The instructions she gave all passengers with their reservation confirmation included a list of things they should bring with them, and that included seasick medicine, though she always kept some on hand. But she had to rummage around in a couple of cabinets before she found it.
She gave some to the green man, then headed back toward the bridge. She checked their position just before climbing the ladder.
Damn it, Cooper was heading straight for those rocks. She climbed as fast as she could, yelling as she did.
“Swing hard to port! You’re gonna-”
A loud thump cut her off. Oh, God. They’d hit something.
By the time she reached the bridge he’d swung left, and the boat was chugging away from the hazard.
He turned over the wheel with a murmured “Sorry.”
She resisted the urge to yell at him, because she’d done the same thing once when she was learning to pilot her father’s boat. They’d probably only bumped a rock.
Anyway, she was the captain. She was responsible for what happened on this boat.
“The currents are tricky here,” she explained. “And when the water’s rough, the Dragonfly doesn’t respond as quickly.”
Cooper said nothing, but she could tell he felt bad.
“You want to take her in?” she asked, because she knew exactly what he felt like. And she remembered that after she’d nearly wrecked the Ginnie, she’d been terrified to take the wheel again. But her father had explained that it was like riding a bicycle. If you didn’t get right back on after falling off, you might be scared of bikes the rest of your life.
“I’ll watch you take her in,” he said quietly. “Maybe I have more to learn than I thought.”
Well, would miracles never cease? The man who’d stormed her boat acting like he knew everything had just admitted he didn’t.
She ought to be glad he’d had a scare. Maybe he would realize running a charter service wasn’t all fun and games and change his mind about his new direction in life.
But that wouldn’t help, she realized. He would still try to take the Dragonfly away. Then he would sell her future to the highest bidder.
REECE WAS WAITING AT THE DOCK when they pulled in. Although the rain had come and gone, Cooper’s ever-prepared cousin had an umbrella in his hand.
Cooper had arranged for Reece to come on board and look over the books this evening, which was supposed to be Allie’s night off. He had promised to handle all the post-cruise business, and he would-as soon as his stomach unknotted.
He still couldn’t believe he’d hit a rock.
He’d been so sure he knew what he was doing, so intent on proving to Allie that he could do her job as well as she could. He’d figured that by the time the legal battle for the Dragonfly was over, he would have learned anything he needed to about running a charter service, and Allie Bateman would be evicted and on her way.
But clearly that wasn’t the case.
He wondered if he could hire Allie as his pilot. She would soon need a job. But he rejected that possibility, just as he’d done the first time it occurred to him. Once he wrested the boat away from her she wasn’t likely to want to work for him. In fact, she would probably go to work for one of the other charter businesses and do her damnedest to run him out of business.
“How’d it go?” Reece asked as Cooper secured the boat.
“Not so good,” he admitted.
He helped their passengers disembark and carried their cooler of fish as far as the dock. The men were in high spirits, even the one who’d been seasick. They promised Cooper and Allie they’d be back next year.
“It sounds like the customers had a good time,” Reece observed as he followed Cooper onto the boat. She was bobbing up and down so fiercely, they had to time their move just right to avoid falling in the water. “How did the beer thing work out?”
“The passengers seemed to like it.”
“Hello, Allie,” Reece said politely.
Allie was busy emptying the trash barrel, and she barely looked up. “Hello…Reece, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Let me help you with that. This was my job when I used to visit Uncle Johnny.”
“The only thing Johnny would trust him to do,” Cooper added.
“Oh…thank you.”
“Allie, this is your night off, remember?” Cooper said. “We’ll handle all the cleanup and restock provisions.” He would also have to take the boat to be refueled and to clean out the holding tank. He felt a little jittery at the idea, though it was just around the corner. “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”
“Nothing, unfortunately,” Allie replied, “but we should still stock up in case there’s a last-minute booking.”
“Do you often have idle days?” Reece asked.
Allie immediately went on the defensive. “It’s still the off-season, and I’m only now getting the business back up to full speed. Johnny couldn’t work the last few weeks of his illness.”
Cooper felt a pang of loss and guilt. Though Allie would never believe him, he’d have been here to take care of Uncle Johnny if he’d known the man was dying.
He’d always thought there would be time.
“We’re still well-stocked with soft drinks,” Allie said, pulling them back to business. “But we need cold cuts and fruit. Bread we can buy tomorrow morning at Romanelli’s Bakery, when it’s freshest.”
“Don’t worry,” Cooper told her. “We’ll handle everything. You just go out and have a good time. But before you leave, can you show Reece your financial records? He’s here to go over the books.” He tensed, expecting her to balk.
“Of course,” she said smoothly. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fix myself some dinner and read in my bunk.”
That seemed a strange choice to Cooper. She’d been on the boat all day. Didn’t she want to get out? Maybe she wanted to keep an eye on things, in case he and Reece had in mind to walk off with the silverware or something.
Allie led them downstairs and to the rear of the boat. She unlocked the hatch that led to the captain’s quarters.
Johnny’s presence was still strong here, and a wave of nostalgia washed over Cooper. The cabin looked exactly the same as he remembered, right down to the picture of St. Brendan the Navigator, patron saint of sailors, bolted to the wall. Even his pipe smoke lingered.
The finality of Uncle Johnny’s passing hit him hard in the gut. The old man wouldn’t emerge from some hatch, whistling a jaunty tune, pipe clenched in his teeth and a glass of Scotch in his hand. He’d always been a drinking man, but before Aunt Pat’s death, spirits were strictly for after the boat was in port.
And Aunt Pat. Cooper had been focusing so much on Johnny he hadn’t given much thought to her, because she’d died so many years ago, but memories of her lurked at the edges of his mind. She’d been a hard-living, wiry woman with a sense of adventure every bit as strong as her husband’s. She’d had a tattoo of a sailboat on her shoulder long before tattoos were stylish.
She’d been a heckuva cook and she taught her nephews to play poker like pros.
“Something wrong?” Allie asked.
He realized he’d just been standing in the doorway, frozen. He shook himself. “Just remembering.”
Allie went to a small desk in the corner of the cabin, opened a drawer, and pulled out an old-fashioned ledger book as well as four checkbooks and a cash box.
She laid out the checkbooks on the desktop. “Business account, Johnny’s personal account-which has been closed, and my two personal accounts-savings and checking. You’re welcome to work in here, but you’d have more room in the salon,” she said.
“Won’t we be in your way in here?” Reece asked.
“I don’t use this room except to do bookkeeping. I sleep in the V-berth. Will you need anything else?”
Reece had opened the cover of the ledger book and was looking at it with a strange expression on his face. “You don’t have your records on computer?”