Windmills by Robin Merrill

Author:Robin Merrill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian fiction, Maine Christian fiction, realistic Christian fiction, Christian suspense, Christian romance, Christian softball, Christian fiction for women, Christian books for women, Christian women's fiction, Christian womens fiction
Publisher: New Creation Publishing
Published: 2018-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

27

“What color are your buoys?” Emily asked.

They were puttering along at a pretty good clip now, and Emily wanted to know what colors to be on the lookout for.

“Orange and black. My grandfather picked ’em, so don’t blame me for the Halloween theme. And we’re nowhere near them yet. I thought I’d take you for a little spin.

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“To the east side of the island.” He pointed out the sights as they went. His dad’s boat, his buddy’s boat, Thomas’s house, the school, the small public beach. Then he pulled into a little cove and cut the engine.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked, alarmed. “Won’t we drift ashore?”

He chuckled. “No. We’ll be fine. The tide’s going out, and we won’t be here long.”

“Where’s here?”

“Here is the east side of the island. More specifically, this is called “P-I-G—and don’t say that word out loud—Poop Cove.”

“Don’t say what out loud?”

“P-I-G,” he spelled again.

“What?”

“We call it Bacon Poop Cove, because that way we can avoid the p-word and also because it’s funny to say bacon poop.”

“Why can’t you say the p-word?”

“It’s bad luck. So that”—he pointed toward a point of land jutting out into the water—“is Bacon Poop Point. That’s where my grandfather shot his first partridge. And this is Bacon Poop Cove.”

“You don’t seriously believe in bad luck?”

“Of course not.” He sat down on a bench that ran alongside part of the port gunwale and then pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. He had put on the oil pants, and the plastic felt freezing cold through her blue jeans. She shivered, though she wasn’t sure it was entirely from the cold—his thick, long arms wrapped around her waist might have had something to do with it.

“Then why won’t you say the p-word?”

“I don’t think my DNA will allow it,” he whispered into her ear, causing every inch of her body to break out in goosebumps. “Look,” he said. She looked.

The infinite shades of pink that had owned the horizon only seconds ago had been interrupted by a burst of brilliant yellow. A sliver of sun had broken over the horizon and the raw beauty of it stole Emily’s breath. One can photograph a sunrise. One can paint it. One can describe it in a poem. But no one can truly capture it. There’s nothing like seeing it live and in person.

“We are now two of the very first people in the whole country to see the sun come up,” James said in a voice so soft she could hardly believe it was his.

“Aren’t we going to go blind looking at this?”

“If we were, I’d have been blind long ago. Besides, we’re not going to stare at it for long.” He slowly loosed his arms from around her and slid out from behind her, leaving her sitting on the cool wooden bench. Then he knelt in front of her.

Immediately she knew what was happening and immediately her head filled with absurd thoughts: Is he just doing this

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