and high-fived Linette, who perked up immediately. Debbie edged over towards Melanie, who looked relieved.
“Can we use handcuffs?” Becca asked innocently, and Taren yelped.
“Yes, for you ,” Taren shot back.
“If necessary.” A smile played around Rachel’s lips. “Okay. That’s it. Let’s get going.”
“Alan said he was going to get his neighbor to come on over with his boat,” Prisca announced, wiggling into her dress.
“How old is he? The neighbor?” Taren asked.
“Nineteen. And he’s not a Christian. At least, he doesn’t go to church. But he has a red speedboat,” Prisca boasted. Rachel downed a tiny sigh within herself. No more time with Taylor, she foresaw. Tonight, she would be guard-dogging her younger sister aboard a red speedboat.
Well, maybe that’s all right. She resigned herself. Give Cheryl a chance to talk to Taylor. He’s a fairly decent guy. Despite his nighttime rebellion, he was the sort of guy who would straighten out eventually, probably go for baptism to become a full member of the church. The kind of guy who would interest Cheryl.
The neighbor was named Kirk, and he turned out to be a lean, hawk-like sort of guy, not really good-looking, with a fierce haircut and a beady eye. She figured he was a local hick, but decided to tolerate him.
She and Prisca were alone with him in the speedboat, and Prisca was chattering and flirting outrageously. Rachel only stepped into the conversation to break her sister’s momentum. She was a bit embarrassed for Prisca, but Kirk seemed to find Prisca amusing and not really interesting. Rachel could tell Kirk was more interested in herself.
To pass the time, she kept looking out at the other boats. The buddy system meant that Alan and Keith had full boats—five and six total, respectively, while Cheryl (with Brittany) had Taylor all to herself. It was awfully lopsided. What we need , she thought, are six boats. If only we had our own boat.
“Whatch you thinking?” Kirk asked her. Prisca had run out of things to say and was sitting breathless, looking out at the water.
Rachel decided to alter her thoughts. “I wish I knew how to drive a boat,” she said, lowering her lashes.
“Want to learn? ‘Seasy. I’ll show you. Move over here.”
Rachel wondered if he was going to use this as an attempt to put his arms around her, but Kirk was apparently not so fast. He sat back and named the parts of the boat—the throttle, the clutch, the steering—she paid attention and started to learn.
Pretty soon she was cautiously applying pressure on the gas and chugging gently over waves. “That’s it,” Kirk said over the engine. “Give her more power.”
Rachel did, and was enthralled at the response of the engine and the speed. Soon she was slicing through the waves while Prisca yelped and clutched the side.
“You’re a natural!” Kirk yelled delightedly. When she finally stopped, breathless, she grinned, momentarily breaking her reserve.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Man, you’re a bit of a wild thing after all, you are,” he said appreciatively. She knew he was right, but chose not to respond, merely smiled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Prisca was insanely jealous. Perhaps this partnership was going to be more trouble than it was worth.
CRACK!
As soon as he heard the sound, Paul knew that something bad had happened. Swiftly catching all the other clubs in his hands, he stared at the one he had dropped and the rock protruding from the ground which had split it from top to bottom.
Trying to suppress his frustration, he sat down, wiping the sweat from his brow. He picked up the broken club and tried to put the pieces back together. It was damaged, badly.
What made it worse was that these were the hand-carved wooden clubs he had borrowed from a friend, since they fit in with the Colonial period more than his plastic ones. Well, there was nothing to do now except pick up the pieces and try
“Can we use handcuffs?” Becca asked innocently, and Taren yelped.
“Yes, for you ,” Taren shot back.
“If necessary.” A smile played around Rachel’s lips. “Okay. That’s it. Let’s get going.”
“Alan said he was going to get his neighbor to come on over with his boat,” Prisca announced, wiggling into her dress.
“How old is he? The neighbor?” Taren asked.
“Nineteen. And he’s not a Christian. At least, he doesn’t go to church. But he has a red speedboat,” Prisca boasted. Rachel downed a tiny sigh within herself. No more time with Taylor, she foresaw. Tonight, she would be guard-dogging her younger sister aboard a red speedboat.
Well, maybe that’s all right. She resigned herself. Give Cheryl a chance to talk to Taylor. He’s a fairly decent guy. Despite his nighttime rebellion, he was the sort of guy who would straighten out eventually, probably go for baptism to become a full member of the church. The kind of guy who would interest Cheryl.
The neighbor was named Kirk, and he turned out to be a lean, hawk-like sort of guy, not really good-looking, with a fierce haircut and a beady eye. She figured he was a local hick, but decided to tolerate him.
She and Prisca were alone with him in the speedboat, and Prisca was chattering and flirting outrageously. Rachel only stepped into the conversation to break her sister’s momentum. She was a bit embarrassed for Prisca, but Kirk seemed to find Prisca amusing and not really interesting. Rachel could tell Kirk was more interested in herself.
To pass the time, she kept looking out at the other boats. The buddy system meant that Alan and Keith had full boats—five and six total, respectively, while Cheryl (with Brittany) had Taylor all to herself. It was awfully lopsided. What we need , she thought, are six boats. If only we had our own boat.
“Whatch you thinking?” Kirk asked her. Prisca had run out of things to say and was sitting breathless, looking out at the water.
Rachel decided to alter her thoughts. “I wish I knew how to drive a boat,” she said, lowering her lashes.
“Want to learn? ‘Seasy. I’ll show you. Move over here.”
Rachel wondered if he was going to use this as an attempt to put his arms around her, but Kirk was apparently not so fast. He sat back and named the parts of the boat—the throttle, the clutch, the steering—she paid attention and started to learn.
Pretty soon she was cautiously applying pressure on the gas and chugging gently over waves. “That’s it,” Kirk said over the engine. “Give her more power.”
Rachel did, and was enthralled at the response of the engine and the speed. Soon she was slicing through the waves while Prisca yelped and clutched the side.
“You’re a natural!” Kirk yelled delightedly. When she finally stopped, breathless, she grinned, momentarily breaking her reserve.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Man, you’re a bit of a wild thing after all, you are,” he said appreciatively. She knew he was right, but chose not to respond, merely smiled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Prisca was insanely jealous. Perhaps this partnership was going to be more trouble than it was worth.
CRACK!
As soon as he heard the sound, Paul knew that something bad had happened. Swiftly catching all the other clubs in his hands, he stared at the one he had dropped and the rock protruding from the ground which had split it from top to bottom.
Trying to suppress his frustration, he sat down, wiping the sweat from his brow. He picked up the broken club and tried to put the pieces back together. It was damaged, badly.
What made it worse was that these were the hand-carved wooden clubs he had borrowed from a friend, since they fit in with the Colonial period more than his plastic ones. Well, there was nothing to do now except pick up the pieces and try
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