Storms of Passion (17 page)

Howard removed his glasses, wiping his spectacles with his hanky. “Amazing,” he said, a twinkle of excitement glowed in his deep-set brown eyes. “To think we’re only hitting the collision of the two storms now. It will be rough for the next few hours. The captain thinks we’ll be out of the worse of it by nightfall tomorrow, and if we’re able to keep the course, we should be clear by the next day.”

“What?” Vivian almost choked on her coffee. “You can’t be serious? What? We have to go through another day of this? What have we been going through so far if this isn’t
the storm
?”

Howard raised a hand in a peace offering, and hitched his glasses back around his ears. “That was the tropical storm that turned back toward the land, but there is a hurricane now to contend with from the south.” He adjusted his glasses, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Perhaps you want to join the other ladies.”

She shook her head. “Like hell,” Vivian said instantly, aiming for some bravado she certainly didn’t feel. When they made it through this, she wanted Tuck to know she had been brawn and strong. She didn’t want to walk away and think back about what she should have done. She wanted to be a part of it. “Captain Maclean says it’ll be a hell of a story to tell. I’m not missing the fun. Not on your life.”

“That’s a girl.” Howard smiled and left her to go check on his wife. “Captain MacLean’s presently running a course through the troughs of the waves, but at some point he has to turn the ship into the waves. When he does, he says we’ll have to brace ourselves for that will be the worst part.”

Vivian couldn’t believe what she was seeing when she went back on deck. Waves, seemingly as large as buildings, writhed on either side of the ship. She cringed at the thought of having to puncture the depths of one of those monsters to get through the storm. Passing over those waves seemed impossible. They were imposing rock walls, and the ship was a toothpick floating in a bathtub, waiting for a child to send it down the drain.

Nate moved toward her, his gait unsteady. “There she is.” He shouted to be heard. “You doing okay?”

Vivian nodded, sure her eyes were as big as saucers. Her fear of the waves and what she would face when she stepped over the threshold was holding her rooted to the spot. Words were beyond her for the moment.

Nate’s eyes, so much like his brothers, their color mirroring the consistency of the ranging ocean on either side, stared at her with concern.

“I’m fine,” Vivian said, finding her voice. “What can I do?”

Nate squeezed her shoulder and told her what was required. “Everything gets braced for the next assault. Double-check all the hatches. We check everything twice. Tie it down, tie it up, make sure it’s secure and don’t forget to tie yourself. The captain is watching the movement to time our transition through the wave from the trough we have been enjoying.”

“Oh…okay.” Vivian managed find her voice.

Connecting her harness, Vivian, along with others went about their jobs, sloshing, falling, listing, and generally trying to maintain footing. She was so cold, chilled to the very bone that she wasn’t sure if she would ever be warm again. She experimentally wiggled her toes in her new boat shoes, which didn’t look new anymore, just to know they were still working. She wondered how she ever could have been concerned with her planned outfit.
Look at me now. Clothes ruined and I’m scared out of my mind that I’m not going to make it back to shore.
Vivian tried to think of a really scary roller coaster ride—thrilled and scared for your life, but always came out the other side.
Maybe if I close my eyes tight the ride would be over.

Chapter Eleven

Vivian finished her checklist and returned to the wheelhouse to see yet another monstrous wave crash on the deck and flow over their heads. How much could this ship take before it succumbed to the weight of the water bearing it down? What would happen if the wood splintered? The logical side of her brain kicked in, and she remembered the safety drills. She was confident she would know what to do
if
it came to that. But if she was this scared on such a large vessel, what would it be like out on the open water with the gigantic waves bearing down on a lifeboat? In her present state of mind, it gave her no comfort to think about the what-ifs.

She did think about her mom, dad, and brothers. Her nephews would take good care of Snickerdoodle.
Stop-it!
She admonished the thought even as she pictured the faces of her nephews and two godchildren, Marcy’s kids. Closing her eyes, Vivian could hear their giggles. Tuck and his mesmerizing, silver eyes entered her thoughts. Her breathing deepened. Everything else faded like the flashes of lighting. Visions of Tuck remained in her mind’s focus and ironically the image of him calmed her.

Vivian was brought up short from her reverie by Randy’s authority voice. “We’re here,” he announced. “This is where the devil does his battle!”

Vivian shivered. That didn’t sound like a good place to be at all!

In a mere second, the situation went from bad to worse. Now mixed with driving rain, flashes of lightning and reverberating boom of thunder filled the sky. The howling wind picked up, and the vessel was tossed about as a child would hurl their soap during a bath. Unable to hold anything in her shaky hands, Vivian tucked the bottle of water in the side pocket of her yellow slicker.

Lightning flashed again and the boom of thunder soon followed.
So much for counting Mississippi’s to gauge the distance from the storm.
Flash with an instant crash surrounded the ship. Small bits of hail assaulted her along with the pelting rain. Holding tight to the railing, her feet were spread wide to accommodate the swaying of the ship.

Hearing a loud crack, Vivian quickly turned
.

Nate, the only one still out on deck, was sent to re-tie the canvas that had started to billow as a knot loosened in the driving wind and rain.

She reacted without thinking. Moving like a drunk on a late Saturday night, Vivian grabbed Captain MacLean’s arm. “It’s coming down!” She shouted as loud as she could to get his attention.

He turned his head to glance at her before focusing back on his task. “What?”

It’s no use. He can’t do anything. He’s needed at the wheel
.

Shouts of one sort or another were being bellowed. She left the captain and rushed to the door. She wrenched open the wheelhouse door and sloshed onto the deck, trying desperately to keep her footing, her drive to warn Nate propelling her.

Holding onto the railing to retain her footing, her shout was nothing more than a puff of air lost in the wind. “The mast! The mast is coming down!” She pointed at the weakening post.

A blinding blue-silver ball travelled down the pole and across the planks to bounce close to her feet as she struggled forward—almost bent to get through the pressure of the wind and pelting rain.
St. Elmo’s Fire!
Vivian had read about this phenomenon and knew enough to keep her distance, but that was easier said than done in present circumstances.
St. Elmo’s Fire
was lightning seeking a home to explode upon, frying everything in its wake.

Nate was exposed and she had to get to him. She reached for Nate’s towline as the ball scooted up the mast. Vivian was out of time. With all her strength, she pulled the line. Nate finally turned to her. He shouted something she couldn’t hear. She pointed to the climbing ball of fire and wrenched his rope again, waving one of her hands to motion him toward her and out of danger.

The wood splintered and once the ball exploded that mast would come down. She
had
to get Nate out of the path of the lightning ball and impending doom. When the mast fell, it would fall like an ancient oak in the forest, crashing everything in its path. She couldn’t let Tuck’s brother be in that pathway.

Nate slipped and slid toward her just as the Navigator plowed the crest of a wave. The captain would be unable to change course of the vessel despite what may be going on at this point.

Vivian stared as a spectacular accumulation of catastrophic events unfolded before her very eyes as though scripted in a movie scene. She pointed to the crack in the mast again. “It’s coming down! Get out of the way!”

Like fireworks in the air, the fireball exploded off the end of the pole. Pull as she might, Nate remained directly in the path of the falling mast and the wall water coming over the side. How in the world did she ever think this vessel was large? Surely to God that wave must be fifty-feet high and this ship not big enough to take that kind of hit.

Nate regained his footing only to fall again as Vivian retained hold of his line and the railing. She and Nate glanced up at the firework display, not one bit diminished by the water pour down. The post groaned loose on its end, moving with the motion of the boat. Then it started to topple in slow motion. Nate hadn’t cleared the path. Nate, with the same eyes as Tuck’s, would be a goner. Vivian must get him out of the way or that fate would be a certainty.

With strength she did not know she possessed, Vivian let go of the railing and with the line held tightly in both hands, heaved with all her might. Nate once again found his feet, both hands reaching for the life saving cable that slid and skidded across the deck toward her. Then the wave crashed down, taking the mast and them with it.

Nate was safely out of the path of the mast, but Vivian was lifted by the water, her feet no longer in contact with the ship. Nate flailed to reach her hands, managing to grab hold of one her wrists just as they were tossed off the side of the boat and into the ranging sea. One hideous wave replaced another crashing down in its place. Together, with a tangle of splintered wood, ropes, and rigging, they were flung free of the boat and into the boiling mass of cold, open ocean.

A wave, with the force of a swinging baseball bat, smashed into Vivian’s forehead. She saw stars and gulped for precious air, unable to distinguish between up or down. Grateful for the firm hold of Nate’s hand on her own, her other arm flailed in the roiling water as she tried to find the surface.
I can’t catch my breath
.
There is no surface
.

She heard shouts, but couldn’t place the direction. He ears filled with the gargle of the sea. Darkness with flashes of light filled her vision. In between the sparks, she saw Nate struggling as well.

Something was tangled around her leg. Vivian saw the coiling rope fixed to her ankle. The cable tightened with each kick of her foot as she tried to get unsnarled. She should stop kicking, but her need for air and the confusion over which way was up, only served to further ensnare her in the lines.

“Uggkk.” Bubbled from her lips as the dropping weight of the mast pulled her down into the cold, deep unknown. Panicked, she lifted her leg into a crouch to free the snare, but the wet cord wouldn’t unleash its grip. With each effort to tug her leg free, the rope tightened, digging more severely into her skin.
I’m not ready to go!
She frantically reached for Nate’s arm, but she couldn’t get hold as she continued to fall, spread eagle, dragging him along with her.

Then, like a buoy, her life jacket popped, springing her up out of the water. She gasped for the life giving air before the deep sea yanked her under again.
We are going down.
She was frantic surrounded in the blue-grey swirling water. An eerie calm descended as she broke to the surface again. She gulped all the air she could into her lungs and forced her mind to work. The first rule she had learned in her Bronze Cross swimming training was to stay calm when others were not.
Better said than done at this point
. Quivering as she might be on the inside, Vivian forced her flailing arms to relax.

Nate’s hand was like a death grip on her wrist. They made eye contact briefly before the next thousand pounds of water sent them under. She just barely saw the disappearing length of splintered timber, lines, and rigging fanning out like hair on a doll, the canvas having unrolled and floating free like a giant cape.

The tugging on her ankle increased. She was running out of time. Survival meant getting out of the snarl of ropes or she would never be able to buoy back up. Nate was tied to the boat by his harness, but she had run out of the wheelhouse so fast with only one thing on her mind, saving Nate. She hadn’t attached her harness. If she didn’t get free, they were both going down—fast.

Timing as much as she could, when next they surfaced she pulled on Nate’s hand. “I’m caught up in the rigging. I have to get my leg free or we’re going down!”

He nodded. “I’ve got my knife!” Nate shouted just before they were under again.

In his free hand he gripped a knife, but she couldn’t reach it, the the pull downward exhausting her slithering energy.
I’m out of time
. As tight as his hold was, he couldn’t drag the weight attached to her leg. Nate’s hand slipped on her wrist.
He can’t hold me!

It happened too fast. She saw the flash of metal catch on the lights from above the waterline and with a last ditch effort Nate flung the blade through the water in her direction. Reaching with the tips of her fingers, she missed and Nate’s grip was lost. Vivian was tugged downward out of his reach.

She reached for him, but the distance swelled. His life jacket pulled him to the surface as she went further down. The last thing she heard was him shouting
no
!

****

Tuck was monitoring boat traffic on the old fashioned CB radio tuned for boat traffic. His worse fear was realized when he upped the volume, his father’s voice relaying the first SOS.

“
Vessel in distress. Coordinates provided.”

Tuck swore his heart stopped, having never imagined any vessel under his father’s command would dare to be in distress.

Then the next SOS. “All available vessels within range to come to aid of sailing school tall ship taking on water. Two souls overboard. Coordinates provided. Repeat, two overboard.”

Tuck held his breath as another SOS came through. “All available hands are on deck. One life rescued from water. Another still missing. Storm not letting up. Vessel in distress. Coordinates provided. One life saved. One soul still missing at sea. Rescue attempt failed.”