Sailing out of Darkness (Carolina Coast Book 4)

by Normandie Fischer

  She pushed aside the sail and tried to stand, but her legs wobbled. She could only scramble weakly to her knees, hanging on to the sides.

  A beam of light scanned the water. She tried to yell, but the words sounded more like a whimper. The light moved slowly across the waves, just out of reach. She used her arms to hoist herself onto the side deck.

  “Here…I’m here!” This time her voice cracked. “He-re!”

  They had to hear. They had to. The beam hit the tree’s roots, and she yelled again, her crying-and-cold-weakened voice warbling the sound. Then the beam slid away in the other direction. How could she get their attention? She searched frantically around her feet as if that might magically produce a flare or a horn. Something. Anything.

  “No! This way!” But her cry wafted on the wind. A sob bubbled in her throat, forcing its way out on a barely heard scream. “No!”

  The light flitted on down the bank.

  It couldn’t be leaving. Please, no.

  If Teo were there, he’d hear her. He’d know. “Teo! I’m here.”

  The light and the engine noise both dimmed.

  “No, please! Here!”

  They couldn’t go. They had to see. But the light continued to recede.

  She dropped to her knees on the puddled mess of sail. Maybe this was what she deserved. Maybe this was where it would end.

  She knew it had seemed too simple. A quick prayer, an ooey-gooey feeling, and then absolution? That’s not how life worked, was it?

  Foxhole prayers. She’d been tossing up a dying woman’s prayer.

  A gust of wind slammed Alice and rocked Sam off her knees. The wind wasn’t lessening. The rescuers hadn’t found her. Now they’d give up and go home. And she’d be here. Alone.

  She didn’t want to be alone and freezing. Hungry, hurting, angry that she’d gotten herself into this predicament.

  Then, flowing into her anger, she felt it again, and the whispering murmured in the air. Her bones felt it: even if no one found her, she wasn’t alone.

  Was this the end, then? Was it her time?

  She examined the thought as it flitted around her. She was so tired. So cold. And she’d hurt for so long. Carried the guilt and the fear for way too long.

  Maybe that’s how India’d felt. Tired of all her pain. Of a lifetime of pain she couldn’t change.

  Alice bounced wildly again, but Sam felt steadied. And suddenly she knew. She heard Teo’s words: accept forgiveness and forgive. That was the thing she had left to do. Forgive Jack. Forgive India, and Greg, and her father. Her past. Her present. And forgive the one person she couldn’t seem to, herself.

  Easier said than done.

  Ah. The whisper covered her. It spoke, and she felt the love. She actually felt it. Could it truly be that easy?

  Could it? She let that thought and the wonder of it slide around inside her as she waited. “God, is that you?”

  Jesus?

  Then, above the soft sighing voice in her mind, above the wind and waves, she heard, again, an engine.

  She raised her head, pushed herself up and held on to the boom to keep from falling. As she strangled out a “Here I am! Here,” the light approached, inching along the bank toward her. It glanced off the beach, caught the branches, then Alice’s stern, until finally it blinded Sam. She blinked and turned away. Oh, thank you! Thank you!

  She heard voices, the boat’s engine revving. Then a splash, and Teo yelled, “I’m coming!”

  For a man who limped along with a cane, he certainly moved through that water. The river was too shallow for the big boat to come all the way in, so poor Teo got soaked as he slogged toward shore. Then he lifted her over the side of Alice and hugged her to him.

  “You came,” she whispered.

  “I heard you call,” he said, tightening his grip. “I drove like a madman to get back.” Another shiver passed through her, and he bent lower. “Oh, baby, you’re freezing. Come on, let’s get you dry.”

  Sam’s head dropped against his shoulder as he carried her across to the other boat. A man yelled that he had the anchor and would set up a tow line. And then Teo handed her up to waiting arms.

  Soon, someone draped a blanket over her and someone else tried to hand her a cup of steaming broth, which she couldn’t hold. Teo took it below, before he helped her maneuver down the steps and over to a bunk. Gently, he stripped her of her sodden clothes. He dried her off, pulled a huge sweatshirt over her head, and stepped her into a pair of pants way too big, but they and the wool socks he slipped on her feet were dry. After wrapping her hair in another towel, he held her hands between his and blew warm breath over them.

  Then he turned his back and unzipped his own dripping slacks, letting them fall to the floor. His wet shirt and jacket suffered the same fate. Sam watched as he picked up the towel he’d used on her and wiped himself dry, lifting one leg and then another. When he stuck his feet in oilskins, she wondered what it would be like when he first turned so she could see him full on. The thought made her grin. What it would be like when she had the right to touch those rippling back muscles, skin to skin. She felt warmth zipping through her veins for the first time in hours, and a heat that had nothing to do with dry clothes built in her belly.

  He donned a dry sweatshirt and turned to catch her staring. She blushed.

  Grinning, he sat down next to her and touched her cheek with his fingertips. She felt a smile curve her lips, though she knew it was still small and a tad crooked. “Oh, Teo. I was so scared.”

  His arm circled and drew her toward him until she nestled close. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. But you’re safe now.” The oilskins crinkled when he moved to kiss her, and more warmth suffused her insides as those lips worked their magic.

  She forgot to ask him how he’d heard her from the car. How he’d found her. How they’d known which side of the bank to search. Instead, she slept.

  Sam didn’t know who steered Alice as the powerboat towed her poor, bedraggled boat, or who helped tie the sails once they got back to the dock. She remembered thanking her rescuers profusely as Teo helped her up to the house, where Tootie waited with a hot shower and clothes that fit.

  “I’m cooking up some dinner for everyone,” Tootie said, propelling her toward the bathroom, “so come on down when you’re ready.” And to Teo, “I’ll toss your things in the dryer while you use the other bath.”

  Sam stayed under the spray until the water cooled. Finally warm again, she descended the steps to the living room. Tootie rattled about in the kitchen, doing something with pots that sounded very loud and smelled very good. Teo stood with his back to her, watching what was left of the storm, her storm, wear itself out over the river. He turned and smiled, then held out his hand. Sam pressed herself into his hug as he set his cane aside.

  How glorious he felt as her arms circled his neck. The big sweatshirt he still wore smelled slightly of diesel, but there was no mistaking the underlying scent of the man.

  Her man. Her very own. Incredible.

  “I love you, Mr. Anderson.”

  His grin flashed as he looked down at her. “You finally sure about that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Laughter bubbled out of Sam as he pulled her into his arms and whispered, “About time.” Over his shoulder, she saw Tootie and Holland grinning from behind the center island. “Are you guys hungry yet?” Tootie asked.

  That’s when Sam noticed the table set for four, the platter of spaghetti waiting on the counter, the bowl of salad next to it. She heard a log shift on the hearth and breathed a deep and satisfying sigh. She’d finally found home again. As she took Teo’s hand, she knew it didn’t matter where that was—here or nearer Raleigh and her children or even part time in an apartment in Reggio. As long as she had a place for Alice. And Teo beside her.

  Epilogue

  Teo

  Notes tinkled on piano keys, a lens’s vision on the screen

  Of floating ice, rocks rimmed with snow,
>
  Deserted sky, and screeching gulls,

  An octave up, then scaling down,

  And we are in the scene and of it,

  Moving across space.

  A stone plopped into water forms ripples, creating concentric circles that move out from the center and subside gradually if nothing impedes their progress. Whether or not they ever come to a full stop, Teo wasn’t scientist enough to know. It looked to him as if the molecules touched by movement become propelled in an infinitely wider arc, slower perhaps as they achieve distance, but still there, still moving, still affecting other molecules and pushing them to confront whatever lies in their path.

  Last night, they’d spoken of the stones that had started their circles and brought them to this place. He’d told Samantha of his visions. The evening had ended... Well, he didn’t need to go into details of those hours at the end.

  The memory of her touch, of her skin against his, of the way his physical imperfections lost significance every time she loved him, made him bite his lip to keep from insisting they return home right then. Forget about meeting their friends.

  The barman approached for his order.

  “Due cappuccini, per favore,” Teo told him.

  “Subito, signore.”

  Teo paid and tap-tapped back to the table. Samantha looked up with that full-lipped smile of hers as he pulled out his chair and leaned the cane against another.

  “What time did Martine say they’d be here?” he asked.

  “Soon. Yesterday’s sail did Tonio so much good.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She accepted a cup the barman set before her and began adding sugar, stirring slowly. “You don’t find it so bad now, do you?”

  “What, sailing?”

  A nod. “You seem to have more fun each time we go out.”

  “Well, it’s growing on me. I’m not sure I’d ever have been comfortable on Alice, not with this leg.”

  “I know. She’s a better boat for young people.”

  He sipped his own coffee. “You couldn’t have given Tootie and Holland a better wedding gift, you know.”

  For a moment, he thought a shadow passed over Samantha’s features, but then it vanished, replaced by a softened expression. “They’ll have fun. And Alice belongs with the house. It will be a great place to raise children.”

  “And no unpleasant memories.”

  “No.”

  “Are you happy here? I promised you we’d live wherever you wish.”

  She reached toward him, her slim fingers touching his. He turned his hand and clasped the smooth skin. “I love Reggio,” she said.

  He pulled a folded paper from his pocket using his free hand. “Then perhaps you’ll appreciate this little something I bought for you.”

  Her brows tented as she accepted the paper, then settled as she opened it. “A present?”

  “Would you like me to translate?”

  She looked up. Her widened eyes said she’d absorbed the gist of it. “Is it what I think?”

  “Belle Journée is yours, my dear.”

  “Why...but...I don’t understand. Tonio and Martine. They love her.”

  “Yes. And they will continue to sail with you or with us.”

  “Oh, my.” She stared down at the official title change and then clasped it against her chest. Her eyes glistened dangerously.

  He spoke as calmly as possible to stave off an emotional deluge. “They offered to give the boat to us, but I said I’d rather buy it for you. It seemed more fitting. And though they are not poor, they will need more and more care for Tonio in the years to come. This is better.”

  “Oh, Teo. Oh, Teo, thank you.” She leaned closer, touched his cheek with her palm. “You beloved man.”

  “Well,” he said, straightening his back. “I’m glad you like it. I hope it makes up for relinquishing your little Alice.”

  “More than.” The glitter in her eyes made them sparkle. “We can cruise, Teo. We can go to all sorts of places. Maybe even Greece.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Greece? The Aegean?”

  She laughed. “I forgot. But if we sail there, we’ll be careful. We’ll watch the weather. Really. No more storms for either of us.”

  “And you can predict that accurately, Madam Weather-guru?”

  “There are electronic toys on Belle. And there’s always the Internet.”

  “Fine,” he said, sighing. “Let’s start with local cruises. Okay? There’s plenty to see right around here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, before our friends arrive, I thought I’d mention an upcoming research trip.” He tucked the deed away and drew out the suspense. How he loved to see those eyes, bright and interested instead of deeply shadowed. “Sophrina and I need to visit Tokyo. Would you like to go?”

  “Tokyo? You mean, as in sushi and kimonos?”

  “I thought we’d fly in the other direction on the way home. Pause in Hawaii and then to California to see David and his new girlfriend.”

  Thinking of David reminded him of the wedding and David’s apology. He’d known his son would love Samantha once he had a chance to know her. It hadn’t hurt that Stefi and Daniel had taken David under their wings. Siblings, even late in the game, made life just a little fuller for a boy who’d been so torn by divorce. Teo remembered the squeak in David’s voice when he first learned that the gorgeous Stefi was now his sister. And that he’d become an uncle to boot.

  “I’d love to see him again,” Samantha said. “He’s a great kid.”

  Smiling, Teo agreed. “And after California, we could drop in on our grandson.”

  “Oh, Teo. See Christopher? Daniel said he’s sitting up already.”

  “We wouldn’t want to miss that. Precocious little fellow, isn’t he? And I’ve been in touch with Robert. He said he and Lizzie want to meet us in New York.”

  “Of course. A meeting with Val.” Her eyes had lost none of their luster. She was undoubtedly counting all the museums she could visit—and drag him through. “Ah, Mr. Anderson. I do like your life.”

  “Well, Mrs. Anderson, it seems to be your life, too.”

  Acknowledgments

  So many people helped bring this story from its ragtag beginnings to its present form. Sailing out of Darkness would have foundered without the hours of reading time my beloved husband and best friend, Michael, provided. He prodded me with prayer and encouragement and was the first to say, “Off with its head,” to bits that bogged the story down or took it in the wrong direction. I am so blessed that he has my back.

  Many thanks to the encouragement of my long-time critique partner, Jane Lebak; to my writing and editing friends, Robin Patchen, Jane Shealy, and Linda Glaz; I’m also immensely grateful to writing friends Lynne Hinkey, Ane Mulligan, and Denise Falvo for their help in yanking a sagging beginning out of the mire. Leonardo Carelli of Montecassiano (MC), Italy, read the manuscript to correct my failures of memory. It hasbeen a long time since I actually lived and studied in Italy, and Leonardo is so very gracious. Grazie, signore!

  Many, many thanks to my former agent, Terry Burns, for his friendship and faith and for the encouraging circle he provided his clients. Thank you to Roseanna White and everyone at WhiteFire Publishing, including Dina Sleiman, for believing in the story and pushing me to make the first edition of this book the best it could be.

  My darling children, Ariana Milton Scoville and Joshua Milton, have always been my cheerleaders. No mother could be more proud of the adults they’ve become. And I adore my grandchildren, the next generation.

  This second edition of Sailing out of Darkness sports a new cover and new eagle eyes in the reading and proofing, including those of DJ Sakata.

  Afterword

  I’m like most authors: we take bits we’ve overheard, bits we’ve experienced, bits we’ve read about or heard about or pondered, and we fashion them into a what-if that becomes the genesis for a story. Each character in Sailing out of Darkness is a figment of my imagination. None
of the events in this story actually happened to anyone I know or have known. But the lovely thing about crafting stories is that I can allow my imagination to people places in ways that seem interesting or fitting to me.

  I hope you carry away something from the story, even if it’s only an awareness that there are hurting people all around who just may need someone—you—to listen and care. And I’m not only speaking of the Indias in our world, but also of the Samanthas, who can become so mired in guilt that they have trouble climbing out of the muck. I’ve met an India or two, women who couldn’t climb out, and their pain haunts me.

  In crafting the second edition, I moved my characters from the Eastern Shore of Maryland down here to North Carolina so I could tuck them among the friends of the Carolina Coast novels. I’ve branched out a little, though, moving Sam to South River, about thirty minutes from Beaufort. It seemed a good place for her to get into trouble.

  I hope you enjoyed the story, and that you’ll pick up another one of my books to see what else is happening.

  Also by Normandie Fischer

  Becalmed Carolina Coast Novel, Book 1

  “It's a rare book that draws you in from the first page, wraps its cover around you, and warmly envelops you in its unfolding tale. This book did that for me…” ~Lita Smith-Mines, Boating Times of Long Island

  Heavy Weather Carolina Coast Book 2

  “…the book's strengths lie in its suspense and vivid characters, whose personalities and small-town relationships are truly believable. A heavy, suspenseful North Carolina novel about parenthood, human connection, and how to make peace with the cards you're dealt.” ~Kirkus Reviews

  (Also available in audiobook.)

  Sailing out of Darkness, 1st edition

  “…beautiful, gorgeous imagery... It is take your breath away awesomeness. The storyline could absolutely suck and I wouldn't care half as much because I just wanted to read more descriptions of people, places, feelings and thoughts. This is true writing talent here. And she's a wonderful storyteller too.” ~Samantha Coville, Sammy the Bookworm