She watched the big gray bird hover over them, and slowly lower its basket level with the door. Its sole occupant, a uniformed Coast Guardsman, grinned at her from his swinging perch.
“I’ll need you to give me a hand, lady,” he said, as his basket lurched this way and that.
Kristen reached out and grabbed the edge of the basket as it swung by, its weight nearly pulling her out of the door. The young man jumped through the doorway, knocking Kristen backwards onto the floor. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Kristen could have hugged him. “You’re a welcome visitor!”
“Well, the two of you get into the basket, one at a time. I’ll hold it steady. Then my friend up there will pull us up.” He looked over at Mr. Beardsley. “Come on friend, it’s time to go.”
“Oh, Mr. Beardsley can’t do that. I’m afraid he’s rather badly injured,” Kristen explained. “I’m pretty sure his leg is broken, and he has a head injury, too. What can we do?”
“We’ll need to bring the medical rescue helicopter in here for him, and get him out on a stretcher. But you can come with us, now. We’ll take you to safety and send help for him right away.”
“No, I can’t leave him here by himself. You go on ahead and send help, and when the rescue team arrives, we’ll both go together. Alone, he’s completely helpless.”
“Well, ma’am, I don’t even think they will let you go in the rescue unit with him. The stretcher takes up most of the space, and what’s left is for the medical technicians. You’d better come on now while you have the chance.”
But Kristen was determined. They had made it this far together and she would not desert him now. “Then you can send someone for me after the rescue team picks him up. I’m not leaving here until I see him taken care of.”
Mr. Beardsley had been listening in silence, but now he spoke up. “You’re being foolish again, gir—Kristen. I told you before to go while you could, and you didn’t listen to me, and see what a mess you got yourself into? Now, go!”
But of course, she didn’t. She couldn’t. This poor old man had been languishing in pain for nearly twenty-four hours, with scarcely a complaint. She couldn’t go away and leave him here alone.
“All right, lady. You’re the boss. But I don’t know how long this will take.” He was reluctant to leave her there. “The medical units have been answering calls all night long, but we’ll do the best we can to get back to you as soon as possible.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two candy bars and gave them to her. It was all he had with him. “Please, reconsider and come with me.”
“No, but thanks for everything. We’ll be fine here until help comes, now that we know you’ve found us.”
He grabbed the basket and vaulted in without assistance, and in minutes, the basket was raised and the chopper went sailing through the sky.
“You did a foolish thing,” Mr Beardsley told her.
She didn’t answer him, but set about washing his face and giving him his aspirin, with a glass of the cool, precious water. “That bump on your head needs attention,” she said. “Your leg, too. I hope they hurry back.”
Weak from shock and hunger, she sat on the floor beside him. “About Dorothy, you asked me to call her. Where does she live?”
“That was just if I died.”
“But we didn’t die, did we? And now that we have a new chance at life, let’s make the most of it. Agreed?”
“She still lives in Louisiana. Writes to me about once a month, but I never read them. Send them back unopened.”
Kristen tried to find words that would show the stubborn, inflexible old man how unreasonable he was being, and how he was actually the victim of his own vicious attitudes. She thought of the hurting young woman who was his daughter, and realized how much she must long for his love.
Without preamble, she spoke the words that came into her mind: “ ‘Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race. . .’ That’s from the Bible, you know. It’s in Philippians.” She watched him for reaction, and saw none.
Then suddenly he surprised her. “You’re right, for once. I came to see that while I was watching you do all those things for me.”
“What things?”
“Why, you saved my life. You know that. And I know I’ve been cantankerous with you. So if you can lay all that aside and help me the way you did, I guess I ought to be able to lay aside a few things myself.”
Even in her weakened state, a spontaneous smile spread across her face. “I’m so glad, Mr. Beardsley. Imagine how happy Dorothy is going to be when you call her. I wish I could meet her someday.”
“I’m not so sure she’s going to be all that happy. After all the things I’ve said to her, she probably won’t even want to hear from me now.”
Kristen took his bony, wrinkled hand in hers. “Recently I told a friend that love remembers the beautiful things about a person and lays aside the rest. Dorothy must love you very much, and I’m sure you’ve hurt her. But it’s not too late to tell her you’re sorry and that you love her.”
Kristen thought about the strange friendship that had developed between the two of them. What an unlikely pair! They had started out as adversaries, but tragedy had brought them together and made them friends. He said she had saved his life, and she supposed that she had, but hadn’t he helped her, too? His knowledge of hurricanes had kept her from going out to a certain death during the eye of the storm, and he knew how to equalize the pressure in the house so that the windows didn’t implode. Quite possibly, he had saved her life as well.
Patiently they waited, now, sure that help was on the way. Weak and tired, they spoke few words, saving their remaining strength for the rescue operation ahead. Kristen breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving for the miracle of their survival, and for the equally miraculous change of heart in her new friend, Jake Beardsley.
It was midafternoon before the medical rescue team arrived. The water had receded enough to let the helicopter drop the workers and their equipment directly onto the second-floor deck. The efficient team of workers erected a ladder, giving them entry into the crow’s nest, and from there on, everything went smoothly.
The two technicians went to work on Jake Beardsley at once, giving him emergency treatment and stabilizing him for the trip ahead.
In his semiconscious state, he seemed scarcely aware of his surroundings, but rallied enough to express his concern for her.
“Take care of Kristen,” he instructed the medics, and she beamed.
Gently he was put on a stretcher and raised into the hovering machine.
The female technician handed Kristen a canvas bag. “There are some provisions in here. Your rescue chopper will be along very shortly. I’m sorry we can’t accommodate you on the medical unit, but you won’t have long to wait.”
“It’s all right.” Kristen smiled, as she gratefully took the bag. “Just take good care of my friend, and tell him I’ll visit him soon.”
“We’re transporting him to the hospital in Punta Gorda. My guess is that they’ll keep him a few days, so you’ll have plenty of time to visit him. Good-bye, and good luck!”
Kristen watched them soar into the sky, and felt a great burden lifted from her shoulders. She knew that Mr. Beardsley was in competent hands now, and would live to make his peace with Dorothy.
Kristen opened the bag and found the best sandwiches she had ever tasted in her entire life. And the juice was wet and sweet. As her eyes grew heavy, she stretched out on the couch, pulling the soft afghan over her damp, chilled body. For the first time since the ordeal had begun, she felt safe and secure, as she drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Wes Bradley slammed his fist down on his massive oak desk in dire frustration. All the phone lines in southwestern Florida were out, and all commercial air flights into the area had been grounded.
“Can’t you find anything into Tampa? I could rent a car and drive from there.”
“We’ve tried every airline, Mr. Bradley,” his secretary assured him. “Nothing is flying into Florida at this time.”
“Try the private charter lines, then. Surely there’s someone who can get me in there.”
His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his hands shook from the seemingly gallons of coffee he had drunk during the night.
Thank goodness for the shortwave radio operators. He had been able to learn of Janelle’s safety. The Baxters would care for her well until he could get there. But Kristen. Where was Kristen? A check of all the shelters failed to turn up her name. Her car had not been removed from the parking garage. The last time she was seen was on Gaspar Island, running back toward the house. According to reports, she had plenty of time to get back to the dock before the last boat left, so what had happened to her?
He knew well the fury of hurricanes, even in their earliest stages, and how dangerous it could be to go out in one. His mind pictured flying debris and rising water, as his thoughts tortured him through the night.
If anything happened to Kristen—he didn’t know what he would do. It had taken him a long time to realize how much he loved her, but he knew now beyond a doubt that without her, the rest of his life would be meaningless.
Of course, she would never be completely his. She had told him that she loved someone else. Probably Jack—lucky guy! But he would at least see that she was well treated. Pity the person who ever tried to harm her, if he knew anything about it! She was the loveliest woman on earth, and he had failed to see it until it was too late.
“Mr. Bradley.” His secretary interrupted his thoughts. “No one, absolutely no one is willing to fly into that weather. What’s more, they say that most of the roads into that area are closed because of downed trees and high water.”
He slumped over the desk. “Thank you, Sara.” He looked at her.
Sara was as tired as he was. She had come to love Kristen like a sister when the two of them had worked together. She had stayed at his office all night, frantically trying to help him get through to the disaster area.
Now he told her, “You go on home, Sara, and get some sleep. It’s not even daylight yet. I’m going to get my car and head out in that direction. I’ll go as far as I can, and maybe somehow I can get through.”
“But you can’t drive now. You haven’t had any sleep,” she protested.
“I’ll be okay.” He couldn’t sleep now if he tried.
Streaking down the wet, deserted interstate in his long, black Mercedes, he drove as fast as he dared, and hoped he wouldn’t get stopped by the highway patrol. He didn’t have time for that now.
Like a madman, he drove without stopping, passing little Georgia towns sprinkled along the highway. Not until he reached the Gainesville, Florida, exit did he stop.
Sitting at a lunch counter, he ordered grits and eggs. It was the first food he had taken time to eat in nearly twenty-four hours, yet it all tasted like cardboard. He ate quickly, as though it were a job to get done, paid the cashier, and was about to get in his car when he remembered that this was Kristen’s home town.
The telephone directory listed numerous Kellys. He tried six before he reached her home.
“No,” said her mother, her voice heavy with worry. “We’ve been hoping to get some word, but we’ve heard nothing. The news said that Gaspar Island was completely covered with ten feet of water, but that they had evacuated all the residents, so we feel sure that Kristen is safe in one of the shelters. The phone lines are all down, so she can’t get word to us, but I know she will call when she can.”
So they didn’t know even as much as he did. And lucky they didn’t. He wouldn’t tell them that she was missing. No need alarming them until it was necessary. But he knew that chances of finding her alive were slim. No one could have survived on the island in that hurricane! His only hope was that she had been able to come ashore and find shelter somewhere.
Tampa was as far as he could drive. Beyond that point, all roads were closed. He had seen plenty of signs of destruction already. He couldn’t even imagine how bad it must be farther south.
The day was cloudy and gusty, but the hurricane had crossed the state and blown itself out into the Atlantic. It had diminished in intensity as it traveled over the land, and was no longer a threat as it continued to break up over the waters of the Atlantic.
Wes turned his car into the Tampa International Heliport. He knew several of the fellows there.
“Hi, Kevin. I need your help.”
“Man, what happened to you? You look like something the cat dragged in!”
“Thanks!” Wes slapped him on the back. “I need transportation in a hurry.”
“I’m your man. Where are we going?”
“Over to Gaspar Island. We’ll need to cover the whole island as low as possible to see if there’s any sign of life.”
“Let’s go, then. I’ll get suited up. But from what I hear, I don’t think you’re going to like what you find.”
“First let me use your shortwave set. I need to see if there’s been any word yet.”
It was difficult to get through to the Coast Guard station because everything was jammed with emergency calls, but finally Wes heard Jeff’s weary voice over the static-filled wire.
“I wish I had some encouraging news for you, Wes. We have our choppers out there now covering all the barrier islands, searching for any possible survivors. As soon as they report back, I’ll be able to give you a more up-to-the-minute picture, but on the surface, things look very bad.”
“Any chance Kristen is somewhere on the mainland?”
The set crackled as Jeff’s voice came back over the air. “We’ve checked every shelter, and have turned up nothing. Some of the people who came over on the last boat know her, and no one remembers seeing her get on the boat.”
Wes’s heart sank as he broke the connection and followed Kevin out onto the heliport pad. The helicopter rocked back and forth in the wind as the blades roared and lifted the two of them into the air.
At the first sight of the island, his despair hit a new low. Utter devastation was everywhere. Big old trees were turned with their roots pointed toward the sky. Houses had been ripped from their pilings like toy game pieces. In the tallest surviving pine trees Wes saw articles of clothing caught in the highest branches, tattered rags waving like sinister flags signaling disaster. Piers that had held fast to their pilings through many previous storms over the years were twisted and torn, and flung about the island like Tinkertoys.
As the pilot skillfully guided them up the coastline, Wes strained to see what was left of the Spinnaker. He was almost afraid to look. But, yes, there it stood like a proud sentinel. He could just make out the outline of the crow’s nest. It was one of the few remaining structures on the island that stood upright, but it brought little joy to his heavy heart.
“That’s my place over there,” he shouted over the loud chopping of the ’copter blades. “Drop down as low as you can and hover over it so I can see what the damage looks like.” He didn’t even voice his silent hope, because he knew how foolish it would seem in the face of this destruction.
Suddenly he jerked his body forward, striking his head against the roof. “What’s that?” Something was flying from the door of the crow’s nest. Something white, like a flag.
“Looks like one of the curtains came loose and flew part-way out the window. Beats me how it could have done that after the storm. It’s a cinch it wasn’t there during the storm.”
Excited now, Wes was trembling. “Can you lower me down there?”
“Are you crazy, man? Sure, I could, but—”
“Well, do it! Just do it!”
Kristen was awake, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. Not when she was having such a deliciously lovely dream. Wes was there, holding her in his arms, and saying her name over and over again.
Slowly and reluctantly she opened her eyes, but the dream didn’t disappear. Wes was there, bending over her, cradling her in his arms, tears rolling down his unshaven cheeks.
“Wes. Is this real? Am I awake? How did you get here?”
“Don’t you ever run out of questions?” he asked, as he crushed her body to his. “My darling Kristen. You’re alive and safe, and that’s all I asked for.”
She still couldn’t believe this was happening, not even when his mouth sought hers in an anything but brotherly fashion. Real or not, it was wonderful. She wrapped her arms about his neck and responded with a fervor equal to his own.
When he finally let her breathe again, she said, “Oh, Wes. You came for me.”
“Kristen, I never want to let you go. I know you don’t love me in the way that I love you, but that’s okay. At least I want you to know how I feel. I’ve loved you for a very long time, even before I knew it myself. I know that you’re in love with Jack, and I’ll have to accept that. But as long as I know you’re safe and happy, I can learn to live with that.”
She drew back from him and eyed him quizzically. “How did you come to decide that I’m not in love with you?”
“Because you told me yourself. You said that there was someone else you loved very much. Don’t you remember telling me that?”
She broke into a broad grin. This was the happiest, most magical day of her life. The miracles just kept pouring out upon her. If this was a dream, so be it. She hoped she would never wake up.
“You didn’t listen very well,” she said. “I told you that there was a special man in my life whom I love very much. But I never told you there was someone else!”
Slowly, as realization began to dawn upon him, a look of pure incredulity spread across his face. “Are you saying that you do love me?”
“More than anything else in the world.”
“And you’ll marry me and share a lifetime together?” He had trouble taking it all in.
“Oh, Wes, whatever years God grants us both, I want to share with you, and stay with you forever.”
This time, when he held her tenderly in his arms and kissed her long and with passion, she was sure that she heard the beautiful ringing of a hundred bells. And not only that. She knew for certain that the fat lady had finally sung!