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Bash rubbed her upper arm. “You’re crashing. Let me take over for you. Go below and change,” he said, reaching for the steering wheel while she slid off the seat.
Grabbing her backpack, she opened the hatch to descend to the lower deck. Her fingers shook so badly she could barely get the zipper open. The sweatshirt and jeans were crammed on the top with her shoes. After removing her wet underclothes, she quickly redressed and then sat down on a cushioned bench to catch her breath.
The cabin was luxurious. Everything was lacquered white ash, baby blue, butter-soft leather, and stainless steel. The kitchen had every appliance you would need, and the cabinets were fully stocked with food. She chuckled to herself when she found a tin of caviar in the small refrigerator. To her dismay, there were no bags of potato chips. If Bash required future rescue missions, she was going to insist on a full supply.
The instructions to convert the table into a double bed lay on the counter, along with a map of where the blankets, linens, and towels were stored.
As Morgan explored the wine rack, the sudden jolt from a drastic reduction in speed had her clutching the sink to keep from flying across the galley. It occurred to her that Bash might not be experienced at piloting a boat this size. That thought sent her scurrying back up the stairs.
“There you are,” he said, when she poked her head out. “I was worried I was going to end up in Tennessee before you came back up. Thinking about tooling along out here in the dark without being able to see shit didn’t seem like the safest plan. If you know a place we can pull over and not get run over by a barge, that would be awesome. We can regroup in the morning.”
“Did you think to grab those maps you told me about earlier?” she asked.
“I was planning to pick them up on our way out, but under the circumstances, it didn’t seem prudent. They are sitting on a lounger on the back deck. If our new friends find them, they will have a guide to navigating the waters and a better chance of finding us. They might also have found the keys to that second boat you told me about.”
“We’re all good on that front. There was no second boat. Seems this baby barely fit in the boathouse by itself,” she said, patting the dashboard. “The other boat must be docked at one of the marinas.”
With the cruiser on idle, he stood up and surveyed their surroundings. “I can see the lights on a bridge up ahead, and I’m assuming the massive glow to the left is the city of Guntersville. With that in mind, any ideas of where we might anchor for the night?”
She extended her hand. “That must be Highway 431, and Marshal County Park is on the right. Go under the bridge, and we’ll look for a place to drop anchor. Watch out for buoys. We don’t want to tear a hole in the bottom. If we’re lucky, the water patrol won’t make us move, but it’s probably too late for anyone to bother with us.”
With the boat secure, they moved below deck. Morgan gave him a mini tour. It didn’t take long for Bash to assemble the bed. She mentally fretted over sharing the bed, but they were both exhausted, so she didn’t have the heart to insist he sleep in a chair. It was resolved without issue when Bash found a blow-up mattress with a battery pump. It fit comfortably on the floor, and Bash chivalrously settled in.
She had barely gotten under the covers when she heard his soft breathing. For some reason, the steady rhythm of his breath gave her a sense of comfort, and before she knew it, she was out.
The next morning, Morgan awoke to a gentle rocking and steady hum of an engine. Her head was in a fog, and she couldn’t immediately decipher where she was. Her eyelids were so heavy she thought she might need a crowbar to pry them open, but the smell of coffee wafting through the cabin perked her right up.
“Good morning,” she yawned.
“I sure hope so. Though I do have some news you might find disappointing,” he said.
She swung her head in the direction of his voice, expecting the worst. He stood over the stove with a spatula in his hand.
His face mocked regret. “Alas, there are no potato chips of any kind in the pantry, so you’re going to have to make do with plain eggs, turkey bacon, and toast this morning. On the upside, there is caviar.”
She burst out laughing. “Oh, my Goodness! I don’t eat potato chips for breakfast. And I already discovered the no potato chip thing last night.”
“Good to know. Just trying to be a good host,” he said lightheartedly.
She wiped her eyes. “What time is it?”
“7:30. Coffee? Tea? We have both.”
“Coffee,” she said, savoring the smell. He handed her a mug. “May I have some cream and sugar?”
“Already in it. Took a wild guess. Well, not so wild. Few women I know drink their coffee black.”
She decided to overlook the sexist remark.
“I’ve been up since 6 a.m. I wanted to scope out our surroundings in the daylight. My paranoia of being in the path of a barge got the better of me. According to the internet, thousands of barges send millions of tons of cargo down the Tennessee River. I didn’t want us to end up kicking our feet behind one.”
She giggled. “We usually stay on the lake and out of the commercial traffic lanes on the river.”
“If you can muster enough energy to get out of bed, I’ll put the table back together so we can eat breakfast and figure out where to go from here.”
Chapter Ten
The sunshine and bright azure sky were a welcome sight that helped wash away some of the anxiety from the previous evening. So much had happened in less than 24 hours. There was no way they could go back to the lake house. Her vacation certainly hadn’t turned out as she had expected.
