“I’ve refinished my share of woodwork,” she said with a shrug. “It’s been a while, but I liked it. Loved it, actually. It was so satisfying to see the ugly transformed to beautiful again.”
She might be a stranger, but he understood a little about her already. Zeke pointed to the store. “As it happens, I have the tools and supplies you’d need to take on that job.”
“I just bet you do.” She patted a bronze fitting at the base of the canopy. “I’ll bet you have what I’d need to make this tarnished old bronze gleam in the sunshine.”
“Donovan Marine Supply at your service.”
She gave him a long look and stepped back aboard the boat. The air vibrated around him, like a low buzz. What? Zeke didn’t even believe in that sort of thing. Electricity in the air and all that. Except in a real thunderstorm. Or did he? As of this minute, maybe it wasn’t so impossible for the air to feel charged.
He cleared his throat to help him refocus. “We have power on the dock,” he said to bring himself back to practicalities, “so you wouldn’t have to run the engine to keep the refrigerator and lights on. And as you saw, the boat has a separate shower.”
She flashed an excited smile. “It’s got everything.”
“You can use the washing machines in the mudroom in the back of the store. The second floor is like an oversize storage shed now, but it used be an apartment. I grew up in that place above the store. My dad and I live in a house down the street.”
“Oh, so you live with your dad?”
“No, my dad lives with me.” He played that statement back in his mind, knowing how annoyed he’d sounded.
Her face registered frank surprise “Sorry...I guess.”
Zeke needed to explain, but that was complicated. Instead he waved her off. “Don’t mind me. Let’s get on with the arrangements.” Ideas were coming fast now. “How about a barter deal? You and Brooke live aboard Drifting Dreamer for the summer. You’ll make a start at getting the boat back in shape—cosmetically, anyway. I’ll keep you in supplies.” Grinning, he added, “And plenty of running water from Nelson’s dock.”
“You mean we could live here for free?”
“Of course, for free.” He paused. “Really? You thought I’d charge you?” He brushed his hand across peeling varnish on the cabin. “And I’ll certainly pay you for the hours you put in.”
“Pay me?”
“Well, yes. This is a big undertaking.” A new question came up. “I didn’t think to ask. Do you have a job now?”
“Nope. I thought I might look for something part-time. Maybe see if one of the shops needed extra help for the tourist season. Mostly, I’m concentrating on getting set up here in Two Moon Bay and making sure Brooke is adjusting and all that. But I’ll keep sending my résumé out as well, I suppose. The thing is...”
She stopped talking and with her forehead knitted in a deep frown, she stared off into space. He didn’t know how to finish her sentence, but apparently, neither did she. But this woman he barely knew was fired up to make a change. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind specifically, but somehow, he understood.
The sound of his cell phone interrupted his train of thought. He looked at the screen. His dad. Not a crisis, just a customer with questions. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”
She glanced at him with a faraway look in her eyes, as if the phone had startled her out of her private thoughts. “I won’t.”
He hurried off the boat, but Teddy stayed curled up out in the sun on the deck. Zeke smiled. That dog had found his second home. As he opened the door to the shop, he was still in a daze. From the looks of things, it wasn’t going to be the same old kind of summer.
* * *
THE LIST-MAKER SIDE of Andi was fully engaged. Almost too much so. Jobs swirled through her head looking for a place to land on her priority list, starting with happily canceling the reservation at the Sleepy Moon Inn. Minor decisions about what to pack and move aboard, and what to stash away in storage, were mixed up with the details of the gigantic job of making Drifting Dreamer livable in the next couple of days.
Ready to jump out of her skin, both excited and nervous, she warded off the questions coming from inside her about the wisdom of her decision. How could she explain the impulse to dive into a job like this? Until this surprise had come along this morning, she’d all but forgotten the buzz and tingle in her body that an unexpected stroke of luck could bring. It filled her with so much energy she had to do something to burn it off.
After downing half a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, Andi put her bike in the rack on the back of her car and drove south down Night Beach Road until it curved and merged with the county road that led to the beach at Sibley State Park, only a quarter mile away. The line of cars on the side road provided plenty of company on the perfect seventy-degree day. She walked her bike out of the parking lot and started pedaling at the start of the dirt bike path that wound through several miles of dense forest.
She inhaled deeply, nearly euphoric from the damp earthy scents filling her nostrils that were the opposite of the stale odor that had permeated the boat. Drifting Dreamer may have been closed up for decades. As Andi slowed her pace, her body buzzed from exertion, but she was also filled with the energy of hope. In her small way, she’d bring Drifting Dreamer to life, starting with airing the boat to banish the stale smell. She’d fling open the portholes. Right. She smiled at the image of herself flinging bronze portholes wherever. But she’d certainly open them as wide as she could. Her mind jumped ahead to the process of restoring the wood, the fixtures—everything. Like Zeke had said, he had the tools she’d need for each job.
Zeke. Now he was a puzzle. An appealing, attractive puzzle. And none of her business. But she couldn’t deny the unfamiliar feelings he’d brought up. The sense of fun, teasing, joking about Teddy. She’d had trouble keeping her eyes off of him. Even at five-ten, she’d had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye—light brown and very warm eyes. His full head of unruly dark blond hair suited him, somehow matched his casual jeans and the T-shirt with the store’s logo on it.
Their time together that morning had been interrupted by a call on his cell from his dad and Zeke has asked her to wait while he hurried off to help deal with a customer. When he’d come back, he’d brought an outdoor electrical cord and tested the interior lights and the fridge. They’d started a list of mundane items, like light bulbs and ice trays. Together, they’d motored to Nelson’s fuel dock and flushed the water tanks,and Zeke showed her how to fill them. He’d checked all of the equipment on the boat against the spec sheet. A couple of exhilarating hours flew by, not only because she saw proof that Drifting Dreamer would be a fun temporary home, but, with her imagination clicking along, she also saw the yacht’s potential to make a comeback. Kind of like an old band getting back together to relive the glory days. Grinning at her comparison, she realized she was eager to dive into the work.
Watching Zeke, listening to him explain the controls on the hot water heater, she’d wondered about his other work. Restoration, he’d said. That piqued her interest. And why had he drifted away from it? Her word, not his.
After about five miles on the deserted dirt path, the woods ended and the paved path set
