Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (32 page)

“Caden.” She called her daughter’s name over a gust of wind and the sound of water rushing the shoreline. When there was no answer, she wondered if Caden had gone off on her bike without asking. But when she turned back to the house, she saw it leaning cockeyed on its kickstand next to Sam’s.

“Caden!” Sam raised her voice to encompass the nearby yards. Her daughter’s last words echoed in Sam’s mind, underscoring Caden’s state of mind. Sam’s legs carried her quickly down the slope of the shoreline and to the pier, her heart tripping in her chest. Her feet took the planks of the pier quickly, thudding along its length. She looked down toward Landon’s pier, where Caden liked to swim because of the sandy bottom.

“Caden!” she called again, lifting her hand to block the light of the setting sun. Above the whoosh of the wind whipping around her ears, she heard a voice. She scanned the water, moving from the shore to farther out to sea.

Sam saw the beach ball first, a small dot on the surface of the water. Then she saw Caden’s orange swim cap bobbing next to it. Her daughter waved frantically.

Sam’s heart leaped up into her throat and stuck. She dove into the water, then kicked furiously to reach the surface. Her arms worked to propel her through the water.
Caden! Hang on, honey!
She was at least fifty yards out. A riptide must have caught her. Sam knew the strength of the undertow. She’d experienced the panic of being caught in one, but she was older than Caden then and knew what to do. Every summer it happened on the island. Some were lucky enough to be rescued; others were featured in the obituary column a few days later.

Sam pulled her head from the water and located Caden, then redoubled her efforts.
Please, God, let me get to her!
Her muscles worked hard, driving her as fast as they could through the cold water.

Sam gulped in air, then turned her head down, taking in salt water. She lifted her face, sputtering, then stopped long enough to find Caden. Sam saw the beach ball, floating farther to the east than Caden had been swimming, but where was her daughter?

There. She flailed several yards from the ball. How long could Caden stay afloat without it? Alarm rippled through Sam.

“Mommy!” Her plea was a watery gasp.

“I’m coming!” She kicked forward, panic pushing her faster than before.
Oh, God, let her be okay! Don’t let her drown!
Periodically, Caden’s cries penetrated the water in her ears, reassuring her.

Sam lifted her head and saw her daughter only a few yards away. She closed the distance and reached for Caden.

Her daughter’s flailing arms seized onto hers. “Mommy!” She clutched at Sam, her weight sinking them both. Sam kicked to stay buoyant.

“Caden. It’s okay, baby,” she gasped. “It’s okay.”

Caden’s skinny arms were around her, her head turned up to avoid the water. She clawed at Sam’s shoulders.

“Calm down, Caden.” Her own breathing was labored, her legs fatigued. She looked toward shore. It seemed a hundred miles away and growing farther by the minute. The ball bobbed away toward the horizon.

Caden’s sobs pierced Sam’s thoughts. The girl’s fingers pressed down on Sam’s shoulders, boosting her body out of the water. Sam kicked harder. “Honey, you have to calm down.”

Her daughter’s breaths were so rapid, Sam feared she would hyperventilate.
She took Caden’s face in her hands and leaned back, forcing eye contact. Panic laced Caden’s eyes, and fear shadowed her face.

“Caden, listen,” Sam said firmly. “You have to calm down, or you’re going to drown us both.”

“Help, Mommy!”

“I am, but you have to—” A cold swell slapped Sam on the side of her face. She coughed, clearing her lungs. “You have to settle down, understand? It’s going to be okay.”

“I lost the ball . . .” she wailed.

“I’m here now; you’re going to be okay.” Caden’s weight pushed her down, and Sam kicked again. Her ankle throbbed, but it was the least of her worries.

Water lapped up toward Caden’s shoulders, and Sam watched a shiver of alarm run across her face. There was no chance of getting her to float on her back. And Sam wouldn’t be able to support her daughter’s weight on her body. She was too tired to stay afloat much longer. Why hadn’t she grabbed a life preserver from the shed? But all she’d thought about was getting to Caden.

“Remember—” Sam gulped in a breath. “Remember what I told you about riptides? How they run along the shore?”

“I’m scared!”

Sam squeezed her face, her fingers making dimples in Caden’s cheeks. “Listen to me, Caden! We need to swim along the shore to the end of the riptide.” She sucked in a few breaths. “I’m going to get us to shore, but I need your help.”

Caden’s body shook, and tears poured down her face.

“I’m going to pull you along. You need to turn on your back and try to float. Kick your feet if you can.”

Sam turned Caden and hooked her arm around her daughter’s chest. “Let’s go.” She tried to side swim, but Caden was fighting her, thrashing in the water. “Float, Caden! Kick your feet.”

She kicked hard, her upper body stiff and straining against Sam’s arm. They began to move. Her fingers dug into Sam’s bicep. She heard Caden gasping for breath, heard her own labored breathing, and wondered how they would make it.
Please, God, I can’t let her
down!

They made agonizingly slow progress. Sam prayed the riptide was short and would turn toward shore soon. “Come on, baby, kick!”

They might as well have been on a watery treadmill. For every stroke they made, the water undid their efforts. Sam’s lungs burned with the need for oxygen. She needed to rest.

She let her legs sink under her. “Hang on,” she gasped, holding Caden against her and kicking to stay afloat.

“I’m tired . . .” Caden cried, catching her breath, clutching at Sam.

“It’s going to be okay,” she assured her daughter. “We need to swim a little farther.” She waited, taking in air. She held on to Caden tightly, trying to alleviate her panic, give her a sense of security. “Are you ready?”

Caden sucked in a wobbly breath and nodded. They started off again down the coast. Each inch of progress was laborious. “Kick, Caden!” They would never make it at this rate. Despair began to settle in, and she fought the same panic her daughter was feeling.

Keep going, Sam. Ignore the pain and keep going. For Caden
.
You’ve
kept her safe all her life; you can’t fail her now.

The thought of failing her was enough to give Sam a burst of energy. She used her free arm, making large strokes, and kicked harder. After a few minutes, she turned toward shore and pressed on.

Were they getting somewhere? Though her eyes were closed, her head down, she thought she could feel progress.

Sam continued until she had to stop for air. Her legs relaxed for the few seconds it took to get them under her. The rest felt like heaven, and she didn’t want to kick again, but she had no choice. She pulled Caden close to her, both of them holding their chins up and dragging in air.

Sam looked toward the shore and gauged the distance. It was then she realized they were still being tugged away from shore. They hadn’t swum past the riptide. And she didn’t know if she had the energy to go on much longer. She thought of her daughter, who depended on her. Was she going to let Caden down when she needed Sam most? Sam couldn’t bear the thought. She couldn’t bear the thought of Caden dying.

If only someone were outside, but the shoreline was deserted. Caden’s fingers slipped on her wet shoulder, and she clutched at Sam.

“Kick your feet,” Sam said.

Caden turned her wide brown eyes up to Sam. A fresh batch of tears trembled on her lashes, and her teeth chattered. “I don’t want to die, Mommy.”

Sam pulled her close and held her tightly with one hand, using the other to stay buoyant. All her life Sam had done what was necessary to survive, and she’d done it on her own. She’d always managed to get them through, but now she wondered if she wasn’t enough, if she wasn’t strong enough to do this most important thing.

But this time, the cost of failure was death.

Thirty-two

L
andon loaded two full bags into his Jeep, then started the vehicle and pulled out of the Stop & Shop parking lot.

He heard Max nosing through one of the bags. “No, Max.” The dog sat on the backseat and looked out the window.

He couldn’t believe Sam and Caden were leaving tomorrow. They’d stormed into his life and in a few short weeks changed everything. And yet tomorrow they’d leave, and life would return to the way it was. Except now his heart was broken beyond repair.

A taxi pulled out in front of him, and he slowed the Jeep. He fantasized about jumping on the ferry and going back to Boston with Sam. If she wouldn’t stay here, he’d gladly go with her. Only one thing stopped him.

She had to want him. It had to be her decision.

He braked for a red light, watching a bicyclist lean into the turn, and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He could call her in Boston. He could write letters and send e-mail. He checked his thoughts. Once she left on that ferry, he knew his chance was gone. If he couldn’t persuade her with his presence, what hope did he have in his absence?

He pulled onto his street, passing a neighbor walking his dog. He had to put Sam’s departure from his mind and use the time wisely.
You have tonight and tomorrow, Reed. Make it count.
The sun was low in the sky now, and twilight would follow, signaling the end of the day. He wished he could reach out and halt the sun in the sky, stopping time. But in his gut he knew Sam didn’t need more time. She needed a change of heart, and that was out of his control.

You wouldn’t want it any other way
.
If she won’t give you her love
willingly, what would it mean, really?
Some things had to be given freely or not at all.

He passed his own driveway, then Miss Biddle’s, and turned into Sam’s. Max stood as Landon turned the key, then the dog hopped over the seat and out his door. Landon grabbed the two bags and approached the house.

The front door opened easily. He entered the house and headed toward the kitchen. “I’m back,” he called. No one answered, so he set the bags on the kitchen table and peeked in the bedrooms. “Sam? Caden?”

He thought Sam would be cleaning, and he’d intended to help. Where were they? Then he remembered a conversation from earlier in the day.

“Can I go swimming one last time, Mom?”

“I’m not sure there’ll be time. After we finish all this, I still have to
clean.”

“Please? Just for a little while.”

Landon had left the room at that point, but Sam must have agreed. He walked
out the back door and across the porch. The pier was empty, and so was the shoreline. He stood with his hands on his hips, scanning the bay.

“Sam?”

His only answer was the ruffling of leaves as the wind tousled them. A second later, he heard the pounding of paws. Max rounded the corner of the house and came to lean against Landon’s leg. Landon absently rubbed him behind the ears.

“Where are they, buddy?” He walked through the grass, across Miss Biddle’s yard and toward his own pier. Maybe Caden was over there. Wherever she was swimming, Sam would be nearby. She didn’t let Caden out of her sight when the girl was in the water.

But when he approached his pier, he found it empty. Strange. Remembering Sam getting locked in the shed, he considered checking it, but he’d fixed the doorknob. There was no way to get locked in now. They couldn’t have gone anywhere, because their bikes were at the back of the house. Miss Biddle’s car wasn’t in her drive, so Sam wasn’t there.

The wind died down, and now all he heard was the water lapping the shoreline. The silence was unnerving. A sudden thought caught in his mind. What if she’d left? Loaded their things on the ferry and headed back to the mainland? Would she leave without saying good-bye?

A sound caught his attention. A voice calling from far away. He turned his head, listening. It was coming from the water. He dashed down his yard, down the pier, his eyes searching.

Something floated on the surface, beyond his yard. A bright orange dot and another spot beside it. His stomach dropped to the bottom of his feet like an anchor.

Caden and Sam. They were out too far. The wind carried a voice that called for help.
Sam.
He didn’t see the bright orange of a life vest.

He had to get to them. He started to dive off the pier, but reason pierced his fog of fear. He couldn’t save both of them, especially if they were panicking. It took everything in him to turn and dash toward his shed. His feet pounded the deck boards, then the short grass. He threw open the shed door and grabbed a life vest and a preserver from the hooks on the wall.

Landon ran toward the water, throwing the vest over his head and tying a hasty knot as he went.

When he reached the end of the pier, he shed his shoes. “Stay, Max!” he ordered, then dove headfirst and kicked to the surface. The life ring hampered his stokes, but they would need it when he reached them.

Oh, God, let me get there in time.
How long had they been out there? Were they still afloat? He couldn’t take time to look. His legs kicked efficiently, his hands slicing through the water. What if he didn’t reach them in time? What if he couldn’t find them when he got out there?