Read Online Distracted by Madeline Sloane - Free Book Online

trampoline,
admiring her long legs and the small indentations made by the
web.
    He followed her to the cockpit and checked the chart
plotter. He turned off the autopilot, steering a course towards the
dark coastline. Soon he turned on the diesel engines. “Keep its
nose into the wind while I lower the sails,” he said, stepping away
from the wheel.
    “Where’s the wind?”
    “I’ve got it pointed into the wind already, but you
see those little strips of yarn on the rigging? Those are
tell-tales. They tell you which way the wind is blowing. Just keep
your course steady and your eye on the tell-tales. They should be
flapping toward the stern of the boat.”
    “Okay.” Erin nodded, recalling the basics of wind
direction from sailing dinghies on the lake. She hiked up onto the
seat, resting her hands on the wheel.
    Spence went forward and furled the jib, tucking the
sheets into cam cleats and tying new stopper knots. Then he pressed
a button and the mainsail furled into the mast. He checked that all
the other lines led back to the helm or were coiled properly on the
deck.
    “Put her in neutral,” he called to Erin.
    She looked at the two-lever throttle control.
    “Which one do I use?” She yelled.
    “Both,” Spence replied loudly. “They operate both the
port and starboard engines.”
    She stood on the chair’s footrest to see over the
cabin roof. She could see Spence bend over the bow, an anchor held
lightly in one hand and its chain in the other. He dropped the
heavy steel plow anchor into the water, slowly paying out the chain
rode, then the line attached to it. She heard the motor whirl of
the electric windlass. A few minutes later he stood up and checked
to make sure no other boats were nearby. “Put her in reverse. Go
slow.”
    Erin slid the handles into reverse. The sound of the
big diesel engines changed as they slipped from neutral into
reverse.
    Spence watched the anchor line then held up a fist.
“Okay, stop.”
    She quickly put the controls back into neutral.
    Spence knelt on the bridge deck and tugged on the
line that led into the ocean. “One more time. Back up slowly, then
stop.”
    Erin did as he asked, repeating the process twice
more before Spence was satisfied that the anchor was set. He tied a
bridle leading from the port and starboard hulls onto the anchor
rode after sliding a heavy, lead kedge down the line. “That should
keep us from sashaying tonight,” he said.
    Returning to the cockpit, he turned off the engines
and set the GPS anchor alarm. If the boat moved more than usual as
it swung on the anchor, then the crew would be alerted. No captain
wanted to sleep through the predicament of a dragging anchor.
    Erin moved from the helm to the cockpit door.
    “It’s late. I guess I’ll get ready for bed.”
    Spence nodded, still reviewing his navigation
screens.
    “I’ll wrap things up here. You head on in.”
    She went down in to the port hull and gathered her
bath supplies. She took a quick, cramped shower, then dressed in a
T-shirt and pair of panties. She had left so quickly and felt
pressured while packing that she had left many of her clothes at
Spence’s house. She hadn’t even packed a bra.
    After she had curled up in the berth, she realized
she had nothing to read. She tucked the quilt around her and called
out.
    “Spence? Are you there?”
    “Yes,” he said, his head and shoulders appearing in
the passageway. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes. But I need something to read. I didn’t pack
anything except my laptop and I’ve left it in the saloon. Can you
bring it to me?”
    “Sure.” He reappeared shortly with her briefcase.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
    “I’m sure. I just don’t have many clothes on, and I
don’t want to parade around your boat half-dressed. Thank you,” she
said primly, taking the briefcase and unzipping it. She flipped
open the screen and looked at him questioningly. “Thank you,” she
repeated.
    “You’re welcome,” he said, a