The Deputy's Perfect Match. Lisa Carter

the motor.

      With the children laughing at the antics of shorebirds swooping in lazy figure eights over their heads in the bright September sky, Charlie propped his elbows against the railing. His favorite type of day. Out on the water.

      He glanced over at Latasha perched in Evy’s lap. “Not so bad, see?”

      The wind whipped through Evy’s hair and loosened her ponytail. She brushed a strand out of her eyes only to have it fly into her face again as the boat gained speed. She grimaced. He laughed and gave in to the urge to touch her hair.

      He caught the silky blond lock between his thumb and forefinger. He tucked the tendril behind her ear, and his hand lingered. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Looking into her eyes, he felt weightless.

      Flushing, Charlie dropped his hand. And found Keller’s gaze on him. Keller winked.

      The children squealed with excitement as the boat skimmed over the blue-green waves of the Machipongo Inlet. Evy did not. By the time Keller dropped anchor, she appeared a bit green herself.

      Charlie, Keller and Felicia got busy showing the children how to bait their hooks. Latasha hopped off Evy’s lap and entered into the joy of the day. At first, Evy moved from one child to the next. Offering her encouragement, if not her expertise.

      But finally she sank onto the seat at the railing. Her mouth thinned. A sheen of sweat broke out on her lip.

      Charlie headed over to her. “Are you okay, Evy?”

      She gave him a wobbly smile. “I—I don’t feel so good.”

      “Try not to stare at the horizon. It’s the motion of the boat on the waves. It distorts your perspective and unsettles your equilibrium.”

      She squeezed her eyes closed. She clutched her stomach.

      “Mr. Deputy?”

      He left Evy for a moment to help one youngster untangle his line.

      Planting their feet even with their hips to widen their center of gravity, the children stood shoulder to shoulder around the perimeter of the boat. They called to each other, teasing each other, as the water tugged on their lines.

      Latasha elbowed him. “Evy don’t look so good, Mr. Deputy.”

      He pivoted. No, she didn’t. Then Evy leaned over the side of the boat and vomited.

      He hurried over to her. “Evy?”

      She retched again and again. He kept his hand on her shoulder. Silent tears rolling down her face, she emptied her stomach until dry heaves remained.

      “I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

      He ran his hand over the crown of her head. “It’s okay, Evy.”

      “No,” her lips trembled. “It’s not.”

      Felicia fished a tissue out of her jeans and gave it to Evy.

      He extracted a bottle of water from the cooler. He unscrewed the cap. “Swish out your mouth and spit it over the side.”

      Latasha left her fishing pole. “It’s okay, Evy,” She patted Evy’s back. “I’ll take care of you.” She sounded like a little mother.

      Evy’s arm went around the child’s waist. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, Latasha. Not the other way around.”

      Latasha smiled. “We’ll take care of each other.”

      “Sorry to be such a landlubber,” Evy whispered to him.

      “It’s okay. Really. Most of us on the Shore have been out on the water since we could walk. You’ll get used to it.”

      Evy’s eyes clouded. The supercompetent librarian didn’t like feeling inadequate.

      “Once we get underway back to shore, it won’t be so bad.”

      “I don’t want to cut short the children’s fun.”

      Mr. Keller shook his head. “These small fry have been baking in the sun long enough. Time to get back for lunch.”

      At his words, Evy moaned.

      Charlie eased onto the seat beside her. “Did you eat anything this morning before we left?”

      She shook her head.

      “An empty stomach is the worst on the water.”

      Evy looked at him as if she didn’t believe it.

      “No, truly. Once you eat something, you’ll feel—”

      She groaned. “I may never eat again.”

      “Crackers. Baby steps before you decide to starve yourself forever.”

      “Fine.” She put a hand to her head. “But can we stop talking about food?”

      “Whatever you say.”

      Evy’s mouth curved up. “I reserve the right to remind you of that later.”

      He laughed. “Good to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

      She made a face. “Just my appetite and my pride.”

      * * *

      Evy held on to Charlie’s arm for support as they stepped onto dry land. Weaving, unsteady on her feet. If only the ground would stop moving.