Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [38]
Terns circled directly overhead as the sailboat cut through the water, gliding on updrafts. The sails rumbled loudly as they moved with the wind. Water rushed along the side of the boat. Everything seemed to be in motion as they moved under the graying North Carolina sky.
Theresa crossed her arms and reached for the sweatshirt she had brought along. She slipped it on, glad that she had brought it. Already the air seemed a lot cooler than it had when they’d left. The sun was dropping faster than she expected, and the fading light reflected off the sails, casting shadows across most of the deck.
Directly behind the boat, the rushing water hissed and swirled, and she stepped closer to take a better look. Watching the churning water was hypnotic. Keeping her balance, she put her hand on the railing and felt something that had yet to be sanded. Looking carefully, she noticed an inscription carved into the railing. Built in 1934—Restored in 1991.
Waves from a larger boat passing in the distance made them bob, and Theresa made her way back toward Garrett. He was turning the wheel again, more sharply this time, and she caught a quick smile as he motioned toward the open sea. She watched him until the boat was safely clear of the inlet.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, she had done something completely spontaneous, something she couldn’t have imagined doing less than a week ago. And now that it was done, she wasn’t sure what to expect. What if Garrett turned out to be nothing like she had imagined? Granted, she would go home to Boston with her answer… but for now, she hoped she wouldn’t have to leave right away. Too much had happened already—
Once there was enough distance between Happenstance and the other boats, Garrett asked Theresa to hold the wheel. “Just keep it steady,” he said. Again he adjusted the sails, seemingly in less time than it had taken before. Taking over, he made sure the boat was headed up-weather, then tied a small loop in the jib line and looped it around the capstan in the wheel, leaving about an inch of slack.
“Okay, that should do it,” he said, tapping the wheel, making sure it would stay in position. “We can take a seat if you want.”
“You don’t have to hold it?”
“That’s what the loop is for. Sometimes—when the wind is really shifty—you have to hold the wheel the whole time. But we got lucky with the weather tonight. We could sail in this direction for hours.”
With the sun descending slowly in the evening sky behind them, Garrett led the way back to where Theresa had been sitting earlier. After making sure there wasn’t anything behind her that might snag her clothes, they sat in the corner—she on the side, he against the back—angled so that they could face each other. Feeling the wind in her face, Theresa pulled her hair back, looking out over the water.
Garrett watched her as she did it. She was shorter than he was—about five feet seven, he guessed—with a lovely face and a figure that reminded him of models he had seen in magazines. But even though she was attractive, there was something else about her that caught his eye. She was intelligent, he could sense that right away, and confident, too, as if she were able to move through life on her own terms. To him, these were the things that really mattered. Without them, beauty was nothing.
In a way, when he looked at her, he was reminded of Catherine. Especially her expression. She looked as though she were daydreaming as she watched the water, and he felt his thoughts wandering back to the last time they had sailed together. Again he felt guilty, though he did his best to push aside the feelings. He shook his head and absently adjusted his watchband, first loosening it, then tightening it back in its original position.
“It’s really beautiful out here,” she finally said as she turned toward him. “Thanks for inviting me along.”
He was glad when she broke