A Star Tribune serialized novel by Jane Fredericksen

Chapter 8

The story so far: Kinney slices his hand while drinking, and Ronnie meets her crew.

Kinney looked terrible, unshaven, with surly hair. His hand was wrapped in a bloodstained towel.

Ronnie watched with interest as he opened a storage bin, pulled out a first-aid kit and popped the lid.

She moved to the edge of True Wind. Kinney seemed too bleary to focus on her.

"What happened to you?" she demanded.

Startled, Kinney dropped a bandage roll. It bounced across the deck, spilling a stream of white gauze.

"Damn!" He dove for the roll, but Ronnie jumped across the dock. In a flash, she knelt beside him.

"I can handle it," he said. But he fumbled the roll again.

Ronnie intercepted it. "I'm here," she ordered. "Let me help." She quickly rewound the gauze as Kinney reluctantly unwrapped the towel.

"It's nothing," he insisted. "A small cut."

Ronnie tried to catch a glimpse of the wound, while Kinney attempted to conceal it. "So what happened?" Ronnie pressed.

A brief pause. "I got bit."

"Bit? By what?"

He seemed embarrassed. "A whiskey glass."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first. Let me see." She reached for his hand.

Kinney flinched, jerking it away.

Like last night, Ronnie thought. On the Mainlander. She had pretended not to notice at the time, thinking it was a fluke.

She held out her hand. "I won't hurt you. Promise."

Kinney moved warily, but he finally extended his arm.

Ronnie gently examined the cut. It looked deeper than she had suspected. "It must be sensitive." She unrolled a length of gauze. "You seem a bit … touchy."

Kinney sounded defensive. "I just like to know what's coming, that's all. I'm bad with surprises."

Ronnie grinned. "Then why do you sail?"

His blue eyes met hers. And just for a moment, Ronnie felt herself slipping, like a sailor drawn to deep water.

She had expected to see young eyes, but Kinney's were ancient, weary, battered. Eyes that had navigated rocky shoals, stormy seas and treacherous currents and somehow survived, but at a terrible cost.

My God, it's like reading a chart, Ronnie thought. She couldn't turn away.

And suddenly, she noticed those eyes moving closer, testing the waters. "Good question," he murmured.

Ronnie forced herself to focus on his hand. "You know, Vince is showing a good deal of trust in you." She sprayed disinfectant on his wound.

Kinney grimaced. "Not sure I trust him. Do you?"

"He's my fiancé."

Kinney took a step back. "Oh! Sorry."

"It's all right."

"Really, sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Ronnie started to wrap his hand.

"I mean, really, really…."

"Kinney, shut up." She decided to change the subject. "So. Pete said he'd never known anyone who could read the wind like you. What did he mean by that?"

"I can't tell you. But I can show you. Close your eyes."

She shot him a warning look.

"Don't be so suspicious. I promise I won't try anything. Just a demonstration."

"OK then." Ronnie closed her eyes. "Now what?"

"Concentrate. And tell me everything you notice. Use all your senses, except your eyes."

Ronnie concentrated.

"I hear a dog barking. People talking a couple of slips down. Someone's halyards clanging. I think I smell bacon…." She broke off, because suddenly she felt something else. She felt his breath on her neck and felt her own pulse start to hammer. She opened her eyes and stepped back, alarmed.

He seemed nonchalant. "Just testing your powers of observation. Not bad. Now my turn. You can put your hands over my eyes, if you think I'm going to cheat."

"No thanks."

"OK then." Kinney closed his eyes. He seemed to focus all his energy on everything around him. "The dog's bark is more of a yelp. Some collie mix. He's tied up and wants to be free, but his rope is tangled. The people talking are actually arguing, and the bacon is burning. Married couple, I think. The wife's criticizing the husband for the loose halyards. He's criticizing her for the bacon. There's a kid on the shore practicing piano. Doesn't want to do it. You can tell by the plodding notes …"

Fascinated, Ronnie moved closer.

Tomorrow: Chapter 8 continues.