“What sort of fish is that?” I asked instead.
“Cod,” both men answered.
So that was what my dinner looked like before I ate it. “They look so smooth and slimy.”
Graham handed Morton the second line, then baited the other and threw it out.
“You’re in luck today, Morton,” Graham said.
And so it went. For nearly two hours, the sun lowered in the sky while Graham and Morton reeled in fish. At onepoint, we rowed a little further out, and I had to take another half hour to recover. In time, they filled an entire bucket to its brim with cod, and I sat back, laughing at the two of them jesting and poking at each other. In time, I forgot about my heartache and let the sea revive me.
The men reused their bait when they could, arguing over whether a cod could be caught on half an octopus. I’d never seen Graham so happy and carefree. I could tell he liked using his hands, seeing something tangible come from hard work. And I liked watching him laugh.
“You two shall sink our little boat if you continue on with such success,” I teased them. My stomach had settled, and I’d become one with the sea. At least for now. I liked how the salty breeze brushed through my hair. Though I could do with less fish and guts and blood.
“Not until you’ve at least tried your hand,” Morton said, but it was less a command and more a taunt. I could see why he and Graham got on so well. “One cast is all.”
“Onecast,” Graham agreed with a look so hopeful, I wanted nothing more than to please him. “Try your luck, Anna.”
Morton had already cut the hook off his line and was spinning it back around his spool. Graham held his empty hook at the ready.
“I am not baiting that hook,” I said with finality. “But I suppose I will try one cast.”
“There’s my girl!” Morton laughed, reaching out a hand to help me over the center thwart.
I stood, a little wobbly, but took a few steps to the front thwart until I sat facing the water. Graham held up the octopus-
baited line, which I took and threw as far as I could. It landedwith a familiarplonk, and the line released, sinking, sinking, sinking.
“Let it out a little at a time,” Graham directed.
Having retreated toward the back thwart, Morton stood with hands on hips, watching over us.
My fingers fumbled on the line as I tried to unwind it. It was tough on my hand. Graham noticed and took off a little woolen half glove and offered it to me. He held the line while I tugged the glove on, then he handed it back.
Still, I fumbled to unwind the line as quickly as they had. I looked to Morton, half embarrassed at my inabilities.
He winked, then nodded toward Graham.
Graham stepped forward. “There’s a rhythm to it,” he said, “like everything on the sea.”
Then he rested a knee on the thwart and crouched behind me. “May I?” His deep voice rumbled at my back, and my skin prickled with anticipation. The thwart’s length was barely enough to fit us both.
I glanced over my shoulder and nodded. The line in my hand drifted, pulled by the sea, while my other hand held fast to the wooden spool.
Graham placed one hand over mine, holding the spool with me, and my breath hitched. Graham Everett. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way ... this exciting. Then his other hand slid down my arm to the line. I felt his touch all the way down to my toes.
“Place your hand on mine,” he said, and I could feel him swallow hard.
I released the line and stared down at his strong, capable hand. With every movement, however slight, my back brushed his chest. Was I alone in this feeling? I tilted my headto find his expression as though it would be some key to his thoughts, but he wasright there, and my forehead met his cheek.
“S-sorry,” I mumbled, turning back.
He laughed, a gentle sound. “Anna, take my hand. I’ll show you the rhythm.”
Hesitantly, awkwardly, I placed my hand over his. My fingers grazed his knuckles and the spaces in between, and held fast.
“Ready?” Graham anchored the spool at my hip so the line came out horizontally. He let the line sink into the sea, but every time it pulled, he flicked off the end of the spool with aswip,swip, keeping time like a measured song. I felt like a puppet, and I started to laugh, leaning back into his chest.
