“I can think of one other woman,” I said, glancing at Patrice.
He laughed. “I suppose you’re right. But she wouldn’t have done this without you.”
I looked up into the sky again and spoke quietly. “No, that’s true. But still, neither of us would have survived if not for you.”
The silence of the world of water around us was astounding. I closed my eyes and listened to nothing but Mr. Ashby’s breathing. It was a long time before I heard anything else.
“And I don’t think I could survive without you,” he whispered with such heartbreaking tenderness, I almost opened my eyes and reached out toward him. But I had no doubt he never intended for me to hear his admission. Besides, one should never be held accountable for what they say—or think—in such perilous circumstances as these.
Chapter 16
Onthesecondmorning,we finally saw land. It seemed closer than when we were on the ship, but only slightly. Then again, who could recall something so long as two days ago?
Two days, and our food had already run out. Our water we saved and only drank when we felt like we were dying of thirst. As the hours ticked by, that feeling came around more and more frequently. How much longer would it be until we reached that distant land? Had we made a mistake going out in this dinghy? I would have asked these questions, but none of us had the energy to speak. So we suffered in silence and took turns rowing.
As we drained the last drop of water, the sun was setting. Patrice and I began to fall asleep. Mr. Ashby continued rowing. He must have rowed through the night, for when I awoke, the sunrise had begun again. After a few moments of watching its beauty, I gasped.
There, in the distance, I saw a ship.
We were saved! I looked at Mr. Ashby and smiled with painfully dry lips. His eyes lit hopefully and I shook Patrice. We all looked toward the ship with desperation. I stood, taking care not to rock the boat, and lifted my arms up to alert the ship.
“Help!” I called with all my might. My throat was ragged and only let out a small squeak. I swallowed what little saliva I had and tried again. “HELP!” I cried, this time with much more success.
I waited until we got closer to the ship to try once more. “Help us!” I repeated several times, waving my arms frantically.
The ship continued to close the distance between us, and for a moment I worried they would sail right over us. But they turned and I saw the name of the ship.Maelstrom.A foreboding name, but with no other options, I clung to the hope that the crew was kinder than it suggested.
A rope ladder was thrown down to us and Mr. Ashby grasped it with great effort. He held it firmly and motioned for Patrice and me to climb. Once we did and fell onto the deck, Mr. Ashby followed. With barely enough strength to move, we sat up and thanked the crew that gathered around us.
“Two women and a man, making their way through the Caribbean in a dinghy. Do you have a death wish?” a strangely gleeful voice asked. It seemed to be coming from a tall, elderly man in a garish hat.
I squinted at him and coughed before replying. “We were trying to survive, sir. But we underestimated the distance to shore.”
“So you are not experienced sailors, then,” he observed.
I shook my head and then motioned to Mr. Ashby. “I thought he was, but it was his idea. So I may have been wrong about him.”
Mr. Ashby met my eyes with a smile and we laughed. Patrice shook with weak laughter, too.
“I see you’ve gone mad,” a female voice with an exotic accent said. When I looked at her, I was amazed by her beauty. She had rich, umber skin and black hair that was tied up in matted locks. Her arms were bare and as muscled as any man’s, although still wholly feminine. Besides her intimidating appearance, her face was filled with kindness. I wanted to trust her immediately.
“Indeed, I think we have,” I said.
“Slate,” the first man called to someone. “Take these unfortunate people to the mess deck and see that they’re fed.”
“Yes, Captain,” a man said. His voice was smooth, deep, Scottish, and strangely familiar. I had been jesting about losing my sanity…but perhaps it was true.
When his face came into view, I stood and my mouth fell open, tears welling in my eyes. Despite my weakened state, I threw my arms around his neck. It was him. My Graham!
“I found you!” I cried, though my words were muffled into his shoulder. When I pulled back, I looked into his face and saw his straight nose, strong jaw, and thick mahogany hair.
Then I met his eyes.
Those usually warm and welcoming brown eyes were…entirely confused.
He gazed at me with hesitation. I didn’t understand. I slowly let my hands slide down his arms, which he’d kept to his sides. I thought it was remarkable that fate had brought us together again. I thought…this was the glorious end to a miserable journey. I imagined we’d reunite happily, even if he was shocked to see me.Surelyno matter how sudden our reunion was, he would have shownsomekind of happiness.
But Graham stepped back from me and from those very lips that had made promises of love and marriage, those lips that had pressed sweetly against mine, he uttered an unfathomable sentence.
