Fair Winds Read online

  I

  “THANKS for the ride.” Rudy Haas hitched the fraying strap of his duffle higher on his shoulder as he brushed the newly acquired dog hair off his jacket and shut the car door carefully behind him. The vehicle was of an age with the driver, and the metal groaned and creaked in protest at the movement.

  Rudy grunted and gave the door the last bit of lift right before closing that it needed to connect, adding a few rust flakes to the collection of dog hair already covering his jeans. But he made sure to give a grateful wave to the driver kind enough to offer him the much-appreciated ride, even if his ears were still ringing from the unexpected abuse.

  “And the conversation.” Now that was stretching things, but he had been raised to be polite to his elders.

  Tickled to find out Rudy was heading to Port Huron for the upcoming race, his benefactor had spent the entire forty-five miles telling Rudy about his own adventures sailing the Great Lakes. All Rudy had wanted to do was lean back on the faded afghan that hid the car’s worn upholstery, close his eyes, and sneak in a nap. But talk was a cheap enough price to pay for the ride, especially as twilight approached.

  “You’re more than welcome.” The driver grinned, showing a flash of yellowed dentures as he waved back, and then pointed at the deep bands of magenta streaking through the clouds overhead. “Red sky at night; sailor’s delight.” Pleased by his own wit, he laughed before pulling out onto the road with a spray of gravel. His wife and grandchildren had gotten tired of his stories years ago; a fresh and captive audience was a rare pleasure.

  Rudy knew he had been lucky to catch the ride. Thumbing it to save money wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Not only did that stretch of highway have light traffic to begin with, but too many film directors had capitalized on the potential perils. They offered up in graphic detail just what could happen to the unsuspecting motorist who was foolish enough to stop and pick up hitchhikers. Luckily the festival atmosphere leading up to the next week’s Bayview Mackinac Race meant that at least until then, there was no such thing as a stranger.

  That simple bit of fellowship left Rudy feeling happily grateful. He loved sailing, and he lived for the competitive thrill of racing, but it was still a richer sport than he could comfortably afford, even with the recent boost in income from his new job.

  Just meeting his share of the entry fees for the race had taken a chunk out of his savings, and since Rudy had only been at the new company a few months, he hadn’t accumulated enough vacation hours to take the time off with pay.

  Rudy knew he was lucky to have gotten the position as an assistant manager with one of the local big-box retailers. He had never applied himself in school, as sailing had been his only real interest; even now he was still willing to risk losing the job rather than missing the race.

  It hadn’t been easy convincing Human Resources to give him the days off even without pay, but Rudy had been determined. He felt lucky that while she didn’t compete herself, the head of his department was also a sailing fan.

  At least he wouldn’t have to worry about the cost of lodgings. Just like the years past, Rudy would stay on the sailboat even when it was in port. Not quite the same as a luxury hotel in town, but it was a win for both him and the other guys. Rudy saved money, and they could rest easy knowing that with a physical presence on board, the risk of a competitor trying something stupid was less.

  Rudy grinned, and his brown eyes sparkled with humor. Sailing might be considered a gentleman’s sport, but the prestige associated with the race and the desire to win at all costs made for some interesting tales—even if most of them could only be whispered over a few beers. He checked his watch and picked up his pace. Even with the ride Rudy had arrived later than he had planned. Ignoring the activity around him, Rudy hurried to the marina entrance.

  The streets of downtown Port Huron were crowded for a weeknight, full of couples and families aimlessly wandering the sidewalks overlooked by a mix of buildings and storefronts. Some showed the signs of urban gentrification; others were left aged and decrepit. Rudy knew the congestion would only increase the closer it got to the actual race.

  It was the eighty-fourth running of the popular sailboat race, and just like the race itself, the gathering of spectators seemed to get larger every year. Rudy had been amazed to learn from the early reports that there were already two hundred and sixty-five boats signed up for this year’s race. The crafts would range in size from twenty-six to over ninety feet, and they would carry a combined crew of more than three thousand sailors.

  Most of the boats would arrive on Wednesday and anchor around the docks of the Black River to better participate in the town’s festivities. Thursday night was usually designated Family Night, and the Friday before the race was Boat Night, when most of the seventy-five thousand visitors expected for the event would wander the downtown waterfront. It offered up the best chance to view the race fleet and enjoy the selection of food, beverages, and souvenirs available from the myriad of gaily decorated booths.

  The race itself was scheduled to take place on Saturday with the first of the sixteen classes starting before noon and the rest staggered after that. Rudy had arrived early so that he and the other guys on the boat could practice getting back into sync. It took a tight and coordinated team effort to handle the sail changes and rail positioning required for a good run, and it was easy to lose the necessary edge.

  “ID?” The bored security guard took his eyes off the crowd of bikini-clad boat groupies gathered around the entrance ramp to the Water Street Marina just long enough to verify that Rudy was male and thus uninteresting. Rudy flashed the laminate badge hanging around his neck on a braided lanyard as a formality.

  Without the pass identifying him as a competitor, he shouldn’t have been allowed to pass through into the main slip area, but the requirement didn’t appear to be getting much enforcement. Rudy stared over the guard’s shoulder, his attention caught by the gleam of white hulls and the sight of the towering masts.

  When the slips were full, it never failed to take his breath away. Rudy didn’t know why, but ever since he was a little boy, he had felt drawn to sailboats. The appeal of their power and romance was as much a mystery to him now as it had been then, and here Rudy could indulge himself like a kid in the proverbial candy store.

  No matter how he tried, Rudy never managed to think of enough words to describe the impact. As far as his eye could see, there was sailboat after sailboat dancing gently about on their moorings. Each one was more impressive, breathtaking, and expensive than the last, and all of them were reflected in water set afire by the rosy glow of the setting sun.

  It was sheer heaven.

  “Hey!” Something wet and cold splashed down Rudy’s arm, and he turned in annoyance.

  “Sorry about that, my friend bumped me.” The words, like the beer, were spilled out with a giggle. Irritated, Rudy brushed the hand not holding the now-empty plastic cup off his waist. Did he really look that stupid? That had to be one of the oldest tricks in the book.

  He ineffectively wiped at the wetness soaking into his sleeve and stared at the young woman in front of him. Like the rest of her friends, she was dressed to attract attention, barely covered by her string bikini and tropical print sarong. Rudy was certain the carefully chosen ensemble hadn’t been anywhere near the dank lake water.

  It didn’t matter to Rudy if she wanted to brag about sleeping with one of the sailors in the race or just be able to say she walked along the dock and spent time with the boats and their crew. Despite the faint wrinkles beside her eyes, she was far too young to be hanging out, trying to score with anyone holding a marina pass.

  “Sure.” Rudy ignored her annoyed exclamation as he headed for the marina. It was a nice try but a tired one that was wasted on him. Apart from the obvious reasons, he was late and still needed to look up the slip number and get his gear stowed.

  He scanned the listings posted on the wall outside the door to the marina’s main entrance. Richard’s Angel was at slip 34. Shaking his head once again at the name of the boat, Rudy headed for the docks. He was beat and couldn’t wait to get some sleep.

  II

  “WHAT the fuck are you talking about?” Rudy asked in disbelief.

  Justin Meeks shifted uneasily as he ran a hand through his close-cropped dark hair. He was close to Rudy’s height, leaner and less muscular, but he had held the starring role in Rudy’s nighttime fantasies for the past year. Rudy enjoyed spending time in Justin’s calm and unruffled company and often wondered what would happen between the two of them if he were ever brave enough to make a move.

  “Look, we’re sorry.” Justin’s sideways glance included the other three guys standing near him and blocking Rudy’s way onto the deck. “But we’ve already replaced you. You’re off the boat.”

  “You can’t do that.” Rudy protested. “I paid my part of the fees.”

  “Are you stupid? You heard him.” Of course it was Richard Proctor who spoke next, replacing Justin as the small group’s spokesperson. Rudy thought the short and chunky blond an obnoxious know-it-all, his main contribution being his father’s ownership of the sailboat. In return Richard viewed Rudy as a threat to his friendship with Justin. “We don’t want your kind on board.”

  “My kind?” This was beginning to feel like a really bad dream. “What do you mean—my kind?”

  “My sister told me all about it.” Richard looked at Rudy, the expression of disgust visible even through the straggling wisps of new beard. “She thought we should know seeing how little pri
vacy there is on the boat. Frankly, I resent like hell you never told us before.”

  “Never told you what, Richard?” Rudy said softly. He was beginning to get the picture, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Never told you that I’m a good sailor, and for the last four years I’ve pulled my weight on this crew?”

  “You should have said something, Rudy.” Justin said quietly. He refused to meet Rudy’s eyes as he stood there, just kept looking down at his feet, his arms crossed across his chest.

  “Why?” Rudy demanded as he looked away from Richard. “How does the fact that I wouldn’t put out for Richard’s drunken slut of a sister have anything to do with my being a part of this crew?”

  Maybe he should curb his anger, but Rudy couldn’t believe this. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself get talked into taking Traci to the bar. But she had just moved to Grand Rapids, and Rudy could remember how that felt. When she had called it hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea. At least not until he realized exactly what she had been looking for.

  “You really hurt her feelings, but it’s not just that.” Justin shook his head. “To be honest in these close quarters it makes the guys uncomfortable having you on board, knowing what we know now.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” This sudden coldness between them felt unreal. It was so different from the almost flirtatious vibes he usually received from Justin. Rudy reached out to Justin and felt sick as his friend stepped back to avoid his touch. “How does who I do or do not sleep with change anything? You guys know me.”

  “I need to know I can trust the man beside me out on the water. “ Richard blustered as he stepped between the two of them. “Right now, I don’t trust you behind me.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about?” Rudy grimaced. He struggled to keep a better handle on his temper. No matter how good it would feel to give in to his desire to haul off and finally slug Richard, the bastard would probably press charges. “Well, let me assure you, Richard, I haven’t been tempted to touch your little pin-dick once in all this time.”

  Jamie and Todd Stinson had been standing further back on the deck letting the other two talk for them, and Rudy swung around to face them. “Do you guys agree with this bullshit?” He asked.

  The two of them wouldn’t look at him either. They just stared at the deck, brown hair falling over their foreheads and hiding the misery evident on their faces. Rudy could almost find it in him to feel sorry for the twins; he did after all know what it was like to have to go along with Richard just for the opportunity to race. But his sympathy vanished with Justin’s next words.

  “You know we’ll refund your fees after the race, and Rudy, listen—if you don’t make a fuss, we won’t either.”

  Rudy could only stare at the men he thought were his friends, and the man he hoped might have become something more. His mouth opened and closed on words he knew were better left unsaid in reply to Justin’s implied threat before his lips tightened into a thin line, and he turned and simply walked away.

  THE seat of the rough, wooden picnic table outside the convenience store was damp, but at least it was in the shadows and offered Rudy an opportunity to stop his aimless walking. The exterior of the store was decorated for the upcoming weekend, and the colorful streamers and banner that read “Welcome Racers” seemed to mock him every time he looked at it. Rudy blinked and wiped at his face with a shaking hand.

  Rudy couldn’t remember when he had last been this mad. His emotions were jumbled up inside him, and all he could think was that he really wanted to punch something. He felt so strange, like when he was out on the water and a wave unexpectedly dropped the deck under his feet. Rudy couldn’t believe he had been thrown off the boat for nothing other than what he was at his very core and not for anything he had done.

  He supposed he should count himself lucky so far in life. Even in high school, he hadn’t experienced much more than the occasional joke by a few low-brows about his open preferences, no different than the ribbing they gave the geeks or the stoners.

  It simply hadn’t been anything he had spent any time thinking about. Sure, Rudy had talked with other guys who had lived it, and he had read articles about discrimination, but to actually experience it himself?

  Rudy’s head pounded. He pulled at the elastic band that held his hair back at the nape of his neck and released the mass of dark curls he never could remember to have cut. He needed to plan, but all he could think about was how much it hurt when Justin hadn’t stood up for him.

  So what the hell was he supposed to do now? He had used his available cash to pay all the necessary race fees and had planned to sleep on the boat. In the long run Rudy was pretty sure he’d get his money back. At least, he hoped Justin would keep his word on that.

  Not that it helped him right now. Rudy didn’t dare charge a hotel room and stress his credit card’s already heavy balance. Besides, he had planned to use the miracle of plastic to help pay his regular bills during this unpaid time off.

  But without a berth in the race, Rudy guessed he should probably just find a ride back to Grand Rapids and get to work. That would be the smartest thing to do. But he was damned if he’d let them do this to him. Rudy may not have had many goals in his life, but he had one.

  He wanted to be an old goat.

  The title was an honorary one, given to the small club that had made twenty-five of the exhilarating runs of the Bayview Port Huron to Mackinac Race. It entitled the bearer to free drinks at several of the bars; free turns out on the lake, and the unswerving attention of those they chose to share their tales with. Rudy wanted that kind of respect.

  It was hard to explain to anyone who had never sailed competitively about the allure of spending three days sweating and working non-stop in damp, cold, and usually hazardous conditions with little to no sleep.

  But to someone who understood—the electricity, the transcendent feeling of being one with the water and the sky, and the pounding rush of adrenaline at the moment when wind, wave, and sail synchronized into one amazing unit—it was worth everything.

  Worse yet, Rudy knew that without an opportunity to crew or a chance to prove himself he didn’t have a hope of ever running this race on a decent boat again once the guys got done with him. He didn’t trust them to keep their mouths shut, and whatever garbage they spilled would stick even if it wouldn’t be the truth.

  Rudy knew how it worked. He had seen it before. Personality conflicts were common in the close quarters required by racing, but they could be brushed aside if you were skilled enough. A sailor was only as good as his reputation, after all, his reputation and his last race. Without either of those two things, he was nothing.

  III

  “RUDY.” The sound of his name startled Rudy before he had come to any real decision about what to do next. The voice was ragged and breathless as if the owner had been hurrying but Rudy recognized it all the same.

  Great. Now what? Rudy wondered.

  “Justin.” Rudy straightened his spine and tried to look casual as he pressed back against the hard edge of the picnic table. He stared up at the man he thought was his friend, angered by the small bubble of hope Justin’s presence brought. Rudy had to squint to see Justin’s face in the murky shadows although the streetlight behind Justin cast a halo around his body.

  “What are you doing here?” Rudy looked pointedly around Justin. He knew Justin would get his meaning. “Richard didn’t try to stop you?”

  From the tightening of Justin’s lips barely visible to him in the dark, Rudy knew his cheap shot had been an accurate one. “Richard doesn’t have anything to do with this.” Justin said stiffly as he gestured to the bench Rudy was sitting on. “Can I sit down?”

  “What’s the point?” Rudy knew he sounded bitter, but honestly, what was there to talk about? It wasn’t like Richard was going to change his mind. There had been too much malicious glee in his face when he’d finally found his chance to get rid of Rudy.

  “Don’t be like this.” Justin ignored Rudy’s glare and sat beside him anyway. The toe of his tennis shoe pushed Rudy’s duffle aside to nudge at Rudy’s foot. “You don’t have to act like this.”