Lost in Paradise: A Sinners on Tour Honeymoon Page 8

  He rummaged through a compartment in the cockpit and pulled out a lantern, a flare gun, a first aid kit, and a portable radio.

  “Yes!” she said. “We’re saved!” She reached for the portable radio and switched it on. It made a squelching sound, the red light of the digital display glowing in the twilight. She pressed the button and said, “Help us. Our boat was struck by lightning.”

  She released the button and waited. Nothing but static greeted her eager ears.

  “Are you on the right channel?” Sed asked.

  “Sixteen?”

  He nodded. “That’s the distress frequency.”

  He turned on the LED lantern, which gave off quite a bit of light. It was comforting in the rapidly descending darkness.

  “Why sixteen?” she asked. “That’s hard to remember. Why not channel one?”

  “How should I know? Maybe you’d like to Google the reason.”

  She let his snippiness pass. He was probably as stressed out as she was, even if he was better at hiding it. She tried calling for help again. No response.

  “Why aren’t they answering?” she asked.

  “Maybe we’re too far from their receiver. The boat has a huge VHF antenna to send signals vast distances.” He pointed at the tip of the mast. “But it’s scrap metal now.”

  When she squinted up through the gloom, she could just make out the broken skeletal remains of the antenna far above them. “That must be where the lightning struck,” she said. At the pinnacle of the mast, the VHF antenna had been the highest point of the boat.

  “I’d say so. I’m going below to find my cellphone and see if we can get a signal. Are you coming?”

  She didn’t want to be left out on the deck alone. She pressed the radio against her chest so she didn’t do something stupid like drop it overboard, and rose to her feet. A cool breeze blew across her damp backside, and she couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Maybe I should consider putting on something other than this life vest.”

  Sed grinned, and some of her tension eased. He extended his free hand in her direction, holding the lantern in the other. “Personally, I think it’s a great outfit. If the fashion industry catches wind, it will be on all the top runways by fall.”

  She laughed and took his hand, finding even more steadying strength at the touch of his fingers. “Sure. You could set trends wearing this look onstage. Your female fans wouldn’t complain.” But Jessica would. No one got to view that spectacular cock of his but his wife.

  They ventured below deck, which was far less creepy by lantern light, and Sed located his discarded swim trunks near the bedroom door. Jessica dug out the bag of clothes she’d brought aboard and was grateful to slip into a pair of dry underwear and shorts. She didn’t take the life vest off, though. Not even to put on a T-shirt over her bikini top.

  Sed pulled his phone out of the pocket of his trunks and powered it on. “No signal,” he said, glancing up from the screen.

  Jessica wasn’t surprised. The cards kept stacking against them. Still, she had to believe they’d make it home. Sed was an important person. Hundreds of thousands of people would care that he was missing. They’d come looking for him. On the other hand, the only person who cared enough to look for her was also lost at sea on a disabled sailboat.

  “Maybe we can get a signal outside.” She took her cellphone out of her bag and tried to get a signal on hers even though his didn’t have one; there was always the possibility that her phone had superpowers she was not aware of. Yet she couldn’t get a signal no matter how far she extended her arm over the edge of the boat.

  “Remind me to have a satellite dish installed on this boat when we get back to port,” he said.

  “Why? So lightning can strike that too?”

  “No, so we’ll have backup to our backup’s backup. Dad thought installing satellite Wi-Fi was too highbrow and unnecessary.”

  “You seem to think I’ll willingly get back on this boat in the future.”

  He smiled. “I know you were hooked. Well, until that storm caught us unaware. But what are the chances of lightning striking twice? Especially on the West Coast?”

  She wasn’t sure what their odds were. The lightning strike of her feelings for Sed had struck twice, so such occurrences couldn’t be totally unprecedented.

  “Sailing was wonderful before I knew what it meant to be at the mercy of the sea,” she admitted. “Can we set off a flair now?” She might feel better if they were doing something that might get them rescued.

  “We’ll set off our flare if we see a boat or if someone answers our distress call on the radio and needs a visual to locate us.”

  “It’s getting dark. If there’s someone nearby, they’ll see the flare for sure and know we need help.”

  “If there isn’t someone nearby, shooting it off will be a complete waste of our flare. Then what?”

  Jessica swallowed as she realized he’d used the singular flare and not once, but twice. “Flare? We have only one?”

  “Afraid so.”

  So shooting flares off every ten minutes wasn’t an option. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “Hold tight until morning, when I can better assess the damage. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get something working again or at least hoist the sails manually and steer us toward the coast until we’re close enough for our distress call to be heard.”

  She supposed that made sense. The damn compass wasn’t even functioning correctly, and with no stars to guide them, they were sure to get even more lost than they already were if they tried risky maneuvers. The ocean was vast, and they were but a speck on its waves. One wrong move could end their happily ever after before it had really started.

  “What do we do until morning?” she asked. She was too amped up to even consider sleeping. What if they didn’t hear a summons on their handheld or if another storm blew in? Or what if they ended up in the direct path of a giant cruise ship?

  Sed smiled and set the lantern on the deck. Taking her hand, he drew her body against his, the gentle sway of the boat moving them together in a slow and tranquil dance. “We honeymoon.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sed held Jessica against his chest and breathed in the fruity scent of her shampoo. He hoped she couldn’t feel the fear churning through his gut. Was he trembling, or was that her? He couldn’t let her know how afraid he was. He had to be strong and reassuring. He needed to figure out a way to get them through this, to keep her and the baby safe, and he would. But before he did all that, he needed to hold her for as long as she’d allow and draw on her confidence in him.

  What was it about holding a woman that lent him strength? Had he been stranded out there on his own, he was certain he’d be a basket case right now.

  Jessica’s stomach rumbled, and she shifted in his arms. They’d missed dinner. The half can of soup she’d had for lunch wasn’t nearly enough to nourish both her body and the baby’s.

  “Let’s go find something to eat.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything to find,” she said. “And the microwave won’t work. Neither will the stove or oven.”

  “We’ll improvise,” he said.

  He picked up the lantern and took her hand, leading her below deck. Setting the lantern on the table, he started rummaging through cabinets. He knew his dad had emergency rations around somewhere.

  Jessica, who was opening drawers, gasped in delight. “Granola bars!”

  “How many?” He hoped they’d be rescued by morning, but they couldn’t count on it. They’d have to prepare for the worst and pray for the best.

  “Four.”

  Not nearly enough to make an appreciable difference in their survival. “Eat one now, and save the rest.”

  “You eat one with me,” she said, carrying her find to the table.

  “I’m not hungry. I had a cabbage roll, remember.”

  “We still have a few of those. They’ll spoil if you don’t eat them.”

  “I’ll sa
ve them for you.”

  “I can’t eat them, Sed. They’re much too spicy. I’m not sure you should eat them either. You’ll probably get an ulcer.”

  “Your cooking isn’t that bad, Jess.” And if she got hungry enough, he was sure she’d find a way to stomach the spicy cabbage rolls.

  She opened her granola bar and took a bite. “Mmm. It’s funny how good things taste when you’re starving.”

  “We can eat the soup cold,” he said.

  “That’s true. Then we won’t have to worry about burning it.”

  He laughed, starting to feel a little better about their food situation. “And while there might not be much to eat on the boat, there’s plenty to eat under it. We just have to catch it.”

  “I’ve been advised not to eat raw sushi while I’m pregnant.”

  “Then we’ll have to figure out a way to cook it.”

  “I vote that we figure out a way to get rescued.”

  He nodded. That would definitely be for the best.

  She polished off the last bite of the granola bar and reached for a second one. “Are you sure you don’t want one of these?”

  “Maybe you should save one for breakfast.”

  “You don’t think we’re going to be rescued, do you?”

  “We should have planned better. I should have planned better.”

  What had he been thinking, climbing aboard a boat without inventorying supplies? At least they’d brought plenty of water in the cooler. But now he was wondering if they should ration that as well. Were the boat’s reserve water tanks full? He hadn’t even checked. His dad had always handled that kind of thing when they took the boat out. Dad saved all the fun parts of sailing for Sed and had dealt with the boring logistics behind the scenes. Surely his dad had packed away emergency provisions. Where would he have put them?

  Sed shuffled through another cabinet and found unopened bottles of condiments. “Ketchup for your granola bar?”

  “No thanks. But if you find some mayonnaise . . .”

  He turned his back before screwing up his face in disgust. Who was he to criticize a pregnant woman’s cravings? He’d been anticipating pickles rather than mayonnaise, but as long as she didn’t expect him to join her in her culinary monstrosities, he could deal.

  At the back of a cabinet, he found a box of saltine crackers.

  “Yay! I’ll take some of those,” Jessica said, reaching her hands out for the box.

  “Open a can of soup. Nothing goes better with crackers than cold soup.”

  “I can pretend it’s gazpacho or vichyssoise.”

  Sed’s stomach growled. “Now you’re making me hungry.”

  “Then please eat something. Your rationing behavior makes me feel like we’re going to be lost at sea forever.”

  “They’ll find us,” he said, hoping to reassure her.

  “You say that, but your actions tell me you don’t believe it.”

  “Just in case,” he said.

  “Sit down and eat with me, Sed. Please.”

  “It’s more important that you eat. Think of the baby.”

  “It’s important that you eat too, because your refusal is stressing me out.”

  She peeled open one of the plastic sleeves and held a few crackers out to him, but he shook his head.

  “I’ll eat a cabbage roll in a minute. I’m sure there’s a stash of emergency meals around here somewhere.” Where would you put them, Dad? He searched his memory for snatches of conversation he’d had with his father on the boat. He could clearly picture every line of the man’s suntanned face, the blue eyes that Sed had inherited, and the thinning hair that Sed hoped he hadn’t. He could even hear Dad’s voice in his head.

  “You don’t want to store much on the boat while it’s docked. Never know when someone might sneak aboard and rob you,” Dad had once said.

  Dad had always been worried about having things stolen. Probably because they’d been robbed more than once in the less than safe neighborhood Sed had grown up in. And with the long hours Dad had worked at the factory, he’d always been worried about leaving his wife and children alone.

  So maybe Dad hadn’t kept supplies on the boat. Or they had been stolen. Or he’d hidden them somewhere no one would think to look. But where? Sed stopped searching the mostly bare cabinets and turned to face the lounge area. Several vinyl-covered couches were arranged around a table, with others along the walls to save space.

  Sed pictured his dad opening the seat of one of those couches and pulling out a rain poncho and a tackle box. You couldn’t even tell by looking that the seats had storage underneath.

  “Bingo!” he said.

  He scooped up the lantern from the table and hurried to the lounge, lifting the closest seat and peering inside the hidden compartment beneath. Ropes. Lots of ropes. Sail repair kit. Some pulleys. A small toolbox. He closed the bench and moved to the second couch. Beneath that one he found tackle, fishing poles, a net, and a small lobster cage. Under the third couch, he struck gold—or rather, MREs, large jugs of water, and even a flameless stove. Dad was still looking out for him even after he was gone. That was the kind of father Sed wanted to be, one who thought things out rationally, who planned ahead, who could be depended upon, and who put his loved ones first. He’d learned from the best but had a long way to go to become that kind of man. Sed wished he’d realized his aspirations before his father had passed so he could have asked for more advice and let his dad know how inspiring he’d been.

  “I knew we could count on Dad.”

  “Just like I can count on you.”

  Sed took a steadying breath, not sure why her simple statement made his throat tight, and pulled several sealed bags from the compartment and carried them to the table. “MREs.”

  “Survival TV dinners? Even I can prepare those,” Jessica said. “Open pouch. Stuff contents into mouth.”

  “There’s a flameless stove if you want to heat them up.” He returned to the hidden compartment and grabbed the little round stainless-steel stove, a heating pack—just add water—and several more pouches of food. There was enough to easily last them a week. Maybe even a month if they rationed. He’d heard stories of boats getting lost at sea for months. Even a year. He didn’t mention those tales to Jessica, though. He didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily by saying blasphemous words like week or month. For all he knew, they’d be back at their honeymoon lodging by this time tomorrow.

  “Chicken pesto pasta or beef stew?” Jessica asked. She flicked two packets of MREs at him.

  “You pick,” he said. “I’m going to finish off those cabbage rolls.”

  “We’ll use those cabbage rolls as fish bait tomorrow. Assuming you don’t actually want to catch any fish.” She laughed, obviously feeling more at ease now that she’d eaten a little and knew they wouldn’t starve any time soon.

  “You might be surprised. Fish might enjoy a little spice in their diet.”

  “Sit with me, Sed,” Jess said, patting the booth seat beside her. “We’ll be okay.”

  He must have been running around like a madman if she was offering reassurance to him now. He took a deep calming breath, removed his life vest—to offer her more assurance that everything was just fine—and changed into shorts and a T-shirt before settling into the booth beside her.

  They worked together to figure out the stove. She read the instructions—which he definitely would have ignored—and within a few minutes the amazing little contraption began to get hot. He filled a small pot with water, and she set the closed pack of beef stew inside. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the life vest she still wore a bulky reminder of what they’d been through that day. It could have been worse. It could have been a lot worse. His arm tightened.

  “I can probably take this off now,” she said, unfastening a buckle.

  The click made his heart rate increase.

  “We’ll wear them when we’re above deck,” he said. It wasn’t like she’d fall overboard while they were belo
w deck. “Both of us.”

  “Good plan.” She pulled the vest off and laid it on the table within easy reach. “That’s better.”

  She sighed, and when he pulled her close again, he had to agree. He liked the feel of her unencumbered body beside his.

  They shared the warm beef stew, which tasted much better than he anticipated, and had dried fruit for dessert. They even used the warmed water to make instant coffee. He had to admit that he felt a lot calmer with a full belly. Perhaps hunger had been responsible for his earlier panic.

  “It’s stuffy down here without the ventilation system,” Jessica said. “Do you think it’s safe to go outside?”

  “Of course,” he said. “Just wear your life vest.”

  “And you wear yours too.”

  After they cleaned up their mess and used the head, they ventured above deck. He carried the lantern in one hand and held tightly to Jessica’s with the other. He never again wanted to feel that it was possible to lose her. She didn’t complain, even though holding hands while maneuvering around the seating area behind the cockpit was awkward. He settled into a squishy cushion—which had already dried after the storm—and she sat beside him. She leaned against him and sighed contentedly. “It feels great out here.”

  A little chilly, he decided. He took the lantern and went below deck to retrieve a blanket to cover their legs.

  When he returned, she said, “Turn off the lantern. The stars are out.”

  He sat beside her again, covered them with the blanket, and turned off the light. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, dim stars became bright, bright stars became brilliant. The Milky Way spread across the sky in a gauzy luster.

  “Wow,” he said breathlessly. “I’ve never seen so many stars.”

  A meteor shot across the sky, a short-lived streak of bright light.

  “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “A shooting star! Make a wish, Sed.”

  “I wish Jessica was my wife.”

  She giggled and poked the back of his hand. “Make a wish that hasn’t already come true.”

  “All the others aren’t important. What do you wish?”

  “I wish life vests weren’t so bulky.”