Chapter 3

Rachel sat and stared out at the deceptively calm ocean. She could hear the wind rippling across the massive sail attached to the pole above her. Off to her right, lay the coast of Maui quickly passing by with its impressive rugged mountains. Her stomach, which twirled a bit when they first got underway, had settled. Her mind, however, had not.

Glancing out over the water, she mused at how deceptive the ocean was. For the time being it was serene and placid, but give it a kick of wind and how quickly that changes. All the romantics wax poetic about the sea but she truly is a harsh mistress, full of conflict and pain. How had Conrad put it?

For all the celebrations it had been the object of in prose and song, the sea has never been friendly to man.

An avid reader as a child, and a voracious one in college, Rachel found herself puzzling over the last time she'd even picked up a book. Perhaps that was something else she needed to change.

To be honest, she hadn't liked Joseph Conrad's work at first, but it grew on her. Where she found Hemingway to be an egotistical, chauvinist ass, Conrad had depth and soul. Pretty impressive, considering his first language was Polish, not English. Most gravitated to his short story, Heart of Darkness, and works like it, but she absolutely adored his novel, Chance, and the characters of Flora and Captain Anthony. Suddenly her favorite of all Conrad quotes sprang to mind.

Being a woman is a terribly difficult trade since it consists principally of dealings with men.

"How true is that?" she muttered darkly, recalling the audio file Nina played for her that morning. The scowl on her face deepened but then softened. "And here I thought I was done hurting," she lamented sadly, amazed at how much love and the ocean seemed to have in common.

"Are you okay?"

Surprised, Rachel glanced up to see a young girl with dark brown hair and pretty amber eyes appraising her with a rather concerned look. She gave the pleasant child as warm a smile as she could manage. "Actually, I'm not doing too badly. I'm usually not one for boats but so far, so good."

The girl's confused expression was comical. "Why did you come on the boat if you don't like boats?"

"That, young lady, is a great question," she replied with a chuckle. "Basically, I needed to get away for a bit and my assistant thought this would be the best way. Besides, it's actually more that boats don't like me than the other way around."

The confusion only deepened. "The boat doesn't like you?"

Rachel laughed. She liked this chiquita linda. "What's your name?"

"Hailey Steiger."

"Well, Hailey Steiger, I'm Rachel, and sometimes I have a problem with motion sickness."

"What's that?"

"Have you ever felt kind of woozy or sick to your stomach when riding in a car, a plane, or especially on a boat?"

The girl shook her head no.

"Well, consider yourself lucky, Hailey, because it's not a lot of fun, let me tell you. Fortunately, the sea is calm today," she said, gesturing toward the ocean around them, "and the boat isn't swaying from side to side, so I'm doing okay so far." Patting the surface of the boat next to her – the deck? – Rachel invited Hailey to sit down.

Watching the young girl plop down beside her, she couldn't help but notice the effort that must have gone into her hairstyle. "I really like your French braid," she commented as she gently touched what was clearly the more complicated four strand variety pulled down into pigtails. "Did your mom do that for you?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head, "my dad did. I asked him to do it a little while after he got back from the army, so he went and bought a book and practiced on me for like two weeks. He's really good at it now. My mom died last year, so it's just him and me," she added matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Rachel apologized, feeling a bit stricken at accidentally bringing up such a tender subject.

The girl shrugged and offered a sad smile. "That's okay, you didn't know."

There was an awkward pause, as Rachel struggled with what to say. Grasping at straws, she latched on to the only thing that came to mind. "So, which one is your father? It's not every day I get to meet a man who can actually do braids."

"He's over there in the light blue shirt talking to one of those real pretty brown girls that came with you."

Rachel smiled, thinking the twins would get a kick out of that description. Looking over at where Hailey was pointing, however, she found herself pleasantly surprised. There was Chloe talking with the tall, good looking man that helped her get onboard and he seemed to be relaxing like a passenger. Confused, she turned back to the young girl.

"I thought your dad worked for the tour boat company."

Hailey laughed. "No, Dad and Mr. Morris – that's the big guy over there with the woman in the pink hat – they just went to help Captain Jim and Brett when they saw all those news people pestering you."

"Oh." Rachel shrugged and then laughed, as well.

Before long, the two of them were chatting away like old friends. For Rachel, it proved to be a very educational time. She'd been feeling quite the landlubber but Hailey clued her in to some of the nautical terms she'd been missing. They were indeed sitting on the deck – or more correctly, the foredeck – next to the mast (she felt like a complete idiot for not remembering that one), and their feet were dangling on the trampoline. That last one didn't sound right but the girl was pretty insistent that's what she was told, so Rachel took her word for it. It probably was just peculiar to catamarans.

She heard a lot about surfing and also discovered that Hailey was a wealth of knowledge when it came to whales. She was in the midst of learning about humpback songs and the fact that only the males do the singing when Hailey suddenly jumped up with a delighted squeal.

"Look, dolphins!" she cried out, pointing to the water in front of the boat.

Sure enough, when Rachel stood, she could see several dolphins swimming and jumping out of the water – as if they were inviting the big catamaran to follow them.

"I've got to get my camera!" And just like that, Hailey was gone.

Mesmerized, Rachel just stayed at the rail, watching the aquatic mammals cavorting and playing like they didn't have a care in the world.

"Oh, to be that free!" she murmured.

And in that quiet moment, she felt all the weight of her present life come crashing in again. Modeling had been a lot of fun in the beginning – all the glitz and glamour and traveling to exotic locales – but it had long since lost its luster. In fact, this was the first trip – in she couldn't remember how long – where she actually saw something other than the airport, her hotel room, and the shoot location.

She inwardly groaned. Here she was at thirty-three and all she had to show for it was a failed five year marriage, no children, a jerk of an ex-husband, a seldom used apartment in New York, and a fading career. Oh, she intellectually knew there were positives – like the fact that she was still in demand at her age and had become quite a successful businesswoman over the years – but right now the negatives were looming awfully large.

"Come on, Dad! You can see them better up here."

Rachel's solitary pity party rapidly came to end, however, when Hailey returned with her father in tow. A tall man with broad shoulders, a fairly muscular build, and closely cut brown hair, he was rather handsome. Oh, he was no male model, but she thought that was a good thing – being as they tended to be rather arrogant, vain, and gay. She tucked her own personal doom and gloom off to the side and offered him a friendly smile as he approached.

"I never did thank you for helping me earlier," she remarked, gaining a better appreciation for his height – he was easily eight or nine inches taller than her own 5'10" – as he drew closer.

Hailey's father shook his head. "There's no need, Ms. Vargas. It was my pleasure. Besides," he added with a boyish grin, "now, for my effort, any adult beverage I may want while we're out of the harbor is free of charge."

Her eyes playfully flashed at his humor. "It's Rachel – and here I thought you were a knight coming to my rescue," she teased, "but you had to go and ruin it."

She had to admit, she liked his eyes. Rachel was close enough to see they were a darker blue with what seemed to be flecks of gold in them. Then, when he smiled, the skin at the corners crinkled a bit. For some strange reason, she had an almost overwhelming urge to reach up and smooth the lines with her fingers, then run them sensuously along his cheek. "What an odd thing to think about," she silently marveled to herself.

"Pretty common enough thing for me to do, it seems, just ask my daughter," he admitted with a chuckle. "Oh, I'm Rance Steiger, by the way," he added, extending his hand, "short for Terrance."

Rachel met his large hand with her own. His grip was firm yet gentle. Odd thoughts bounced around her brain as their eyes met. Like what would his lips feel like on the back of her hand? Her fingertips? Her lips? Her collarbone? Her...

An exasperated sigh from the neglected picture taker soon broke the silence. "Hello, there are dolphins here!"

Rance released her hand with a laugh and patted his daughter on her head. "That there are, pumpkin. That there are."

Feeling like a spell had been broken, Rachel looked around only to find that nearly all the passengers had made their way to the front of the boat – including her three companions who were watching her with amused expressions on their faces. Thankfully, they didn't say anything – not that they really had the chance. With the arrival of the dolphins, all attention and activity on the boat for the next hour or more shifted to viewing the sea life.

Rachel, however, was clearly baffled by the erotic nature of her earlier thoughts. After a bit of reflection, she dismissed it all as merely an aberration.

"Obviously, it's been a rough couple of days," she rationalized to herself. "And the last time I was even with a man was ... was..." She mentally paused; eventually concluding that her inability to remember proved her point – even if it was just to herself. "Plus," she finally continued, "I haven't been around someone like him who is so ... well ... nice." It wasn't what she was really thinking but she decided to just leave it at nice.