In Hot Pursuit (11 page)

***

Guiding the
Isadora
out of the marina, they cruised
through Port Townsend Bay and headed into the choppy waters of Admiralty Inlet.
Making twelve knots, Will guided yacht into the Strait of Juan de Fuca and
headed north, cutting through wind-whipped peaks that crested on a base of long
ocean swells. After a while, Nellie climbed the ladder from the salon to the
wheelhouse, reaching out to brace herself against the chart table as the
Isadora
pitched up through the crest of
a swell and slid down into the trough between massive ridges of moving water.

Will glanced
over at her. "What's Mike doing?" he asked from his stance at the
helm.

"He's in
his bunk playing solitaire," Nellie replied. "But he looked pretty
drowsy the last I saw of him, so I suspect he's probably napping."

Will checked
the compass heading and gave the wheel several turns. "He won't be napping
much longer," he said. "We'll be heading abeam these swells before
long and it's likely to get pretty rough."

For a while,
neither spoke. Nellie stood at the starboard window, watching blue-green waves splash
up from the bow and shower white spume over the fo'c'sle, while Will held the
wheel with one hand, and turned to locate their position on the charts with the
other. A wave slapped the bulwarks and slipped through the scuppers, spewing
foam against the kayak and spray through a partially opened window of the
wheelhouse. Nellie pulled the window shut and brushed droplets of water off her
jacket.

Will reached
over and clicked on the radar unit beside Nellie, then glanced at her, and
said, "I'm sorry about keeping Mike's threat from you. But you also didn't
tell me you'd been followed by someone in a stolen car. That came as a hell of
a surprise."

"I didn't
think you'd take us along if you knew," Nellie said.

"You could
have at least given me that choice," Will replied.

Nellie looked
at Will's sober face. This wasn't the way she'd expected the trip to start out.
Three days before, Will would have been joking with her, or stealing a kiss.
Now, he was keeping his distance, and she felt a hollowness she knew would be
there until he held her in his arms again, which wouldn't happen unless she
went to him, without conditions. Something she refused to do.

She looked
through one of the large wheelhouse viewing windows at the dark clouds skating
overhead and blinked several times, trying to hold back unexpected tears and
keep them from emerging. She had no idea why she was feeling weepy, other than
this was the culmination of two weeks of working on the boat in preparation for
cruising on it once again, and with a man who had, for the first time since she
lost Richard, allowed her to believe life could be good once more. Then
everything began to unravel. She swiped a finger beneath each eye.

"Come
here," Will said, reaching out and pulling her toward him.

Nellie moved to
stand in the curve of Will's arm while he steered with one hand. "I'm
sorry about being so emotional and taking it out on you," she said,
"but you can't imagine what it's like to think your child's in
danger." She knew the tears were not because of Mike, but rather from the
relief she felt on being held again. She snuggled against Will, breathing in
the blend of damp jacket and spicy after-shave.

"You feel
good against me," Will said. "I missed what we had."

"I missed
it too," Nellie replied, "
but
I'm very
confused right now."

"About
what? Your feelings for me, or letting things happen?"

"Both,"
Nellie replied. "I was a virgin on my wedding night and I never regretted
it for a moment, even though it was challenging for us right up to the day of
our wedding. But it was worth it because our sex life was special to us."

"So, you
won't even consider an intimate relationship with me." It was a statement.

"I don’t
know what I’m willing to consider right now," Nellie said. "I’m
lonely for what I once had with Richard, but that's not reason enough to
compromise my values."

"You don't
have to be lonely," Will said, his hand moving idly up and down her side.
"I can fill that void in your life. And when we make love, it won't be a
quick roll around the bunk. It will be all about taking lots of time and giving
you everything you need."

Nellie looked
up at him. "What about your needs?"

Will smiled.
"My needs are pretty singular. This is about you."

"Still, it
wouldn’t be out of love that we'd be making love because that takes time,"
Nellie insisted, "so when all's said and done, we’d be having sex, not
making love. There’s a soul-connected difference between the two. Marriage
connects more than just bodies. It connects souls. When I make love again, I
want to be joined body and soul."

A loud thump
resounded off the starboard bow, reverberating through the hull. Will snatched
his arm from around her and throttled down the engine, letting the boat drift.
He moved to look out the window. "That was a drift log," he said, as they
cruised past it. "You'd better help me watch for them, especially
deadheads." He handed Nellie a pair of binoculars.

Nellie
struggled to collect herself, her heart still thumping heavily in response to
what had been taking place before the thump against the hull. Taking the
binoculars, she scanned the rakes of green waves while watching for swamped
logs. "Are you sure we'll be able to spot them in this choppy water?"
she asked.

"They're
not too hard to see," Will replied. "Just keep watching for the butt
end of logs." He pressed a switch on the engine control panel, activating
the bilge pump. Soon the sound of air sucking into the intake could be heard.

As Nellie
peered through the binoculars, her mind was not on drift logs. All she could
think of was how much she wanted what Will was offering. An almost overwhelming
urge reminded her of a very potent need...

"
Mom!
" Mike yelled from below.
"Zeke scratched Katy on the nose and it's bleeding." A series of
barks ended in a high-pitched yelp as something crashed in the galley.
"Now Zeke knocked over the stack of pots in the corner," Mike added.

Nellie set the
binoculars down. "I'd better close Katy in my stateroom," she said to
Will, "at least until we're in calmer waters." When she saw Mike, she
noted at once how pale he was. "Don't you feel well, honey?" she
asked.

Mike shrugged.
"My stomach feels kind of funny."

"Then go
up to the wheelhouse where it's cool and you'll feel better," Nellie said.

Mike didn't
argue, just slowly plodded up the ladder to the wheelhouse, where he stood at
the starboard window, ignoring Will.

Will checked
his compass heading and turned the wheel several times. Hearing a thud against
the bow, he cut the engine, and a log bumped and scraped alongside the boat.
Reaching for the binoculars, he handed them to Mike, and said, "I need you
to watch for drift logs."

Mike glared at
him. "You can't tell me what to do. You're not my father."

"Oh, that
excuse again." Will refused to let a pint-sized adversary intimidate him.
"I'm not your father," he said, "but I am captain of this vessel
and you're crew." He continued to hold out the binoculars.

Mike made no
move to take them, and instead, raised his chin in defiance. "I don't want
to look for logs, especially not for you," he clipped.

Will recognized
a standoff when he saw one. He’d been a master at it when he was Mike’s age.
Holding Mike’s gaze, he said, "I don’t much give a rat’s behind whether
you want to do it or not. If we hit a deadhead we'll have a hole in the hull
the size of a tree trunk and what you feel about me won't matter because this
boat will go down and we'll all go down with her. Now take these glasses and
start watching."

Mike
reluctantly took the glasses.

"A
deadhead's a saturated log that's floating straight up in the water," Will
explained, figuring Mike had no idea what he was looking for. "All you'll
see is the
log
end, which looks like a barrel or an
oil drum that's barely sticking out of the water. So you have to watch
carefully. If you see one, point it out fast so we can steer clear of it."

Mike didn't
respond as he continued to study the water through the glasses. For a while he
was quiet, but then there was a flurry of excitement when he spotted his first
dead head. "Over there," he said in an excited voice, while pointing.

"Man,
you've got eagle eyes," Will commended then took a little time to explain
about the radar. Although Mike said nothing, Will knew, from the intent look in
Mike's eyes, that he was taking it all in. After a while, Mike handed Will the
binoculars and said, "Can I go now?"

"Sure,"
Will replied, "but you'd better send your mother up." As Mike turned
to go, Will said, "By the way, you're a good spotter. I never would have
seen those logs. Later I'll give you a chance at the wheel. You have the makings
of a top first mate." Although Mike didn't respond, Will caught the slight
curve to the boy’s lips and felt they'd made a connection, tenuous and
short-lived though it would be.

Mike left the
wheelhouse, and a few minutes later, Nellie took his place. Raising the
binoculars to her eyes, she said, while looking for deadheads, "I think
you made some headway with Mike. He seemed pretty excited about the prospect of
taking a turn at the wheel. He also mentioned that you said he had the makings
of a top first mate."

"He does.
He's pretty quick to learn," Will said. "He needs to get his sea legs
though. I think he was a little seasick when he first came up."

"He
was," Nellie replied. "He'll probably be back up here tomorrow. He's
too proud to wear a patch behind his ear, so the next best thing is to stay in
the wheelhouse where he won't get sick
..
Maybe it's a
blessing in disguise. It'll give you two a chance to get to know each other,
which is a good thing. Mike needs someone to look up to. A father figure."

Eyes straight
ahead, Will replied, "As long as Mike doesn't view me as that." He'd
lost count of how many father figures he'd had by the time he was Mike's age.
Looking back, he remembered how pointless it was to form relationships with any
of them. They were nothing more than transitory links between home... and
home...

He could feel
Nellie's eyes boring into him as she said, "Can we talk about it?"

"No,"
Will replied. "There's no place in my life for Mike or any other kid. I'll
do my best to teach him how to read radar and follow charts, and even how to
navigate a boat, but that's where it ends. I just want to be clear on
that." When Nellie said nothing, Will was tempted to retract his words, if
only to hold onto the promise of what they could have together. But the fact
was, he wasn't someone Mike or any other kid should look up to. He was a loner,
had been since he was sixteen, and he wasn't heading down that dead end path,
even if it meant an end to what he could have with Nellie. She deserved better.

***

That evening
they dropped anchor in a quiet cove off the east coast of Vancouver Island and
had a light dinner of prepared crab cakes, which were heated in the microwave,
accompanied by stove-top scalloped potatoes from a box. Mike, exhausted from
his first day of bracing his legs against a rocking boat, went to bed early.
The wind had driven off the clouds and the sky was clear, so Nellie went to
join Will on deck. Once away from Port Townsend, she'd given little thought to
the two men they'd left behind. For now, she felt safe with Will in that sense,
but more than apprehensive about where their relationship was headed... if
there was even a chance for a relationship now. But maybe it wasn't the
marriage commitment Will was avoiding, but the fact that Mike was part of the
package. Not just Mike. Mike
or any other
kid
, he'd said. And she wanted to know why. But she refused to spoil a
star-filled night on deck with Will, addressing his hang up about children. She
found him sitting on a rolled-out sleeping bag on the fantail deck, gazing
across the water. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.

Will moved
over, and said, "I was hoping you would."

Nellie sat
beside him. Drawing her legs up, she wrapped her arms around her knees so she
wouldn't be tempted to reach out to him. All afternoon she again toyed with the
idea of entering into a relationship that would include intimacy without
commitment, but in the end, she still wanted it all. Love, intimacy,
commitment, and a father for Mike. A family joined by marriage. And all Will
wanted was intimacy. Attempting to dismiss that worrisome thought, she looked
across the water, and said, "When I was a child, I'd sit on deck in this
very spot while Uncle Vern pointed out the constellations." Her gaze
followed the faint band of light of the Milky Way as it arched across the sky,
then darted from one bright star of the Summer Triangle to the next. "
Deneb
... Vega... Altair." She laughed spontaneously.
"I'm surprised I remember the names."

"It's also
called the Navigator's Triangle," Will added, "the first stars of
evening, so bright the navigator can get a fix on them while there's still
enough light to see the horizon."

"Look
there! Draco the Dragon," Nellie pointed to the stars curving around the
Little Dipper like a big question mark. "Draco guards the Golden Apples.
He lives in a beautiful garden beyond the mountains on which Atlas
stands,
and a band of nymphs dance around him, singing
entrancing songs to keep him awake. See his eyes sparkling as they
dance..." She continued with her tale, at last ending with, "...but
slow-witted Atlas resumed his burden, and Hercules returned with the Golden
Apples." She waited for Will's response. When he said nothing, she asked,
"So what did you think?"