Distracted by Madeline Sloane

gear and lines. You want to raise it?”
    “No. I’ll steer. Where are we going?”
    “See the compass? Its heading is 125. Just keep it on
this course. It will only take a few minutes and I’ll be right
back. Shout if you see any other boats that might cross our
course.”
    She slipped into the seat and rested her hands gently
on the large wheel. The helm was high and wide and fronted by dials
and computer screens filled with nautical charts. The stainless
steel throttle vibrated slightly. The compass swung in its
binnacle. The heading was southeast, she noted. There was very
little movement, the twin hulls keeping the boat stable.
    Erin took a deep breath and nodded. She felt a
flutter in the pit of her stomach and shoved at it. I am not
afraid, she admonished herself. It’s just like driving a car. A
really big car.
    Spence took off his shirt and tossed it in a corner
of the cockpit. He stepped nimbly onto the cabin roof and checked
the mast and boom. He pressed a button and the mainsail slowly
pulled out of the mast, sliding along the boom. Soon, the large,
white sail slapped resounding as it luffed in the wind.
    Erin kept her eyes fastened on the compass, trying
not to make jerky movements with the wheel.
    Spence checked all the sheets, making sure the cam
cleats were in working order. He neatly coiled the bow line that
Erin had left in a puddle. He pulled the large, cylindrical fenders
aboard and stowed them in a cavernous locker in the port hull. Then
he checked the windlass and anchor, making sure the rode was
secure.
    Satisfied with his brief inspection, he returned to
the cockpit and opened a cooler. He withdrew two sodas, popped the
tabs and handed one to Erin. She graciously thanked him and sipped
the cold beverage while keeping one hand on the wheel. Spence, his
head tossed back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, emptied the can in
several gulps then looked around.
    “I forgot to put a trash bag out here.” He lifted a
locker lid and tossed the can inside. “Remind me to clean that out,
would you?”
    Then he came behind Erin and draped an arm over her
shoulder. She flinched at the easy familiarity, and jumped from the
seat.
    “Okay, she’s all yours.”
    Spence grunted and easily slid behind the wheel. He
picked up the exterior VHF radio, adjusted the volume and clicked
the handle.
    “Suzy-Q, this is “Fusion. You there?” he spoke into
the microphone.
    A few seconds later, Suzy was on the air.
    “Yes, Fusion, I’m here. Switch to Channel 9;
over.”
    “Roger that. Moving to Channel 9.” Spence depressed a
button and the VHF switched channels. The he clicked the hand-held
microphone. “Suzy-Q, Fusion here. How about a radio check?
Over.”
    “Fusion, You’re loud and clear. How is she?
Over.”
    “She’s beautiful. The boat’s not bad either,” he
joked. “Tell Henry we’ve got plenty of propane. We’re leaving the
harbor now and heading for open water. Over.”
    “Not using the Intracostal Waterway, eh?”
    “Nah, we’ll make better time sliding down the
coastline. The weather forecast is great, so no worries. Can you
tell Mom I’ll call her later?”
    “Will do. Fair winds, Fusion. Suzy out,” she replied,
signing off.
    Checking the navigation system, Spence keyed through
the GPS, checking its readout. Then he pushed several buttons on
his chart plotter and loaded a map into the autopilot. He took a
few minutes to study the new chart and calculate the day’s
passage.
    Erin walked into the cabin, not wanting to sit and
stare at his broad, muscled back and shoulders. No, that’s not
right. She did want to stare; she just didn’t want him to know it.
She had a job to do, and this seemed her only option to get it
done. “I’m hungry. We missed lunch today. You mind if I find us
something to eat?”
    “That’s a great idea. You can be the chef on this
trip.”
    “Eh, Spence, that’s not a good idea. I’ll do what I
can, but I won’t make any promises. I don’t even know what