by Debby Giusti
The sound of the surf, crashing on the shore, exploded around her.
The beach?
Tyler wouldn’t have strayed that far. The shoreline was strictly off-limits.
Lydia ran to the edge of the lawn and searched the beach that lay beyond.
“Tyler,” she called again.
And then she saw him. A small speck of blond hair and red shirt.
Her heart stopped beating.
He was in the water, caught in the current, heading toward the open sea.
Lydia slipped down the path to the beach, righted herself, then raced along the sand. Faster. She had to get to her son.
“I’m coming,” she screamed.
Angry waves pounded against the shore. Dark green water swirled like a vengeful monster. White foam sprayed in the air and danced on the wind.
She ran into the churning sea. Water soaked her dress, weighed her down as if a thousand hands were yanking her back to shore.
The tiny red spot bobbed in the distance. She struggled to move forward.
A wave crashed over her. She gasped, swallowed water. Her nose and throat burned. Salt stung her eyes. She wiped her hand over her face.
Where was Tyler? Squinting toward the horizon, she searched for some sign of him.
The smudge of red reappeared in the distance. Tiny arms flailed in the air. Her heart wrenched in two. She had to save her son.
Stubbing her foot on a submerged rock, she almost fell, caught herself and continued on.
A little farther and she’d be in over her head. Nothing mattered except reaching Tyler.
Another wave washed over her. Her eyes burned, the back of her nose on fire as she snorted the caustic brine.
She opened her mouth to take in a breath and dropped into a deep abyss as the sandbar disappeared beneath her feet. She came up coughing and gasping for air.
The red speck disappeared in the distance. She gulped another mouthful and went under. Clawing the water, she tried to reach the surface.
Something brushed against her leg.
Shark?
She kicked, furiously trying to escape the predator.
Suddenly, she was being propelled upward.
She struggled against the force.
“No!” she screamed as her head broke the surface.
Wiping the water from her eyes, she jerked around. Matt had hold of her, his face close to hers, his arm supporting her.
“Tyler,” she managed to gasp.
“I see him. Float, Lydia,” Matt ordered. “The rip current’s passed. The waves will take you in.”
He shoved her toward shore. “Ten feet and you’ll be able to touch bottom. You’ve got to make it. For Tyler’s sake.”
For Tyler, Lydia thought.
Oh, God, save my son.
Trust me. The words returned in a flash.
She relaxed her muscles and allowed the waves to carry her.
Then she thought of Tyler so far from shore. Would Matt get to him in time?
Her body tensed. She started to go under.
Matt didn’t want to turn Lydia loose. He had taught her how to stay afloat and do a simple crawl, but she still feared putting her head in the water. Relying on her own version of the dog paddle, she’d make it to the sandbar, where she could touch ground. If she didn’t panic.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her struggle toward shore. A few feet more and she’d be out of danger.
Tyler was another story. As the waves dipped, Matt saw the spot of red in the middle of the dark, choppy sea.
“Hold on, Tyler,” he said. “Hold on, son.”
If the boy would do a dead man’s float and not struggle against the current, he might be able to conserve his energy and survive until Matt reached him.
Let him remember what I taught him, Lord. And thank You for getting me here just in time.
Matt prided himself on being punctual. Arriving ahead of schedule wasn’t his style. Yet an urgency to get to Lydia’s had picked at him like a fly hovering over a picnic lunch until he climbed into his pickup and headed up Cove Road. Fifteen minutes early.
Now he knew why.
When no one had answered the door, he had circled the house to the deck, hoping to find Lydia and Tyler. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize something was wrong.
Seeing Lydia flailing in the water and Tyler far out at sea, Matt raced to the water’s edge, kicked out of his shoes and ripped off his shirt.
He had to save Tyler. If something happened to the boy, Matt wouldn’t be able to live with himself. The pain would be too great.
God, help me.
A strong stroke propelled Matt forward. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm. He kept his head up and his eyes on the boy.
The distance narrowed. Tyler’s head bobbed in the water.
Closer, closer.
A large wave loomed ahead.
“Hold on, Tyler,” Matt screamed as the water crashed over the child.
Frantically, Matt swam to the spot where the red shirt had been.
He dived below the surface.
Where was the boy?
Matt had to find him.
Seconds passed too quickly.
He swam deeper, searching, his eyes burning from the salt, his lungs ready to tear in two.
There. Tyler!
Matt grabbed the child’s shirt. He wrapped an arm around the small torso and pulled the limp body into his arms.
With powerful kicks, Matt broke the surface and turned the boy over.
“Tyler. Wake up, Tyler. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
Matt held the boy in his arms as he treaded water, willing life back into the small body.
“Tyler, open your eyes.”
Dear God, don’t let this child die.
The boy gasped for air. His eyes fluttered open. Fear flashed across his face. He coughed and pulled in a ragged breath.
“You’re okay, son,” Matt said. “I’ve got you now.”
“I…I did what you said, Chief. I floated like a jellyfish.”
Matt wanted to laugh with relief, but they were far from shore and still in danger. He had to get Tyler back to Lydia.
“I’m going to wrap my arm around you, Tyler. Lie back against me. I’ll paddle us to shore.”
The boy did as Matt asked. Slipping his arm over Tyler’s chest, Matt tucked him against his left hip. There the boy could ride out the waves while Matt stroked the water with his free hand. Just so they wouldn’t be caught in another rip current.
“Good job, Tyler. Relax. Let me do the work.”
He could feel the rapid beat of the boy’s heart.
“That’s it, son. You’re doing fine.”
When they made it to the sandbar, Matt dropped his feet and looked at shore. Where was Lydia?
He wanted to shout her name and crash through the waves, searching for her. He had saved her son, but—
Then he saw her, running through the water toward them.
“Tyler!” she screamed. “Are you all right?”
Matt pulled the boy out of the water. “Tell your mom you’re fine.”
“Mom,” the boy cried out. “Matt saved me.”
Tears streamed down Lydia’s face. She ran to them, pulled Tyler into her arms and clutched him to her heart.
“Let’s get to dry land.” Matt urged them through the shallow water. On shore, he grabbed his shirt and shoes and tried to take Tyler from Lydia. She wouldn’t turn him loose.
With tears of gratitude running down her cheeks, she carried Tyler to the deck, then sat on a chair and wrapped him ever more tightly in her arms.
“Mom!” the boy finally complained.
“Oh, Tyler, I thought I’d lost you. The water…”
She looked up at Matt. He shook his head to warn her. Tyler had been through enough. She didn’t need to add her own fears to the boy’s.
An understanding passed between them. She nodded almost imperceptibly. “Honey, you know t
he ocean’s off-limits in this area.”
Tyler ducked his head.
She placed her finger on his chin. “Look at me. Why did you break the rules and go into the water?”
“I was playing on the beach,” the boy mumbled.
“And?”
“My Frisbee, Mom.” His eyes clouded, and it looked as if he might burst into tears. “It went in the water.”
“And you ran after it?”
He hung his head and nodded.
Lydia hugged him close. Ironic. She’d brought Tyler to the remote island to get away from the Atlanta threat and keep him safe.
Maybe coming here had been a mistake.
She looked up at the man who had saved her son.
Then again, she had found something worthwhile in Sanctuary.
SEVENTEEN
Lydia couldn’t take her eyes off Tyler as Matt carried the boy inside the house. She gave him a hot bath and dressed him in warm pajamas before she slipped into something dry. When she came back into the kitchen, Matt had changed into the spare clothes he kept in his truck.
While Tyler played with Legos on the living room floor, Lydia finished the meal preparation, peering in at him every few minutes. As much as she didn’t feel like eating, keeping a sense of normalcy would be good for all of them.
Matt grilled a steak. She tossed the salad and removed the potatoes from the oven. When they sat at the kitchen table, she looked at her son and was filled with gratitude.
“Trust me,” a voice had whispered to Lydia when Tyler was being carried out to sea. Could the Lord have spoken to her heart? Had He sent Matt at the exact moment to save her son? Or was it coincidence that Matt had arrived in the nick of time?
She wasn’t ready to give God full credit. She needed more proof before her seed of faith grew larger. Still, she owed Him a word of thanks. But finding her voice with the Almighty was beyond her grasp at the moment.
“Matt, would you give thanks before we eat?”
The three of them joined hands and bowed their heads.
“Dear Lord, thank You for the food we are about to eat and for allowing us to be together this evening. We know You are a God who loves us and cares for our every need. Continue to watch over us, Lord, and protect us from harm. Amen.”
Matt ate with relish, but Tyler toyed with his food, his eyes heavy. When he could no longer hold his head upright, Lydia scooped him into her arms, her own food ignored.
“Bedtime,” she said to Matt.
Carrying her sleepy child into his room, she pulled down the spread and laid the boy on the bed.
He snuggled under the covers. “Sorry my Frisbee went in the water, Mom.”
She tousled his hair. “The Frisbee’s not important. But you are, Tyler. I love you so very much.”
“I know, Mom.”
“When I tell you something, there’s a reason. Usually, it’s to keep you safe.”
He swallowed hard.
“If you don’t understand, ask me. We can talk about it. Okay?”
“I will. I promise.”
She rubbed her hand down his cheek. “And always tell Mama the truth.”
His eyes grew wide. “Always, Mom. Cross my heart. But Bobby said he makes up stories sometimes.”
“Oh?”
“When his mom and dad fight.”
“All parents have disagreements, honey.”
“I know, Mom. I told him he has to tell the truth, no matter what.” Tyler bit his lip. “Chief says I’m a good swimmer. I would have been okay today, ’cept the waves pulled me out too far.”
Lydia leaned over her son and kissed his cheek. “You’re safe now, Tyler. Go to sleep, honey.”
She watched his eyes shut and his breathing slip into a steady rhythm. She’d almost lost him for the second time. A loving God wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.
Would He?
Matt stood when Lydia entered the living room, and his heart caught in his throat. He’d never seen her look more beautiful. Before dinner, she had pulled her hair back from her face in a ponytail and donned the polka-dot shorts and blouse she’d worn that first afternoon on the beach. But it was the sense of relief and gratitude that he saw written so clearly on her face, that tugged at his heart.
Her eyes met his, and she stopped walking. “I…I don’t know how to thank you.”
He shrugged. “Seems I got my timing right.”
“I can’t imagine what might have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
She shivered, and Matt wanted to take her in his arms and hold her tight. She’d been through a lot, and he sensed the tension that still pounded through her body.
“I tried to save him,” she said, her voice not much more than a whisper. “If only I hadn’t waited so long to start the swimming lessons. I’ve been so stubborn.” She sighed. “So stupid.”
He crossed the room and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked into his eyes.
“Lydia, you did everything you could. The current was strong. Even if you’d been a better swimmer, it’s doubtful you could have pulled him from the rip current. You and Tyler might both have been lost.”
Her eyes searched his. “You saved us, Matt.”
He shook his head. “God did it, Lydia. He nagged me to get here early. When I saw you flailing in the water, it all became clear.”
Her puzzled look made him continue.
“About a year ago, there was talk that the guy who killed my partner was operating in this area. I told myself the security job would give me the chance to find him. In reality, I was hiding out.”
She wrinkled her brow. “From what?”
“From my own guilt. I was with a woman the night Pete needed me. I didn’t answer my cell, and he went into the raid before backup arrived. It cost him his life.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, Matt.”
“I put myself first, something partners never do.”
She shook her head. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“That’s what Pete’s wife told me.” Matt sighed, remembering Connie’s disregard of her own grief to help him work through his.
“I asked God’s forgiveness,” he continued. “Thinking if I caught the killer, I’d find redemption.”
He gazed down into Lydia’s eyes. “God’s forgiveness washed over me today in the water. By saving Tyler, God allowed me to save myself.”
Lydia looked at him as if she could see into his heart. He hoped she could see the love of the Lord that had taken hold there. He wanted to share that feeling with Lydia. If only she could trust God.
“Maybe God’s love will wash over me someday,” she whispered.
Her sincerity touched him, and he realized he was falling for Lydia. Hard.
He pulled her into his embrace and lowered his lips to hers.
Lydia woke the next morning thinking of Matt. She smiled, remembering his kiss and the sense of completeness she felt wrapped in his arms.
Tyler was still asleep so Lydia perked coffee and took a cup out onto the deck where she watched the birds skitter through the trees.
She didn’t know when she’d felt so rested and refreshed, or when a morning seemed as sparkling clear. Even the ocean that had been a threatening monster yesterday was calm today.
The realization of the fragility of life and the importance of living each moment in the present swept over her. For so long, she had focused on the past. Now she was ready to live for today.
Matt was a good man, so different from Sonny. She could trust Matt. But he deserved to know what a relationship with her entailed.
Tyler had a late-afternoon playdate with Chase. When Luke Davenport and his wife picked Tyler up, Lydia buckled his seat belt and waved goodbye.
“Have fun,” she called as the car pulled out of the drive.
Grabbing her purse and keys, Lydia climbed into her SUV and drove to Matt’s office. His pickup was the only vehicle in the parking lot.
She knocked before she entered, t
hen stepped into the cool interior. Would he be surprised to see her? Or was she reading too much into one kiss?
A pleased look washed over Matt’s face when he glanced up from his desk and saw her standing in the doorway. He was dressed in running shorts and a damp T-shirt.
“I should have called,” she said.
“You would have gotten Eunice. I was on a run.”
He rose, rounded his desk and was at her side in five long strides. Without saying more, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close.
Lydia’s muscles weakened and her pulse quickened. All she could think of was being in Matt’s arms, as if nothing in the world was as important at this moment.
Matt stared down into her eyes. His right hand played with her hair.
She smiled, seeing the warmth written on his face. “I owe you so much, Matt. Saving Tyler—”
Matt looked behind her. “Where is he?”
“With the Davenports. They picked him up about fifteen minutes ago. Four o’clock matinee and an early dinner. Part of me didn’t want to let him go. I wanted to hold on to him even tighter than I had before.”
“I don’t blame you after all that’s happened.”
A glow of appreciation filled her. He hadn’t told her she was overreacting or too protective, which is what Sonny would have said. Matt could sense her moods and the deep maternal feelings that guided so much of what she did with Tyler.
“I knew it was time to make some changes,” she said. “Just like you, I’ve been hiding out in Sanctuary. That’s why Tyler and I came here in the first place. I want to tell you some things I couldn’t tell you before, Matt.” She looked into his questioning eyes and found the strength and determination she needed to go on.
Lydia told Matt her marriage had ended long before she’d walked into her husband’s office and saw the pornography on his computer. She told Matt about her ultimatum for Sonny to leave the illegal operation, and her husband’s need to gather evidence, in case the powers that be tried to nail him for their own wrongdoings.
“A week before his death, Sonny had me up the insurance on our house. He must have known something might happen. But he died before he had everything in place.”
“Killed in a fire that destroyed your life, as well as his,” Matt added.
