"Redemption's Run": Chapter 8 continues

A Star Tribune serialized novel by Jane Fredericksen

Chapter 8

The story so far: Kinney tests the waters with Ronnie.

"You took a step toward me. I smell rain in the air, but it won't amount to much, if anything. Quick shower. Around four o'clock, I think. Winds will pick up later…."

"They usually do," said Ronnie.

"Don't interrupt, I'm on a roll. Wind before the rain, after that it'll die off. Some powerboat is fueling at the dock — a '62 Cris-Craft. He's got a leak in his intake …"

She moved her hand to hover above his and noticed he began to tremble.

"Your hand is just over mine. Not touching yet. So close, like flame." His eyes flew open and he drew back, breathing heavily. "Stop. You've got to stop."

She laughed. "Why? You did it to me."

He closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths. "It's different for me."

And suddenly, she knew it was.

He seemed to recover. "I'm not done. You're not sure about your relationship with Vince. You want to keep your options open. You always keep space between you …"

Kinney opened his eyes. "And you don't wear his ring."

"You're not as good as you think," she warned. "You're reading way too much into this."

Kinney glanced at her hand. "Right about the ring, though, wasn't I?"

Ronnie reached inside her shirt and reeled out a gold chain, which she dangled before him. A large diamond engagement band swung at the end, like a pendulum. "I don't wear it on my hand when I sail. It catches on the sheets." She tucked ring and chain safely back into place.

Kinney shrugged. "Never said I was perfect."

"Now give me your hand. Let's finish this."

He looked worried. Good, she thought. But he stretched out his hand, palm up, slowly.

She took a scissors, clipped the edges of the gauze, tied them together and gave them a firm yank.

"Ow!" he yelled, recoiling. He looked like a whipped dog. "You said it wouldn't hurt. You promised."

Ronnie packed up the first-aid kit. "And you promised you wouldn't try anything. I stick to my promises — those that matter."

"So do I. Those that matter." His bitter tone surprised her and Ronnie wondered if she had touched some deep scar best left hidden.

Kinney tucked in the ends of the bandage. His attitude had changed. When he spoke, his voice was sullen. "Listen, thanks for your help. I can take it from here." He reached for the kit, but she held on a moment longer.

"You've got a rare gift, you know."

He shook his head. "It's no gift. I just pay attention." He touched the chain on her neck. "Some people don't. Some people don't know what they've got."

Ronnie gently moved his hand away. "Vince knows. He loves this boat, Kinney. And he knows how to take care of her."

"Does he?" Kinney gestured at the impeccable cockpit. "Her varnish shines, her brightwork gleams, but underneath the floorboards," he stomped for emphasis, "In the cabin, in her heart, she's got some dry rot starting. He doesn't see it yet, it's not obvious. But I pay attention."

Ronnie peered where he had indicated. "She looks fine."

"On the surface. Someone will find it eventually. Not him. Vince hires people to take care of her who would love her, if she were theirs. He can afford to do that."

"That's a petty thing to say."

"But true," Kinney placed one hand on the wheel, close to hers. "He doesn't sail her. He doesn't know how to set her free."

Ronnie laughed and moved her hand away. "You do, I suppose."

He shot her a sharp look. "I've learned to read the wind because I can't afford to buy it."

"You're jealous."

Kinney flushed, but he didn't back down. "Of course. Vince is a lucky guy. She's a once-in-a-lifetime chance."

Ronnie headed toward Redemption's gate. "You should be grateful he took a chance on you."

Tomorrow: Chapter 8 continues.