Page 44 of Down and Dirty

Sammy kept putting his sand crabs into a little pool he had dug in the sand, but the water kept seeping into the sand. He looked up at Zachary. “Where’s my bucket and shovel?”

“I left them in the car.” Zachary looked at her. “Will you be okay watching him if I run up to get them?” At her nod, he said, “I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

She went over to kneel beside Sammy. The little sand crabs were fascinating. So engrossed were the two of them in watching the creatures scurry away that she was unprepared for the wave that came up and covered them both. She was laughing as she righted herself and combed her hair off her face. But then she realized that Sammy had been caught in a riptide.

Slipping off her shoes, she dove under an oncoming wave and began to swim vigorously in a diagonal fashion till she was deliberately caught in the same riptide. It was best not to fight a riptide but let it carry you out to its end. Leastways, that’s what she had always been taught.

Everything had happened so quickly. How could they be out so far already?

She soon caught up to Sammy, whose eyes were wide and terrified as he choked and spat out salt water, fighting to stay afloat. “Shh, shh, you will be safe now,” she said, putting an arm across his front and swimming backward till they were in calmer water. Then he twisted in her grasp and wrapped his two little arms around her neck, hugging tightly.

Zachary was soon beside them in the water.

Sammy clutched her even tighter.

Other members of the party lined the shore, watching, in the event they were needed. Several had taken off shoes and even braies and sherts.

“Come on, little guy,” Zachary said, trying to take Sammy from her. He was bare-chested, having no doubt shed his shert and weapon on the beach afore entering the water.

“Nooooo,” he wailed. To Britta, he whined, “My father will beat me.”

Britta glanced at Zachary, who seemed both angry and hurt by his son’s remark.

“I have never beat you,” Zachary said.

“It wasn’t your fault, Sammy,” she consoled him.

“Now, c’mon. You’re too heavy for Britta,” his father urged.

“Nooooo.”

“He is not too heavy for me,” Britta said… to Zachary’s chagrin, she could tell.

“Okay, let’s go back in together then,” he conceded through gritted teeth.

As they swam side by side, Sammy told his father, “I was only catchin’ sand crabs.”

“I’m not blaming you, Sammy.”

“You will.”

Zachary’s eyes connected with hers for a second, and she saw his misery.

“Go on ahead,” she told Zachary. “And tell the others to go back to the keep. Let me get him settled down a bit first.”

Before he left, Zachary mouthed to her, “Thank you.”

Sometimes love comes not with a bang but a whimper…

Fifteen minutes later, Zach was walking barefooted across the beach, a towel in one hand and a blanket in the other. He was wearing a pair of the commander’s jeans and one of his old T-shirts, his own clothing being soaked.

His hands were still shaking, and that was a shocker to him. He’d engaged in some of the most dangerous black ops in the history of special forces and couldn’t recall ever having been this scared.

He saw that Britta had Sammy on her lap now, arms wrapped around him to ward off the chill, and was talking softly to him. He wrapped the blanket around both of them before dropping down beside them. She glanced his way and nodded her thanks. Sammy was facing the other direction, probably not even aware of Zach’s presence.

If Britta could only see herself holding his son! The reflexive kiss to the top of his head. The soft caress of his back. She would make a wonderful mother. And wife. Oh, man, where did that thought come from?

While his mind had been wandering in that forbidden arena, Zach realized that Britta had encouraged Sammy to talk about himself and how he liked living here in this country.