Heart's Passage Part 25

She emerged into the baking sun to find Paul sitting on the deck, legs dangling over the side, breathing tube in one hand and a stubby of beer in the other. The contents were obviously ice-cold, judging by the droplets of condensation running down the side, and Jo found herself craving a taste.

Paul read her mind and grinned. "I figured you'd be panting for a coldie, Skipper," he said, waving another, unopened, bottle at her. "Come and get it."

"You twisted my arm," she agreed and she struck out for the ladder, tossing her mask and fins up on deck before pulling herself up the metal steps.

Unclipping the weight belt, Jo plopped herself down next to the bare-chested crewman and accepted the cold bottle gratefully. She sucked down a long drag of the liquid amber, releasing an unladylike but deeply satisfied groan. She leaned back against the deck cowling and closed her eyes against the sun.

"You all right, Skip?" asked Paul, looking at the lines of tension on his usually sanguine boss' face. "You look like you've gone 10 rounds with Kostya Tszyu."

Jo snorted an ironic laugh, tipping her stubby up again for another lengthy swallow. "Gee, thanks, Paulie. It's just been a long couple of days," she said, clinking her bottle against his in a toast. They both looked back over their shoulders at the sound of the tinny returning from the beach. "Hey Jen," Jo called as the brunette tied off to the stern and clambered aboard.

"G'day," Jenny replied cheerily. "Oh G.o.d yes, give me a beer, Paul. I'm parched." The crewman yanked another bottle out of the icebox by his side as Jenny sat down cross-legged on the deck next to them. "Thanks, darl."

Jo was content to listen to the two crewmembers' conversation for a while, closing her eyes again, and trying to block out thoughts of Cadie on the beach with the senator. She's got to do what she's got to do. And I've just got to find a way to survive it.

An expectant silence punctuated by Paul clearing his throat forced Jo to open her eyes to find both crewmembers looking at her.

"What?"

Jenny and Paul exchanged a glance, the brunette eventually reaching out with a foot to nudge the big man with her toe. "Go on, Paulie, it was your idea."

"I smell a conspiracy," Jo said, taking another swig. "Come on, guys, spill it."

Paul put his beer down on the deck and leaned back on his hands. "Well, Skip, we've been thinking..." he began tentatively.

"Oooo, scary thought," Jo teased. "I'm beginning to think you want something and that this cold beer wasn't just from the goodness of your heart."

Paul clutched a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Me, Skipper?" he objected. "Would I be that manipulative?"

Jo grinned. "b.l.o.o.d.y oath. Now stop stuffing about and tell me what's on your mind."

"Hamilton Island Race Week," he replied bluntly.

"Ah, I should have known," Jo said, pointing her beer at him accusingly. "Here I was thinking you were sewing that patch on the spinnaker just to give yourself something to do the other day."

Paul had the good grace to blush, but he launched into his argument nonetheless. "Come on, Skip, it's a great idea," he said. "Toby, Jason, and Cadie are pretty handy around the sheets and winches. The others at least know enough to stay out of the way. And we've got a great chance this year."

Jo said nothing but leaned back against the cowling once more. Privately she agreed with Paul, but there was some fun to be had in giving the big man a hard time. Hamilton Island Race Week was one of the biggest yachting regattas in the country, a once a year festival of day-long racing and night-long parties. Yachts of all shapes and sizes could compete in various race categories, and the Seawolf had been a narrow loser to arch rivals from another company the year before.

"We only ever compete when we don't have a boatload of loopies, Paul," Jo pointed out. "It's an insurance nightmare if we rub up against someone."

Paul rolled his eyes. "You're kidding aren't you, Skip?" he protested. "When was the last time we hit anybody? You know it's only us and Bombardier {torn ABC Charters who are any good in our cla.s.s. The rest stay out of our way."

It's certainly a tempting idea, Jo thought. It would keep the pa.s.sengers interested and was low maintenance for the crew, other than the actual racing, which would be full on. Don't kid yourself, Jo-Jo. It'll keep you distracted as well. And too busy to be wondering every second where Cadie is and what the senator is up to. A happier thought occurred to her as she remembered the last time the Americans had been anywhere near a nightclub. And if Naomi is half the party animal I think she is, she might even leave Cadie alone for a few hours.

"Is Bombardier definitely competing?" she asked, looking at Paul, whose answering grin threatened to split his face in half.

"Too right. They've been talking themselves up, too. They reckon we're too chicken to take them on."

"Oh really?" Jo drawled, her compet.i.tive spirit stirring at the thought of a week of match racing. She crossed her legs at the ankle and drained the last of her beer. "Okay," she said finally. "Let's do it." She held a finger up as Paul started to celebrate. "On one condition, Paulie. We still have to run it by the paying pa.s.sengers. If they say no, then it's no. And even then we have to get the entry forms in somehow."

Paul looked sheepish and Jenny laughed. "He's already lodged them, Jo-Jo," she said, giggling. "Weeks ago."

Jo arched an elegant brow at Paul. "Pretty sure of yourself aren't you, mate?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No, Skip. Pretty sure of you though." He grinned and slid out of her way when she tried to swat his shoulder. "Come off it, Jo-Jo, you know you can't resist a little healthy compet.i.tion."

Blue eyes twinkled back at him. "I can't resist any compet.i.tion, Paulie, healthy or un."

"Wooohooo," he yelped, springing to his feet and doing a little jig. "I've been wanting to nail those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds since last year. You beauty!"

The two women laughed at his antics until the big man finally slowed down, pulling another three beers out of the icebox. Jo accepted her second gratefully, twisting the cap off and tossing it back into the ice.

"So," she asked, "when's the first race?"

Paul flopped back down on the deck. "Friday at noon," he replied. "Then each day at noon till Tuesday, providing the wind holds."

Jo started planning the next few days in her head. "Okay, so a.s.suming the Americans say yes, that gives us tomorrow to get ourselves around to Hamilton and tomorrow night and Friday morning to get race trimmed," she mused.

Paul shook his head. "That won't take us that long, Skipper," he said. "We've been running her pretty tight anyway."

Jo nodded. "Well, I can vouch for the keel and the hull," Jo muttered, taking another swig of beer. "Okay, let's put it to the troops at dinner and see what they think."

"We're gonna kick some serious a.r.s.e, Skipper, just you wait and see," enthused Paul.

"Suits me, mate," Jo said quietly, settling back against the cowling. It's not the a.r.s.e I want to kick, but it'll do for now.

Even silent, we're still talking to each other, Cadie thought as she leaned forward and poked at the fire with a long slick. She took in the circle of people gathered around the friendly blaze and smiled quietly. Jo had managed to position herself directly opposite her as she leaned back between Naomi's legs. The senator sat on a low chair, her right arm resting proprietarily on Cadie's shoulder. But Naomi can't see my eyes. And thanks to that cap, she can't see Jo's either.

The fire's glow turned the tall skipper's pale blue eyes molten gold and Cadie willingly fell into them. Under the peak of her cap, Jo's gaze was open and warm, though she kept her expression impa.s.sive.

G.o.d, I love her, Cadie thought with amazement, smiling back at the dark-haired woman. A fleeting grin flickered across Jo's mouth in reply, followed by a raised eyebrow and a questioning tilt of her head. She wants to know what's going on, Cadie reasoned. I wish I could tell her. h.e.l.l, I wish we could just sail away together.

Jo watched Cadie flinch slightly as the senator's hand shifted from her shoulder and started playing idly with the blonde's hair.

G.o.d d.a.m.n her. Jo suppressed the growl that welled up in her throat, and ducked her head momentarily to better hide her scowl. What's going on, my love? I expected us to have to be careful when we got back, but having Naomi all over you all the time isn't usual.

I can't tell you, angel, Cadie tried to say with her eyes. Please understand. I'm trying to protect you until I can get her away from here. I'm sorry it hurts.

Jo couldn't tear her eyes from the blonde's. Other conversations swirled around her and she tried to keep half an ear tuned to them, but for the most part all she saw were the darker than normal, gold-flecked eyes across the fire. Part of me wants the next 10 days over and done with. At least then things will happen. They may not be good things, but any thing's got to be better than watching them together.

"Tell us about the racing, Jo," Toby said, from over to her left. She disengaged from Cadie's eyes reluctantly and smiled at the man's enthusiasm. The pa.s.sengers had willingly agreed to them entering the regatta, the men particularly excited by the prospect.

"Well, it's a different triangular course every day," Jo replied, feeling Cadie's gaze continue to track her. "If the wind blows like it normally does around here, then each race should take about three hours, from noon each day."

"Fs there any prize money?" Therese asked. She was sitting to Cadie's left.

"Mhmm. A thousand dollars for the winner of each race, and $10,000 for the overall cla.s.s winner at the end of the week," Jo answered. "So the racing can get a little serious." She grinned.

"And who gets the money?" That came from the senator, whose fingers continued to trail across Cadie's shoulder possessively.

It figures she would ask that, Cadie and Jo thought simultaneously.

"Well," drawled Jo, "it's Ron's boat, so technically the money goes to Cheswick Marine." She grinned again at the slightly disappointed looks around the fire. "Except that Ron made a policy years ago that whoever's on board shares the money." Smiles brightened. "So whatever we win, we split between all of us, okay?"

"Alllriiight," Toby whooped, high-fiving his partner.

Jo laughed. "We haven't won anything yet, mate."

"We will," Jason said confidently.

Jo nodded. "If we sail well we will," she agreed, leaning back on her elbows and running a handful of sand through her fingers. "We're gonna need about three of you to help us out at any one time. You up for it?"

"You bet, Jo-Jo," Toby said. Jason nodded vigorously beside him.

"I'm up for it," Cadie said quietly. Jo smiled at her and tilted her head in acknowledgment.

"Me too," the senator said quickly, despite having not once lifted a finger to help the crew since coming aboard.

Jo watched Cadie's eyes roll and fought hard not to laugh out loud. Instead she opted to be gracious. "Thank you, Senator," she murmured.

Just then Paul entered the circle from one side and Jenny from the other a few seconds later.

Subtle, thought Jo, an affectionate smile creasing her face. She caught Cadie's eye again and saw the same thought crossing the blonde's mind. Nice to know one shipboard romance is working out okay.

She looks years younger when she smiles, Cadie thought, allowing herself a few seconds to just appreciate the angular, dark beauty of the woman sitting opposite her. She tingled at the memory of Jo's touch. Hard to believe that was only this morning. It feels like it was a week ago. Again their eyes met and Cadie felt the blush rising, realizing her thoughts and the skipper's were traveling along similar lines. Dark blue eyes looked up at her from under the peak of the cap and what she saw there, set Cadie's pulse racing. Again.

Jo groaned inwardly, wishing the world would disappear.

"Tacking!" Jo yelled as she spun the wheel as hard to starboard as she could. The three men scuttled around the deck, ducking the boom and clearing the sheets and sails as Jenny and Cadie worked the winches hard. "Go, go, go," she urged as the boom and rigging slammed across the boat, swinging them round in a tight arc. "Go hard. Go hard!"

Jo looked up and held her breath, exhaling as the mainsail filled and they regained momentum. Didn't lose too much with that one, she thought, pleased with the efforts of her makeshift crew. And it's just as well. She glanced across to Bombardier, which was on the opposite tack and pretty much neck-and-neck with Seawolf as both yachts plowed down the third and final reach to the finish line. This is going to be a close-run thing.

She looked back down the length of the Seawolf. Cadie and Jenny were flat on their backs, breathing hard next to their respective winches. They'd lost the first race of the series yesterday, mainly because everyone was scrambling to learn the race routine, but things were much improved today. Jo grinned. "Good work, guys," she shouted. "Maybe two more tacks and we should be there."

Cadie lifted her head up and looked back at the skipper. "Are we in front?" she panted.

Jo watched as Bombardier headed towards them on the opposite tack.

"Not sure. It's close," she replied. "Right now it looks like they're going to cross in front of us, but it won't be by much."

Cadie nodded and dropped her head back down, folding arms across her eyes and breathing deeply. d.a.m.n, that grinding is a good workout. Her shoulders ached and her lungs burned as she tried to recover before the next tack. Something cold touched her knee and she glanced down to see Therese holding a stubby of beer out to her. "Thanks," she murmured as she took the bottle and sat up to drink.

It was a glorious day. The cloudless sky arched above them but the stiff sea breeze took the sting out of the sun's burn. Cadie looked around and took in the view. Hamilton Island was behind them and ahead was an open expanse of ocean, with the yacht club's launch away in the distance, marking the race finish.

Naomi and the other women pa.s.sengers were lounging around the c.o.c.kpit, chatting and drinking and generally doing their best to stay out of the way of the crew.

"Here we go," Jo yelled as Bombardier loomed up on their starboard side. "Prepare to tack if we need to bear away, people." They were close enough now to hear the crew yelling on the other boat. Cadie jumped up and grabbed the handle on her grinder, ready if they had to retrim the sails. Paul ran to the bow.

"Jesus, it's going to be close," Jo muttered to herself. Hold your nerve, Jo-Jo. Hold your nerve. You only have to miss by an inch. The other 50-footer ploughed towards them and Jo opened her mouth to call the bear-away order, but Paul beat her to it.

"You're right, Skipper," he yelled. "She's going to cross in front."

A few seconds later he was proven right as Bombardier slid past their bowsprit, close enough to see grinning faces.

"We've got you again, Paulie," the Seawolf crewman's opposite number shouted as the yachts pulled away from each other again.

"Long way to go, you mouthy b.a.s.t.a.r.d," replied Paul under his breath, as he made his way back to the helm. "Close, Skipper," he said as he grinned at Jo, whose black hair was whipping around her head.

She beamed back at him, feeling the adrenaline rush. I've missed this. She caught Cadie's eye as the blonde sat down on the edge of the c.o.c.kpit cover, dangling her legs over the edge. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments before Cadie tore hers away, a smile playing across her lips. I miss you, Jo mentally projected. I miss talking with you. I miss touching you.

"Hey, Skip, where are you?" Jenny blurted. "They're tacking again!"

"Shiiit," Jo exclaimed. "Come on, guys, prepare to tack."

Everyone scattered to their stations again and soon they were repeating the routine, swinging back onto the port tack.

"We're losing ground, Skipper," Paul said shortly after as he watched Bombardier cross easily in front of them. "No danger of a collision this time."

"All we can do is trim it tighter, Paulie," Jo replied, looking up into the rigging. "What do you think?"

The big man shrugged. "Bit dodgy, Skip," he said, looking back at her. "We've only got one spare mainsail."

"Don't want to waste our prize money on a new sail," Jo agreed.

"Don't want to go two races down either," Cadie piped up from where she was sitting.

"Easy for you to say, Cadie," Jo retorted, laughing. "You don't have to face my boss." She's a compet.i.tor, I like that. She pondered the problem as Bombardier threatened to take an una.s.sailable lead. "What the h.e.l.l, Paulie, let's go for it."

"Yes!" Cadie yelled, jumping to her feet, evoking chuckles from around the c.o.c.kpit.

"And you call me compet.i.tive," Jo muttered to Paul, provoking another guffaw from the big man as she took back the helm.

"And her b.u.t.t is cuter than yours, too," he answered conspiratorially, as he pa.s.sed her on his way forward.

Can't argue with that, Jo thought appreciatively, taking in the sight of Cadie crouching over her a.s.signed winch. Can't argue with that at all.

But then, like a cloud crossing the sun, the senator from Illinois was in Jo's face. The skipper didn't flinch, instead fixing Naomi with the steeliest ice-chip glare she could muster. She took a degree of satisfaction when the stocky American took a backward step.

"Enjoying the view, Miss Madison?" the senator asked coldly. Jo didn't reply, just continued to look Naomi in the eye. "I would appreciate it if you could manage to keep your interactions with my partner purely professional from now on."

"Right now, that includes talking about the race, Senator," Jo replied quietly, aware that Cadie was watching the conversation with wide, scared eyes. There's something here I'm not getting. "And as Cadie is acting as part of my crew, I can't really avoid speaking to her."

A deceptively friendly smile played across the senator's lips but never quite reached her eyes. "Then try to do it without leering," she said. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to do something you might regret." With that she turned away, not affording Jo the chance to respond.

Oh, she is begging to be b.i.t.c.h-slapped, Jo found her inner demon saying. And I am just the b.i.t.c.h to do it. I hope I get half a reason to, that's all I'll need. Paying customer be d.a.m.ned.

Cadie's eyes were still on her, and Jo took the chance while Naomi's back was turned to flash the blonde a rea.s.suring smile. She got a wobbly response and felt her heart ache.