I wish I’d mailed the letters.
I wish I’d made it to my golden birthday.
After all, she’d spent twelve years wondering if he’d show. Or maybe that pact had been long forgotten, sucked down to the depths like dirt down a drain.
The next wave enveloped Louisa completely, heaving her under for so many seconds she was certain she’d lost the way back up and into the air. But no, another toss and there it was again—glorious oxygen.
She inhaled a sharp breath and coughed.
I wish I’d fallen in love.
She looked up at the sky, which had turned gray and dark. She hadn’t realized she had so many regrets. Her teeth chattered and she started to tire. These waves were kicking her butt. She’d practically resigned herself to dying when she spotted a headlight—a boat out in the sound.
She tried to lift her arm, but it was so heavy. She tried hauling herself onto the board, but she didn’t have the strength. Maybe she wasn’t doing as well as she thought. Maybe she’d already half died. She looked for a white light in the sky but saw nothing.
Maybe white lights were only for people who weren’t responsible for someone else’s death.
She’d never get over that as long as she lived, though it seemed that might not be much longer. Unless someone in that boat was the answer to her prayer.
She had to stay awake. She had to hold on. They had to see her.
Please see me.
The boat cut through the water, tossing in the wind, and again Louisa tried to wave.
I wish I’d fallen in love.
It was supposed to be routine. Summer on Nantucket hadn’t even started yet, but when Cody Boggs spotted the yellow paddle floating in the water, his gut wrenched.
They’d gotten a call from someone on the beach only moments ago—possible swimmer in the water.
“It’s hard to make out,” the caller had said. “But I felt like I should call. If it’s a person, they’re in danger.”
Cody was already out on the water, his first time on the boat with the crew, so they sped toward the reported sighting. They were about to give up when Cody saw it. A paddle, but no kayak. No paddleboard. No canoe. No person.
Odd.
“Slow down,” he told the ship’s coxswain. He glanced at one of the petty officers. “Do you see that?”
A tight line creased the other man’s brow. “The paddle? Yeah.”
“I’m going to take a look.” Cody pushed through the door and out onto the deck of the lifeboat, where two other men stood.
“See something, sir?”
“Not sure.” Cody scanned the water through his binoculars, looking for any sign, pausing on the shoreline of Nantucket.
The one place he swore he’d never be stationed. The one place they needed him.
The paddle bobbed in the water. The wind had kicked up, one of those instances where the weather changed without notice.
Anyone could’ve thought it was going to be a decent day on the water. He would’ve thought so too at first blush, but he knew not to ever trust the ocean.
The coxswain turned the boat and sped parallel to the island, passing Madaket Beach. No sign of anyone in distress. But none of the men on that boat wanted to head back to the station without the absolute certainty they’d done all they could to ensure there was no one out in that water.
Cody shifted his gaze from the beach to the sea, scanning the vast ocean, looking for any sign of life.
Nothing.
His gut didn’t usually steer him wrong. He was always ready for the tide to turn—on the water and in his life.
The coxswain opened the cabin door. “Head back to the station?”
“Go out a little further,” Cody called back.
The man did as his XPO ordered, and Cody whispered a prayer. Same prayer he always whispered in these kinds of situations. “Lord, if I can save one soul, lead me to them now.”
They cruised through the water, the wind tossing the forty-seven-foot boat around like a rag doll. They sped away from the shore, and Cody put the binoculars down, relying on his eyes to lead him to anyone who might be in danger.
His eyes, his gut, and the good Lord above. Those had always been his most trusted allies.
And maybe there was no one. Maybe this time his gut had steered him wrong.
“Nobody’s out here, sir,” a seaman named Jessup called out. “Wind’s getting nasty. We should head back.”
Cody planted his feet on the deck of the boat as water poured over the side. Nasty for them, yes, but deadly for someone in the water without a paddle.
Or maybe the paddle had floated away from somebody’s dock. Or maybe someone had already perished and they were too late.
As the next swell jolted the boat, the men at his side lost their balance, both reaching for the railing to steady themselves. Cody didn’t move an inch.
As the water lowered the boat back down, he spotted the faintest shock of red in the water up ahead. He lifted a hand, then turned to face the coxswain, who’d caught the same glimpse and now sped toward the object.
Could be nothing. But what if it wasn’t?
The red object had disappeared, and Cody took out the binoculars again and scanned the water. The white-capped waves dispersed, and there it was, only this time, Cody had the object in his sights. This time, it was clear that this was no piece of discarded plastic—it was a paddleboard, and there was a woman clinging to it.
The person on the beach had been right. There was someone in the water.
The coxswain maneuvered the boat closer to the woman, slowly—and Cody locked his gaze on her. When they were close enough, one of the men threw a flotation device. The woman reached for it, but a wave pushed the ring out of her reach.
“She looks tired,” Cody said, mostly to himself. How long had she been out here?
His heart kicked up a notch. He was trained for this, and yet there would always be a part of him that had to steady his own thoughts when it came to the ocean.
But then there would also always be a part of him that was filled with rage when it came to these watery depths. A part that refused to let them win.
The seaman at his side tugged the flotation device in and tried again, but the brutal waves poured over the woman’s head, and the weight of the water pulled her under. Her hand slipped off the paddleboard, and she struggled to hold on.
The woman went under again, and after another wave, only her paddleboard surfaced.
Cody hadn’t been promoted to executive petty officer because he was impulsive. Quite the opposite. He was levelheaded. Calm in the face of danger. He prided himself on it.
Maybe it was Nantucket that had cast a spell on him, stealing away all the work he’d done these twelve years to overcome what the ocean had stolen from him. What other explanation could there be for his grabbing a pair of goggles and diving into the angry water, determined not to let this woman drown?
Determined not to let this ocean win.
He glided through the water, the strength of the storm doing little to slow him down. He’d trained for this. He lived for this. To keep the sea from stealing souls—that was the goal. And he didn’t like to lose.
The water wasn’t going to get this woman, no matter how remiss she’d been to go out without checking the forecast. Not today, ocean. If you want her, you’re gonna have to go through me.