Chapter Thirty-Three

"Do you know how to fish?"

"Why didn't you ask me that question before you arranged this little trip?" she asked with a puckish smile.

"Because it didn't matter until now."

She huffed and looked away. "I've never used a casting rod."

"What other kind of rod is there?"

"A fly rod."

Trapper had been slightly bent, addressing Leah as she sat in one of the fighting chairs. Now, he stood up straight, and arched a brow in surprise. "You fly fish?"

She lifted her chin rather arrogantly. "Yes. I tie flies, too."

"Well, forget everything you know. Salt water fishing isn't anything like it," he said, turning and picking up a long salt water rod and reel. He took a breath before he began his explanation, but she interrupted him.

"Can't you use a fly rod surf fishing?"

"Well, yes, but we're on a boat, remember?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "Now, as I was saying…" Trapper explained the use of each rod and reel, and then went through the bait and what each rod should be used for. When she yawned, he stopped abruptly.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she said, "I'm sorry. I feel like I've been up forever. What time is it?"

Scowling, Trapper looked at his watch. "It's eight."

She yawned again. "Breakfast?"

He folded his lips into a straight line and blew out his nose. "I tell you what. Why don't you go fix us some breakfast while I get these lines baited and ready?" Laughing, she eased out of the chair, sliding by him when he stubbornly refused to move out of her way. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Put a man on a fishing boat and he becomes a fishing fiend," she said, still laughing as she went down into the galley. Fifteen minutes later, she returned with a fresh pot of coffee, two cups and forks, a bowl of fruit, nuts and berries, toasted and buttered English muffins, and sliced cheese. "Dr. McIntyre, I'm impressed with your shopping prowess." Hovering over her, he raised his brows and gave her an expectant glare. "What?" she asked puzzled.

"Dr. McIntyre?"

Biting her lip, she answered meekly, "Trapper."

With a satisfied grin, he moved a table within reach of the two fighting chairs, relieved her of her burden, and then motioned her back over to her chair. "We're going to start by teaching you how to cast from your chair. You don't have to cast far; just enough to get your bait away from the back of the boat. We're letting the boat drift, so the line will go out on its own. Once it's out about twenty feet, you're going to lock your reel like this," he said, showing her the lock and setting it. "And then you wait until you get a bite. You'll probably feel some small nibbles first. Don't set the hook until you feel a strong bite. Any questions?"

"What happens if it's a really big fish? Won't it pull the rod out of my hands?"

"No. You're rod will be attached to your harness."

"Well, won't a really big fish pull me out of the boat?" she asked with wide eyes.

He laughed. "You're harness will be attached to your chair."

She tilted her head down to see where the chair was attached to the boat, and satisfied, she looked back up with an agreeable smile and a quick nod.

"Your chair, my dear," he said, taking her hand and helping her in. "I'm going to leave the foot board up so that your knees are bent. I don't want you landing a fish so big you need to stand and use your body weight."

"What happens if I get one that big?"

"I'll stand behind you and help you with the rod." When she pouted, he smirked. "Take it or leave it." She acquiesced and sat back in her chair. "Lean up so we can get your harness on." Slipping the harness around her, he reached around and fastened it in front, and then showed her how to fasten the harness to the chair. Walking in front of her, he lifted the rod and slipped it into the rod holder between her legs. Next, he reached down between the chair and the rod holder, grabbing the end of a strap that was dangling from her harness. "This end fastens onto the rod like this," he said, showing her where to attach the strap to the rod. "Your harness doesn't hold you back in the seat. It's designed to stop you from coming completely out of the chair, but gives you room to lean back and forth. That allows you to reach your bait bucket on your right, your tools on your left, and your coffee on the table. It also allows you to cast. Now, sit tight while I get my harness on."

She watched as he prepared himself, but rather than sitting in his chair, he picked up another rod and walked back to her. "You'll have a second rod here on your chair. This rod will be weighted to drag or almost drag on the bottom."

"We're interested in bottom feeders?" she asked, grimacing.

Leaning against her chair, he asked teasingly, "You do like sole?" She smiled agreeably. "And halibut?"

"All right, I get it."

"When you see play in the tip of this rod, you'll unhook the rod in front of you and move it to the rod holder over there," he said, pointing to the far arm of her chair, "and you'll move this one center, and bring the fish in. I'll show you how to remove the hook the first time, and then we'll talk about what we can keep and what we have to throw back, and if we keep it, which well to put it in."

She blew out of her mouth and frowned. "Maybe I should just watch you fish. Ocean fishing is complicated."

"Not on your life. Besides, you're almost ready to fish. I just need to show you how to cast."

After her first few casts left her bait on the deck of the boat and Trapper's chin propped on his hand, patiently watching, she finally cast it over the back and into the water. Casting her second rod seemed much easier, and he shook his head and chuckled his way to his chair after watching her victory dance in front of hers.

Glancing over to make sure her harness was secured to the chair, he fastened his own, and cast his two rods. She sat eagerly anticipating a bite with both hands on the center rod, looking over at Trapper and smiling occasionally. After twenty minutes, her shoulders slumped, she let her rod lean forward on its own, reached back for a cup of coffee and speared a piece of fruit on a fork. "At least, when I'm fly fishing, I'm moving."

"Pass me one of those, will you?"

"Coffee or fruit?"

"Both."

"How long is this going to take?" she asked as she passed him a cup of coffee.

"We'll start getting bites after the chum spreads out."

"Chum?" she said, passing a fork bearing a strawberry and a chunk of cantaloupe.

He took a sip of coffee and whistled. "That's hot. Ground up fish. I threw a chum line in while you were practicing your casting."

"Isn't that cheating?" she said with a mischievous smile.

"Look at it this way. The ocean is big body of water, so it stands to reason the fish are fairly well spread out, right?" She shrugged. "The chum will attract them, but you still have to get them to take your bait," he said, winking. "And speaking of taking your bait, your other rod is twitching."

"Oh," she said in a little squeal, dropping her cup and fork on the table. She closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself, unfastened her center rod, moving it to her left, and then moved the bending rod to the center rod holder, attaching the strap.

"Now, move your hands further up on the rod, lean forward, and now pull back."

"How do you know this isn't a big fish?"

"Because it's not really bending the rod that much. Now, as you lean forward again, reel in some line."

By the time she got the fish to the boat, Trapper was out of his chair ready to bring it up on deck. "This is a halibut. Come over here, and I'll show you how to figure out if we can keep it." They measured the fish, determined how many they could catch, and then put the fish in one of the two live wells. Putting his arm around her shoulders and walking her back to her chair, he asked, "How does it feel to bring in your first fish?"

She smiled and blushed at the same time, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It was fun."

"Good. Now go bait your rod and cast again."

"Bait my rod?" she asked warily as she followed him back to his chair.

"Yes, bait your rod. I showed you how," he said, fastening his harness to his chair. Just as he secured his rod, the tip bent. "Got something here," he said, straining to pull the rod back and laughing. "It's a big one."

"Should I do something?"

"Watch…and learn."