“It would go faster,” Evan added, “if ye lent a hand.”
“Me? Help with the boat? How?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just keep the sail trimmed, haul a rope when I tell ye, mind the tiller if I step aside. Even ye should be able to manage it.”
She opened her mouth to snap back at his sarcasm but thought better of it, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Fine.”
With stiff movements she rose and crossed the narrow space to his side. At first it was awkward. The ropes scratched ather palms, the sail tugged and fought her grip, and she flushed with embarrassment when she fumbled. But Evan’s voice came steady and calm, giving quiet directions, correcting her hands, showing her how to feel the pull of the wind.
To her surprise, he was patient. Not the mocking arrogance she expected, but easy-going, encouraging even. His hand brushed hers once as he guided her fingers on a knot, his warmth startling her, and she quickly pulled away.
Bit by bit, though, the rhythm of it drew her in. The boat responded under her hands, the sail catching, the water hissing along the hull. Ruby lost herself in the work, in the simple task of keeping the boat steady on its course. She even almost smiled. Hours slipped by without her noticing, the sun slanting lower across the waves.
Then Evan’s voice cut through the wind. “There.” He lifted his chin.
Ruby followed his gesture and spotted a settlement, larger than any she’d seen so far, huddled at the edge of a sheltered bay, smoke rising from its chimneys, fishing boats bobbing near the shore.
“We’ll put in there for the night,” he announced.
Ruby’s brief peace shattered, replaced with fresh unease. Another strange place. Another night far from safety. She gripped the rope tighter, trying not to let him see her nerves.
Oh, Charlie, she thought.You won’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into this time.
