Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

too far back to see anything useful. “Try the second figure eight again.”
    She flipped a loop and yanked on the loose end of the knot. To her surprise the result lay in clean, obedient curves, just like the blue line.
    “I did it!”
    At first he didn’t answer. Then he said absently, “Sure you did, honey. Anybody who can draw the way you do can tie a simple knot.”
    Honey .
    Her head came up sharply. She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of men who used condescending nicknames for women.
    The words never got past her lips. He was staring over the stern. She turned to see what he was watching.
    A bright orange Zodiac was flying over the water, closing the distance between them.
    “Don’t tell me,” she said.
    “Okay.”
    “Don’t they have anything better to do?”
    “Guess not.”
    “What if I don’t let them aboard?”
    “Let’s keep on being good citizens. We might be glad to see them later.”
    “I doubt it.”
    Jake’s glance shifted from the approaching boat to Honor. The combination of anger and impatience in his eyes startled her.
    “You’re a bright lady,” he said. “Use that brain for something more than being stubborn.”
    “You sound like Archer, all-knowing and oh-so-superior.”
    “Screw your brother. Screw the whole damn family. You’re so busy looking over your shoulder to see if any Donovans are watching that you’re going to trip and break your stiff neck.”
    “You’re fired!”
    He let go of the wheel and stepped back. Unguided, the Tomorrow raced through the calm water, holding steady.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
    “I’m tired of playing games.” He gestured toward the aft helm station. “It’s all yours, Ms. Donovan.”
    She looked from him to the helm. Whatever you called it, the helm looked like a steering wheel to her. The rest of the boat might be a mystery, but she knew about steering wheels and go-fast engines.
    Besides, she recognized a dare when it was flung in her face.
    She stepped into place behind the heavily chromed helm wheel. The first thing she learned was that boats and cars didn’t respond in the same way. The second thing she learned was the same as the first, underlined. She simply couldn’t predict what the boat would do next.
    The Tomorrow’s wake went from a straight, even line to a wildly uneven Z.
    “Throttle back,” Jake said. “The boys in the Zodiac are getting impatient.”
    With a muttered word, she grabbed the throttle lever and pulled back hard. The boat slowed so suddenly that she was thrown against the helm.
    Jake staggered once and caught himself. Knowing what was coming next, he spread his legs and flexed his knees. The Tomorrow ’s own wake boiled up under the stern and bucked beneath the boat in a powerful wave.
    Honor gave a startled cry and hung on to the helm for balance.
    “Lucky for us this is a SeaSport,” he said curtly. “You can swamp most boats in their own wake stopping that quick. Take it out of gear.”
    Shaken, she reached for the black-knobbed lever and pulled gently. Nothing happened. She pulled harder. The lever moved a bit, but she could tell by the sound of the engine that it was still in gear. She gave the lever a good jerk. It slid past neutral and hung up halfway to reverse.
    The boat kept going forward.
    “You missed the gate,” he said. “Try again. No, not that way. Take the gearshift all the way up to the top, then back to neutral in the middle.”
    This time she found neutral. Instantly the boat stopped responding to the wheel. She turned the wheel frantically. Nothing.
    “What happened?” she asked anxiously. “I can’t make it go where I want!”
    “You’re in neutral.”
    “I know that! Why doesn’t the boat respond to the steering wheel?”
    “Unless the boat is under power the helm is useless, remember?”
    The look Honor gave Jake said she didn’t believe a word he was saying.
    The look she got back said he didn’t care.
    “Right now you’re on a very expensive piece of drifting junk,” he said bluntly.
    “But—”
    “The faster you go,” he interrupted, “the more responsive the boat is to the controls. The reverse is true, too. Remember?”
    Now she did. Before, it had been simply one of a thousand unrelated facts racing around her head.
    “No velocity means no steering,” she said shakily. “Got it.”
    The next thing Honor learned was that wallowing around on the choppy water like a pig on ice made her very