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“Where do I sleep?” Nathan asked.
“You have two options. One is the cuddy below. There are two beds down there. It’s private, though a little cramped. The other is to use the sofa bed.”
Nathan looked at the white leather sofa. “You mean it’s one of those you pull out and have to make every night?”
Charlie nodded. “You’d probably be more comfortable below.” Nathan glanced down the stairway. “It is rather dark down there. The windows are more like portholes.”
He could see the boy considering the possibilities—downstairs in the cuddy with little natural light, or on a sofa in the salon with a big-screen TV. He had no doubt that the teenager would opt for the sofa. That way he could watch television as he lay in bed.
“I’ll sleep up here,” he said sullenly, as if it was a sacrifice to sleep on a sofa bed.
“All right. That’s fine with me. Now get that food in the refrigerator and I’ll prepare us for departure. We need to disconnect the shore cable and switch over to the generator before we leave.”
Nathan shoved cans into the cupboard, acting as if putting away the groceries was some sort of penance. Charlie left him alone and went off to tend to the tasks that needed to be done before launching the boat.
A short while later he announced, “We’re ready. We can either navigate from in here or go up to the flybridge. What do you think?”
Nathan shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Then we’ll go up to the flybridge.” Charlie headed for the steps leading to the upper portion of the houseboat. Nathan followed.
Once on top, Charlie stood behind the control panel. “We’ll crank this baby’s engine and get moving.” He turned the key in the ignition, producing a low hum.
“It’s pretty quiet, isn’t it?” Nathan said as the engine sprang to life.
“She purrs like a kitten,” Charlie agreed. “You ready?” Nathan nodded and Charlie slowly maneuvered the boat away from the dock.
The sky had become a vivid pink, thanks to the dawn’s paintbrush. “See what I mean about the sunrise?” Charlie commented as the sky’s resplendent colors reflected on the river’s surface.
“It’s kinda spooky. It’s almost like the air is painted pink,” Nathan said, losing his insolence long enough to be a bit awed by nature.
Charlie understood his sentiment. “When I’m in a boat this time of morning, I feel a little bit like I’m on a mystical journey. Better enjoy the show before it disappears. It’s already starting to fade.”
“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat?”
Charlie smiled. Beneath the streaked blue hair and nose ring lurked a regular kid. “As soon as we get to our fishing spot, we’ll anchor and I’ll cook us some breakfast. Until then, why don’t you go down and get yourself a doughnut and a glass of milk?”
“I’d rather have a soda and some chips.”
“Whatever,” Charlie mumbled, and watched the boy disappear into the cabin. His last thought as the blue head bobbed out of sight was that it was going to be a long six weeks. A very long six weeks.
BETH WASN’T SURE what woke her. Maybe it was the sound of a motor humming in the background. One of the neighbors mowing the lawn perhaps. As she opened her eyes, however, she realized that she wasn’t in her own bed or even in one of her brother’s. She was on the houseboat. Her houseboat.
And it was swaying ever so slightly, something her brother had told her wouldn’t happen. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing ever so carefully, worried that she might experience a bit of motion sickness. To her relief she didn’t.
Thinking the wind must be responsible for the slight sway of the boat, she reached for the curtain behind the bed and pulled it aside to look out the rectangular porthole. To her surprise, there was a rather large expanse of river between her and the shore. She padded across the room to the opposite side of the boat and lifted the curtain on the other narrow window.
A gasp escaped her as she realized that the boat was no longer at the pier. Had the wind become so strong that it had broken loose from its moorings? Suddenly her brain put two and two together. The hum of an engine, no pier in sight. The boat was moving!
Her heart beating rapidly, she scrambled up the steps to the salon. Seated on the white leather sofa with the TV remote in his hand was a teenage boy. He wore baggy carpenter jeans and his shirt was open, revealing an expanse of flesh. He was at the gawky stage—caught somewhere between man and child—with long, lanky limbs and an awkwardness only time would eliminate.
“Who are you and why is this boat moving?” Beth demanded.
He looked as surprised by her appearance as she was by his. “I’m Nathan. What are you doing on my dad’s boat?”
His dad’s boat? “This is not your father’s boat. It’s my boat and I don’t know what makes you think you can just take off with it.”
“We didn’t know you were on it,” he said weakly, then, gaining his courage, added, “You shouldn’t be on it. It belongs to my dad.”
Fear caused Beth’s skin to prickle. “I’m going to get my cell phone and call the police. You just can’t get on someone else’s houseboat and take it for a ride.” She was about to head back down to the cuddy when she heard a man’s voice.
“Nathan, I could use your help. Come on out here.”
The voice was vaguely familiar. Beth’s stomach plunged. “What’s your father’s name?”
Before the boy could answer, the man called out, “Nathan! Did you hear me? Get out here. Now!”
When the boy would have moved, Beth raised a hand and used her schoolteacher voice to say, “You stay right here and answer my question. What is your father’s name?”
“You’re going to be in big trouble, lady, when my dad finds out you stowed away on his boat,” the teenager said, getting bolder by the minute. “This is private property and…” He stopped, his eyes on the sliding door behind her.
By now Beth’s heart was in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty, then turned to see a man step into the cabin. He was big, brawny and bare-chested. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and his jaw was un-shaven.
Beth didn’t need the boy to tell her his father’s name. It was Charlie Callahan, her ex-husband, looking lean, tanned and even more attractive than he had fifteen years ago.
She had often thought about what they would say to each other when they did finally meet again. Now she knew. There was no, “Hello, Beth, how are you?” No, “It’s good to see you.”
The first words out of Charlie’s mouth were angrily uttered. “What the hell are you doing here?”
CHAPTER THREE
CHARLIE HAD EXPECTED the day would come when he’d meet Beth again. What he hadn’t foreseen was the turmoil of emotion it would create in him. Seeing her standing in front of him, looking as if she’d just crawled out of bed, made him feel as if someone had given him a stiff punch to the gut.
She looked as shocked to see him as he was to see her. Folding her arms across her chest, she demanded, “What do you mean, what am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
Before Charlie could answer her question, Nathan stepped forward. “I tried to tell her it’s your boat, Dad, but she wouldn’t listen. She must have stowed away in the cuddy.”
Charlie didn’t miss the fact that he had once more become “Dad” to the teenager. Or that Nathan showed signs of a vivid imagination. He was looking at Beth as if she could be someone on the run.
“I’m not a stowaway. This happens to be my boat,” Beth stated in a tone that left no doubt that she didn’t appreciate Nathan’s implication that she’d done something illegal.
Nathan looked at Charlie. “Her boat? I thought you said this was your boat.”
“It is—at least, half of it is. The other half is Beth’s. Nathan, this is Beth. Beth, Nathan.” He made the introduction as brief as possible, hoping to avoid the questions that would result if Nathan learned Beth was his ex-wife.
He’d never told the teenager he’d been married. There’d never been any reason to, and until just a few moments ago, it had been a nonissue in his life. Four weeks of marriage hardly qualified as a treasured memory. His summer thing with Beth—which was how his buddies had referred to it—felt as if it had happened in another lifetime.
Only now he was reminded that it had happened. He watched Nathan extend his hand to her, revealing the manners Amy had instilled in him as a child. “How do you do.”
Beth took his hand cautiously, eyeing Charlie suspiciously as she returned Nathan’s greeting.
“You haven’t told me what you’re doing here,” Charlie said to her, trying not to notice that, instead of short curls, her dark hair now hung in long kinky waves that fell to her shoulders in a rather tantalizing way.
“Obviously the same thing you’re doing—using my property.”
He didn’t care for the tone of her voice. Or the fact that he was responding to her scantily clad body. She wore skimpy pajamas made to resemble a T-shirt and shorts—very short shorts. Although she was still slender, there were curves that hadn’t been there fifteen years ago. She’d filled out in all the right places, and Charlie had to force his eyes away from her figure to her face.
She moved over to the windows and asked, “Where’s the pier?”
“In Riverbend.”
“We’re moving?” She pressed a hand to her stomach.
“No, we’re anchored.”
“This boat is supposed to be docked at Riverbend. You had no right to take it—or me—anywhere,” she said haughtily.
“Do you honestly think I would have taken it anywhere if I’d known you were onboard?” he countered. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Ed’s place?”
“Because his guest room is occupied. Grace’s parents are here for the weekend.”
“So you came here to sleep?” he asked in disbelief.
“And why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“You’re not exactly crazy about the water.”
“It didn’t feel as if I was on the water when the boat was moored at the marina. Are you sure we’re anchored?” she asked, her hand flying to her midsection once more.
“We are.” She looked unusually pale, prompting Charlie to ask, “You’re not going to be sick, are you?”
“No, but I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.” She left in a hurry, slamming the door as she disappeared into the head.
“What’s she doing on a houseboat if she gets seasick?” Nathan asked.
“She said she wasn’t sick,” Charlie answered.
“She looked like she was gonna hurl.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charlie said, although he really wasn’t sure of anything concerning Beth at this point in his life. When several minutes had passed and she still hadn’t emerged from the head, he went over to the door and knocked. “Beth, are you okay in there?”
“Yes.” The response was muffled. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“For Pete’s sake, Charlie, I said yes, didn’t I?” she snapped.
Maybe she’d changed physically, but emotionally she was still the same old Beth, hating it whenever anyone showed concern for her. She still didn’t want to admit that she needed anybody.
When he returned to the salon, Nathan had flopped down onto the leather sofa, sprawling in the way only a teenager could. “Does this mean we’re going back to Riverbend?” His expression brightened.
“There are places between here and there where she could get off the boat,” Charlie answered, which caused the sullen look to return to Nathan’s face.
“Wait a minute. You’re not dumping me off like some unwanted cargo,” Beth said from behind him.
He turned and saw that she had come out of the bathroom. Her face was still pale, but she looked ready to do battle with him, hands on her hips, eyes flashing.
“I’m not going to dump you anywhere,” Charlie told her.
“No, you’re going to take me back to Riverbend.” It was more of a command than a statement of fact. “Ed’s expecting me to be at the marina, not in the middle of a cornfield.”
“I wouldn’t leave you in a cornfield. I just thought that if the motion of the boat makes you feel sick, you might want to get off upstream. I’m sure Ed wouldn’t mind if he had to drive a little farther to get you.”
“I told you I’m fine,” she insisted. “And you haven’t told me what you’re doing here. Ed said you were at some trade show this weekend.”
“My plans changed,” he said, avoiding Nathan’s eyes.
“So you decided to use the boat without asking me?”
“I don’t recall you asking me if you could spend the night onboard,” he retorted. Again the look on Nathan’s face reminded Charlie that he needed to be careful what he said. He didn’t want the fourteen year old to see him in a shouting match with his ex-wife.
“It’s obvious there’s been some miscommunication,” he said in a calmer voice, raking a hand across the back of his neck. “You thought I was out of town and I thought you were still in Iowa.”
That piqued Nathan’s curiosity. He got up from the sofa and went to stand beside Beth. “I’ve never met anybody from Iowa before. What do you do there?”
“She works,” Charlie answered for her, trying to preempt Nathan’s interest, then addressed Beth. “So we both had plans for the boat for the weekend. Now what?”
“Obviously one of us will have to find another place to sleep tonight.”
“Since Nathan and I want to go fishing, I’m willing to buy out your interest for tonight,” he proposed.
“Meaning what?”
“I’ll give you the money for a motel.”
He could see she wasn’t happy with his suggestion. Nor was Nathan, who said, “I don’t care if we don’t go fishing.”
“But I do,” Charlie told him, annoyed that the teen was willing to let Beth have the boat. Nathan was gazing at her as if she was an ally, not an intruder. Charlie looked Beth squarely in the eyes and said, “Since you’re only looking for a place to sleep and we want to use the boat for recreation, wouldn’t it make more sense for you to go to a motel?”
One thing Charlie knew about Beth was that she wasn’t obstinate. Some women might have refused to find another place to sleep out of sheer stubbornness. Not Beth. Decisions were made after careful consideration—a trait he’d admired in her.
That was why he wasn’t surprised when she said, “You can have the boat for the rest of the weekend, but I don’t want your money. I’ll find another place to stay without your help. Now, if you’ll take me back to Riverbend, I’ll get off this boat and you two can have it all to yourselves.”
Charlie had won, but there was no thrill in the victory. “I appreciate that,” he said. “We’ll leave right away.”
“Thank you.”
Unfortunately her gratitude was premature. When Charlie sat behind the controls and turned the key in the ignition, the engine wouldn’t start.
