Page 4 of A Shore Fling

TRAVIS

T he sun hangs low behind the treeline, casting a long gold streak across the water as I guide the boat through the shallows off North Cove.

It’s getting late, and my patrol’s almost done.

I just have one more sweep down this stretch and then it’s back to the docks, file the log, lock up, and microwave whatever leftovers are in my fridge.

The motor quietly purrs beneath me as I keep the throttle low and scan the shoreline.

With the tide out, the marsh grasses and weeds are visible.

I continue for a few more minutes before something catches my eye off the shore of a narrow, uninhabited spit.

A boat with a white and red hull sits oddly in the water, definitely not where one should be.

Easing off the throttle, I change course and spot a woman on the shore, arms flailing. As I get closer, I hear her shouting, “Hey! Over here!”

I raise my hand in acknowledgment to ease her apparent panic and then radio in. “Harbormaster to shore. I’ve got a disabled vessel offshore of North Cove, Sea Ray SPX 190, with no one aboard. I have a visual of a female waving from the shore. Requesting medical standby in case she’s injured.”

I kill the throttle, drifting in as close to the Sea Ray as I dare. She’s sitting low but stable, with the ignition off. I’d bet my paycheck she got caught up in the shoals.

“Hey! What about me?” she shouts, looking like some washed-up shipwreck survivor. She’s barefoot with tan shorts clinging to her thighs and long brown hair hanging in tangled, salty corkscrews. Even from one hundred fifty feet out, I can already tell she’s the city type.

I throw the boat into neutral. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Are you injured?”

“No.” She bends down, picking up something before she walks into the water.

“Wait. I’ll come get you.”

She shakes her head, continuing onward with determination. She’s probably been out here for hours all alone and wants to get back to her overpriced rental. I’m already regretting everything that’s about to happen in the final half hour of my shift.

She sloshes toward me, raising the items in her hand over her head as the water reaches her waist.

“Careful,” I mutter. “I wouldn’t want to add a twisted ankle to your list of accomplishments today.”

She squints up at me from beneath a wide-brimmed hat, breathing hard. “Are you always this welcoming, or am I just special?”

“It depends. Do you always beach a forty-thousand-dollar boat in water that isn’t deep enough for a kayak?”

Her lips flattening into a thin line, she shrugs. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Let’s hope this is it for you… at least for today.

” I hold up my finger. “Don’t move.” I idle the patrol boat closer, keeping an eye on the depth gauge.

This near the shore, I can’t risk more than a quick nudge toward her.

I throw the engine in neutral and move to the side, reaching down.

“Hand me your things.” A pair of sandals and some sunglasses get passed to me.

She eyes the side of the boat. “I don’t suppose you have a ladder?”

“This is a patrol boat, not a yacht. I don’t have champagne either.”

She gives me a flat look. “What am I supposed to do, pole vault up there?”

“You’re gonna put your left foot on the rub rail, grab my arm, and try not to drown in the process.”

“Wow. You’re charming.”

“I’m supposed to be off duty in four minutes. This is as good as I can manage.”

She sighs, grabbing hold and planting her foot against the hull.

I grip her wrist. “Ready?”

“Not even close.”

“Too bad.” I grunt as I pull her over the side. She flops over, landing in a wet heap on the deck. “You good?” I ask, stepping back to the helm.

She sits up slowly, brushing her tousled curls from her face. “Yeah. I’m sunburned, dehydrated, and embarrassed. But on a positive note, I had hours of uninterrupted time to reflect on my poor life choices.”

“You want a towel or a lecture first?”

She looks at me, dripping and miserable. “Towel first, please. Then you can hit me with the list of all the things I did wrong.”

I toss her a striped towel. “Is that your boat?”

She rises, wrapping the terry cloth around her lower body. “No. It came with the house I’m renting. I figured since I don’t have a car, I’d boat over. Easy peasy, right?”

I snort. “So you landed at the airport and drove a boat for the first time and thought everything would be fine?”

“Okay, in my defense, David at your office said if I could drive a car, I’d be fine.”

“David.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. If he isn’t giving bad advice, he’s not giving any. “Driving a boat and a car are not the same.”

“Yeah, I realize that now.”

“You should probably avoid operating any boat for the rest of your vacation.”

“Yeah, so much for being independent.”

“Maybe try a bicycle. It makes less paperwork for me.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t utter a word.

“Here.” I hand her a bottle of water. “I don’t need you passing out on me.” I nod toward the Sea Ray. “Is your luggage on there?”

She cracks open the lid and takes a deep pull before replying, “Yes, sir.”

I rub my face. “Of course.”

She frowns at me. “You’re annoyed.”

“You’re observant.”

Her free hand lands on her hip. “Nice of you to try and hide it.”

“It’s been a long summer.”

Her eyebrows dip into a frown. “But it’s only the middle of July.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re just the latest installment of harbormaster trials.”

“Well, I didn’t plan to get stranded.” She sips more water.

“No one ever does. They just assume it’s easy and have a complete disregard for the dangers the ocean brings.”

“Are you always this righteous?”

“Are you always this careless?” I retort.

“Touché.” Her mouth twitches. “I bet you’ve got a whole speech for visitors like me.”

I point to the logbook. “Page eight. Right between ‘City Folk Know Surprisingly Little’ and ‘You Have No Business Driving A Boat.’”

She laughs, and the tinkling sound takes me by surprise. “You’re a real ray of sunshine, harbormaster.”

“Travis,” I say. “My disposition will improve once your bags are on this boat and we’re back in the harbor.”

“I’m Nina. And thank you for your help, even though you’re kind of an ass about it.”

“Hey, I don’t get paid to be charming.”

She tips the bottle at me. “Good thing.”

I grunt, already steering us into a slow circle back toward the Sea Ray. She comes up to sit beside me.

“I really did think I could handle it. I just forgot to ask David for directions to the house, and then I lost track of time looking at all the beautiful scenery.”

I glance at her and then at the Sea Ray. “Next time, start smaller. Try a float or something less likely to kill you or anyone else.”

She smiles at me. “Do you offer lessons?”

“Yeah. Lesson One: Don’t believe anything David tells you.”

I bring us up alongside the Sea Ray with a little reverse throttle. She’s listing slightly but not taking on any water. “Boat looks stable enough. I’ll have Perkins Marine tow it in. They can drag her off the shoal without snapping anything.”

She frowns. “We’re just leaving it?”

“No. We’re letting someone with the right gear handle it. It’s not much of a rescue if I end up grounded next to you.”

She nods. “True.”

I radio in to let David know there’s no medical help needed and for him to send Perkins Marine out to retrieve the boat.

I turn to Nina. “I’ll get your bags.” I climb over the gunwale of the Sea Ray in one practiced motion and land with a thud on the deck.

There’s a suitcase, a leather duffel bag, and a small tote hanging from the throttle like it’s a coat rack. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

“Be careful with those,” she cautions.

I lift the suitcase with a grunt. “What the hell did you pack in this, gold bars?”

“I wasn’t sure what I’d need.”

“You packed like you’re never going home.” I heave the suitcase over the gunwale and drop it onto the deck of the patrol boat.

She scrambles over to it. “You need to be more careful.”

“Someone needs to take their own advice.” I toss the leather duffel onto the deck just as carelessly.

“That one has my good stuff in it.”

“What, the ballgown you’re gonna wear to the train car diner?”

Her nose wrinkles. “It’s a sundress, not a gown. The rental website suggested packing a variety of clothing items and mentioned how charming this town is.”

“Sure it is.” I stretch my arms out. “I was raised here, and look how charming I turned out.”

She rakes her front teeth over her bottom lip, looking unsure, and it sends a brief twinge of guilt through me. I shouldn’t be such a sarcastic bastard to her. She made a bad decision and screwed up the end of my shift, but she’s not the first to do so. Won’t be the last either.

Grabbing her tote bag, I return to the patrol boat and hand it over.

“Thank you, Travis.”

“You’re welcome, Nina.”

We start back toward the harbor, the sky behind us fading to light orange and gold. “So, which city are you from?” I ask, trying to make small talk.

Her eyes widen. “It’s that obvious?”

“To me it is.”

“New York City.”

“I would’ve bet money on that.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not unless you beach a boat on your first day here.”

“Ha. Ha. If you weren’t the grumpiest person ever, you could’ve been a comedian.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You would,” she scoffs, but her lips twitch with humor.

“So what brings you to Havenport?” I’m genuinely curious why she would be here for the summer, especially by herself.

“I needed a break from the city and the daily grind.”

“Why Maine?”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, which isn’t like me at all. I made all the arrangements last night, and here I am.”

“You’re lucky you found an available rental.”

She nods. “I know. The agent told me she had a rental that a family had backed out of. I took it as a good sign.”

“What about getting shipwrecked? Are you taking that as a good sign?”