Wandering Heart (9781101561362) by Katherine Thomas; Spencer Kinkade, Katherine Spencer Page A

some scenes on the island this week.”
    “A real movie or a commercial? Are you a model?”
    “I was for a short time … Now I’m an actress, Charlotte Miller.” She paused, trying to gauge his reaction. But his back was turned as he fixed the tea and she couldn’t see his expression. When he finally turned, he looked a bit surprised but didn’t seem exactly overwhelmed.
    “Sure. I’ve heard of you.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “How do you like your tea? I don’t have milk or lemon but I have a packet of sugar around here somewhere.”
    “Plain is fine,” she said. When he handed her the mug, she thought she noticed a spark of humor in his blue eyes. Was he putting her on? Did he really not recognize her or was that an act?
    Lately, Charlotte enjoyed it when people didn’t recognize her and she could walk around with some anonymity. But for some reason, she wanted this man to know who she was. She wanted him to be impressed. Just a little.
    She held the mug in both hands and blew on the tea. Just holding the cup warmed her.
    “Wow, Charlotte Miller …” He pulled a yellow slicker off a hook over the bunk and shook his head. “The guys on the dock will never believe me. I might get the prize for biggest catch of the summer. You even top the fifty-pound lobster Crawley brought in last August.”
    Charlotte felt weak and tired, actually dizzy. But she had to smile at the comparison.
    “Gee, thanks. No one’s ever compared me to a big crustacean before.”
    “Yeah, well … I think you beat the crustacean. But there will be some debate, I’m sure.”
    “Are you a fisherman?” She blew on her tea and glanced over at him.
    “Yes, ma’am, I am. It’s hard work. But it has its moments. You never know what’s going to swim into your net, that’s for sure.”
    He was teasing her again. Charlotte had to smile but wasn’t up to any clever banter. She was so tired, she could hardly keep her eyes open.
    He took a towel from another hook and handed it to her. “This one is clean. You can use it for your hair.”
    She glanced at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She touched her hair with her hand and felt a tangled, matted mess. She wouldn’t doubt there was some seaweed stuck in there as well.
    “I’m going above. We should be at the dock in a few minutes. If you need anything, just holler.”
    Charlotte nodded and watched him climb the short flight of wooden steps to the deck. A few moments later she heard the boat motor start and they were underway. The sturdy boat plowed through the choppy sea, bouncing as it hit the waves. Charlotte felt seasick again, but the hot tea seemed to help.
    She wondered how long she had been gone from the film crew. It was hard to tell. Once she fell in the water, it was all a blur in her memory. It could have been hours or only a few minutes.
    She wondered if everyone on the set knew she had been picked up by the fishing boat. Maybe the lifeguard on the skiff had seen her rescued. She hoped so. It would be awful if they all thought she had drowned.
    Charlotte moved from the hard bench to the bunk and turned to look out the small window. It was still raining, and she couldn’t see much through the thick, smudged glass.
    She suddenly realized that she didn’t know her rescuer’s name. He must think she was horribly self-involved and rude. The man saved her life, and she hadn’t even thanked him. She had to say something, right away.
    Charlotte grasped the railing with one hand and her blanket with the other as she slowly climbed up to the deck. The waves were still rough, but the rain had tapered off to a fine drizzle.
    She saw him up in the boat’s cockpit, which was a few more steps above the deck. He stood at the wheel, staring at the sea. He was tall, Charlotte noticed. Tall and slender, wearing worn jeans and big boots. He hadn’t changed out of any of his wet clothes, only pulled on the rain slicker, but he must have been accustomed to being wet,