The Queen's Lady. Shannon Drake
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Maybe it would turn out to be a good weekend, after all, Charlie thought.
“We’re going to stop right about here,” he told Nathan, pointing to a hook in the river. “As soon as you’ve put away the groceries, I’ll give you a lesson in navigation, all right?”
Again the shoulders shifted, but the hostility was gone from the teenager’s face. “Can I use the bathroom, or do I have to wait until the engine’s running?”
“No, go ahead. Flush away,” Charlie told him, indicating the door to the head. While Nathan was inside, Charlie checked the fuel gauge and water supply.
He was on his knees connecting a wire that had come loose on the control panel when he heard Nathan say, “Your girlfriend left something in the bathroom.”
Charlie straightened. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” From the silly smile on Nathan’s face, he knew that it was something the teen found amusing.
He went to see for himself. A bright red bra hung on the doorknob. The first thought that crossed Charlie’s mind was that Mitch Sterling had had a woman onboard when he’d used the boat last week.
“Well, that sly old…” he began, then noticed Nathan’s rapt attention. “Must be from a previous guest,” Charlie said, snatching the bra from the doorknob and shoving it into the vanity drawer. “Follow me.”
He opened the door to the master bedroom and tossed his duffel bag onto the bed. “I’ll sleep here.”
“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.