Read Online The Whiskey Sea by Ann Howard Creel - Free Book Online
Authors: Ann Howard Creel
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Hicks slowly. “I’m doing what I’ve always done.”
Frieda straightened as she listened to some rigging clang against a mast outside and another idea hit her. “We could talk to Bahrs. If you don’t want to use the Wren , he’s got that skiff out there we could hire from him and give him a share of whatever we rake in. He’d make a lot more money than the pound-net fishing he uses it for.”
Hicks shook his head. “I’ve heard others have tried to talk him into it. He won’t rent the boat for running.”
“Aren’t you ever tempted?”
His face set firmly, he gazed off with a faraway look. “I fought in a war for this country. Being in the service and overseas remakes a person. I’m not going against the US, no matter what.”
“But it’s a stupid law.”
“No matter. I’m not breaking it.”
Later, still hoping to acquire some engine-fixing business, she took a walk along the piers. Pleasure yachts often pulled in at the end of the longest one, and just then a man caught Frieda’s eye on board a lovely sailboat with two polished wooden masts. Startlingly handsome, the young man had sandy-brown hair that was a bit wavy and unruly, his face finely boned, his lips full and expressive. Smooth, unblemished skin like tanned chamois leather. Wearing an expensive-looking jacket and gloves, he moved about the deck working with the dock lines. Frieda’s body went still. He was exquisite. Elegant and fluid. Smooth. Sophisticated.
Frieda couldn’t tear her eyes away. He glanced up, and embarrassed to be caught ogling, she shot her gaze downward, turned around, and walked away. For a moment, however, she knew nothing but the feel of his eyes on her during that split second. Something precious had flowed from them and landed on her.
Mentally, she shook it off. As she strode down the pier, she wondered why the people who owned that beautiful boat would have it out in this cold weather. Probably pulling the boat on land for the winter, she surmised.
Despite an inner battle to stop it, for the rest of the day the handsome man’s image kept swimming into view in her mind. If she were one to daydream about romance, he would be the perfect focus of those imaginings.
That night she fried the flounder Hicks had given her for dinner. Bea had gone upstairs to study right after school. Always studying, that girl, or flipping through discarded Vanity Fair magazines and dreaming of things she’d likely never have. Despite her intelligence Bea was way too idealistic. She thought that one of the fancy shops catering to the tourists would hire her to work on Saturdays, but the owners could get hill girls to do that. She could’ve been hired as a hotel housekeeper, but Frieda, nervous about men trying to take advantage of Bea, had talked her out of it. She also thought all she had to do was go to college and then every possible door would open for her. But Frieda knew she was the only one who could make the college dream come to fruition. She had to keep things true and tangible, and it haunted her. How was she to do it?
Silver was feeling better after his cold. He had sat on the porch until the snow began to blow sideways, hitting him in the face. He stoked a fire in the woodstove and sat down at the table that night.
He cleared his throat. “I heard you made an indecent proposal today.”
So Hawkeye had eavesdropped on her conversation with Hicks. And then told Silver. She knew it had to be him; Hicks would not have snitched. That demon Hawkeye would do anything to make her life more difficult.
“Indecent?” she said. “Hardly.”
Silver gave her a harsh glance. “It’s a bad idea I tell you.”
“It’s the best idea I’ve had in years.”
Picking up his fork and knife, Silver prepared to dig in. “Makes no sense to break the law when you don’t have to.”
She grasped the tablecloth. “It makes perfect sense.”
Silver’s eyes bored into hers. “Don’t do it.”
“I can’t do it. I
Frieda straightened as she listened to some rigging clang against a mast outside and another idea hit her. “We could talk to Bahrs. If you don’t want to use the Wren , he’s got that skiff out there we could hire from him and give him a share of whatever we rake in. He’d make a lot more money than the pound-net fishing he uses it for.”
Hicks shook his head. “I’ve heard others have tried to talk him into it. He won’t rent the boat for running.”
“Aren’t you ever tempted?”
His face set firmly, he gazed off with a faraway look. “I fought in a war for this country. Being in the service and overseas remakes a person. I’m not going against the US, no matter what.”
“But it’s a stupid law.”
“No matter. I’m not breaking it.”
Later, still hoping to acquire some engine-fixing business, she took a walk along the piers. Pleasure yachts often pulled in at the end of the longest one, and just then a man caught Frieda’s eye on board a lovely sailboat with two polished wooden masts. Startlingly handsome, the young man had sandy-brown hair that was a bit wavy and unruly, his face finely boned, his lips full and expressive. Smooth, unblemished skin like tanned chamois leather. Wearing an expensive-looking jacket and gloves, he moved about the deck working with the dock lines. Frieda’s body went still. He was exquisite. Elegant and fluid. Smooth. Sophisticated.
Frieda couldn’t tear her eyes away. He glanced up, and embarrassed to be caught ogling, she shot her gaze downward, turned around, and walked away. For a moment, however, she knew nothing but the feel of his eyes on her during that split second. Something precious had flowed from them and landed on her.
Mentally, she shook it off. As she strode down the pier, she wondered why the people who owned that beautiful boat would have it out in this cold weather. Probably pulling the boat on land for the winter, she surmised.
Despite an inner battle to stop it, for the rest of the day the handsome man’s image kept swimming into view in her mind. If she were one to daydream about romance, he would be the perfect focus of those imaginings.
That night she fried the flounder Hicks had given her for dinner. Bea had gone upstairs to study right after school. Always studying, that girl, or flipping through discarded Vanity Fair magazines and dreaming of things she’d likely never have. Despite her intelligence Bea was way too idealistic. She thought that one of the fancy shops catering to the tourists would hire her to work on Saturdays, but the owners could get hill girls to do that. She could’ve been hired as a hotel housekeeper, but Frieda, nervous about men trying to take advantage of Bea, had talked her out of it. She also thought all she had to do was go to college and then every possible door would open for her. But Frieda knew she was the only one who could make the college dream come to fruition. She had to keep things true and tangible, and it haunted her. How was she to do it?
Silver was feeling better after his cold. He had sat on the porch until the snow began to blow sideways, hitting him in the face. He stoked a fire in the woodstove and sat down at the table that night.
He cleared his throat. “I heard you made an indecent proposal today.”
So Hawkeye had eavesdropped on her conversation with Hicks. And then told Silver. She knew it had to be him; Hicks would not have snitched. That demon Hawkeye would do anything to make her life more difficult.
“Indecent?” she said. “Hardly.”
Silver gave her a harsh glance. “It’s a bad idea I tell you.”
“It’s the best idea I’ve had in years.”
Picking up his fork and knife, Silver prepared to dig in. “Makes no sense to break the law when you don’t have to.”
She grasped the tablecloth. “It makes perfect sense.”
Silver’s eyes bored into hers. “Don’t do it.”
“I can’t do it. I
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