by Merry Farmer
He swallowed and took Louisa’s arm, leading her away to the quiet front of the boat.
“Maybe he said something stupid to her before he stopped to think about it,” he finished, a bright flush growing across his cheeks.
Louisa fought hard not to smirk. She doubted Rowan McBride had ever said a word without thinking about it for ten days beforehand. The undeniable soft spot she had in her heart for Andrew softened further. She let him lead her up to the tip of the front deck, out of sight of the rest of the guests. When he gestured for her to sit on the cross plank where the sides of the yacht met in a point, she obeyed.
“Louisa,” he sat beside her, “I’ve made so many mistakes. I don’t know how I could ever make up for them. I can’t promise that I’ll never say anything stupid or upset you ever again. I can only promise that I will try not to.”
Excitement surged through Louisa’s chest, taking her breath away. It centered in her heart with eager anticipation and she leaned closer to him.
“I do have plans to make a success of myself,” he continued. “I do feel like those plans can benefit you as well as me. There’s no sense in pretending otherwise. I don’t want to use my success to run your life, but I’ve come to realize that my life couldn’t be considered success at all without you.”
He inched closer to her. Her face and hands tingled with expectancy.
“Louisa, I—”
A sharp scream and a splash cut short whatever he’d been about to say. More shouts and gasps echoed from the center of the boat, where the guests were assembled.
Louisa and Andrew jumped to their feet as the shouting from the guests grew louder. They ran back to the railing dividing the top deck from the middle deck in time to see Rowan frantically stripping off his coat. The railing where Gayle had been sitting moments before was empty.
Louisa gasped and dashed to the side of the boat. Gayle was in the water, thrashing desperately amidst a bloom of skirts. She kicked for all she was worth, but the layers of fabric were sucking her under with every move she made.
“Andrew,” Louisa gasped, turning into his arms as he pulled her tight. She wanted to hide her face against his shoulder as her friend drowned, but she couldn’t look away.
“Help! Help,” Gayle screamed, but continued to sink.
Seconds later Rowan had his shoes and vest off and dove into the water. C.J. and Mark and Henry hurried as fast as they could to shed their own party clothes, but Rowan was close to Gayle before the first of them hit the water.
“Rowan!” Gayle screamed, her plea turning into a sick gurgle as the weight of her fine dress pulled her under.
Louisa cried out and Andrew held her closer. Rowan dove under the darkening water. A moment of terrifying silence followed. The faint, light shape of Gayle’s dress and Rowan’s shirt disappeared. Several splashes sounded as the other men jumped in, one by one. Louisa shook in horror as Andrew held her. She searched wildly on the deck for Wren and saw her tucked in Jamie’s arms, head on his shoulder, her back heaving with sobs. Wren may not have been able to watch, but Louisa had to.
Her eyes snapped back to the water. Time seemed to drag on and on, and it felt as though the sun was sinking toward the horizon with impossible speed.
“Please, Lord,” she whispered, eyes streaming with tears. “Let them be safe.”
“Let them be safe,” Andrew whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
They waited, and waited.
A flurry of bubbles sloshed up from the spot where Gayle and Rowan had gone under. Louisa held her breath.
Seconds later Rowan’s head popped above the surface, followed quickly by Gayle’s. They both gasped with wrenching force. The other men in the water rushed to help them, grabbing hold to keep them from sinking again, and pulling them back toward the side of the yacht. Life preservers had been thrown into the water and the other men grabbed them and shoved them toward Rowan’s outstretched arm. He caught hold of one and pulled himself and Gayle toward it.
It took several of the men in the water and on board the yacht to haul Rowan and Gayle out of the sea. In spite of being limp and waterlogged, Gayle had a death-grip around Rowan’s neck and couldn’t let go. Whether Rowan was able to let go of her or not, it was hard to tell. As they were heaved out of the water and across the railing to spill onto the deck, Louisa noted that Gayle’s skirt was missing. She didn’t have time to consider anything else. Her friend was alive and safe.
Andrew let Louisa go so that she could run down to the middle deck and push her way through the frightened guests to Gayle’s side. Wren had just reached her from the other side, and crouched next to her and Rowan, white with terror. Both of them were coughing and retching water, but as soon as Gayle sensed her friends were there—holding her, rubbing her back, and trying to warm her—she let go of Rowan’s neck and fell toward them.
Louisa heard one of the older men shout, “Get us back to port,” above them, but her thoughts were only for her friend.
“You’re going to be all right.” She squeezed close to her shivering, frightened friend. “You’re going to be all right.”
Gayle sobbed and tried to speak, but she was still coughing too hard.
“Don’t try to talk.” Wren soothed her, hugging her close. “We’ve got you.”
The chaos on the deck began to subside. Andrew rushed to his brother as Jamie went to help the others who dove overboard climb back onto the yacht. The older women were dashing around looking for blankets, coats, anything to keep Gayle and Rowan warm, and to dry them off as they headed back to port and a hospital.
Louisa glanced around for Andrew as she and Wren helped Gayle to her feet and moved her away from the side of the yacht and into one of the cabins. Their eyes met, and for a moment Louisa felt a pang of regret that they had been interrupted.
It didn’t last long. There were things that were more important than the right words at the right time. She could have lost one of her dearest friends.
Realizing that, she said a quick prayer of thanks that Gayle had been saved. All of the tiny worries and fears didn’t make a lick of difference when she was faced with real loss.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured Gayle as they sat on the small bunk in the cabin. Both she and Wren cradled their friend as she calmed down and caught her breath. “Everything will be all right. We’re going home now.” She exchanged a quick smile with Wren, who was regaining her own color. “Here,” she tried to comfort both of her friends, “Let’s say the Lord’s Prayer together. All right? Our Father…”
The three of them prayed together, Gayle’s voice weak and breathless but growing stronger with her friends there to help her. Louisa had never meant the words more in her life. She closed her eyes and held her friends close. She had almost lost them by moving to England, and she had almost lost Gayle to the sea. But now she had them both back and more. Nothing else mattered, and in spite of the fear that still had her shaking, her heart was as joyful as it had ever been.
Chapter 13
Gayle and Rowan were rushed to the hospital as soon as they reached the shore. Gayle had come so perilously close to drowning when her dress pulled her under that the doctors considered it a small miracle that she had made it back to shore alive. If Rowan had been a few seconds slower, they said, she would surely have been lost.
Rowan hardly said anything about the accident. He accepted the treatment that the doctors gave him, insisting that attention be paid to Gayle and that all the support be given to her. He was able to go home to Cliff House later that evening, while Gayle was given a room for the night.
Louisa and Wren stayed with Gayle as long as they could, until they were asked to leave by the hospital staff. The very next day, they were back and ready to take her home where they could care for her. Everyone felt better having Gayle at home, and even though the ride to her house was out of the way for Louisa—especially as she was trying to work and come up with a way to stay on Cape Ann—she gladly made the trip. Whatever
her worries and concerns had been, however much she had feared for the uncertainties in her own life, they couldn’t hold a candle to the fear she had felt for her friend. Everything else could wait.
“You really don’t need to fuss over me so much,” Gayle complained a week after the accident. Wren and Louisa plumped the pillows around her as she reclined on a wicker couch on the Tagues’ back porch. The Tagues’ house stood on a hill overlooking the beach on the northern section of the cape. “I’m sure you both have better things to do than coddle me.”
“I have nothing better to do, believe me,” Louisa answered her with a stern frown.
“But Wren,” Gayle tried to argue, “surely your mother needs you for something.”
“She can manage without me.” Wren shook her head and went to the small table to fetch Gayle a raspberry tart.
Gayle took it reluctantly.
“You’re much, much too good to me.” She sighed and stared at the tart as though it were made of diamonds before nibbling on it. “I’ll never be able to repay you. I’ll never be able to repay—”
Wren and Louisa exchanged glances over her bowed head. Neither of them had had the courage to mention Rowan in anything more than general terms. He was undeniably a hero, but it was clear that Gayle’s feelings for him were as tangled as could be. Louisa had to have faith that the Lord would help Gayle to sort them out. After all, He had helped her sort out her feelings for Andrew.
“I truly am fine,” Gayle insisted once more. “My strength is returning. I’ve even been helping Mother around the house. Plus I’ve had all sorts of visitors, C.J., Mark, and the others.” She didn’t sound as excited about it as she once would have.
“The doctor said you should take it easy for the rest of the summer,” Wren reminded her, pouring a cup of tea and handing it to her.
“He said I should take it easy.” Gayle heaved an impatient sigh. “He didn’t say that you should as well. You’ve been spending all your time with me. I’m sure there are other people who have been completely neglected because of it.” She sent a pointed look to Louisa as if to prove her point.
Louisa’s cheeks burned bright. She hadn’t had a chance to share with either of her friends what she suspected Gayle’s accident had interrupted. Andrew had been so sweet and so earnest. She was almost certain he had been about to ask her a certain question again.
“There will be time enough to catch up with everyone else later.” She brushed aside Gayle’s speculative glance with a shrug. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Wren broke into a smile and hummed at those words. “I still love to hear you say that. Any word on possible situations yet?”
Louisa smiled secretly to herself. “Not quite yet. But I’m sure I’ll find something.”
When her friends grinned at her, expecting more, Louisa turned the topic of conversation.
“I heard that construction on the new chapel is going to start this week. They’re finally going to build it for real. No more of this tearing down the old.”
Both Wren and Gayle paused and exchanged glances before taking her bait.
“It’s a good thing too,” Wren spoke first. “I’ll be so happy to get out of the Clevelands’ barn.”
The three of them laughed together. “A new church, a new chance at life.” Gayle smiled with a maturity that her friends had rarely seen before. “And if everything goes well, the disturbances in the Church will sort themselves out and we’ll all move forward together, braver and stronger.”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful,” Louisa sighed in wistful agreement.
She wanted to believe that the troubles in the Church would sort themselves out. To her the differences of opinion didn’t warrant the turmoil they were causing. But she knew too well the way of the world, and in her experience the way that seemed right was not always the way that succeeded.
The three fell silent for a moment, thinking about the things they had to be thankful for and the things they still wished for. There seemed to be so many of each that it was hard to keep track. They sat on the couch together, staring out over the ocean, so close that they didn’t need words between them to know how they all felt.
Their peaceful reverie was broken by the commotion of what sounded like a small army trundling up the side of the house toward the steps.
“I think I hear Rebecca’s voice in the din.” Wren laughed, leaning forward just in time to see the bulk of her family bustle around the corner.
The McBrides had come out in full force to visit Gayle. The littlest of the bunch, Hannah and Rebecca and Judah, carrying bundles of wildflowers.
“Good afternoon Gayle,” Mrs. McBride strode across the porch with her arms outstretched to give Gayle a hug. “I hope you’re feeling up for some visitors. We were out for a walk and the little ones insisted we bring you flowers.”
Andrew and Rowan were among the throng of well-wishers, and Louisa got up to move to Andrew’s side, letting Mrs. McBride sit in her place.
“Some of us insisted on bringing flowers for other people too,” Andrew whispered in her ear, pressing something into her hand.
Louisa glanced down to see the bright daisy he had slipped to her. Her heart flipped in her chest. She shot a quick look around to see if anyone had noticed the tender gesture, but for the most part everyone was busy crowding around Gayle.
“Thank you, Andrew,” she whispered back. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” He smiled at her, brushing the back of her hand with the tips of his fingers.
“So that’s what happened to the lovely raspberry tarts Wren made,” Mrs. McBride’s cheery exclamation covered the deliciously warm and fuzzy feeling that Louisa was certain painted her entire face. “We were looking forward to eating those.”
“Help yourself,” Gayle said and tried to get up to fetch the plate to serve to everyone.
Mrs. McBride and Wren and half of the rest of them hurried to shush and shoo her back to a sitting position as she laughed over the overly-protective attention.
“I was only teasing.” Mrs. McBride laughed. “Those tarts are for you darling.”
“I could never eat them all myself.” Gayle laughed.
It was the happiest that Louisa had seen her since the accident. Even with Rowan there, hovering ever closer to the side of the couch where she sat, she seemed cheerful, almost back to her old self. It was an immense relief.
“I insist that everyone have some,” she went on. “And have some tea as well. I’m getting tired of being plied with good things all by myself. I want to share.”
“Well, I suppose we can’t refuse an offer like that,” Mrs. McBride replied, rising to her feet to fetch the goodies.
The bustle that followed was almost too big to be contained on the porch. Mrs. McBride tried to make her way to the table to fetch the tray of tarts, but the little McBrides were so eager to help that they scurried around, getting in the way. They each wanted to be the first to share and to help Gayle.
Andrew took a step back from the confusion, drawing Louisa with him. He took another step, sliding his hand along her arm to take her elbow, until she blinked and looked up at him. With a smile, he nodded in the direction of the stairs leading to the path down the hill to the beach.
Louisa’s breath caught in her throat at the thought of escaping to be alone with Andrew. She glanced quickly to Wren. Wren had seen the whole interchange, and even as she tried to pretend to her family that she hadn’t noticed a thing, she nodded to her friend and her brother, her eyes alight with joy.
Louisa and Andrew snuck off the porch before anyone could notice their departure. Louisa watched the path and the daisy in her hand as they made their escape, her heart beating hard in her chest. When they were halfway down the hill, around the corner and out of sight of the house, Andrew took her hand.
The winding path to the beach cut across the road before climbing over a stretch of large, flat rocks. The rocks were smooth but uneven.
Andrew helped Louisa navigate over them—even though she had spent most of her life climbing jetties like an expert—and down to the narrow stretch of sandy, pebbly beach. The steady rippling of the waves over the pebbles laughed around them.
“We could probably walk all the way to the lighthouse from here,” Andrew suggested, taking her hand again as they began to stroll toward the distant sentinel of the lighthouse that would be their church.
“Everyone will notice that we’re gone.” She pushed her glasses farther up her nose. She wished that she had brought a hat with her, then laughed at herself for thinking of something so mundane when the world was dazzling around her.
“Something tells me we won’t be in trouble for leaving.” Andrew laughed.
“If you say so.”
She smiled. Her hand felt so perfect in his, so right. Even though his palm and fingers were rough from working out on the sea, she didn’t mind. That coarseness was something to be proud of. Andrew was a man of vision, a man of dreams. He was a man. She would hold that working-man’s hand as long and as hard as he needed her to.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning.” He grinned sideways at her as they walked.
“I don’t have anything to say.”
His smile widened and he studied her face as if searching for a problem. “What, no worries? No concerns?”
She rolled her eyes at his needling, but smiled all the same. “I’ve noticed recently that worrying never does a lick of good.”
“Oh?”
“No.” She took in a deep breath of sea air. The sun above, the pebbles beneath her feet, the sound of the waves and the wind and the seagulls, were all too beautiful to worry.
