“What’s going on?” Shelby was already moving toward the motor when it died.
He tried to restart it three times, but it only sputtered.
“Dad keeps a tool kit on board. Maybe you can fix whatever’s wrong.”
Gray’s eyes drifted over the instrument panel, then landed on the fuel gauge. “I can’t fix this.”
She turned to look at him. “Why not?”
“Because we’re out of gas.”
Chapter 28
The boat drifted to a stop. The shoreline was forever away and there wasn’t another vessel in sight. Shelby shelved her hands on her hips. “Yep, I’m a genius all right.”
“It could happen to anybody. We’ll just—” Gray’s gaze skated over the boat’s interior. “I don’t suppose there are paddles tucked away somewhere?”
She lifted the seat well cover even though a paddle would never fit inside. There was some fishing tackle, an old ball cap, and four life vests. She let it fall shut with a huff. She was better than this. But she’d been so distracted by their mission. And, if she was honest, by Gray’s presence on a boat they’d once spent so many hours on.
She shook off the thought as she fished her phone from her pocket and checked the screen. No bars. Hardly a surprise in the middle basin. “Nothing.”
“Me either.” He surveyed the distant shoreline. “Maybe someone’ll see us out here.”
“If they do, they’ll assume we’re fishing.” A heavy feeling of dread anchored in her stomach. The water slapped the sides of the boat as it rocked gently, drifting slightly with the wind. Her legs were wobbly in a way that had nothing to do with motion. Shelby lowered herself onto the seat.
“The sun’s setting.”
It would be full dark in half an hour or so. “We’ll keep checking our phones. We’re bound to get cell service eventually.”
Shelby felt much less hopeful forty-five minutes later. To the west, the last light of the day lingered on the horizon. At least the moon had favored them by making an appearance. Starlight twinkled overhead. Gray was a mere shadow on the other side of the boat.
Even though they’d only drifted a bit, she checked her phone again. Maybe a night fisherman would come along. Before the thought was finished, reality drained the optimism. Fishing was good in November, but dusk and early morning were the premium hours—one had passed and the other was still hours away. Also, the deep waters along the shoreline were the best spots, not the middle of the lake—all good fishers knew that.
Gray was pretty quiet over there. Was reality settling in for him too?
No one could see them out here now. The wind was pushing them slowly away from Eagle Island and farther into the center of the basin where they were unlikely to get cell reception. They’d already gone through the bins and found nothing useful for signaling or moving the boat.
“Hand me your phone,” he said. “Now that it’s dark, maybe the flashlight will draw attention.”
“Good idea, but let’s use yours. I’m low on battery.”
“Mine just went dead.”
Her stomach plummeted. “I’m down to 12 percent. We should probably save it in case we get reception.”
“You’re right. Chances of flagging someone down probably weren’t high anyway.”
“I’m going to shut mine off for now. I’ll check periodically.”
A cool breeze blew across the surface of the water. Shelby crossedher arms over her torso. She wore a long-sleeve T-shirt that had been comfortable earlier, but it was getting colder.
The boat rocked as Gray shifted. “Here, take my sweatshirt.”
“I’m fine.”
He extended it to her. “Take it. I have a shirt underneath and I’m not cold.”
When they’d been together she joked that he had an internal furnace. He never even wore a jacket in the winter. “You sure?”
