Later, when the company had left and Kyle had gone down for a much-needed nap, Karissa drew Hunter out on the rear deck of their neat and comfortable rambler home. She raised up on her toes and planted a kiss on his lips.
“What was that for?” He tried to wrap his arms around her, but, laughing, she whirled away from him then turned and sauntered close again.
“You do know I love you,” she said, gazing intently up at him.
“I feel the same way about you.” The tender warmth in his eyes punctuated his declaration. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“My tenacious husband. Always back to the point.” She put a world of affection into her tone. Grabbing his hand, she placed it on her still-flat tummy. “In about seven and a half months, shall we give Kyle a brother or a sister?”
A slow grin spread across Hunter’s face. “It’s for sure then?”
“It’s for sure.” She grinned back at him.
“Then I say we are most definitely going to give Kyle a brother or a sister.”
Heart soaring, she let him succeed in pulling her close. Their kiss lasted a wonderfully long time.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Danger in the Deep by Karen Kirst.
Dear Reader,
I’m so glad you came along on this adventure with Karissa and Hunter and, of course, baby Kyle. Though everything came out well in the end for them, there were certainly sad times, scary times and hurtful times along the route. In a real sense, that’s life for all of us.
The truth is, we struggle with many problems and trials in this world. My hope and prayer for us all is that we walk in that “blessed hope” of Scripture that an eternity of joy in God’s presence awaits us. May we be able to express as Karissa did at the end of the story that death holds no terrors for us. Nor should anything this life can throw at us. The apostle Paul was adamant that nothing “shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:39).
We cling to promises like the verse above when doubts and temptations assail us and hurtful things happen. Even if we end up the last one in our family, as Karissa did, God is our heavenly family and will provide human connections to warm our hearts and lives. God is, indeed, a good, good Father.
I enjoy hearing from readers. You may contact me by email at [email protected] or look me up on my website at jillelizabethnelson.com. I am also available to contact through my Facebook page: Facebook.com/jillelizabethnelson.author.
May your trust in the Lord grow deeper and richer as you read the stories God gives His writers for Love Inspired Suspense.
Blessings always,
Jill Elizabeth Nelson
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Danger in the Deep
by Karen Kirst
ONE
Olivia Smith entered the North Carolina Coastal Aquarium’s vast ocean tank and slowly maneuvered through the balmy water. Something felt off about this dive. Her wet suit was uncomfortable. Her air cylinder was heavier than usual. She was having trouble adjusting to the rush of compressed gas and—for a terrifying moment—experienced a suffocating sensation. Bubbles spurted past her eyes, and the gurgling sound that accompanied being underwater pulsed in her ears.
Focus. There’s no reason to panic. No one has drowned in this tank, and you’re not about to be the first.
She concentrated on regulating her breathing and calming her agitated mind. This had nothing to do with her scuba gear and everything to do with the unpleasant night ahead—playing tour guide for a man who could barely tolerate her.
US Marine Corps pilot Captain Brady Johnson was her late husband’s best friend, and he was on his way to her aquarium. More specifically, he was coming for tonight’s Sleep with the Sharks overnight program. Olivia would be stuck with him the entire night as she guided his group of at-risk youth on an after-hours behind-the-scenes tour.
While Derek was alive, she and Brady had played nice. Well, she hadn’t been playing. She genuinely liked Brady, and it hurt that he didn’t feel the same. Now that Derek was gone, she didn’t know how to act around the standoffish pilot.
Their one and only green sea turtle, Terry, swam over to greet her. He was an aquarium favorite. He had survived a collision with a boat propeller and had lost one of his back legs, yet he’d retained his innate curiosity. He noticed her co-diver, Erin, and swam over to say hello. Beneath them, three sand tiger sharks glided in procession past one of the viewing areas.
A large cownose ray brushed her shoulder, reminding her to stay focused on the task at hand. While the myriad creatures in this tank were fed on a regular schedule and posed little threat, she had to keep her wits about her. Olivia signaled to Erin that she was descending to the deepest part of the tank. She was hoping to collect Atlantic spadefish eggs that she and her coworker Roman needed for their groundbreaking breeding program. If they could continue to successfully breed saltwater fish in the aquarium—an extremely challenging task—their need to catch wild populations would lessen. Other aquariums could utilize their findings and implement their own programs. The impact would be far-reaching and beneficial for all involved.
Her downward journey through the crystal-clear water took her between towering, misshapen artificial reef formations. At forty feet, their tank was one of the deepest in the country. Because some of the spaces were tight, Erin had chosen not to accompany her. Erin was notoriously claustrophobic and preferred to remain in the open water closer to the surface and interact with the sea creatures there.
Olivia reached the bottom and waved to the guests at the viewing window. A young girl decked out in neon pink caught her eye. The girl appeared to be transfixed by Olivia. She stood with her hands pressed to the glass, her eyes as big as quarters.
Charmed, Olivia swam closer and initiated a game of rock, paper, scissors. At first the girl’s shyness got the better of her. Then, with her mother’s encouragement, she played along. A crowd gathered. Olivia was enjoying herself until she lifted her gaze and recognized the blond man standing apart from the rest.
Why had he come early? The program didn’t begin until after normal business hours.
Brady offered her a strained smile and half-hearted wave.
An emotional whirlpool churned up familiar frustration. Would it kill him to at least act happy to see her?
He’d checked on her three times in the eleven months since Derek’s aneurysm. The visits had been brief and underscored with tension. Brady was no actor. His true feelings weren’t hard to decipher. He didn’t want to see her. He’d come because he owed it to his best friend. When he wasn’t around, she convinced herself she didn’t care what he thought. But then she’d see him again, and old wounds festered.
Lost in the past, she wasn’t prepared when her mouth regulator erupted and spewed out her scuba cylinder contents. A torrent of bubbles invaded her mouth and hindered her vision. A smothering sensation stole over her as hundreds of thousands of gallons pressed in on her. The surface, far overhead, wasn’t visible, and neither was her buddy, Erin.
Concentrate, Olivia. What’s the solution?
She struggled to remember her instructor’s advice. What had he said to do in this situation?
Of course. Breathe out the side, letting most of the bubb
les escape. Sucking in multiple uneven breaths, she checked the pressure gauge. Almost empty. No, that couldn’t be right. She’d made sure it was full during her predive check. It couldn’t have released that much gas in the span of a minute or two.
She unhooked her small bailout bottle and put its accompanying regulator in her mouth. But nothing happened. She tapped the pressure gauge again and again. Why wasn’t it working?
Dizziness overtook her.
She didn’t have enough air to do a controlled ascent. Her time in the water wasn’t an issue, but this depth was a major problem. Excess nitrogen in her bloodstream and tissues could form into bubbles if she rushed to the surface. Decompression sickness wasn’t something she wanted to risk. Excruciating joint pain or skin rashes she could handle. But if those bubbles burst in her nervous system, she was facing paralysis or even death.
Glancing above her, she saw only a twisted maze of dense rock. Her vision blurred, and her lungs felt like twin balloons about to burst.
Olivia did what she’d been taught not to do.
She panicked.
* * *
Brady shouldered his way through the onlookers.
“Mommy, what’s wrong with the lady?”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine, sweetie.” The young mother took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go find a snack.”
Brady took advantage of the vacated spot, which gave him a clearer view of this section of the tank. Unease built as Olivia swatted at the bubbles and shoved off the tank floor, heedless of her surroundings. When she almost rammed into the rock behind her, concerned murmurs rippled through the crowd around him.
Her long black hair floated around her face, further hampering her vision. The bubbles continued to gush from her breathing device. She was in danger of running out of air if she didn’t act soon. And if she continued to panic, she could hit her head against the rock formations and lose consciousness.
The intensity of the apprehension welling up inside surprised him. Every single critical thought he’d entertained about Olivia Smith evaporated as he watched her struggle. Whatever her motives for marrying Derek had been, she’d made him happy during the short time they were together.
Brady went in search of an aquarium employee. He found a teenage boy at a drinks station.
“There’s an emergency in the shark tank. A diver is in trouble.”
The boy stared at him in confusion.
“Do you have a comms system?” Brady demanded.
“Sir?”
Assuming his sternest stare, he grated out, “Take me to the tank entrance.”
“But you’re not allowed—”
“I’m a friend of Olivia Smith’s.” That was a stretch, but a necessary one. “She needs assistance. Now.”
His Adam’s apple bobbing, he abandoned the queue of customers and jogged up the ramp. “This way.”
As they dodged curious guests, Brady found himself praying for the woman he’d spent months mentally maligning. Olivia’s in trouble, Lord. Please help her. For Derek’s sake.
They entered an employee-only stairwell and raced to the top level. Bursting into a room containing large plastic tubs stocked with tiny fish and glass jars hooked to tubes, the boy led him through a second door that opened onto a walkway surrounding the enormous tank.
A short, curly-haired man standing at a dry-erase board printed with feeding schedules frowned at them.
“Leon, why did you abandon your post?” He studied Brady. “This area is restricted, sir. You’ll have to return to the guest viewing area.”
Brady bent over the railing and searched in vain for a glimpse of her. “Olivia’s down there with malfunctioning equipment. She’s running out of air.”
Below the rippling surface, schools of fish swam in formation, oblivious to the disturbance at the bottom.
The sky was Brady’s domain, not the water. But he’d brave the deep blue if it meant saving Derek’s widow. He headed to the dive dock. The other man was retrieving a wet suit, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. Didn’t he realize every second mattered?
Spotting a second diver, Brady made a split-second decision. He shucked off his jacket and placed his cell in the folds. Then he jumped in and, ignoring the shouts of protest behind him, sliced through the water to her side. The other diver was near the surface, but on the far side of the tank. It seemed to take forever to reach her. Behind the mask, her eyes went wide.
He grabbed her arm and gestured to the bottom. At first, she didn’t respond. Frustrated, Brady started to tow her along with him. Finally, she seemed to understand, because she wrestled free, gestured for him to return to the dock and then darted toward the reef formations.
Straining for air, he returned to the surface and a flurry of activity.
“Come out of there at once!” The curly-headed man looked as if he’d like to feed Brady to the sharks, while Leon’s expression was frozen in horror.
The realization of what he’d done registered. He was in a tank with multiple creatures that might decide he’d make a tasty snack. They were used to the aquarium staff sharing their habitat, but a random guy who had scant knowledge about their feeding preferences or behaviors? Focusing on the dock, he wasted no time getting there.
Water sluiced down his body onto the metal grid beneath his sodden tennis shoes. While the older man read him the riot act, he scanned the water for Olivia.
Would the other diver reach her in time?
“Good, security’s here. You’re going to be escorted off the premises, sir.”
Movement beside him belatedly registered, and he looked up into the grim visage of the security guard.
“You’ll need to come with me, Mr.—”
“It’s Captain Johnson. Look, I know I broke a rule of some sort, and I apologize. I will leave without a fuss, but first I need to see that Olivia is all right.”
The guard’s nostrils flared, and he rested his hand on the weapon at his hip. “You will leave now.”
Brady hadn’t ever been arrested or spent a night in jail. The prospect hadn’t even occurred to him. Now he found himself debating the cost of his actions. He wasn’t leaving until Olivia was out of that tank.
“I see them!” Leon shouted.
Brady spotted the two divers. The brunette was assisting Olivia through the water and sharing her air with her. The fact she was conscious was a good sign, but he couldn’t give in to relief just yet.
A hand clamped on to his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Can’t he stay a little longer?” Leon piped up. “He’s friends with Olivia.”
The man in charge—James, according to his name badge—eyed Brady with skepticism. “How do you know her?”
“She was married to a pilot friend of mine.” A trivial label for the friendship that had saved his career, and possibly even his life. Grief, that terrible companion that caught him unawares and threatened hard-won control, slammed into him again.
“You knew Derek?”
He cleared his throat. “We met in flight school.”
James nodded to the guard, who retreated to the railing with a disgusted scowl. The group returned their attention to the divers, who appeared to stop every few feet and tread water. When the pair finally reached the dock, he put a hand beneath Olivia’s arm and helped her out of the water.
“Brady.” Once on her feet, she shifted out of his grip, removed her eye mask and peeled the wet strands off her face. He noticed her hands were trembling. “How did you get up here?”
“Leon brought me. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her rich brown eyes told another tale. The incident had shaken her. Her nose crinkled. “Why are you wet?”
Leon grinned. “He jumped in to help you.”
Her jaw sagged. “You did what?”
Olivia’s disbelief was to
be expected. He’d frozen her out, not taking pains to hide his suspicions that she was using Derek to perpetuate a fantasy. He’d seen it all too often...local girls who painted pilots in a glamorous light and thought they could achieve a Top Gun dream life. She’d had Derek talking marriage after a week. That wasn’t a sign of an authentic bond. It was the sign of a campaign launched to dazzle and distract.
“What happened down there?”
“Regulator free-flow.” Seeing his lifted brows, she amended, “The gas started discharging from my cylinder. My regulator malfunctioned.”
James turned to her. “Didn’t they teach you how to handle that in dive school?”
“They did.” Olivia’s black brows pulled together. “It hasn’t happened to me before, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry for worrying the guests.” Tugging off her fingerless gloves, she looked at Brady. “Did I frighten the little girl?”
“Her mother distracted her.”
“What about your backup?” James persisted.
Brady bristled at his accusatory tone, but he muzzled the brewing retort. This man could be Olivia’s superior, and he didn’t want to get her in trouble.
Sinking onto a metal bench, she tugged off her fins one by one. “Something’s wrong with it. My primary cylinder, too. I checked both before I went in, and they were fine.”
The brunette interjected. “She’s right. We inspected our equipment at the same time.”
“The gauges showed they were full,” she said, straightening. “Down there, it was a different story. My large cylinder was nearly empty and the pony bottle was completely out.”
James planted his hands on his hips. “It would be unusual for one to malfunction, but not both.”
Silence reigned. Brady voiced what no one else seemed willing to. “Did you leave your equipment unsupervised between the time of your inspection and the time you entered the water?”
Olivia let her fins clatter to the floor. “What are you suggesting?”
Lone Survivor Page 18