Holly ran past Simon and threw the quilted blanket onto the fire.
Simon aimed the hose at the blanket, soaking the fabric before the fire could consume it. In a few minutes of applying water to the blanket, the flames were effectively smothered, keeping them from spreading further.
Standing with the hose in one hand, still pouring water over the blanket, Simon spread his other arm wide.
Holly leaned into him, taking refuge in his embrace. “Okay then,” she said. “That was a bit more than a warning.”
Simon glanced past the deck to the bayou beyond. “Had the fire spread, we would’ve had to abandon the houseboat.”
Holly stared at the reeds not far from where the houseboat had drifted. “See the brown pile of dead grass between the green marsh grass?”
Simon nodded.
“Look closer,” Holly pointed. “See something dark moving between the nest and us? Looks like a log floating on the surface?”
Again, Simon nodded. “Is that what I think it is?”
She nodded. “It’s a mama alligator, and that’s her nest. They’re extremely protective of their eggs and young.”
“It’s a good thing we were able to put out the fire,” Simon said. “I’m a good swimmer but...”
“Not as good as she is.” Holly drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, wondering how long it would be before they’d get someone out to tow them back to the dock.
“Ahoy, there,” a voice called out.
Holly looked out at the shadows of the morning bayou and spotted a boat floating nearby with a grizzled older man holding the handle of the till.
“J.D.?” she called out.
“That’s me,” the old man called out. “J.D. LaDue at your service.” He tipped his fisherman’s hat and bowed his head. “That you, Holly?”
Holly leaned over the rail. “Yes, it is.”
“Aren’t you a little far out in the bayou in that thing?” J.D. pointed a finger at the houseboat.
Holly gave the older man a crooked smile. “Hadn’t planned on a morning tour. Someone cut the mooring lines.”
J.D.’s bushy white eyebrows winged upward. “Ya don’t say.” He shook his head. “What’s the world comin’ to?”
Holly bit back an impatient comment and smiled at the man who understood the bayou like no other. “We could use a little help getting the houseboat back to the dock. Think you could let Mitchell Marceau know we’re out here, drifting?”
J.D. lifted his chin. “I can do better than that.” He turned his boat toward the houseboat. “I can get you back. Won’t take long.”
Holly frowned. “You think your little boat will tow this big ol’ girl all the way back?”
J.D. patted the outboard engine. “This here is the little engine that could,” he declared. “Toss me a line.”
Simon leaned close to Holly. “Does he really think that little boat of his can tow this massive house on pontoons?”
Holly shrugged. “J.D. has been a fixture in the bayou since before I can remember. If he says he can tow us, I’m sure he can.” She hurried to the front of the houseboat and found a line long enough to reach J.D.’s boat. After tying it to a cleat on the bow, she tossed the other end of the line to J.D.
He missed the catch.
Holly gathered the line in.
Simon held out his hands. “Let me.”
Holly handed the rope to Simon and stood back.
