as my dad’s dog, but we’re both responsible for keeping the little stray.”
“The dog apparently has good instincts.” She flashed a beaming smile that once again showed her pretty white teeth.
He opened the padlock to the cabin doors and went down the wooden companionway into the saloon, or what he thought of as the main cabin. Andi followed close behind.
“What do you think? First...no, second impressions.” He was aware that being aboard Drifting Dreamer wouldn’t do much to alter an initial impression. It would probably only make reality hit home harder.
“I think this boat has a past,” she said, following him into the center main saloon, “and I’d sure like to know what it is. Simple curiosity, I guess.”
A past? Had she read his mind? That question had turned over and over in his mind last night. It had kept him wide-awake and thinking hard. From the moment he’d secured the dock lines, he’d wondered what this boat had been up to during her better days. It was a mystery he wanted to solve.
“I get it. I’ve been asking myself that, too. Unfortunately, we know very little, except what the spec sheet told us. She was built in 1939 in Duluth at the Metzger Boat Works. Pretty famous builders, those Metzgers. The listed owner is C. Peterson. We think the boat has been in the Great Lakes since her launch, but we can’t say for sure. Somehow, she ended up in the hands of Terrance Smyth—he’s the guy who owed my dad money.”
Andi gestured around the all-mahogany interior. “Someone named her Drifting Dreamer for a reason.”
He’d thought of that, too. “Not that long ago, someone bought the diesel engine and new pumps and other gear, including a propane stove, so that person must have intended to do something with her. The galley is ready to go. And the boat is seaworthy. Made it up here from Kenosha, anyway.”
“Maybe the plan was to get her running and then fix her up,” Andi said. “Kind of like the way we lived in the house while I worked on it.”
We? Who did that include?
“I’m guessing the deterioration and damage started decades ago.”
Andi wrinkled her nose as she continued looking around.
“The stale smell of a closed-up boat.” He led the way to the large wheelhouse, where the engine controls, the compass set in its bronze housing, the old-fashioned depth sounder and the newer radar were in place and ready to go.
“His new frontier,” Zeke said, pointing to Teddy, who’d wasted no time in sniffing the corners and wagging his tail in excitement. “Now that the dog has discovered the boat has an inside, he’ll want to make it part of his regular rounds.”
They went back into the main cabin and she continued studying the boat with a dreamy look in her big, dark blue eyes.
“Some people still call these areas of a boat the saloon,” he said, standing in the middle of what was the boat’s equivalent of a combination kitchen-dining area and living room. “Although that term only applies to high-end yachts. So maybe main cabin is more like it.” He noted that she was deep in thought, her full lips pursed in concentration.
“This certainly was a high-end yacht,” Andi said. “You could seat eight or ten people around the table.” She moved inside the largest stateroom. “And this is almost like a regular bedroom.”
“So is the other cabin in the bow. It has two single bunks,” Zeke said. “I was surprised to find bunk cushions still packed in the canvas covers they were delivered in.”
“Whoever had this boat built must have had quite a vision,” she said, running her hand down the once smooth wood of the hanging locker. She tugged on the handle of one of the double doors and it broke free. “This is more like an antique armoire than an ordinary closet. It’s as big as some of the closets I’ve seen in older houses. All this mahogany in a house would boost the price a notch or two.”
Only yesterday, he’d seen mostly the boat’s decay, but now, watching her study the fixtures, assessing everything, possibilities started clicking through his brain. He knew a thing or two about restoring buildings, and that’s what fixing up this boat would be about. Restoration. Drifting Dreamer could be more than presentable. She could be a classic gem again.
“You’re right about the quality of workmanship, and about vision, too. I wish we had better records. I know one thing for certain. No one builds this kind of yacht on a whim—or on a shoestring. And back in the hard times of the 1930s, any boat builder would have been happy for the business.”
Andi nodded in agreement. “My grandpa talked endlessly about the Depression. Not much call for luxury yachts, I imagine, except for the very rich and very lucky. But Drifting Dreamer is a fantastic name.” Again, Andi ran her hand across the wood, this time one of the bulkheads. “Lots of black blotches in the wood under the peeling finish.”
Suddenly self-conscious about staring at her long, graceful fingers in constant motion, he cleared his throat. “We haven’t chewed over all the options yet, but my dad and I have to figure out what to do with her. We could sell off fixtures and bronze fittings. I know a woman who buys salvaged wood to make one-of-a-kind mirrors and picture frames. That would bring some money.”
Andi’s mouth dropped open. Pointing to the floor, she said, “You mean you’d dismantle this boat?”
Whoa, what a reaction. But it was one solution and he’d defend it. “Well, yes, scrapping her is one option. We have to be realistic. The pieces could be way more valuable than the whole boat intact.”
“Unbelievable.” Andi shook her head and pursed her lips in disgust.
She disapproved? This woman who didn’t know the first thing about him? He shouldn’t care, but he did. “Uh, that was our first thought. But then we figured since the hull seems sound there may be some life in her yet.”
Andi nodded. “I’ll bet there is.”
Zeke decided to throw out another option. “We could also sell her as is.” What if she was an interested buyer? He shouldn’t immediately assume she couldn’t or wouldn’t buy a yacht. Even a derelict boat. What did he know about her? He glanced at the teak cabin floor, dried out and gray, but still sturdy. “My dad would probably like that plan better.”
Silence. At the mention of his dad, his words took on an unexpected sadness and hung in the air. Meanwhile Teddy’s nails clicked on the floor as he scurried across the cabin and broke the silence. Zeke heard himself breathe.
“I have a question.” She abruptly faced him full-on. “What would you charge to rent this yacht to someone? For the summer, I mean.”
“Rent? You mean to someone who wanted to live on Drifting Dreamer?”
She extended her hand and flashed an isn’t-that-obvious? look. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
What was with the sharp tone? He supposed he’d annoyed her by not taking her question seriously, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Why do you ask?”
Leaning to the side, her gaze traveled up and down the largest cabin, taking it all in. “The essentials are here, Zeke. The stove has barely been
