Page 21 of Life, Love and the Pursuit of Happiness

“There are still three million shipwrecks sitting on the bottom of the world’s oceans and seas, you know.” This according to Famosa, ever the professor. “And that’s no bullshit. Three frickin’ million!”

“Do they all have treasure?” Delilah asked.

“Nah! Lots of them carried perishable goods that have long melded into the sea floor. And the ships were wooden. Can anyone say shipworms? Not that those wrecks don’t have historical value in themselves, but no treasure.”

“The interesting thing, though, to us Outer Bankers, anyhow,” Gus interjected, “is that there are still three thousand shipwrecks uncovered off our coastline alone.”

Three thousand! Delilah mouthed silently.

It was an amazing number.

“What do we know about the three ships in question?” Famosa asked.

“I can answer that,” Bonita said. “A trio of Portuguese ships supposedly went down in 1862. Called the Three Saints . . . the St. Martha, the St. Cecilia, and the St. Sonia.”

While Bonita talked, Merrill clicked to a slide with drawings depicting the three ships and the little bit of history about their voyage.

“The ships carried weapons and gold bullion, worth millions. This was before the Yankees had taken control of this region in a number of big battles. The three ships managed to evade Northern offensives, but not the notorious Outer Banks storms.”

“So, we’re looking for historical weaponry and gold,” Famosa concluded.

“Bingo, but there’s also a rumor that one of the ships carried some Spanish princess betrothed to a wealthy Savannah sugar planter,” Merrill said. “Aside from all the gold, her dower chest contained museum quality jewelry, or so the rumors go. The other two ships were escorts.”

“God bless rumors,” Famosa remarked.

“You wouldn’t believe what rumors say about my physical endowments,” Gus interjected with a grin.

“Like anyone cares,” Charlie said.

This conversation was going nowhere fast. Merrill reined it in by continuing his slide show and a description of the first phase of their salvage mission. When he was done and answered some questions, a surprising two hours had gone by. He told the group, “Let’s meet again tomorrow morning. Bring all your gear for inspection, and we’ll do a run-through on schedules and duties on the initial run.”

Excited chatter followed, and Delilah started to gather all the dirty cups and napkins. He went up to her and said, “When you’re done here, let’s go on the boat. I want you to check out the kitchen and make a list of everything you need to buy.” More important, there was something else he wanted—needed—to ask her. In private.

Chapter 6

One step forward, two steps back . . .

After Delilah gathered a pad and pen from her handbag, Merrill led her through the warehouse toward the open doors, across the wharf to the gangway connecting it to the sixty-five-foot former tramp steamer. The temporary ramp, which hung about ten feet above the deep water, was shaky at times and he put a hand to the small of Delilah’s back to steady her, but immediately drew back when he felt her tense up.

Whoa! Talk about uptight!

Realizing that she might have overreacted, she said, “Sorry. I’m a little nervous when tightrope walking.”

Rope? The metal ramp was at least four feet wide, and there were side rails. Maybe she wasn’t as comfortable on the water as she’d led him to believe. Or maybe he’d lost some of the few points he thought he’d scored yesterday in getting closer to Delilah.

And, frankly, if anything was a tightrope, it was dating today. A tightrope of shark-infested waters—the sharks being all the ways a guy could trip. He had to be very, very careful that he didn’t lean too far in either direction. Be a wuss or be a predator. A balancing act, for sure.

If Merrill wasn’t a born competitor, he might consider giving up on this pain in the ass seduction.

Is seduction a taboo word today?

Probably.

Or am I overthinking this?

Probably?

See. Tightrope.