Page 55 of Colton's Secret Weapon
Her long hair flowing like gentle flames all over her.
His cousin Kansas had hair as long as Dove’s. But she kept it tied back most of the time. Dove didn’t restrict her locks.
Mitchell liked that about her.
Giving himself a serious shake, he headed out to the docks with purposeful strides, getting himself back to the mindset he’d slipped into the second he walked into his office that morning. His natural self.
Not the mucked-up version that time spent in Dove St. James’s company seemed to be bringing out in him.
He’d taken half a dozen steps before he started to run.What the hell…
Ladybirdwasn’t in her usual slip. Jumping into Bob’s runabout, he grabbed the keys from the slot in the bottom of the seat where Dove had told him her father kept them and was on the water within a minute. And had Wes and then Kirk on the phone—together, a conference call if ever there was one—seconds later. Both men swore the boat was moored as usual before they left the dock.
WhileLadybirdwasn’t their most expensive boat, she was one of their highest earners with tourists because of how easy she was to take out—even on the sea. And because of the larger number of passengers she could carry.
“I check every single boat myself,” Wes said. “Have been doing so since Oscar left. Whaler don’t need any more problems.”
“I, uh…” Kirk started and then stopped. And Mitchell’s heart sank, even as his gaze remained focused intently on every inch of shoreline he was slowly cruising.
“You what?” he asked his buddy’s son, knowing without doubt that if he’d made a mistake in recommending Kirk, he’d do what he had to do to make things right.
“I checked them after Wes did,” he said. “My dad taught me to use a double bowline, and… I did.” The young man paused and then said, “No offense to you, Wes, I just—”
“No offense taken, kid,” Wes cut in. “Double bowline it’ll be from now on.”
Which was fine, except it didn’t help him whereLadybirdwas concerned.
“I’m on my way,” Wes continued. “About five minutes out.”
“I’m seven,” Kirk piped in.
The three of them talked about shoreline coordinates and divvying up areas, but Mitchell cut the conversation short. “I’ve got her,” he said. “She’s bobbing in the water twenty-five yards out from Bone’s Cove.”
An inlet that local fishermen had unofficially named.
Both men met him there, in one boat, with Wes jumping aboardLadybirdto drive her back to shore.
All three checked her over. Found nothing damaged.
Except the mooring rope.
It was missing altogether.
“It’s my mother’s boat. And one of our highest, most consistent earners.” Dove paced Mitchell’s kitchen floor, needing to expend the negative energy that had been building within her all day.
He’d waited until they’d arrived back at his place to tell her about the mishap at the marina. Whether he’d purposely made the choice because he’d known that the tension the news would have brought in Whaler’s presence could mean the difference between her father choosing to come back to them or not, she didn’t know.
Didn’t really care. He’d been led, whether he got it or not.
Believing that gave her the strength she needed to keep looking forward. When all she wanted to do was crawl in a hole, cover her head and wait for the storm to pass.
She wasn’t alone. She had her spirits, angels around her and souls up in heaven guiding her. And on earth, she’d been led to a man she’d never in a million years have sought out herself. Just as she knew, without a doubt, he’d never have initiated contact with her.
Her job was to trust. To keep her mind and heart focused and healthy. And to live by the inner promptings that, as long as she was in a good place, would never lead her wrong.
Engulfed in a myriad of emotions that swirled around her in a pool of anxiety, she had no promptings. Just the solid floor beneath her feet. And awareness of the man who leaned against the counter, silently watching her march to no drumbeat at all.
She glanced at him as she passed by. “If you hadn’t stopped by after business hours…”
