showed up this morning and told me she was getting married…”
Ivan looked pained. “Lucy, my cook, is getting married? Does this have something to do with her being late?”
“Bingo.”
Pieces of the puzzle fell together in his mind. “And does this have something to do with your being here wearing a backpack?”
“Right again. You see, Lucy’s marrying a plumber…”
Ivan groaned. “I’ve got it figured out. Can you cook?”
“Of course I can cook.”
“For twenty-six people?”
“No sweat. Just point me to the microwave.”
The grin returned to Ivan’s mouth, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. At least Lucy had sent him someone with a sense of humor.
Stephanie’s pack slipped, and Ivan reached to get it, his hand momentarily trapped between the padded strap and the smooth, warm skin of her bare shoulder. He took a moment to enjoy the feeling and wondered what it would be like to kiss her. She had a very kissable mouth, he decided. Soft and feminine, perfectly shaped. Her eyes were blue and wary, shaded by a fringe of black lash and topped with eyebrows that looked like bird wings. The flush on her cheeks told him she was also feeling some attraction, and the set to her chin told him she had no intention of succumbing to it.
Just as well, he thought, hefting the pack onto his own shoulder. She was sort of an employee, and he made it a rule never to mix business and pleasure. Of course, he was the direct descendant of a famous pirate, and as such he was supposed to break a few rules now and then. He motioned toward the forward hatch. “I’ll show you to your quarters. Watch your head and always go down the ladder backward.”
Stephanie followed him belowdecks and found herself in a fairly large room that held the shape of the prow of the ship. Polished oak banquettes lined the walls and were spanned by a massive triangular table. Brass lanterns swung from the ceiling just as they must have a hundred years ago. A copper jug filled with wildflowers sat in the middle of the table, and red-and-white-checkered curtains fluttered from open windows.
“Breakfast and supper are usually eaten here,” Ivan said. “Weather permitting, we eat lunch topside.” He pointed to the back corner of the room. “This is the galley.”
Stephanie nodded, taking in the small sink, oak counter, black iron woodstove across from the sink, the spice racks lining the wall, pots, pans, utensils, and sprays of dried herbs hanging overhead. “Very cozy,” she said. “Where’s the kitchen?”
“The galley is the kitchen.”
Stephanie felt her heart stop. He had to be kidding. “Yes, but where’s the stove? Where’s the refrigerator? Where’s the food processor?”
Ivan’s mouth tightened a fraction of an inch. “This is the stove,” he said, pulling Stephanie into the tiny galley. “This is all we’ve got. Have you ever cooked on a woodstove?”
Who did she look like, Annie Oakley? Of course she’d never cooked on a woodstove. Until two months ago she’d lived in Jersey City. People didn’t cook on woodstoves in Jersey City. At least, not the people she knew. Most of the people she knew didn’t cook at all. She guessed that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, so she decided to lie. “Don’t worry,” she said, “woodstove is my middle name.”
Dollars to doughnuts she can’t boil water, Ivan thought. At least she had the guts to lie. He was thankful for that. It was a start.
“I have to go up to cast off. We’re already late getting out of the harbor.” He gestured to a short red curtain over one of the banquettes. “That’s your bunk. You can get settled in, and I’ll be back as soon as I can get free. Keep the coffee going, and you’ll probably want to take inventory of the food Lucy’s stored in for the week.”
What she really wanted to do was put her hands around Lucy’s neck and squeeze. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine down here… taking inventory.”
She took the backpack from Ivan and went over to check out the red curtain. Behind the curtain was a narrow bunk built into the wooden wall of the ship. It was nicely made up in crisp white sheets and a red plaid woolen blanket. Lucy’s belongings were neatly packed away in a small storage area over the bunk. Fortunately, she and Lucy were the same size, and it would be possible to supplement her meager wardrobe with Lucy’s meager wardrobe.
Stephanie went back to the