Colony by Anne Rivers Siddons Page A

not cold. It’s very warm down here.”
    He smiled. It was the same smile, but all the Huckleberry Finn had seeped out of it.
    “It is, at that,” he said. “Why don’t you just skin out of that heavy damp sweater? There’s bound to be something dry around here that’ll fit you.”
    “I’m not wet, either,” I said.
    “Well, here’s to…good sailing, Mrs. Chambliss. Maude.
    Pretty Maude from way down South.” He drained the cup.
    “Whooeee. Just what the doctor ordered. You sure about that drink?”
    “Oh, yes, thank you,” I said. “Ah…how long have we been stopped? How long was I asleep?”
    “Don’t have my watch on and can’t see the sun for the fog, but I’d say it was around midafternoon,” he said. His voice was slower and thicker, and his eyes had drooped into slits.
    “Midafternoon! Parker, we have to go back,” I gasped.
    “Peter will be frantic, my mother-in-law will kill me—”
    “Sweet thing, the only way we could possibly go back now is for you to go out on the bow with a long stick and lie down and hold it straight out so you could feel any rocks before we hit ’em, and for me to steer absolutely blind, going by just what I remember of this coast and what you tell me. I remember a lot but I ain’t a genius, and you sure ain’t a sailor. It’s too dangerous. And it would take just as long as waiting it out here. So you might as well quit worrying and make yourself comfortable.”
    “I don’t like this one bit,” I said. I thought I might begin to cry soon.
    “It doesn’t have to be so bad,” he said. “It could be fun. I can think of a way to make the time pass real quick.”
    I felt my cheeks flame and crossed my arms over my sweater. I knew that the wet fog had molded it to my breasts.
    I looked at the basket.
    “You said something about lunch.”
    “Feel free,” he said, not moving. “There’s probably some sandwiches in there, if you can stand pimento cheese. You’d think after four years Amy would catch on to the fact that I hate pimento cheese. And there’s sure to be apples. Old Amy never goes anywhere without apples.”
    “Can I get you anything?”
    He held up the bottle. It was more than two thirds empty.
    He must have been drinking steadily ever since I came below the first time.
    “Got everything I need,” he said. “Almost everything, that is.”
    I ate my sandwich, looking interestedly around the cabin as if I’d never seen it before. How on earth was I going to get through the time until we could get under way again?
    Could he even get under way, after that much whiskey?
    “Tell me about the Circe, ” I said brightly. “It’s a beautiful boat.”
    “Damn right,” Parker said. “Had old Willis custom make it for me. All custom, even the bunks. Softest bunks in the State o’ Maine. Everybody says so. Come over here, Maude of my heart, and I’ll show you how soft these bunks are.”
    “Parker…”
    He got up off his bunk swiftly and came over to mine and dropped down beside me. Before I could even move his arms were around me, pinning me down, and his wet, loose mouth pressed hard over mine. His tongue probed at my teeth, and his right hand reached around under my sweater and cupped my breast.
    I wrenched myself out from under him in one
    motion, like a frantic snake, with strength I did not know I had. He was very heavy, and his arms were hard with muscle.
    I pulled my arm back as far as it would go and slapped him across the face so hard that my palm hurt badly. He stared at me, eyes narrow and unfocused, the white print of my hand livid on his face. A narrow thread of blood started down across his chin from his lip.
    I picked up the heavy metal thermos.
    “If you touch me again I’ll hit you with this,” I said.
    My voice was without breath and ridiculous. My arms and legs shook badly. It was an entirely useless threat, and I knew it. He was much stronger than I, and I was trapped with him in this cabin who knew how far out on this