashtray. I tried hard not to wrinkle my nose. and tried to look impressed anyway. Jacob lugged a long cooler out of the back of his Land Rover, then tossed it onto his shoulder like it was a shoebox. The least I could do was not whine about odors.
I turned to look for the fishing boat that was supposedly waiting for us, but it was impossible to see anything on the other side of the monstrous-sized ship in front of us. Then I read the name and my mouth fell open.
The Mad Molly.
I could have wept for joy—we definitely would not need a bigger boat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jess’s family boatmade the other vessels look like bathtub toys. Her hull was bluish white in the shadows, and the front of it was sharply pointed, like it could impale anything that got in its way.
Jacob followed my gaze. “Aye, that’s MacArthur’s wee thing. Jess grew up on her decks.”
“She grew up onthat?” I shook my head, still staring. “My family’s boat was a canoe, and I think it tipped over every time I was in it.”
He smiled and adjusted his grip on the cooler. “I cannae imagine the storm that could topple this one.”
Water gurgled nearby, taunting me to look at it, but I refused. The cold morning breeze stirred up a dozen smells, none of which I could identify. Briny, metallic, seafoody. It was nothing like Denver, where the air smelled of dirt and alfalfa and sun-warmed pine trees.
This was just not my world.
It was not my world…and soon I would have to go back to my own.
Jess appeared on the deck and waved over the rail. Her hair was in a braid that hung over one shoulder, and she looked far too cheerful for the hour. “Jacob! Tell me that’s food not bait!”
“Aye. Lunch. And a proper breakfast too. Better than yer da’s porridge!”
Banner appeared over Jess’ shoulder. “That wouldnae take much!” He threw a leg over the rail and started down a metal ladder affixed to the side of the ship. I really hoped that wasn’t the only way to get on board. I hadn’t climbed a ladder in years. But when Banner joined us on the dock, and Jess right after him, they led us further down.
“Food later,” she said. “I’m starved, but we’ll get out on the water first.”
I followed behind Jacob and forced myself not to look beyond his charming backside.
Going in a boat, not the water. Nice and safe. Just a boat…
Jacob carried on past theMad Molly’snose without slowing, leaving all that sturdy metal behind. My stomach lurched when we stopped at the next boat over—a much newer vessel about thirty feet long. It was low to the water and looked suspiciously close to the size of the boat inJaws!
The black bumpers hanging along its side made a rubbery squeak as the boat nudged the dock. My heart and stomach became a couple of bumpers bouncing off each other, but without the squeak.
“This one’s more conducive to pole fishin’, aye?” Jess crossed a woefully narrow gangplank that lined up with a gap in the railing. The boat didn’t seem to notice the addition of her weight, so at least it was better than a canoe. “Moray Firth is calm, this mornin’. A perfect day for this.”
“Grand day for it,” Banner agreed and followed her across.
I stayed where I was, staring at the board, at how much of it spanned over the water. I didn’t think I could do this.
Jacob stepped on it first, easy as walking down a sidewalk. When he looked back and saw my expression, he stuck a hand out, the other balancing the cooler, like he always carried one on his shoulder, like a parrot.
“Ye’re all right, love. If ye think I’ll let anythin’ happen to ye, ye’re wrong.”
Taking his hand was the easy part. Taking a step? Not so much. The plank bobbed slightly when I finally got on, and every nerve in my body screamedrun!But that would mean showing my new friends what a wuss I was, and the whole goal of the day was to pretend I wasn’t. To impress Jacob. To prove I could survive in his world, if only for nine more days.
