open. With all the misconduct allegations flying around these days, why take chances?
“Okay.” She swallowed . . . grasped his hand . . . and eased one foot onto the gunwale.
The craft gave an almost imperceptible bob as she transferred her weight, and she gasped. Tightened her grip.
“You’re fine. I’ve got you. Just step down.”
She followed his instructions, but the maneuver was downright clumsy, and the instant both her feet were on the deck she groped for the seat and collapsed onto it in an awkward sprawl.
Pretty as his visitor was, she seemed to have been shortchanged in the gracefulness department.
And the pink hue that crept over her cheeks suggested she knew that.
He took a seat at the far end of the stern, leaving plenty of space between them. “You have the floor . . . or the deck.” He hiked up one side of his mouth. Holly Miller appeared to be wound up tight as the ubiquitous black turban snails that clung to the rocks on Oregon beaches. Perhaps a touch of humor would help her chill.
Didn’t work.
Her lips remained flat—and taut—as she set the folder in her lap, picked a speck of lint off her jeans, and zipped up her windbreaker as far as it would go. “Are you familiar with the Helping Hands volunteer organization here in town?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m on a committee that’s putting together a dinner auction to raise funds for a new pro-life initiative. Everyone involved is soliciting auction items. Reverend Baker at Grace Christian mentioned you as a potential donor. That’s why I’m here.”
Steven stifled a groan.
This was the thanks he got for letting Cindy not only pressure him into helping with the holiday food drive at a church to which he didn’t even belong, but allowing her to drag him across the room for an introduction to the minister.
Proving the truth of the old adage that no good deed went unpunished.
Worse yet, of all the causes his visitor could be soliciting for, why did it have to be this one?
When the silence lengthened, she cleared her throat. “I was, uh, hoping you’d consider donating a charter fishing trip for two—or four, if possible. Everyone we’ve contacted has been very generous. I spoke this morning with the owner of the Seabird Inn B&B, and he offered a weekend romance package for one of his rooms.”
If she was hoping to guilt him into donating, it wasn’t going to work.
“What will the money you raise be used for?” He could guess, but the stall tactic would buy him a few seconds to figure out how to decline without coming across as a heartless jerk.
She opened the folder on her lap, withdrew a sheet of paper, and held it out to him. “This explains the effort in detail, but topline, we’ll establish a fund to support efforts that protect life in all its stages. One example would be providing financial assistance to abortion alternatives, like paying expenses for women who agree to carry their babies to term and linking them with adoption agencies. We may also get involved in issues like capital punishment.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s your beef with capital punishment?”
She met his gaze square on. “Killing is killing.”
“Putting a guilty person to death is called justice. And it keeps that person from taking other innocent lives.”
“A lifetime prison sentence does too.”
“At a huge expense to taxpayers.”
“How do you put a price on a life?”
“There are practical considerations.”
“Also ethical ones.”
Squelching the temptation to continue the debate, he skimmed the sheet she’d handed him. This wasn’t a subject on which they were going to agree, so why argue on his birthday . . . or extend an encounter that was going south? This day had been depressing enough.
“Let me think about it.” He folded the sheet into a small square, tucked it in the pocket of his jacket, and stood.
She gave a slow blink at his abrupt dismissal—but after a slight hesitation she rose too.
And almost lost her balance.
Again.
He took her arm in a firm grip. “Steady.”
“Sorry. I’m a landlubber through and through.” She flashed him a shaky smile.
That could be true—but it didn’t explain her equilibrium issues.
The same kind Patrick had on occasion.
Yet this woman, with her clear hazel eyes, didn’t strike him as the type who would struggle with his brother’s problem.
Appearances could be deceiving, though. That’s why you had to fact find, then make decisions using the evidence you uncovered . . . always keeping the greater good in mind.