Making Waves (18 page)

Halfway down, she stopped and turned. “Your jacket.”

“Keep it.”

Hiking up her skirts, she dashed the rest of the way with a firm grip on the gift he’d given her.

She raced into her tent only to find another gift, tied in a bright red bow, sitting on her bed.

Lilly jumped to her feet. “Oh my goodness, look at you. Where have you been? I was afraid you might get caught in the storm.”

Reluctant to remove the jacket, Marguerite stood dripping on the rug in the center of the tent. “I was at a tent revival on the other side of the lake when the storm rolled in.”

“Looks more like it rolled over you.” Lilly chuckled and handed her a towel. She lifted the coat from Marguerite’s shoulders. “And who does this fine piece of tailoring belong to? I know Mr. Roger wasn’t wearing that.”

Marguerite’s cheeks warmed. “I ran into Trip Andrews at the meeting. He and some friends saw me home.” She quickly discarded her wet skirt, blouse, and underpinnings and then slipped into the warm gown Lilly offered.

“He brought you home in the dark?” Lilly laid Trip’s coat across the brass footboard.

“In the rain.” She eyed the long, narrow package on the bed. “Who’s the present from? Daddy?”

“Nope. Your Mr. Roger.”

“Oh.” Disappointment washed over her like the cold, pounding rain.

“A messenger brought it all the way from town. He said Mr. Roger paid him double to make sure you got it tonight.” Lilly picked up the discarded wet clothes and draped them over the trunk. “Well, aren’t you going to open it? I’ve had to stare at it the last two hours, and I’m dying of curiosity.”

Marguerite patted the bed beside her and waited for Lilly to join her before picking up the note tucked beneath the grosgrain ribbon. “It says, ‘So my stargazer can think of me while I’m away.’”

“Isn’t that sweet?”

The sentiment made Marguerite’s empty stomach lurch, and she scrunched her nose.

“So I take it Mr. Roger is going somewhere?”

“He’ll be gone for a couple weeks on business.” Marguerite fingered the ribbon. The gesture was thoughtful, but she shouldn’t accept it. Ladies accepted gifts only from their intended.

“If you don’t open it, I will.” Lilly chuckled again. Marguerite tugged the ribbon tails and the bow sagged. She lifted the lid to the wooden crate and pushed the straw inside away. She made contact with something smooth and withdrew a long, shiny tube.

Her heart skipped. Marguerite caressed the mahogany cylinder with its fine brass fittings. She extended its length and peered through one end. Lilly handed her two more lenses she’d found wrapped in the crate.

Tears sprang to Marguerite’s eyes. She’d been hoping to have a telescope of her own someday, but even her father thought the cost exorbitant.

Knowing Roger had been listening the other night softened her ire toward him. Her heart warmed at his gesture, but she would have to give this gift back. It was simply too valuable, and keeping it would signify that she intended to accept Roger’s proposal.

But she knew already that to return it would kill her – almost as much as saying yes to a marriage proposal from Roger.

Maybe she could simply use it until his return. She’d love to show Trip the stars and discuss the lunar navigation technique she’d read about in the newspaper article at the boat shop.

Lilly frowned. “What is that thing?”

“It’s a telescope. For seeing the stars.”

“Humph. I can see stars right here in this tent without that thing. Pretty ones in your blue eyes. Only they aren’t for Mr. Roger, are they?” She cocked her head to the side. “It’s your boat teacher who’s putting the sparkle there, and poor Mr. Roger doesn’t even know it.”

“Mr. Andrews was simply being kind, and I admire him for his sailing abilities.” Unconsciously she picked up Trip’s jacket and caught a whiff of its woodsy, rain-fresh scent.

“Sure you do.”

Marguerite looked at the two gifts before her. One planned. Intentional. Safe. Secure. Offering her the world.

The other offered on a whim. A dash in the rain. A risk. A chance. Offering her nothing but warmth.

She carefully set the telescope back in the crate and set it on the floor. Then, after one last whiff of the jacket, she hung it on the knob of the bedstead.

Two gifts.

She could keep only one.

Since spending the last few days close to the boats, Marguerite found herself more in love with sailing than ever. Hoping Trip would declare today’s weather perfect for sailing, she rose early and dressed in a brown divided skirt and an ivory shirtwaist. She topped that with a camel-colored linen jacket and black tie. If they hurried, perhaps they could catch Trip and his crew taking out the
Endeavor
. Yesterday Trip had told her they tried to get in one short practice run before breakfast and a longer one in the afternoon.

Just getting to watch Trip’s regal sailboat race would be its own reward for missing breakfast. Her stomach rumbled in protest. Maybe she could grab a biscuit or two or three from Alice.

She glanced at Lilly’s cot and was relieved to find it vacated. After slipping on her Wellington boots, Marguerite hurried next door to Mark’s tent. Isaiah, who shared a tent with Mark, awoke with the roosters each morning, so she didn’t have to worry about disturbing him.

“Mark? Wake up.”

Rustling inside the tent told her Mark had heard her. He slapped the tent flaps open and stuck his head through the opening, hair sticking out like Medusa’s. “Why are you here already? It’s barely light.”

“If we hurry, we can watch Trip taking the
Endeavor
out.”

“You woke me up for that?” He rubbed his sleep-filled eyes and yawned. “Listen, Marguerite, I’ve been thinking. Maybe this sailing stuff isn’t for me.”

“Nonsense. You’re a natural.”

“Yeah, a natural at getting seasick, and it happens every time. You might as well face it – it’s not for me.”

“You can’t quit now, Mark. You just learned all those knots.”

“Mine look like lumps of coal. Yours were the ones that turned out.”

“It takes some practice. Please, Mark, you can’t quit now.”

“I can quit anytime I want.” He raked a hand through his rumpled hair. “Why don’t you go watch without me? Maybe I’ll come later.”

Her mouth went dry.
Don’t panic. Think this through
. “Mark, it’s only polite to tell Mr. Andrews if you intend to discontinue lessons. He’s been a good teacher. At the end of today’s lesson, you can say something if you still want to.”

“I guess you’re right. I like Mr. Andrews, just not his bouncy boats.”

“Now, go get dressed so we can get going.”

“What about breakfast?”

“Let’s try eating after you’ve gone sailing. Maybe that will help the seasickness.”

Mark’s lower lip jutted out. “No breakfast? I’m liking this sailing less and less.”

“Okay, you go get dressed, and I’ll get you some biscuits from Alice.”

“Remember, I like – ”

“Honey and lots of butter. I know.”

Ten minutes later, Mark downed his biscuits in three bites each and washed them down with a glass of fresh milk Isaiah had procured from one of the local farmers. Marguerite took the time to dab the honey from her lips and finish her tea, then the two of them mounted their bicycles and rode from camp.

Marguerite turned an eye toward Mark. She didn’t blame him for wanting to avoid becoming sick again, but Trip had assured him it would pass with time. What if he told Trip he wanted to quit today? She’d simply have to make sure he didn’t have the chance. Maybe today would go well and he’d want to continue.

Lord, You can do anything You want to me. Please just
don’t let Mark get sick again
. Shamed that she was thinking only of herself, Marguerite quickly added,
If he does, I won’t
make him keep taking the lessons
.

Dismounting quickly, they both laid their bicycles against the boat shop wall and hurried inside. No one was in the office or workshop, but the heavy doors in the back swung open toward the dock. Marguerite directed Mark outside and followed him. She paused when she caught sight of Trip on the deck of the
Endeavor
, his torso hard, wide, and masculine. Heat climbed her throat, and she touched her warm cheek.

Mark jogged to the boat and Harry waved at him. “Whoa, Mark. Where’s the fire?”

“We didn’t want to miss you all.”

“And why might that be?”

Before he could respond, Trip shouted to Harry for a line. The curly-haired man snagged a coiled rope from a hook, and Marguerite hurried down to the dock to join them.

Harry handed Trip the line. “Look who I found.”

“Good morning. You two are here early.”

“Marguerite was hoping to watch you practice this morning.”

“Was she now?” Trip straightened and grinned. He caught her gaze and her cheeks warmed even more. “I’ll tell you what. Since we’re one man short ’cause Max had a job to do, if you can tie these two lines in a fisherman’s knot, you can come out with us.”

Marguerite scrambled on board after her brother and followed him to the ropes Trip had indicated. Mark tried to make the knot but ended with a tangled mess.

Making Waves Marguerite wiped her sweaty palms on her divided skirt. “Here, let me show you.”

“Don’t help him,” Trip said. “Make him do it.”

She sighed. The fisherman’s knot was the easiest one. “Can I at least talk him through it?”

Trip chuckled. “I suppose.”

While Marguerite coached, Mark looped the rope around. After a few false starts, he said, “I think I got it.”

Trip stepped behind Marguerite. His skin-tingling breath on the back of her neck made her pulse drum.

“Then pull on it,” he said.

In her head, she heard Trip’s directions from yesterday.
If
the knot
“
stops
,”
then you did it right
.

Mark pulled both lines, and the knot tightened and finally stopped.

She released the breath she’d been holding and smiled.

“Good job, Mark.” Trip slapped him solidly on the shoulder. He gave her a tilting grin. “You too, teacher. Now, go sit in the stern where you’ll be safe. Mark, you can sit on the port side. Your job will be to help us keep the ship from heeling. Remember how we use our weight as a counterbalance?”

Her brother nodded and scampered into his assigned place. Marguerite hesitated for moment. If she asked, would Trip let her join Mark?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Trip pointed to the stern and waited until she moved that direction.

Mark grabbed hold of the safety line and a wave of fear rolled through her. Soon they’d be under way. How would his rebellious stomach fare? She’d almost forgotten how far the sailboats sometimes leaned, especially when racing. And today was so windy. If he got sick again, he would want to quit for sure.

Maybe his seasickness had passed, and if he got into trouble she could help him out. With everyone getting so busy, she doubted anyone would notice if she moved from her spot.

She looked up to see Trip standing before her. “I can trust you to stay here, right? I’m letting you on this boat now only because I believe you’ll do what I say.”

Great. He trusts me. Lord, don’t You have any other believers
You can make squirm this early in the morning?

“Now, I’ve got to go check all the knots ’cause – ”

She grinned. “Because a bad knot is worse than a bad wind.”

He tapped the top of her straw hat. “Ah, you were paying attention.”

Let’s just hope Mark was too
.

Within ten minutes, Lloyd released the bow from the dock. Once the ship drifted clear, he tossed the second line to the deck and jumped on.

From her seat in the stern, Marguerite watched the four men move about with their tasks like a well-groomed team of horses as the
Endeavor
made sail. They ribbed one another and raucous laughter rent the air. But when the time came, they settled down to work. How differently Trip captained the
Endeavor
than his father had the
Argo
. High spirits and genuine respect for each other kept the top-notch crew performing each task with precision.

Harry swung into a seat near Trip. “Your dad seemed a smidgen impressed with our race times yesterday.”

Marguerite strained to hear Trip’s response over the flapping sails. He wiped a sheen of lake spray from his face. “Unfortunately, it’ll take more than one good time to impress him.”

“Like winning the regatta?” Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself, Trip.”

“He’s working himself to death. You heard the doctor. If he doesn’t let me take over soon, it’s going to kill him. Before he’ll let me do that, I have to prove myself.”

Stunned by what Trip said, Marguerite thought about his father. Captain Andrews didn’t look well, but if a person never cracked a smile, what did they expect?

“He’s a proud man, and it’s hard for him to trust anyone to do it like he would.” Harry leaned against the mast and rubbed his temples.

Trip frowned. “Headache?”

“It’s not what you think. I haven’t been drinking.”