The young boy quieted mid-shriek, and his mother gasped loudly. Jenna registered their reactions even as she tossed her sandals and ran into the surf. Swiftly she plowed through the water to where Kenny had disappeared, diving under just as another fierce wave broke. Moments later she resurfaced, a listless Kenny tucked under one arm, and began the arduous task of pulling them both back to safety.

Her years as a YMCA lifeguard had not prepared her for her current predicament. She was struggling to keep her momentum in the shifting undertow when she glimpsed a blur of movement on the shore. Blinking her stinging eyes, she saw the figure of a man splashing toward them, his stride long as his knees pumped him into the water. He dove in and propelled himself through the water with sure strokes.

Still several yards from her, he slowed into a dog paddle. “Wave!” he called out and disappeared from sight.

She rolled onto her back, pulled Kenny’s head and torso across her chest to ride the swell, and held her breath. Once the surf began to even out, she rolled back onto her side, adjusted Kenny’s still inert body, and continued her modified breaststroke toward shore.

Seconds passed with the stranger nowhere in sight. When a head full of slick, black hair surfaced beside her, light-colored eyes glinting in a ruggedly masculine face, she had to hold back tears.