SHIPWRECKED!              Susan G.

   Carolyn Muir had signed up the children for sailing lessons in the summer, then had decided to take them herself as well.  She wanted a better understanding of the Captain's life at sea, although she was sure that the small boats used by the Yacht Club bore no resemblance at all to the tall ships of the Captain's day.  The three Muirs had had a lot of fun over the summer.  The children learned on Optis, one- masted boats excellent for youth under the age of sixteen.  Carolyn learned on Albacores, which the Yacht Club had imported from a Canadian builder, who, in turn, had imported the design from Great Britain.  Jonathan had picked up the skill quickly, and Candy was not far behind.  Finding it a little more difficult than her children, Carolyn was not sure whether it was because of the difference in the boats, or whether she was just not as agile and quick as she used to be!  She had been nonplussed a few times when the Captain had decided to come with her on her small sailboat.  Disdaining the two-sail design, the Captain referred to it as a floating, rather leaky bathtub.  He had leaned back in the bow and made occasional comments which infuriated her as she tried to tack and steer and whatever else was required by her instructor.  Once she had been so annoyed that she had deliberately and with malice aforethought steered straight for the big waves from a yacht leaving the harbour, and the water had poured over the gunwales of the smaller boat, drenching herself but also giving the Captain a surprise bath.  The look on his face had made her double over in laughter, and she hadn't minded the soaking or the subsequent bailing or the stern lecture from her instructor at all.
  Now it was the first weekend of September.  Carolyn's parents had come to Schooner Bay for the holiday weekend, and gone with Jonathan and Candy to Boston for the day, intending to stay overnight at a hotel and return in the morning.  Martha had taken the opportunity to visit her sister in Florida, leaving Carolyn alone in Gull Cottage to finish the article she was currently working on.  When at last she typed the final words, she almost leaped up from her chair in joy at being released from the typewriter.  As she stretched, she noticed the telescope turning slightly.
   "Good afternoon, Captain."
   He materialized instantly.  "Good afternoon, Mrs. Muir.  I trust I did not disturb you?"
   "No.  I'm finished.  FINALLY." she grinned.  "And I have a craving for some fresh air.  Would you care to join me if I go for a sail?"
   "Now?" he was surprised, and turned an experienced eye to the outdoors.  "It appears a storm is brewing..."
   "Nonsense!  It's a beautiful day, and the weatherman says it's to remain clear." Carolyn argued.  "Come on, please?"
   Knowing he was lost when she resorted to begging, the Captain quashed down his apprehensions and nodded.  "Very well, Madam."
   "I'll just change into my bathing suit..." Carolyn began. 
   A disapproving frown came over the Captain's face.  "You're going out in public in that low-cut handkerchief?  I told you before..."
   "Captain, I have told YOU before that it is a perfectly respectable bathing suit!  AND I mean to wear my lace coverup over top.  AND we won't exactly be in public, we'll be out in the middle of the bay on a sailboat!" Carolyn glared at him, her hands on her hips.
   "That tiny ..." he began to disparage the small crafts yet again. Catching the glint in her eye, however, he swallowed his words and said, "I will meet you downstairs, madam," before disappearing.
   Quickly changing into her ivory bathing suit, Carolyn grabbed her
coverup and stepped into running shoes.  She ran down the stairs, and rummaged in her purse for car keys and money to rent the boat.  The Captain stood by her side, eyeing her skeptically, but she ignored the look.
   "Ready?" she asked brightly.
   He inclined his head, and they went out the door.  At the Yacht Club, Carolyn knew the Captain was beginning to steam when the young man kept his eyes on her bare legs.  As soon as the man had indicated which sailboat Carolyn could have, he had to rush away to stop another boat that suddenly seemed bent on smashing itself against the pier.  Shaking her head, Carolyn put on her life jacket, untied her Albacore and cast off. 
   The Captain seemed to have gotten his good humour back after playing the trick on the worker at the Club, and his eyes twinkled as he looked at Carolyn.  "You realize, of course, that you look like a pumpkin in that jacket."
   Carefully pulling up the sails and heading out past the other boats, Carolyn didn't have time to answer him.  Once out in open water, she grinned.  "I may look like a pumpkin, but it'll keep me afloat if we capsize."
   Looking again at the rather rough waters, the Captain nodded almost grimly.  "And that IS a distinct possibility."
   Again, Carolyn ignored his weather warnings.  Her eyes sparkling, she laughed aloud with the sheer joy of skimming over the water.  The Captain, leaning back, found he couldn't keep his eyes off her.  He gazed at her bright eyes which were the same translucent green as the sea, her vivid face, framed by windblown blonde hair, then his look swept down to her slender legs which looked even longer under the hip- length coverup.  Admiring her trim calves and ankles, he suddenly realized where his thoughts were leading him, and he forced himself to look away.
   "Captain?" her voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up at her again.  "Tell me more of YOUR stories of the sea?"
   Allowing himself to be lulled into a false sense of security, the Captain settled himself more comfortably, and began to weave his tales.  Carolyn listened spellbound, absentmindedly keeping the rudder straight and the ropes taut. 
   Suddenly the wind died, and the sails hung limp.  Carolyn looked up in astonishment, and around.  She could see what appeared to be an island in the distance, but the mainland was only a smudge on the horizon.  The Captain bit off an expletive, his eyes on the dark line in the distance.
   "The storm!" he said, his voice harsh.  "Coming too fast, and we have no way to outrun it!"
   Openmouthed, Carolyn sat and watched the thunderclouds streaming toward them like a broiling wall of gray.  She had never experienced anything like it.  In no time, the blue of the sky was blotted out.  The tiny sailboat just rode the waves, the wind had vanished.  The clouds were hanging so low to the water that Carolyn knew in a few seconds they would be enveloped in them.  The Captain was busy tying the sails as small as possible ... leaving just enough to give them the ability to steer.  The first breath of wind came, just a puff, and the Captain directed Carolyn to steer the small craft about, heading it directly into the face of the approaching fury. 
   Then the storm hit, and the tiny boat was tossed against the waves with violence.  Carolyn was terrified and white-faced, but her eyes were steady as she followed the Captain's shouted orders.  She had complete trust in him that he would do all he could to save her.   Great torrents of water poured over the sides, so cold it made her gasp.  She was tired from holding on so tightly, bruised from being knocked about, deafened from the horrible shrieking of the wind.  Suddenly an earsplitting crack shuddered through the boat, and in despair, Carolyn realized they must have come up against the rocks on the island she had seen earlier.  Another wave rolled up and over, and the Albacore seemed to disintegrate underneath her.  She tried to jump away from the boat, but became entangled in the ropes and sails.  The last thing she heard was a hoarse cry from the Captain, "Carolyn!"
   Then she was in the water, being tossed against rocks herself, spluttering and gasping as she tried to snatch breaths of air between being pounded by the waves, choking as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of water.  The sail had settled over her, and she was fighting to get out from under it.  Her feet had become tied up in the ropes, and she could feel them scraping across her bare flesh.  Then  another wave dashed her into the rocks and Carolyn hit her head and knew nothing more.
   "Carolyn!  Carolyn!" the voice was husky and low, but it dragged her back from the darkness.  She knew she should know the voice, she could hear the love and the anguish in it, but it hurt to think.  Then it came again, "Blast it, woman, you must open your eyes!"  The Captain?  Calling her by her first name?  What...?  Oh yes, they had been sailing ... oh, she ached ...
    With supreme effort, Carolyn opened her eyes, and beheld the Captain's face close to hers.  Instantly he sat back on his heels, and his voice gentled.  "How are you feeling, my dear?"
   "Sore." Carolyn croaked.
   "You have a nasty bump on your head."
   "Hurts." she could only manage the one word. 
   "I can try to heal it a little..." the Captain bent forward again, and she knew he was pressing his lips to her temple where the pain was excruciating.  She felt the faintest touch, like the wings of a butterfly on her skin, then the worst of the pain began to ease almost instantly.  Her eyes closed in wonder, then opened again and she gazed into the Captain's incredibly blue eyes.
   "Captain..." she breathed.  His face was only inches from hers ... if she raised her head fractionally, her lips would touch his.  Then an electric shock seemed to hum through her.  What was she thinking?  They couldn't touch!  She shut her eyes, gathering herself together, and knew he had moved back.
   When she could stir again, she carefully sat up and looked around, and saw a world transformed.  The storm was passed, and the world was sane once more.  The sea was still impassably rough, she could hear it dashing against the shore, but the wind had eased tremendously, and a pinkish ray of light was coming through the clouds low on the horizon.  That faint ray of sunset almost hurt her eyes.  She felt encrusted in salt, and every muscle ached, but she was alive. 
   "Where are we?" it hurt to talk.  She looked down and realized she was no longer wearing her life jacket.  "What...?"  Her lacy coverup was shredded along the bottom edge, the short sleeves ripped as well.  Her legs were a mass of bruises and scrapes, and she had lost her runners.
   "We're on an island ... a number of miles from the mainland." the Captain spoke.  "When I finally got you ashore, you were sick ... must have been all that seawater you were gulping!  I removed your life jacket ... it had done its job, and was just bulky and in the way once on firm land."
   Carolyn swallowed.  "Thank you," she said, faintly.  Whispering was much easier on her throat.  It felt raw.  Probably the result of salt water and being sick besides!  She shivered in the cool, stiff breeze.  The Captain's eyes sharpened, and he ran a quick glance over her, studiously avoiding her legs.
   "You're cold.  I'll see if I can find some wood ... there's blasted few trees on this rock...!"  He turned away abruptly.
   Hugging her knees to her chest, Carolyn curled up on the rocky ground again, thankful the Captain had pulled her away from the water.  Even so, the waves were enormous still, and the spray seemed to come right over the island in a faint mist.  She was so tired...
   "Mrs. Muir!" the Captain's voice sounded in her ear, and she stirred, not wanting to open her eyes.  "Madam, you must not sleep!  That knock on your head ... Mrs. Muir!"
   "Carolyn..." she murmured, sleepily.  He had called her that before, she was SURE of it ...
   "What?  Madam, wake up!" his tone was sharp with anxiety, and she obligingly dragged her eyes open.
   "See?  I'm awake.  But I'm cold..."
   "I'll start a fire..." he paused for a moment, then took off his jacket.  "Here.  Put this on."
   Her eyes widened.  "CAN I?"
   "Why not?" he spoke roughly, and dropped it over her shoulders without meeting her eyes.
   She cautiously sat up again and put her arms into the jacket.  The sleeves were much too long, of course, but it did help cut the wind.  She scooted back a bit and rested against a boulder, watching the Captain build the fire, then point it into flame.
   "When they come to rescue me, how will I tell them I got this fire going?" she questioned, her eyes on his magnificent body outlined now just by his turtleneck.
   "I'm sure you'll think of something.  Your active writer's imagination, remember?" he hunkered down on the opposite side of the fire, and their eyes met over the flames.  "You know," he continued, "I must concede that Thompson was right ... you DO look lovely by firelight."
   Carolyn blushed vividly and tried to look away, but his gaze was mesmerizing.  "Even after a shipwreck?  I must look terrible, Captain!  And why bring Blair up now?"
   "Perhaps as a safety check.  I don't suppose that fair weather sailor in his ice cream britches would have been much help to you tonight.  You needed a real MAN..." his voice died away then, and he continued rather bitterly after a split second, "but instead you had only a spirit."
   "Captain, you could never be ONLY anything!  And I thought you were a super spirit?" Carolyn tried teasing him out of his ill humour.  She added, "If this had been a tropical island, you would have had palm trees for wood, and been able to get me a coconut to drink the milk!"
   "Coconut milk?  What I had in mind was a bottle of Madeira!" he muttered, turning away for an instant.  "Or a large tankard of ale!  Oh, Madam," he almost groaned, his eyes fixed once more on hers.  "Would that this COULD be a deserted tropical island ... I'd gladly remain marooned here forever with you..."
   Carolyn's heart swelled with her love for him, and her eyes softened.  "Oh, Captain ..." Then she added quickly, "But in a sense, you ARE already marooned with me, forever ... in Gull Cottage.  You have nowhere else to go, do you?  If I ever can afford to buy it, I won't be leaving either.  Candy and Jonathan will grow up and leave home, but I will be with you..."
   "I have tied you to Gull Cottage..." he sounded disgusted with himself.  "And worse, I should have gone back immediately to get help for you!" he looked around at the darkness that had dropped over them.  "Now you are stuck out here for the night!  I'll head back..."
   "Wait, Captain!  No one is home, remember?" Carolyn called him back, not wanting him to leave.  Her head was starting to ache again. 
"I can wait for the Coast Guard.  They'll be here first thing, I'm sure.  The Yacht Club will have notified them that I'm out."  She winced and raised her hand to her head again.
   "It's aching again?" the Captain was suddenly solicitous, dropping down at her side again.
   "Hmm.  I think I'll lie down for a bit..."
   "Just don't go to sleep!  That was a nasty crack, you probably have concussion."
   "I'm sure that's an old wives' tale about concussion, Captain." she was suddenly extremely drowsy the minute her head was on the ground again.
   "Mrs. Muir!"
   "Captain, you called me Carolyn before ..." her voice was weak, and she didn't want to open her eyes.  Even the firelight was starting to hurt them.  "You kissed my head better too ... maybe you could try it again?"  Before hearing his reaction, slumber overtook her.
   Somehow, even in her sleep she was aware of the Captain's brooding presence, watching over her.  She felt as safe as she would have been in her own bed, though, of course, far less comfortable!  She lay snuggled in the Captain's jacket, feeling as though she was enclosed in his embrace, dreaming of him.  During the coldest part of the night, just before dawn, she curled up and tried to tuck her legs into the jacket as well.  The movement woke her as the abrasions on her legs stung when coming into contact with the rough material.
   Opening her eyes, Carolyn saw the Captain at her side, an indistinct figure in the dim firelight.
   "Cold, Mrs. Muir?" he asked.
   "Just my legs." she tested her voice and found her throat much better, although very dry.  "How about you?  I have your jacket..."
   "I don't feel the cold." his voice was low.
   Carolyn stretched, wincing as every muscle protested the movement.  "I'm not sure if I ache because of being smashed into the rocks in the storm, or if the ache is mostly from trying to sleep on the rocks!  I don't suppose you serve orange juice here?" she grinned wryly.  "Now I understand the poet who wrote, ‘Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink'!"
   "I can always pop home..." the Captain began, but Carolyn shook her head quickly. 
   "No ... I don't want to be alone.  Besides, I'm SURE the Coast Guard will be here in a couple of hours.  My watch isn't working, so I'm not sure of the time, but it looks as if the sun will be coming up in a while... And anyway, right now I don't really need a drink ... I have a  very different need!  I just wish I had put on a bikini for the sailing trip!"  She stood up rather unsteadily, instinctively reaching out to the Captain for support even as his hands came out to her.  Both pulled back abruptly.
   "I'm afraid there's not much shelter anywhere ... this is just one of the many rocky shoals in this area.  We're lucky it's one that's a little higher than most so that it's not covered at high tide!  You'll have to make your way around to the other side ..." he spoke gruffly, slightly embarrassed.
   Carolyn nodded, then winced as her head throbbed in response.  She combed her hair with her fingers, then slipped off the Captain's jacket.  "I'll leave this here ..."
   "Be careful, my dear." came the soft-spoken command.  He turned his eyes away from her slender, ivory-clad figure.
   "I will."  As she moved stiffly away, she wondered what he would say if she ever called HIM ‘my dear' ... but she knew it was something that would remain a mystery.  She would never have the courage to try.
   The Captain had been right, she couldn't go far, and then the ocean was before her again.  Hoping he would continue to be a gentleman and look the other way, she peeled the ragged coverup off and finished as quickly as she could.  Coming back, she found a small pool in an indent of one of the rocks, and tested the water with her finger to her tongue to see if it were salt or fresh.  Assuming it was rain water since she couldn't taste too much salt, she splashed it on her face and tried to clean off as much as possible the salt that had stuck to her skin, making it feel tight.  She dried with the coverup, knowing it, too, was covered with salt, but having no other choice.  It hardly seemed worthwhile to put it back on!
   "Mrs. Muir?  Are you still all right?"
   "Yes, Captain, I'm coming." she gingerly fingered the lump at her temple, partly concealed by her hair, then made her way back to where the Captain had thrown the last bit of driftwood he could find onto the fire.
   "I've put..." he turned to her and stopped in his tracks.  She held the coverup loosely in her hand, and his gaze swept down her body then back to her face.  Abruptly he turned and indicated his jacket.  "You'd best put that on, Madam, it's still cool."
   Although slightly unnerved by his inspection, Carolyn couldn't resist teasing him again.  "And you don't want me parading around in my skivvies?"
   "It's not MY wants that are in question here, Mrs. Muir." he said, not looking at her.  "Come, sit over here.  I'll pull up a nice, comfortable rock for you to lean against, and we can watch the sunrise."
   Slipping her arms into his jacket once more, Carolyn sank down where he indicated.  The Captain seated himself next to her, his arm along the boulder behind her.  Feeling as though she was in his arms, Carolyn angled her head to look up at him, and their gazes locked.  Why was she finding it so hard to breathe?  A look passed between them, of consent, of acceptance, of recognizing the inevitable.  Passion darkened his eyes while her own body trembled with the wanting he'd stirred in her.  Yet she forced herself to take another breath, and then one more. 
   "The sunrise..." he spoke huskily, but she couldn't look away. 
   Suddenly the sound of a helicopter intruded, and the thought of her imminent rescue finally stirred reality in Carolyn's brain.  The world, which had shrunk to the look in the Captain's eyes, gradually filled in around her, the sea, the fire, the sun peeping over the horizon in glorious colour, the realization that nothing could be between them for now except the deep friendship they already shared.
   The Captain stood abruptly and doused the fire.  Carolyn scrambled awkwardly to her feet, and slid the jacket off her shoulders, passing it to him.
   "You should keep it on!" he almost growled.  "You're not decent in that... that..."
   "Captain, you know I can't keep it on.  And I'm as decent as anyone on the beach these days.  But before they come, I want to thank you, for EVERYTHING these last hours.  I'm so very grateful you were with me.  I know I owe my life to you..." Carolyn spoke urgently, raising her voice over the sound of the helicopter which was coming lower and lower.
   "I'll see you at home, madam." the Captain inclined his head and disappeared. 
   It was not long until Carolyn herself was at home, after being greeted by members of the Yacht Club who had worried about her all night after the sudden, violent storm that had swept through the area.  Jonathan, Candy and her parents weren't back yet, and Carolyn hoped they would never hear of her misadventure.  Not from her, at any rate!  The first thing she did was have a long drink of cold water, then she went and had a shower, finally able to wash the salt crust away.  When she got back to her room, the Captain was waiting with a small glass of Madeira for her.
   "Captain, it's only six in the morning!" she tied the sash on her dressing gown a little more securely.
   "It'll help you sleep ... bed is the place for you now, just until the children return." his voice was firm.
   "You're not having any with me?" she accepted the glass gratefully, and took a small sip.
   Sounding a trifle diffident, he said, "Madam, I do not need to rest. And, I wasn't sure you were still talking to me."
   "Considering I was the one who wanted to go sailing, and ignored your warnings of the storm, I should think it would be the other way around!" Carolyn smiled enchantingly at him.  "You do forgive me, don't you?"
   "Always, my dear." his answering smile was warm.