“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 herdown!
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’vekept 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.
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 lovewillingly, 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 toclean.”
“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?
Visions of the night Bailey drowned flashed through the dark caverns of his mind. He remembered treading the water, calling Bailey’s name. He remembered studying the surface for some sign of his brother and finding none. He remembered the despair and shock that followed.
It occurred to him he was in the water for the first time since that night. His fear of losing Sam and Caden had superseded his fear of the water.
He lifted his head, drawing a deep breath, and looked for them over the gentle swells. He caught sight of Caden’s orange cap and Sam’s wet hair, and relief washed through him. Caden flailed, and Sam went under. He remembered reading in the paper the summer before of a rescuer who was drowned by a panic-stricken swimmer.
Terror propelled his body forward.
Hang on, Sam!
He’d give his life for them in a heartbeat. He was still fifty yards off, a lifetime away for anyone fighting to stay afloat.
He could sense when he passed the point where the ocean moved toward shore. His speed increased, and he made better time. The undertow was strong, assisting his progress.
Lifting his head to draw a breath, he saw Sam above water again. They were only several yards away now. “I’m coming!” He put his head down and plunged forward.
The last few yards seemed agonizingly long. Finally, his fingers touched something and he came up. Caden grabbed onto him first, and he wrapped an arm around her. She gasped for air, sobbing. “Grab on, Sam.” She must be relieved to have Caden’s weight removed. He didn’t know how she’d stayed afloat at all.
Sam grabbed onto his life vest. Fear glazed her eyes, and her breath came hard and fast.
He removed the life ring from his shoulder and put it over Caden’s head. “You’re okay, sweetie,” he said between breaths. “Lift your arms and hang on to the preserver. You’ll float. I’ve got you.” He helped her get the preserver on, having to pull one hand at a time off him and thread it through the hole. “Hang on to the sides, Caden.” The words were unnecessary; she grabbed the ring in a death clutch.
Landon reached underwater and untied the soggy strap of his life vest. When he’d worked the knot loose, he slipped it over his head and put it over Sam, then wrapped the strap around her waist and tied it securely. Sam clutched the vest with white fingers. Her body stilled, and she rested her head against the cushion.
Landon let go and kicked to stay buoyant. Caden’s sobs had quieted to shuddering breaths. He looked between them. “Everybody okay?”
Caden’s arms trembled and her teeth chattered. “H—how are we going to get back?”
The terror on her face broke him in half. He pulled her to him, pulled Sam to him, and held them there, careful not to put his weight on either of them. Sam leaned on his shoulder, and he set a kiss on the top of her wet head. He could have lost them both. If he’d been a little later, if he hadn’t looked for them, he would have lost them forever. The thought was a knife straight to his heart.
His legs began to fatigue, and he knew he’d let them rest as long as he dared. “Okay, girls, here’s what we’re going to do.” He pulled back and spoke with confidence. “We’ll swim parallel to the shore to the end of the riptide, then we’ll swim in.” He grabbed Sam’s life vest. “Grab Caden’s ring so we stay together.” Sam did as he asked.
“Ready?” he asked.
They nodded.
The three of them began their trek down the shoreline, swimming slowly as a chain, but Landon used his strength to pull them along. Sam kicked as much as she could but needed frequent breaks. He imagined her legs must be shot. His own were beginning to burn.
He kept his face in the water, using large strokes and drawing breath when necessary. After what seemed like an hour, he turned them in gradually, at an angle to the shore. His fingers, clamped on Sam’s vest, were a knotted spasm, and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen, but he kept going. He could tell by their progress that they were finally free of the riptide. Survival was only a matter of persistence now.
Sam began kicking harder, seeming to sense the end of the ordeal, and Caden also showed a renewed burst of energy as they neared shore. When they approached the end of a dock, Landon let his feet sink below him and felt the blessed sensation of solid ground. His feet sank into the silt.
Sam, too, stood upright, and they walked Caden in until she could stand. As they left the water, Caden’s legs wobbled, and Landon wrapped an arm around her, keeping her upright until they reached the shore.
There, Sam and Caden fell on the grass, eyes closed, chests heaving, seemingly heedless of the sand sticking to their faces. Landon lowered himself beside them, taking deep gulps of air. “Everyone okay? Caden?”
He touched her shoulder, and she turned toward him. Twilight had fallen, and he couldn’t see well enough to read her expression. “I’m . . . okay.”
“Sam?” He laid his hand on her wet head, and she nodded.
He lay back against the grass and dragged in air as fast as he could. His girls were safe, and that was all that mattered.
S
am lifted the covers and let Caden slide between the sheets. Her hair, still damp from the warm bath, fanned out on the pillow.
Sam pulled the quilt to Caden’s chin, then laid her hand against her daughter’s forehead. “You all right?”
Caden closed her eyes and nodded. Sam watched her for a moment, the realization that she’d almost lost her daughter hitting her like a hurricane-force wind. She ran her fingers down her cheek, and Caden suddenly opened her eyes.