They didn’t talk back, expecting her to say something witty or intelligent.
She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift to her shade house full of phalaenopsis. She knew what to do there, how to nurture her plants into awe-inspiring blooms. Why was it so hard for her to interact with real, breathing, talking human beings? Her mother and father had built Green Gully Orchids by making friends all over the world at shows and conferences, while she preferred to hide in the background and hope no one paid her the slightest attention. Why couldn’t she be more like her parents?
Javi had a body that belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine, but he was also the captain of this boat. She couldn’t snub him all week because she was tongue-tied. She had to interact with him, especially if she wanted to learn how to sail. The brochure hadn’t mentioned the lack of running hot water, but it had most definitely promised sailing lessons.
Cat took a swallow of delicious coffee. The captain might be prickly about his precious rules, but he could brew an excellent cup of caffeine.
She was on vacation, for goodness’ sake. They hadn’t even left the dock, and she’d already started thinking about her business. How ridiculous. Joan was right. She needed to relax. She needed to forget about one bad night ten years ago.
So why not go below and crawl into her bunk? She hadn’t meant to fall asleep on deck last night, but the rock of the boat had acted like a narcotic. The tequila probably didn’t hurt, either. Joan and Debbie wouldn’t be up for hours, particularly Deb, who’d imbibed an incredible amount of liquor.
Cat sighed and took another swallow of coffee. How would her friends feel this morning? Probably not so great. And how much fun would this trip be if Deb stayed drunk the whole time?
Cat stood, intending to make her way to her cabin, when a group of pelicans flew overhead in a perfect V-formation. She watched them glide out of sight and became caught by the beauty of the early morning, how the water reflected blurred profiles of the boats and their masts similar to an impressionist painting. A soft breeze ruffled her hair, and she took a deep breath of salt-laden air.
No, she wouldn’t go back to bed. She was wide-awake. Why not grab her camera and explore the area around the marina?
She slid on her boat shoes and hurried below. The door to Deb and Joan’s cabin remained closed, so she quietly entered her own and found her camera. On her return trip, she noticed the captain had laid out cups for her friends. He’d also poured the brewed coffee into a thermos to keep it warm.
So he wasn’t a total jerk. Joan’s ploy to finagle a free night on the boat had contributed to their initial problems. Hopefully things would flow more smoothly from now on.
She stuck her tiny digital camera into the pocket of her shorts, pulled on the line to get Spree closer to the dock and hopped off the boat. She’d noticed an interesting landscaping arrangement outside the restaurant, and she was always on the hunt for new ideas for show displays.
Halfway down the dock, Cat encountered a pelican with plastic fishing line wrapped around his huge pouch. She startled the bird into an ungainly waddle, so she stopped, staring in horror at his beak.
No way could he open his mouth to fish. Which meant he—or she—couldn’t eat and would soon starve to death. The pitiful thing already looked thin and weak.
Would he let her untangle the snare? As she moved toward the bird, he hurried away from her, flapping his wings.
Cat nibbled on her bottom lip, thinking. What could she do to help? She had to do something.
She fished out her camera and snapped a photo. Yeah, that’ll help him eat.
She glanced to the end of the long dock. What she needed was assistance, someone with expertise, but it was too early for the marina store to be open. She didn’t see anyone on the deck of any of the other boats close by.
The door to the one-story building where the captain had disappeared opened, and he emerged wearing shorts with dozens of pockets and a towel draped around his bare chest. His hair was wet, slicked back from his high forehead. As he grew nearer, she noted he hadn’t shaved but had trimmed his beard. He still reminded her of a pirate.
Javi grinned at her as he approached, and she again felt that delicious tug of attraction. What was it about this guy? No question he had a killer body, but so did a lot of men. Of course, normally when she met a man, he wore a little more clothing. The captain always seemed to be in a state of partial undress.
She pointed at the pelican. “Is there anything we can do to help that guy?”
The captain’s grin faded when he saw the bird. He cursed softly.
“Could we catch it and remove the line?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
The large brown bird, seeming to know he was being discussed, turned his back on Cat and Javi.
The captain reached into one of his many pockets and removed an instrument that looked like pliers. He handed them to Cat. She looked down at the metal device, which was warm from his body heat.
“Snips,” he said in explanation. “I’m seldom without them on Spree.”
Because something is always in need of repair? Great. “Do you have a plan?”
“Stay there,” Javi said. “Don’t make any loud noise or sudden movements.”
“So you’ve done this before?” Cat asked.
“Way too often. Fishermen all over the world cut and release that damned monofilament line, never thinking about the harm it does when tangled up with sea life.” He shook his head. “The ocean can be a scary place.”
Removing the towel from his shoulders, the captain moved to the other side of the bird. The pelican nervously eyed them, but Javi took slow, steady steps, almost in slow motion.
Just as the bird lifted his wings to fly away, Javi grasped him by his bill and held the bird against his body with the towel.
“You’re okay, boy,” the captain said in a soothing voice. “You’re okay.”
The pelican squirmed, but Javi kept him under control, never removing his hand from the bill.
“I didn’t see a hook,” he said. “Can you see one?”
Cat studied how the line looped around the bird’s bill. “No. I think he’s just all tangled up.”
“Good. Or else we’d have to call the rescue station.”
“Can he breathe with you holding him like that?” she asked.
“I’m not holding him that tightly. Are you the nervous type?”
“What?” Cat looked at Javi rather than the bird. Actually, she was. Was it that obvious?
“I need you to cut the line while I’ve got him restrained. Can you do that? Like maybe now.”
Cat took a deep breath, her gaze back on the struggling animal. “As long as you hold him so he doesn’t bite me.”
“Trust
