At the Clearest Sensation

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

The Duck Dodge was utter mayhem, and Isobel couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Waiting for the start, boats veered every which way around each other. Tacks came so close together than her hands were soon sore—she wasn’t in practice for this anymore.

After a particularly fast tack and back, Devlin tossed her a pair of fingerless bicycle gloves. She yanked them on gratefully.

His boat was so light and agile that the least breeze heeled them well over and sent them racing ahead with utterly brilliant acceleration.

By the time the starting horn sounded, he’d apparently used magic. Of the hundred sailboats, theirs was perfectly positioned, and they were one of the first across the line.

The entire nature of the race changed at that point. All the maneuvering and twisting for advantage fell away. With the bit in its teeth, the Dragon leapt forward with the rest of the fleet streaming behind.

Other than minor changes to the sheet as the vagaries of the wind shifted around the surrounding hills, she could simply sit back and enjoy herself. They were third to a buoy that lay just before a low drawbridge at the northeast corner of the lake.

Coming about hard, they turned onto a broad reach with the sails swung well out to the side to capture the wind swooping in from the aft quarter.

In a companionable silence, they ran close by the broad lawn of the park at the north end of the lake. She could imagine ways to use it in the upcoming shoot. In the morning, the sun would catch the paved walkway that led to the top of the hill with a soft—

Isobel pushed that out of her thoughts. Tonight was only about sailing. The sun was off the lake and, though the breeze was cool, the air remained warm. It was so fresh and alive she wished she could bathe in it.

“Ever fly a chute, Belle?”

“A chute?”

“A spinnaker.”

“I know what a chute is. I was questioning if you could fly one on this little lake.”

“Hadn’t planned on it, but that was before I acquired such a fine crew. Let’s give it a try.”

She shrugged her acceptance and he talked her through setting up the big spinnaker sail. In her experience, it was an awkward task of poles, lines, and a lightweight sail that wanted to twist and snarl at the least opportunity.

Except…not on this boat.

He’d made an utterly ingenious rig that included a small trap door at the very bow of the deck. She peeked below. The spinnaker was housed in a big cloth tube under the deck. It only took a minute or so to get everything set. They were ready by the time they hit the next turning mark.

“Ready about?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“That’s the spirit. Helms alee.” And he took the turn. Most of the way around he shouted out, “Now! Do it up, Belle.”

She let go the jib halyard and hauled on the spinnaker’s.

The big sail slithered out of the hatch and gave one loud snap as it caught the wind. It filled beautifully and in moments they were racing downwind. Instead of a simple white or color-striped sail like most spinnakers she’d seen, it was sewn as an elaborate multi-colored dragon flying gloriously aloft to lead them ahead at incredible speed.

Isobel could offer no answer to the sensation other than her laughter.