Free West Wind by Madeline Sloane Page B

to get her moving
so her hip mends properly. The doctors say it was a small fracture
and she's ready to try the walker."
    "Thank you, Shirley. I really appreciate what
you've done for her. May I speak with her?"
    "She's having a sponge bath right now and
then will eat breakfast. Can you call back in about an hour?"
    "Sure. Well, actually, it will have to be a
little later. I'm going to pick up my new boat."
    "How nice! You bought a new boat?"
    "Well, not really new. But she will be like
new when she's finished."
    Sabrina signed off and looked at the small
clock on her cell phone. It was a little after nine; she called Mr.
Blair and arranged to meet him again, this time with a mover.
    "That'll be fine, missy. You might want to
come over here a little sooner and get rid of the peeps. Unless you
want some chickens."
    "Mr. Blair; surely you will remove your
property from my boat."
    "I would if I could, girly, but I can't climb
no ladder and my eyesight isn't what it used to be."
    Sabrina gritted her teeth. Fine , she
thought, you old crook.
     
    * * *
     
    Sabrina bailed many buckets of greasy, black
water from the cabin, removed three hen's nests, and tossed eight
bales of hay from the boat by the time Brett Story arrived. He
efficiently maneuvered a tractor-trailer next to the barn then. He
climbed onto the truck bed, removed chains from a forklift and
drove it down the ramp, parking it by the sailboat. Then he hopped
off to study the Zephyrus. Once Brett had weighed his options, he
guided the long, padded blades of the forklift under the sailboat
and lifted it, swinging it effortlessly onto the long tractor bed.
Once again, Brett hopped off the forklift and then slung several
webbed straps across the boat, cinching it to the trailer. Next he
deposited the broken lead keel in front of the boat, then drove the
little forklift back up the ramp and attached the chains, securing
it to the tractor-trailer.
    The process took less than twenty minutes.
Looking at Sabrina, he shook his head. "You sure you want to do
this?"
    She handed him a check for $20,000. "I'm
sure."
    Now that he had the boat secure, Brett took a
moment to study Sabrina. "Didn't I see you last night at Maude's?
Weren't you … uh, didn't you and …"
    He stammered, suddenly realizing the
awkwardness of the situation.
    Sabrina's cheeks reddened. "Maybe. I had
dinner there last night," she said, looking away. "I'm Sabrina
Windham and this boat was designed and built by my grandfather, Don
Windham," she added, pride flushing her cheeks.
    Brett stared open-mouthed.
    Sabrina waited for another response but only
Brett's silence filled the gap.
    "Well, my grandfather and his partner, Derek
West," she amended. "I'm determined this boat will be restored and
like I said, I don't care what it costs. It's that important."
    Brett exhaled. "Right. Well, guess I'll be
off. I'm going to need you to come by the boatyard this afternoon
to sign some paperwork. No matter what you say, the boss will
insist on an estimate. He's particular about the paperwork." Brett
eyed the Zephyrus warily. "I think he's going to want to deal with
you, and your boat, personally."
    "No problem. What time is best for you?"
    Brett stepped up to the truck cab and opened
the door. "I'd say after three. We've got to do a survey first.
Then we can write up a list of priorities."
    "Great; see you then," Sabrina said, rubbing
her hand across the chalky, swollen belly of her boat. Without the
keel, the boat sat close to the ground. She grinned once more at
Brett. "Too late I'm afraid to 'run like hell.'"
    "They do get under your skin. Kinda like a
woman. Well, not in your case. Maybe. Ah, I better get a move on
before I put my foot deeper in my mouth."
    She winked at him. "Men; I prefer men. With
one exception," she said, stroking the boat once more.
    Sabrina stood beside Mr. Blair in the
overgrown weeds in his front yard as Brett drove the 18-wheeler out
of the barnyard and disappeared down the highway.
    "Well,