wind.
Chang shook his head. "This is a typhoon," he said. "Go below."
Half falling, half staggering, Bethany groped her way back to her cabin. The door slammed behind her as she zigzagged to the bed. It seemed impossible that the cruiser could withstand the force of the storm. She'd seen the high waves, the deep troughs of gray water lashing over the decks as the Dragon plunged down, hesitated for a heart-stopping moment, then roller-coastered back up. She'd almost forgotten about the boat that Chang said might be following them. That seemed of little importance now. All that mattered was making it safely through the storm.
Hours passed. Bethany sat up in bed, her back braced against the bulkhead. Too frightened to be seasick, all she could do was hang on and pray that the Dragon would weather the storm. By late afternoon she couldn't stand the solitude any longer. She put on a sweater, covered her hair with a scarf, and fought her way to the galley. Lee Tung, his round face wrinkled in a worried frown, short legs hooked around the rungs of a fastened-down chair, looked up. "You hungry, missy?" he asked.
Bethany shook her head. "But I'd like a cup of coffee."
"There is a fresh pot in the oven." Seeing her puzzled frown he said, "It would not stay on top of stove so I put it in the oven."
Bethany braced herself against the wall as she opened the oven door. She looked at the stove, not sure how to light it. With a sigh Lee Tung unwrapped his feet and lunged for the stove. Quickly he lit it, then angled back to his chair.
When the coffee was hot Bethany poured a cup for herself. Then she looked inside the refrigerator and finding wrapped ham and cheese, took them out and made six fat sandwiches. She filled a thermos with coffee, and added a good-sized dollop of brandy, then put everything into a canvas bag she found under the counter. Putting the bag over her shoulder and taking a deep breath she bade goodbye to the frightened cook and aimed for the door.
The force of the wind was even stronger now. It flung the door out of Bethany's hand and threw her back against the boat. Quickly she grabbed a safety line. She managed to close the door, then began her slow struggle toward the wheelhouse. Waves lashed over the Dragon's bow. Rain blinded her and her hand tightened on the line.
As she grew closer the door of the wheelhouse was flung open and Tiger pulled her inside.
"You were told to stay in your stateroom," he said. He looked tired. His face was drawn and grim.
"I couldn't stand it in there another minute. Besides you had to have something to eat, and from the look of Lee Tung I doubt that he's fixed anything for you."
"Lee does not like storms," Chang said from the helm. "Each time we go through one he vows he will never set foot on a ship again."
"I made some sandwiches," Bethany said. "You've got to eat something."
Tiger looked at her approvingly. "You're wet," he said. He helped her remove the sweater and handed her a towel and a windbreaker. "Dry off, then put this jacket on." To Chang he said, "I'll take the wheel now; you have a sandwich and a cup of coffee."
"No, you eat first. I will stay until you finish."
Tiger took Bethany's arm, and bracing himself, led her to the curved seat at the side of the wheelhouse. When she handed him a sandwich he took a bite and said, "I didn't realize how hungry I was." He looked at her. "Are you all right? I was afraid you would be sick."
"I was much too frightened to be sick," she said with a smile.
"Was? Does that mean you are no longer afraid?"
"Not here with you, Tiger." Bethany touched his hand. "You look so tired."
He ran a hand across his face. "I am, and so is Chang. After he eats I'll make him go and rest." He took another bite of the sandwich. "As soon as we left the island I used the radio. What we are in now is the tag end of a typhoon by the name of Angelica." His li ps quirked. "But Angelica is no angel. This is one of the worst storms I've ever been in.
Chang shook his head. "This is a typhoon," he said. "Go below."
Half falling, half staggering, Bethany groped her way back to her cabin. The door slammed behind her as she zigzagged to the bed. It seemed impossible that the cruiser could withstand the force of the storm. She'd seen the high waves, the deep troughs of gray water lashing over the decks as the Dragon plunged down, hesitated for a heart-stopping moment, then roller-coastered back up. She'd almost forgotten about the boat that Chang said might be following them. That seemed of little importance now. All that mattered was making it safely through the storm.
Hours passed. Bethany sat up in bed, her back braced against the bulkhead. Too frightened to be seasick, all she could do was hang on and pray that the Dragon would weather the storm. By late afternoon she couldn't stand the solitude any longer. She put on a sweater, covered her hair with a scarf, and fought her way to the galley. Lee Tung, his round face wrinkled in a worried frown, short legs hooked around the rungs of a fastened-down chair, looked up. "You hungry, missy?" he asked.
Bethany shook her head. "But I'd like a cup of coffee."
"There is a fresh pot in the oven." Seeing her puzzled frown he said, "It would not stay on top of stove so I put it in the oven."
Bethany braced herself against the wall as she opened the oven door. She looked at the stove, not sure how to light it. With a sigh Lee Tung unwrapped his feet and lunged for the stove. Quickly he lit it, then angled back to his chair.
When the coffee was hot Bethany poured a cup for herself. Then she looked inside the refrigerator and finding wrapped ham and cheese, took them out and made six fat sandwiches. She filled a thermos with coffee, and added a good-sized dollop of brandy, then put everything into a canvas bag she found under the counter. Putting the bag over her shoulder and taking a deep breath she bade goodbye to the frightened cook and aimed for the door.
The force of the wind was even stronger now. It flung the door out of Bethany's hand and threw her back against the boat. Quickly she grabbed a safety line. She managed to close the door, then began her slow struggle toward the wheelhouse. Waves lashed over the Dragon's bow. Rain blinded her and her hand tightened on the line.
As she grew closer the door of the wheelhouse was flung open and Tiger pulled her inside.
"You were told to stay in your stateroom," he said. He looked tired. His face was drawn and grim.
"I couldn't stand it in there another minute. Besides you had to have something to eat, and from the look of Lee Tung I doubt that he's fixed anything for you."
"Lee does not like storms," Chang said from the helm. "Each time we go through one he vows he will never set foot on a ship again."
"I made some sandwiches," Bethany said. "You've got to eat something."
Tiger looked at her approvingly. "You're wet," he said. He helped her remove the sweater and handed her a towel and a windbreaker. "Dry off, then put this jacket on." To Chang he said, "I'll take the wheel now; you have a sandwich and a cup of coffee."
"No, you eat first. I will stay until you finish."
Tiger took Bethany's arm, and bracing himself, led her to the curved seat at the side of the wheelhouse. When she handed him a sandwich he took a bite and said, "I didn't realize how hungry I was." He looked at her. "Are you all right? I was afraid you would be sick."
"I was much too frightened to be sick," she said with a smile.
"Was? Does that mean you are no longer afraid?"
"Not here with you, Tiger." Bethany touched his hand. "You look so tired."
He ran a hand across his face. "I am, and so is Chang. After he eats I'll make him go and rest." He took another bite of the sandwich. "As soon as we left the island I used the radio. What we are in now is the tag end of a typhoon by the name of Angelica." His li ps quirked. "But Angelica is no angel. This is one of the worst storms I've ever been in.
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