Page 63 of Part of Your World

Muriel ignored the calls of the sailors above, her focus locked on a struggling Fletcher kicking in the water about ten feet from her.

I told ye to float, Fletcher, not swim.

But the boy was terrified. Of course he'd try to get away. He swam on his back, his bound arms on his chest as his legs kicked. He remained afloat for the moment, but he'd tire quickly, especially with his shoes and wet clothes adding weight. Even now, his face bobbed barely above the surface.

"There! I see the boy."

"What about the girl?"

"Don't matter. Our job was the boy. I'm taking a shot."

Muriel immediately did a surface dive, but instead of folding cleanly into the water, she angled her body to slap against the surface and kicked her legs to spray water into the boat. She prayed the commotion would distract the smugglers and perhaps even draw their fire. She'd be a harder target to hit. Once under water, she stroked long and hard, determined to get to her nephew. A muffled clap sounded behind her, and the water shuddered with the impact of a bullet. Something stung her calf, making her flinch and draw her knees to her chest. But only for a heartbeat. Fletcher was sinking.

Uncoiling, Muriel stroked and lunged through the water to get to Fletcher. Another shot echoed from above, more muted, as if from a greater distance. And this time, no pressure-filled vibrations punched the water around her. Kicking toward the surface, she came up beneath her nephew, and at the last minute, rolled over so that his back bumped against her chest. Hugging him to her with one arm, she propelled them toward the surface with the other. As their heads broke through, they both sucked in air.

"I got ye, Fletcher. Rest easy, lad."

Tension drained from his body as he relaxed against her. Until another shot cracked through the night air. He flinched. As did Muriel.

"'Tis all right," she murmured. "It came from behind us." Turning them in the water, she spotted a bright light aimed at the smuggler's ship. "Someone's helpin' us."

"Revenue cutters!" One of the smugglers shouted.

"Weigh anchor!" the other answered. "If they stop to help the boy, we can outrun 'em. Make sail!"

Thanking the Lord that the smugglers were no longer shooting, she swam Fletcher toward the light as the ship behind them groaned and clanked with the retrieval of the anchor. A beam of light from a reflector lantern swept the sea slowly. Then she heard it. Her name. In Da's deep bellow. Praise the Lord!

"Here!" She stopped swimming and waved her free arm above the waves. "We're here!"

The light panned over, making her squint against the brightness.

Fletcher added his shouts to hers.

Oars slapped water as Liam's voice called out, "I'm comin', Fletcher. Hold on, son."

"Da!" Fletcher's voice choked on a relieved sob, and Muriel's heart throbbed in response.

Minutes later, Da had the rowboat positioned alongside them. Liam hauled his son out of the water and hugged the boy to his chest.

"Praise be. I thought I'd lost ye."

"Muriel saved me, Da. She saved me." Tears from both Fletcher and Liam overtook his explanation.

Muriel held onto the side of the boat with one hand as she watched the reunion, her soul so overflowing with gratitude, she couldn't think past that moment.

"Give me yer hand, dear heart."

Da. Muriel turned her attention away from Fletcher to find her father leaning toward her, arm extended. His eyes glistened with moisture and his white hair glowed in the moonlight. Her own guardian angel. She reached for him. He clasped her arm and drew her from the water and straight into his arms.

"Ye're safe now." His arms encircled her, forming a cocoon against the night air as the heat from his body warmed her skin. He cupped her head to his chest and leaned his jaw against her wet hair. The comforting beat of his heart echoed in her ear. "Thank the Lord Almighty. Ye both are safe."

"Muriel, yer bleedin'!" Fletcher pointed at Muriel's leg.

"Am I?" She leaned away from her da and examined her left calf. A stream of blood trickled down her leg. And because she was looking at it, the ornery thing decided to start stingin' again. She winced. "Ah. One of the bullets nicked me. It's not deep. I'll be fine."

"What ye'll be is wrapped in that blanket and sittin' down so I can row ye to shore and have a doctor tend ye." Da gave a look that forbade her to argue, not that she planned to do so. His plan suited her just fine. Except for one part.

"Aye. But I need to see Zane before the doctor, Da." Liam draped a blanket over her shoulders from behind, and she clasped it closed around her as shivers set her to trembling. "I need to know he's all right."