A Star Tribune serialized novel by Jane Fredericksen

Chapter 8

The story so far: Kenny meets his four crew members.

Kinney's smile grew more forced as he saw the four top-heavy carts. "And this must be your luggage."

Pet fixed him with a cold stare. "Is there a problem? My sister said there might be a problem."

Kinney stared at the carts. It's a problem, Kacie knew. She watched to see what he would do.

The captain played it cool. "Not at all. Coffee, anyone? There's a fresh pot in the galley."

"Sounds wonderful, captain," said Dr. Sykes. "We'll be back in a moment to help with all this." He and Leo exited to the cabin.

Petunia turned to Hattie. "Why is everything such a problem? They told me this was a cruise."

"Cruiser, Pet," corrected Hattie. "Not a cruise ship." She followed the others to the cabin.

Pet and Kinney faced off on the dock.

"Do you have any guava juice?" asked Pet.

Kacie, in the Stowaway, let out a shriek of laughter. Kinney and Pet glanced around, trying to trace the source.

Kacie ducked down. She heard Kinney say, "I'm not sure. Feel free to check the cooler. By the way…."

Kacie peeked out from the blanket. Kinney was pointing to the woman's feet. "I'm afraid no high-heels on the boat. It's not safe and they damage the deck."

Petunia looked indignant. She tried to stare down the young captain, but Kinney didn't blink. Finally, Pet slid off the heels and — with one last icy glare — padded downstairs to the cabin.

Kinney let out a deep breath.

He gazed at the luggage carts, reached down, pulled out an electric blow-drier and slowly shook his head.

He began to unload, as Kacie and the Pirate doubled over in silent mirth.

Chapter 9

Even he had to admit, it was a perfect day for sailing: ocean-blue skies, puffy white cumulous clouds and a fair wind. They should make moderate speed, seven to 10 knots, he guessed. To be out in the midst of it — a glorious day on Lake Superior, on a boat like Redemption — well, that was a privilege.

When they came about, cut the engine and his crew hoisted the mainsail, Kinney gripped the wheel with suppressed excitement. Then it came: that first breath of wind that billowed the sail and lurched them forward into the great unknown.

It never failed to move him, ever. He couldn't explain it to anyone, but every sailor understood.

To Kinney, it was the breath of life itself. He let it fill him, like the sail, pull him forward. He was in his element, at the wheel, in control. He, the boat and the wind were one. He was attuned to the slightest inflection of the breeze, the trim of the sail, the surge of waves against the hull, the excited murmur of the crew …

The sound of retching over the aft deck.

Kinney swiveled his head to see Petunia, her windblown hair draped over the pushpit. All conversation stopped, as everyone watched in concern. Even Kinney felt a slight stab of sympathy.

"Care to steer, Mrs. Wallace?" he asked.

Pet's head remained over the stern railing. "Nooooo," she moaned.

"It helps to look at the horizon…." Kinney broke off as the radio in the cabin crackled.

It was Ronnie's voice. "Redemption, Redemption, Redemption," she hailed. "This is True Wind, over."

"Could someone take the wheel?" Kinney asked.

Dr. Sykes stepped forward and Kinney hopped into the cabin. He picked up the microphone. "Redemption here. Switching to seven-oh," he announced, before flipping from the emergency channel. Once on the private channel, he asked, "What's up, Ronnie?"

"Are we having fun yet? Over."

Tomorrow: Chapter 9 continues.