Barefoot Summer Read Online Free Page B

her chest.
    The wind pulled at her hair as she buckled the vest. She should’ve put her hair up, but it was too late now. Besides, that was the least of her worries. She listened as Beckett explained how to start the boat, trying hard to commit his instructions to memory.
    But as he moved the boat from the slip, out of the marina, it was hard to focus on anything but the water, deepening each second, rippling under the wind.
    You can do this, Madison. You’re a McKinley. Made of tough stock.
    She continued the pep talk until they were in the open river. He eased off the throttle, and as their forward momentum slowed, the boat began to pitch in the water.
    “You gonna sit there all day, or you want to learn how to hoist the sails?”
    She lifted her chin, loosened her grip on the rail, and slowly navigated to where he stood, her legs shaky on the moving boat.
    When she reached his side, she gripped the nearest rail.
    “Both the strength and direction of the wind are important in setting the sails and controlling the boat. You can basically sail any direction except directly into the wind—that’s called ‘in irons.’”
    He went into the difference between true wind and apparent wind and started talking about positions.
    It was all Madison could do to hang on to his words. That same choking fear she’d experienced on her first-grade field trip rose into her chest, swelling and heavy like a lead balloon.
    She wanted off the lurching boat, wanted to plant her feet on still, dry ground. Come on. You can do this .
    “You’re not listening,” Beckett said.
    “Yes, I am,” she said automatically.
    “What did I just say?”
    She rewound the tape in her head. Nothing. She went back to the last subject she remembered. “You were . . . talking about broad reach . . . and running.”
    “That was five minutes ago.”
    “Well, pardon me for dozing off during your scintillating lecture. Are we going to get the sails up or what?”
    His lips flattened. “Fine.” He approached the mast and began working. After a minute he stopped suddenly, turning. “You coming?”
    Madison forced herself to leave the rail. She clutched every handhold in her path as she made her way toward him.
    His movements were jerky as he worked the doohickey. A frown furrowed between his brows, and the line of his jaw was tight. It was more obvious by the minute he didn’t want to be here.
    Well, that made two of them.
    “Got it?” he asked after he finished his explanation.
    She should be used to him. In high school his gruff behavior had hurt her feelings—even scared her a little, given his reputation for trouble. And though she was now past the petty teenage drama, her nerves had had about all they could take.
    “Look,” she said, “I’m not happy about this either. I bid on lessons with Evan Higgins, not you. But I need to learn to sail and race, and I paid fair and square, so maybe you can just put on your big boy pants and teach me.”
    “Maybe if you let go of your white-knuckle grip on the shroud I would.”
    She automatically loosened her fingers. They ached from clenching them so long.
    “Look, this is pointless,” he said. “You can’t be out here trying to control a four-thousand-pound boat when you’re scared to death of water.”
    So much for hiding it. “I’m going to do this. I have to learn.”
    “You’re gonna hurt yourself or someone else. You lose concentration for one second, that boom’ll come flying across the boat, and you’re a goner.”
    “I get it. I do. I’ll—I’ll get over my . . . my trepidation.” Fear was such a strong word.
    He gestured toward her death grip. “I can’t teach you like this.”
    Her fingers had curled right back around the shroud. Andshe couldn’t seem to let go. Especially when a passing motorboat sent their boat rocking from side to side. Her breath caught in her throat and her arms stiffened, holding her steady, even as her heart rocked as wildly as the boat.
    He turned,