Part 12 (1/2)
Smokey waved to him in obvious friends.h.i.+p as they pulled easily ahead. Dallas could not wipe the grin from his face; he didn't know when he'd had such fun. Like a diamond in the rough, there seemed to be more to Smokey Simmons than he ever considered possible. In fact, that very evening he was to see yet one more facet.
”Dallas,” Da.r.s.ey approached him on the deck where he was repairing some line, ”Smokey wants to see you in her cabin.”
”Right.” Dallas put his work aside and went directly below.
He knocked on her door and waited for her to acknowledge him before going inside.
Smokey was at her desk when he stepped in. She motioned him to a chair.
”How is everything?” she wanted to know as soon as he was seated ”Fine”
”Good,” Smokey said, taking him at his word. ”The rest of the crew has known me for some time, and they would never hesitate to voice a complaint or concern. I wanted to be certain you felt the same.”
Smokey paused long enough to pick up a sheaf of rolled papers from her desk ”I found these in my files, and I thought you might like to study them. You can't have them, but as long as you're on board you can look at them. They're the plans for theAramis”
Dallas took the pages she offered to hfm and slowly unrolled them. His eyes drank in the lines and measurements with the ease of an experienced builder.
”These are excellent,” Dallas spoke, almost to himself.
95.
”It's a fine vessel,” Smokey agreed, causing Dallas to look up. He studied her across the small s.p.a.ce for a long moment.
She was as relaxed and confident as she could be behind I the desk. She smiled easily, transforming her entire face whenever she did, and there was nothing forced about her voice or movements.
”I hope I'm not out of line to say that you're different on your s.h.i.+p than when you're at Jenny's.”
”Or at Buck's, when I'm dumping water on myself?”
Smokey said dryly and laughed, freeing Dallas to join her.
”How long have you been sailing?” Dallas was suddenly overcome with curiosity about this unique woman.
”My father was a sailor, so I've been at sea all my life, but as an actual captain, just a few years.”
”How old are you--19, 20?”
Smokey laughed again, and Dallas found he liked the sound ”I'm 25, and I've been the captain of the Aramis since I was 23.”
”Twenty-five?” Dallas face showed his shock. ”You look younger,” he admitted softly, and even though he knew he was a crewman under her authority, he allowed his gaze to become rather warm.
Smokey, still so attracted to him she had to work at keeping her composure, wanted very much to ask him what he was thinking, but Da.r.s.ey knocked and entered His stern gaze pinned Dallas to the seat for a moment, making him feel closer to 15 than 28.
”Here's your supper, la.s.s--and yours is waiting in the galley, lad” Da.r.s.ey stood expectantly on these words until Dallas stood and moved toward the door.
”Thank you, Smokey,” he told her before exiting.
He stowed the papers in his bunk and then made his way topside, wis.h.i.+ng for the first time that he was in command of this vessel, a position that would allow him to sit and talk with the fascinating Smokey Simmons for hours if he so desired.
98.
Scully, Da.r.s.ey, Mic, Dallas, and Robby were crowded into the galley having supper and swapping stories when Smokey entered Dallas watched in amazement as she slammed her plate on the table, slopping some of its contents onto the wood surface.
”This has spinach in it, Scully,” Smokey spoke between clenched teeth, her face bright pink with anger. ”I told you in Florida to get some decent food”
”Now, missy,” he tried to placate her. ”You need spinach.
Remember what your father used to say, he--”
”You have got exactly 15 minutes to get a decent supper to my cabin,” she cut him off ruthlessly. ”Or I'll have you keelhauled”
She slammed out in a fury to match the storm they had just been through, and Dallas spoke.
”What was that all about?”
”She hates green vegetables, always has. And Scully always tries to get her to eat them. You shouldn't have tried it, Scully,”
Da.r.s.ey now said to the old cook. ”She can always tell.”
”She doesn't eat right,” he insisted ”I don't know how she tasted them. If only she would--”
”Oh, stow it, Scully,” Mic told him. ”Just make her something and take it down.”
After a fierce glare at Mic, Scully went to work, grumbling the entire time. After just ten minutes, he set a fresh plate on the table and turned to Robby.
”Take that to her, Rob.”
”No way, Scully; you made her mad, you take it down.”
Scully tried Mic, pus.h.i.+ng the plate in his direction. ”Take this down.”
Mic didn't even acknowledge him, so Scully looked to Da.r.s.ey.
”Don't look at me. I won't go near her when she's been kept from her dinner.”