16

Grace didn’t understand. If she was on her way back to everything that mattered to her, why did she feel like she’d left something important behind?

She stabilized her wrist with her good hand and picked her way through the thinning woods, sighing with relief when Camp Moshe’s beach came into view. Rolling gray clouds dripped rain and choppy waves lapped the shore. Volunteers fought against the wind ripping at the tent tops. Grace’s heart plummeted. How could God let this happen?

Dark clouds shadowed the small, but faithful few who turned out for the event and now chased blowing napkins, paper plates, and beach chairs. Maybe it was time to accept defeat? She massaged her throbbing wrist.

Kye had said nothing was broken. Did a broken heart count?

Heat flooded her face as she remembered their kiss and how she had brazenly leaned into him. For that brief second, everything that was wrong slid into the right position. Even so, what must he think of her?

“Grace!” Jeremy waved from across the beach.

She lumbered toward him, stepping around washed-up driftwood and leaves. The wind whipped her ponytail and sand stung her legs. With Kye on a plane to Phoenix and the storm gusting away, her last shred of hope to save Camp Moshe was lost.

“Mom’s been looking for you everywhere,” Jeremy ran to meet her half way. “Mom said you should move the party inside but figured she should ask you first.”

“Grace, what should we do about the tent? It ripped.” Kaleb held a shredded piece of canvas in his hands.

“Grace, the arts and crafts silent auction table is soaked. I’m afraid it may have ruined some of the donated items.” Kate held out a saturated paper that might have once been a poster or painting.

Grace swayed.

Kaleb grabbed her elbows to keep her upright. “Are you OK?”

Where are you, God? I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. It’s too hard.

Kye’s words rushed back. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to do this alone? Had she picked up a burden that God had never meant for her to carry alone?

She gave herself a shake, and pain shot through her wrist. “I hurt my wrist, but I’ll be OK.” She scanned the destroyed party scene. Kye was right. This never would have been enough to save the camp. She pushed the overwhelming thought aside and focused on the task at hand. “Yes, Jeremy, move the party inside. Kaleb, pack up the tent. We’ll deal with the rip later.” She shook her head at the drooping mess of items in Kate’s hands. “Salvage what you can.”

Kaleb headed to the tent, but Kate and Jeremy lingered.

“Where’s Kye?” Jeremy looked behind her at the way she had come, as if he expected his hero to bound out from the woods and save the day.

“On his way to Phoenix.” Too bad Jeremy’s hero couldn’t be her hero too. She had let Kye slip away like the damp sand slipping out from under her feet. But that didn’t mean she needed to let the camp slip away as easily. She would go down fighting.

“Did you tell him?” The corners of Kate’s mouth pulled into a frown.

“Tell him what?” She feigned ignorance.

Kate sighed and tugged Grace a few steps away. “Did you tell Kye how you really feel?”

“How do you—”

“Oh, Grace,” Kate gently squeezed Grace’s upper arm. “It was obvious to everyone.” Kate’s smile appeared sad. “It’s also obvious that every time you start to feel happy, start to build yourself a life, you let fresh grief swallow you.”

Kate was right. Guilt waited to strike the minute she inched forward past the hurt, past the death of her family.

“Being alone is not safer,” Kate promised. “Just lonelier.” Kate squeezed her good hand as she backed away. “Something to think about.”

Grace watched her friend dash to the arts and crafts table. She turned toward Jeremy and forced a cheerful tone. “Jeremy, I need to find the nurse. Can you round up the plates and cutlery—”

“I can help with that.” Bobby rested a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “We can put everything away, can’t we, Jer?” He nodded at Grace. “Good to see you upright and well.”

“Bobby! I’m so glad to see you. Did Kye get a hold of you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You took us to the wrong place. There was nothing on the wall—”

The shrill of her phone interrupted.

Kye?

“What happened to your face?” Jeremy squinted at Bobby’s shiner.

“Nothing,” he grumbled.

Kye should be sitting on a runway waiting for take-off. Grace turned from the guys to answer. “Shouldn’t you be on a plane right now?” She checked her watch. Maybe the storm delayed his flight?

“Where are you?” he asked.

A deep rumble charged the air and the smell of certain rain wafted.

“The beach, why?” Their phone connection crackled.

“It was…all along it. I…his uncle today. Uncle Carl…tried to buy…years ago.”

“What?” She plugged one ear and pressed the phone closer to the other. “I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up.”

The wind whistled.

“Watch for…stay…coming.” His panicked tone worried her more than the storm gaining strength.

The call disconnected.

“That was weird.” She turned back to the guys, but Bobby and Jeremy were gone.

A crack of thunder split the air and startled the few remaining people on the beach.

“Where’s Jeremy?” Grace’s mom held a sunhat on her head as the quickening wind threatened to snatch it away.

“He left with Bobby to collect supplies from the food tent.” She cupped her good hand around her mouth and yelled, “OK, everyone, we’re taking the party inside!”

“They’re not there.” Her mom shouted to be heard over the chaos of people grabbing what they could and running to shelter. Paper napkins, plates, and plastic cutlery tumbled across the deserted food tent.

“They must have gone to get something else.” But she had specifically asked them to collect the plates and cutlery. Where else could they have gone?

Feet pounded up behind her. A strong hand gripped her arm and spun her around.

“Ow!” She pulled her bad wrist against her body and then flinched at a sudden crack of thunder.

“It was Bobby,” Kye panted, resting his hands on his knees. He glanced at her wrist. “Sorry about that.”

She blinked against the fearsome pain surging through her chest. “What? What was Bobby?”

“Everything. He did it. All of it.”

“All of what?” Ann interjected.

Grace staggered. Bobby?

“Jeremy!” She spun, scanning the beachfront. “He has Jeremy!”

“Who has Jeremy?” Ann’s expression darkened.

In the distance, the boat shed door flapped against its hinges. It should be locked, especially in a storm.

Kye pointed.

She understood.

He grabbed her good hand, and they ran into the wind.

“That man who scammed Uncle Carl is related to Bobby,” Kye shouted, panting hard. “He crashed the meeting. Pressured the board to sell shares. I made the connection and called you.”

They darted into the deserted boatshed just as the rain began to fall.

“What did the board say?” She only half listened. How could he think she’d care about the meeting when her brother was missing?

“I don’t know. I came to find you.”

She stopped. “You came for me?”

“Of course.” His brow puckered as if anything else was absurd.

He came to find her. He missed his flight to find her. Her anxiety lifted. She didn’t need to do this alone.

Fishing gear, life jackets, and nets hung by hooks along the wall. The floating floor rocked beneath them, creaking and groaning with each wave. Only one camp motorboat bounced against the dock inside the shed. The second dock was empty.

Not good.

Dangerous scenarios of boating in an electrical storm flooded her mind.

“We’ll find them,” Kye promised, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“The lifeguard tower! We’ll be able to see more from there.” She took off for the tower, reaching the base as a streak of lightning split the sky. A motor roared in the distance. The missing camp boat skipped across the waves, Bobby at the wheel, and Jeremy waving his arms in distress.

“Jeremy!” she screamed.

Billowing clouds swirled into a darkening haze and created an eerie brownish-green tinge to the sky. The wind changed direction, raising gooseflesh.

Bright lightning flashed.

Grace squinted.

Jeremy struggled against Bobby for control of the wheel. The boat crested a wave, knocking Bobby backward. Jeremy grabbed the wheel and pointed them toward the beach.

Grace sobbed into Kye’s shoulder, not wanting to watch, but unable to look away.

Bobby rose up behind Jeremy.

“Look out!” she screamed.

Bobby backhanded the boy and knocked him into the lake.

“Jeremy!” Ann’s scream pierced the air a split second before Grace hit the water.

She powerfully cut through the short, uneven waves, adrenaline masking the pain shooting through her injured wrist. Her insides swirled like the sandy lake bottom at the repeat of history. Another day flooded her mind. Another sibling in the water. Another struggle.

A lump filled her airway. She gulped and gagged on a mouthful of lake.

The waves grew rougher the farther she swam. The sheer power of the lake tugged her off course. She lifted her head just enough to see. Where was he?

She pressed against the agony throbbing down her arm, sculled a bit with her good arm, and caught a flash of a red shirt.

Head down. Kick-glide. Kick-glide. She peeked again and a nasty wave slapped her face.

Kick…glide…kick…glide. She panted. Where was he?

Do not panic. Do. Not. Panic.

She’d lost her bearing.

Swim normal. That’s what she’d tell a student.

Kick-glide. She caught her breath.

Kick, glide. She found her rhythm.

Kick, glide. She did a six kick and corrected her direction to the left.

She stole another look.

This time she didn’t try to preserve strength. She stretched her head right out of the waves and spied him struggling to stay afloat using his water survival skills. She choked in relief. Thank you, God!

Her injured wrist made her stroke sloppy. She dragged her arm up and around. Over and over. Through the pain. Through the tears. She had to save him. This time she had to save him.

Was this what her dad had felt? How Becky felt? The sickening thought churned her gut. Oh God, please help me!

She pulled from her reserves and plowed ahead. Stroke, kick, glide. Stroke, kick, glide. She mentally repeated the steps over and over. Almost there. She reached out and grazed his skin as a huge wave shoved them both underwater, smashing them against submerged rocks. Jeremy went limp.

Her lungs burned. She reached for him again, but he slipped through her fingers. She was not coming up for air without him! She fought the increasingly desperate urge to inhale, and her fingers collided with skin. She latched on.

She touched her toes on the sandy bottom and pushed up, finally breaking surface and gulping sweet oxygen. The current grabbed hold and slammed her into another rocky sandbar. She instinctively put her body between Jeremy and the rock.

She choked on a scream mixed with water and inhaled more lake. Gagging, she choked and broke surface again. The horizon tilted. Waves crashed over them. She thrust Jeremy toward the oxygen-rich air and cried out as something in her wrist snapped. She gagged again. She had to save him. She’d die before she gave up.

And in that moment she knew. This was why her father went in after Becky. This was the kind of love that risked everything. Not recklessly, but sacrificially.

She pushed Jeremy up again. Her lungs seared. She wasn’t going to make it.

Then, Kye was there, pushing a rescue buoy toward them.

“Hang on, Grace!” Kye fumbled to maintain a hold on them both with one hand.

The water tossed a string of men with arms linked together back and forth. The waves rocked their fragile thread. They’d never get them both out alive.

She used what little she had left and pushed Jeremy toward Kye and the buoy. “Jeremy! Take Jeremy!”

“Grace—” His face contorted as he understood.

If they didn’t get Jeremy out now, he would die. She pushed her brother with all her might and released him to Kye.

“Grace!” The line of men reeled Kye and Jeremy back toward shore. “Grace!” He struggled to release the buoy and it bobbed to the surface. His tears blended with the waves.

She lurched for the buoy, but a crash of water twisted her wrist and swallowed her scream. The buoy bobbed just out of reach.

Another wave rolled over her and knocked her sideways. Everything went black.

~*~

She had pushed herself away from him, forcing him to take Jeremy first. He knew what she was doing, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. His thundering heart drowned out the storm as the human chain of men pulled him and Jeremy to shore.

“Jeremy!” Her mother broke free of Graham’s hold on her and sprinted across the beach.

The waves crashed around Kye as he staggered, cradling Jeremy in his arms.

She lunged toward her son, but Graham jerked her back.

“Let me go!” An animal-like wail exploded as she fought and scratched against Graham.

Kye positioned Jeremy on the sand, and the camp nurse and Debbie, Grace’s assistant, dropped to his side. Satisfied he’d done all he could, he swung back toward the lake, plowing blindly toward the last spot he saw Grace.

Kaleb’s fingers clamped on his forearm like a vice grip. Kye looked down the line of men risking their lives for Grace, exhaustion carved into their steely expressions but refusing to give up. Gratitude washed over him. He couldn’t have done this alone.

Graham had a hold of Kaleb’s forearm, Kaleb clamped onto Eric, and more men followed suit. The second human chain cautiously ventured into the lake, as lightning flashed and a thick bolt struck Moshe Island with a thunderous clap. They were running out of time.

Adrenaline overtook Kye’s fatigue and he scanned the water for the buoy praying she had grabbed hold of it.

Please, God, let us reach her in time.

They trekked into the frothy water toward the red, bobbing rescue device. The swirling storm muddied the water and limited Kye’s ability to see if Grace had a hold of it. They stretched as far as they could. What if the undercurrent swept her out further than they could reach?

He fought the wicked tug of the water. How could he know if they were in the same spot he’d left her? There was no marker, no way to be sure. He blindly swept underwater with his one available hand. Nothing there but the icy pull of death.

Fight, Grace, fight, he willed, straining to see through the torrential rain. He dove until his lungs screamed. Help me, God, please!

His heart leapt. His fingers brushed against something soft. He grabbed hold and yanked. The empty string connected to the buoy surfaced. Grace hadn’t been able to hold onto it.

No!

Lightning lit the sky and Grace’s body momentarily broke surface. A wave washed over her, submerging her again.

“There!” he shouted over the clap of thunder. He clawed his way toward her, snagged her leg underwater, and hauled her toward his body. Closed eyes and blue-lined lips shot fear through his veins.

“I’ve got her!” he roared. He supported her head on his shoulder and tucked his arm around her chest. The waves thrashed against them, trying to snatch her back. He tightened his hold as sheets of wet rolled over them.

The line dragged them to shore. One by one the men dropped to the sand as Debbie and another lifeguard snatched Grace from his grasp. Too exhausted to fight them, he dropped into Graham’s outstretched arms.

“You did good, Son. You did good.”

Debbie stretched Grace out on the sand. She checked her airway and breathing and began chest compressions. “One and two…” She pushed down powerfully on her chest forcing her heart to pump.

Kye dropped to his knees.

“Breath!” Her partner leaned over Grace, pinched her nose, and exhaled two life-giving breaths into her lungs.

“One and two and three and four and five and six and seven and eight and nine and ten.”

“Breath!” The cycle repeated.

Over and over.

Please, God. Please save her.

He dragged his gaze from Grace’s limp form to where Jeremy lay coughing and sputtering. His gaze collided with Grace’s mother, and he couldn’t camouflage his fear. She lunged their way.

Graham intercepted his wife. “You can’t touch her,” he croaked. “You can’t touch her.” He repeated the words until they sank through her layers of shock.

She stilled.

Graham released his grip only slightly. When he seemed satisfied she could remain calm, he let her go.

She sank to the ground near her still daughter and rocked back and forth quietly sobbing.

Kye crawled closer to Grace. He stroked her head and smoothed her damp hair off her face.

“I’ve got a pulse!” Debbie exclaimed.

Kye sobbed.

The rhythmic counting of rescue breathing continued. The nurse dropped down beside Debbie.

“Why isn’t she breathing?” Kye cried.

The nursed raked her gaze over Grace.

Hot tears dripped onto Grace’s hair, and he begged her to breathe. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Stay with us.” Her chest rose and fell with each exhale of the lifeguard.

Sirens wailed in the distance. The storm raged. His ears roared. His vision narrowed and everything faded but Grace. He searched her face for signs of life. Nothing. But then…there it was: a shallow rise and fall of her chest. He choked with relief.

“She’s breathing!”

“Keep breathing,” he begged. “Just keep breathing. Keep breathing.”

He looked at the nurse, desperate to deny what he saw in her face. Her pursed lips tipped down into a grim frown. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she seemed to pray. “Help her, God.”

“Sir, you need to step back.” A heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

Kye whipped around and growled a fierce challenge to anyone who dared try and separate him from Grace.

“Sir,” the paramedic tried again.

During his stupor, the paramedics arrived. He looked about and took in the flashing red lights, the horror-stricken faces of their friends, and the shock in the eyes of her parents.

An insurmountable fear ripped through his body as they peeled him away from Grace. He might never see her alive again.

“Nooo!”