Freshwater Kisses (The Kisses 3)

"...expected 70 mile per hour winds, tornado warnings... high wind advisories in effect..." the pre-recorded voice droned as interference crackled through the speakers. This was not a good time to be out on the water.

I picked up the radio, ready to call in our position, but we were too far out. The lake surrounded us like an ocean, and with the storm, we couldn't call out. We were on our own.

I stumbled to my feet, feeling the boat roll beneath me as I worked my way up the hatch and out onto the deck. Robbie stood tall at the helm, the wind whipping his hair as he kept our course straight. He smiled as he saw me. The sky was dark, but lightning was beginning to flash along the horizon, silhouetting him against the black sky.

Where the sailing had been smooth with only a little bit of chop, the lake became alive, releasing angry monsters shaped like waves. Lightning flashed in the sky, the clouds finally overtaking us and the waves no longer played gently with our boat. The water was black, tipped with harsh white. Spray crashed over the bow, sending cold droplets scattering across the deck. The sails hummed with tension.

"Robbie! We need to head to shore!" I shouted. "The Coast Guard is putting out weather advisories!"

Lightning flashed in the oncoming clouds, the horizon growing hazy with rain. The last thing I wanted was to be out in a storm. As a sailor, I had come to terms with sailing in hard weather, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. With the dire warnings of the pre-race meeting, I wasn't looking forward to braving the storm. Bad things happened in storms. Lightning could strike the mast, sails could rip, the boat could capsize, and a sailor could fall overboard into the murky waters. This storm could easily kill us. With the angry skies surrounding our little boat, I thought heading to port was the safest choice.

"No, Sam, we can stay out," Robbie replied calmly. He glanced around at the oncoming storm, confidence filling his face. "We're winning."

I looked out across the water to see at least two boats turning toward shore. Grant was one of them. We were flying past him. I could see the look of dismay on his face as we flew past. We had the wind and were making excellent time. The others were falling back. I bit my lip, worry curling up in the pit of my stomach like a snake. The rumble of thunder echoed off the water.

"Sam, it's just a gale. Think of all the possibilities for your career if we win this?" Robbie adjusted the helm slightly. His brow darkened and he looked dead at me. "I want to win this, Sam. We didn't win last time, but we are going to blow this one out of the water. We are going to humiliate Grant. I can feel it in my bones that this is our race. We just have to take it."

I thought about it for a moment. The stronger winds from the storm could give us the edge, the speed, to leave everyone in our wake. Winning the Invitational would put my sailing career back on the map. I would get sponsors and quit that horrible waitressing job forever. With this race on my resume, I would be able to have my pick of partners and boats. I could make sailing my job, and Avery would have my income and

Grace's. I needed this win.

"Okay, Captain. Reef the mainsail?" I asked. Reefing the mainsail would allow us to control the wind better, but it would slow us down.

"No," he said, a devilish smile on his face. "The Hope can handle it. Sheet in the jib, and we'll let this wind carry us into the finish line. We'll beat everyone there by a full day."

I nodded, the excitement of winning giving me courage. I hooked into my harness, making sure I was securely tethered to the boat. I didn't want an errant wave plucking me away and casting me into the choppy waters. I was a good swimmer, but there was no way I would survive the storm out there.

I grabbed one of the sheets controlling the angle of the jib, positioning the smaller triangle sail to catch the wind better. Avery's Hope lunged forward, skipping across the waves with almost childlike abandon. I laughed, feeling the boat dance as we left our competitors behind.

Rain came up from behind us, hitting the water like tiny stones. I didn't dare let go of the rope as I worked the sail. The wind was gusting and I had to control it. "Robbie!" I called out, feeling the boat begin to tip. I wasn't strong enough to do this on my own. This was why I sailed double-handed.

Robbie engaged the autopilot and rushed toward me, pulling the jib sheet from my hands. He released the rope and pulled. The wind died down for a moment as he worked the sail. For that one minute in time, I thought we were going to beat the storm. The two of us together would come out victorious and we could use the storm to shoot us across the water like a canon.

Lightning flashed, and the wind suddenly puffed in a different direction, filling the sail and pulling Robbie like a marionette on a string. In the bright light of the flash, I watched his arm stretch violently straight and then continue to bend in the wrong direction. Even over the thunder I heard a popping noise. Robbie's eyes went wide, and he dropped the rope, falling to his knees. His scream echoed in my ears.

The sheet that was once in his hands was flapping in the wind like a whip, the sail out of control. I jumped across the deck, water dripping off my cap. My hands knew what to do before my brain did.

I needed to lose the jib. The sail was overpowering the boat, and I couldn't control it without Robbie. Even with Robbie, I would have taken it down. The storm was going to rip the boat apart if I didn't. I let out the sheets, and the jib flapped in the wind like a pennant. The air filled with its clatter, noisy even over the increasing growl of thunder.

I grabbed the sheet that was once Robbie's, and wrapped it around a winch. With more strength than I knew I possessed, I grunted and ground the winch until the jib was neatly rolled up and locked away. It no longer was catching the wind, but we were still moving at a breakneck pace. Now I regretted not having reefed the mainsail as it sped us dangerously along. There was no way to fix it, though.

Robbie struggled to his feet, his face a mask of pain as he cradled his crooked arm against his body. He was going into shock. He could do nothing to help me now. I tied the ropes in place, watching Robbie carefully pick his way down into the cabin. Fear lurched in my stomach, dread numbing the stinging rain on my skin. He disappeared below deck, and I forced myself to move. If I didn't move, we were going to die out here in the storm.

A wave washed over the deck, the water cold and dark. I had to make sure Robbie was secure and then I had to get us out of trouble. I didn't stop to let myself think. If I thought about what was happening, I would freeze. I would fail. For all intents and purposes, I was sailing single-handed now. In a storm. It was my nightmare come to life.

I left the autopilot engaged, praying that there was nothing to hit in the immediate future, detached my line, and ducked into the cabin. Robbie was curled up on his bunk, his face white as a sheet.

"Hey," I said, taking a lee cloth and gently starting to tie him in. The boat was rocking violently, and I didn't want him to fall out of his bunk and injure himself further.

"I put my arm back, but it doesn't look right," he whispered through clenched teeth. I could see his elbow already beginning to swell. I touched the hand on his injured arm, checking for a pulse. Luckily, his heartbeat throbbed madly into my fingertips.

I turned and opened up the cooler, grabbing a bag of ice and ransacking the kitchen for some painkillers. I fed him four brown pills and tucked the ice up under his elbow. The boat lurched, and I nearly lost my footing. As much as I wanted to stay with him, to make sure he was all right, I had to get back up and keep the boat upright and sailing.

"I'll be back in a little bit to check on you. Just rest. If you need me, holler." I kissed his forehead, unsure if the cold wet was just from the rain. I put on my foul-weather gear, the raincoat and pants making me feel warmer. I hadn't even realized I was cold. Robbie whimpered in his bunk. I knew the pain must be excruciating; I did the only thing I could do, tucking the blanket around him a little bit tighter, and went back up on deck.

The wind nearly bowled me over as I stepped up on deck. I hooked my tether to the ring in the cockpit and closed up the boat. Robbie was going to have a rough trip, but I needed to keep him dry. The thought of him going into shock terrified me, but I had no choice. I had to get us to safety.

I disengaged the autopilot, locking my hands onto the wheel. Spray flew across the deck, splattering cold wet drops across my face. Every wave washed over the boat until it seemed we were more underwater than sailing across it. I focused only on the wheel, guiding us through the storm by the tiny light of the navigation in the cockpit.