"Nearly three hours ago."
"And you guys just let her?" Jesse said, angrily punching numbers on the phone.
"What were we supposed to do?" Peg asked. "Lock her in the pantry until you boys sobered up?"
"It wouldn't be the first time you've done that to one of us," Sam drawled. "Hold up, Jesse," he said, going over and hitting the off button on the phone. "We knew Willa would likely leave today. Maybe we should let her. It's going to take her some time to come to terms with what's happened, and we're probably the last people she wants to see this morning."
"But what about Cobb?" Jesse asked.
Sam shrugged. "Willa's as safe with Ronald as she would be with any of us. And we know where she's going and how she's getting there. I'll give her a few days to calm down, then show up on her doorstep and tell her that I'd like to rent her cottage." Sam warmed to his idea as he formed it on the fly. "I'll tell
her I need a little vacation myself and that I want to use up whatever remaining rent Bram had."
"That's perfect," Ben said, grabbing a piece of toast. "It'll be easier courting her on her own turf."
Sam was thinking the same thing, until Ronald walked in the back door.
"Where's Ms.Kent ?" Sam asked. "I thought you were driving her toMaine ."
Ronald's face took on a dark tinge. "She's on her way home."
"On her way how ?"
"I'm not at liberty to say. She asked me not to."
Sam took a step toward him. "But I'm asking you to ."
"I'm sorry, Sam, but I work for Willa now."
Sam gritted his teeth against the throbbing in his head. "Ronald, there's a chance one of Cobb's grandsons might bother Willa because of Bram's bequest. How about you go back to wherever you left her, pick her up, and drive her toMaine yourself?"
Ronald's face paled. "I never considered Cobb or his grandsons might bother her." He suddenly brightened. "It's okay, though. Nobody can get to Willa for the next few days. By then, I can be inMaine to look after her."
"I'm going to look after her inMaine ," Sam growled. "And what do you mean, nobody can get to her for the next few days? Where the hell is she?"
"I promised Willa I wouldn't say. I can only assure you she's safe."
The phone suddenly rang, and Jesse answered it. "Sinclair residence," he said. He listened to what the caller had to say. "What!"
Jesse paled as the caller repeated what he'd just said. "How long ago? And nobody stopped her?
Where in hell was security?"
Sam made a lunge for the phone, but Jesse hit the off button. "That was the marina," he said. "They said that when they went to move the RoseWind to its summer mooring just now, they were told a lone woman had taken her out."
All three brothers turned in unison to glare at Ronald.
Ronald took a step back, his hands raised in supplication. "She's a world-class sailor. She told me she grew up on a schooner."
"She can't get off an elevator without tripping over her own feet," Sam snapped. "She's probably hanging from the rigging by now, if she hasn't fallen overboard!"
"I went down to the dock and helped her get under way," Ronald said. "She was as nimble as a cat from the moment her feet hit the deck. And she sure as hell knows her way around a sailboat." He
actually stepped closer. "She told me she needed to spend a few days at sea, alone, to think. I think it was cruel, what Abram did to her. The woman was nothing but nice to him, and he blindsided her on that video tape. I really feel sorry for her."
Sam's anger instantly evaporated. "Yeah. Bram may have thought he was helping Willa, but he really screwed up her life. And that's why I'm going to fix this." He looked at Jesse. "Call our helicopter pilot, and have him pick me up on the front lawn in an hour."
"You're flying toMaine ?" Jesse asked. "But it'll take Willa several days to get home."
Sam headed to the back staircase leading to the family wing. "I'm not flying toMaine , I'm sailing."
"How? Willa took the boat," Ben said.
Sam stopped with his foot on the bottom step. "She'll only be a few hours out by the time I find her. I'll board the RoseWind and sail up with her."
"And just how are you going to board from a helicopter?" Ben asked in alarm.
"I'll have our pilot get as close and as low as he can, and I'll jump into the water."
Jesse snorted. "You're assuming Willa will stop and fish you out. She'll more likely throw you the anchor."
"She won't let me drown," Sam assured the five incredulous people gaping at him. "She's too softhearted."
Chapter Ten
Willa was so involvedplotting her course on the nautical chart that it took her a while to realize the comforting drone of the radio she'd tuned to the NOAA weather station was being drowned out by a familiar noise she couldn't immediately identify. She scanned the horizon behind her from west to east, noticed some boats scattered several miles away, and finally decided the source of the sound was the helicopter in the distance. It seemed to be on a zigzag course, flying from one boat to the other, then moving on to the next one as if searching for something. Only it wasn't orange, nor was it large enough to be a Coast Guard helicopter.
The sleek black aircraft reminded her of the fancy one she'd seen on Donald Trump's Apprentice show. But then, probably half the corporations inManhattan had helicopters. But this one was working its way out to sea, and Willa didn't think such helicopters had a very far range. It would either have to rendezvous with a large ship or head for land soon, she decided, as she glanced at her sails to make sure they were catching the maximum breeze. She checked her compass heading, then stood and adjusted the wheel to a more northeasterly course. She sighed, wishing she had gotten a ride in Tidewater International's helicopter before she'd left.
But wait-she owned a good portion of Tidewater now. For the next three months, she probably had the authority to call the office and ask them to send the helicopter up to Keelstone Cove!
She could take Shelby and Jennifer and Cody for a ride in it, and they'd buzz all around town, and the kids could wave to all their friends. Ten-year-old Cody would think she was the coolest aunt in the world.
Even better, instead of having Ronald drive Jennifer and her date to the homecoming dance in the Bearcat, as she and Ronald had discussed on the way to the marina, she could let her niece use the helicopter. How extra-cool would that be?
Whew! This being rich was heady stuff.
But the way she figured it, how many people got to be stinking rich for three whole months? Abram had cursed her with this outrageous bequest, so why not take advantage of it while she tried to find a way out of it? Thus the brilliant idea of sailing the RoseWind toMaine instead of driving home. That's also why she'd agreed to let Peg come keep house for her. With any luck, Peg's cooking would put another ten or fifteen pounds on her, and then she'd see if Sam Sinclair still wanted to marry her. A cook, a chauffeur, a helicopter, a sailboat, a mansion, mountains of money-what more could a girl ask for?
"Don't get caught up in your daydreams, Willamina, or you'll forget the price of keeping everything is a husband," she reminded herself, only to have her words get lost in the thump-thump-thump of the fast-approaching helicopter.
Holy smokes, it was coming right at her!
Willa scrambled to catch her chart before it blew away, then lunged for the wheel, turning the RoseWind to keep the sails from slapping in the turbulence. The helicopter swung in a wide arch and flew over her again, and she frantically waved it away with one hand while adjusting the wheel with the other.
"Get away!" she shouted, despite knowing that the pilot couldn't hear her. "If you get any closer, you're going to shred my sails!"
The helicopter returned and settled into a hover just off her starboard side. "Break sail and pull about,"
came a booming voice over its loudspeaker. "I want to come aboard."
Willa went stone still and gaped at the helicopter. That's when she noticed "Tidewater International" in broad gold letters on the fuselage. They had chased her down?
"Turn your radio to six-three," the voice boomed over the thump of the spinning blades. Willa checked the set of her sails, then went to the radio, turned the dial to six-three, and keyed the mike. "Don't get any closer than you are. You'll shred my sails."