Page 40 of The Sailor

Chapter Eight

Zach was doing his best to put the incident with Pearson behind him. It was more than obvious Marit had. And even that pissed him off. That she was so used to people being assholes to her because of her gender and profession that she could so easily forget about what happened.

Then again, he figured she hadn’t forgotten about it—how could she?—so much as intentionally put it to the back of her mind. They hadn’t talked much about why she’d left Portland, but it was obvious to Zach now. This Thorne Deaton guy had driven her out, and she’d had no one to stick up for her. To help her fight back.

Rockville was different from Portland. Small towns were notorious for their tight-knit locals . . . and for being not so welcoming to newcomers. But Marit had something not every newcomer had—a boyfriend who’d grown up local, and who now owned a business in the town.

He’d seen it today when he’d introduced her to people he’d known for ages, and again during the interaction with Pearson. The locals were clearly on Marit’s side. That loyalty would only continue to grow. If anyone was going to be chased out of town, he had a feeling it would be Lucas Pearson.

The question was how fast it would happen. Zach didn’t want her to face any other confrontations like the one she’d had today. But he knew it was probably inevitable. He didn’t think Pearson was smart enough to heed the threat he’d made against him.

For now, he did his best to put the incident behind him so it didn’t ruin their rare day off. They’d stopped at her place so she could change into her suit before heading to Lobster Cove, and now had just pulled onto the property. He was looking forward to showing her around. Last time, she’d only gotten to see the house and the beach behind it. He wanted to introduce her to Walt and Barry, and show her the boat storage facility, which would soon start filling up as the weather turned colder. Show off his and his brothers’ old fort in the woods, which Chad had named Fort Bad Assery after meeting their twelve-year-old neighbor, who’d commandeered it.

And of course, the lobster swing.

As he cleared the long drive, Zach saw Linc’s SUV parked in front of the house. He was always glad to see his brothers, but he had a soft spot for his oldest. Linc was a decade older than Zach, and he’d been off in the Air Force flying jets when Zach was in middle and high school, but he’d always looked up to him.

Linc was a badass former fighter pilot . . . and even though he didn’t talk about his missions, Zach had used his connections in the Navy to find out more details about the crash behind enemy lines that had ended his brother’s career because of an injured shoulder. He’d evaded the enemy by walking ten miles a day until he’d simply walked across the border, back into safer territory.

Yes, Linc was a total badass, even if he never bragged about the things he’d seen and done.

Zach felt no awkwardness at all walking into his family home holding Marit’s hand. He had no doubt his mother wouldn’t even blink at how fast things were developing between them. In fact, she’d most likely be delighted.

“Mom! It’s me. Zach. Are you here?”

No one answered, and the house had an empty feel to it. So she was probably out back or at the beach. It was a beautiful July day; the sun was shining and the breeze was light. Everyone around these parts knew to enjoy the warm days of summer while they had them, because all too soon the cold and clouds would descend on their little corner of the world for the winter.

“Come on, let’s see if we can find everyone,” Zach told Marit, still holding her hand and walking to the door in the living room that led out to the back deck.

The second they went outside, they could see and hear people down at the beach. His mom was cheering loudly from the shore as Linc high-fived a boy with bright-red hair, who’d just stood up after falling off a row of wooden crates floating in the water.

“What the heck?” Marit asked in confusion.

Zach grinned. “Come on.” He led the way down the steps of the deck and headed for the beach to join the fun.

His mom noticed them as they got closer—and when she saw Marit’s hand in his, her grin grew exponentially. She didn’t comment on it, though, instead just said, “Look! Kash is rockin’ the crates!”

The boy had gone back to shore, then taken a running start toward the crates strung together in the water. He ran across the crates bobbing in the water as if he was running on dry land.

“Um . . . someone want to explain why that kid is running across lobster crates?” Marit asked, the confusion easy to hear in her voice.

“He’s training for the annual crate race,” Linc answered. His eyes were glued to the boy as he ran back and forth across the fifteen or so crates that had been strung together in the shallow waters close to shore. “It takes place at Lobster Fest, on Saturday, and when he heard that some of us had won it, he came over asking for tips. So I found some old crates in storage and got them fixed up . . . and now he’s practicing.” Linc turned and grinned at Zach. “He’s better than you were. Than all of us were. He’s light on his feet and has extraordinary balance.”

“I see that,” Zach said with a small smile.

They all watched as Kash, the boy who lived next door with his mom and his grandfather, crabby Victor Rogers, ran across the crates Linc had set up for him.

“So . . . he’s been coming over to Lobster Cove a lot?” Zach asked.

Linc shrugged. “He and Britt have become pretty good friends. She visits him out at the old fort and bribes him—I mean, brings him Mom’s cookies and lets him babble on about astronomy. I guess he mentioned entering the crate race, because he wanted to do something to make his grandfather respect him, and she told the kid about us winning a couple of times. That was apparently all it took for him to overcome his reticence to visit the house. And now here we are. Watch it, Kash!”

The last three words were shouted, but it was no use. Kash tripped over one of the ropes holding the crates together and fell into the water.

Marit inhaled sharply, but the boy popped right back up, looking worriedly over at Linc and the rest of the adults.

“It’s okay. You’re doing amazing! I have no doubt you’re going to be one of the top finishers!” Linc called. “The key is to move your feet as fast as you can. Spending as little time as possible on each crate. You’ll get to rest a few seconds between laps. Once you get to the other side, you can regroup, breathe, then go again. You’ve got what it takes, Bud!”

The pride on the boy’s face transformed him. Zach could almost see his little chest puff up and his shoulders go back a bit more. The small bit of encouragement Linc was giving him was doing wonders for his self-esteem.