Stranded

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Stranded Page 2

by Dani Pettrey


  “The raft is overturned and pinned against the rocks. Two of the young men went out to help and were swept away in the current. One showed up about a half a mile downstream, battered on the shore. The other hasn’t been seen since,” Gage’s older brother, Cole, said.

  Cole was head of Yancey’s volunteer search and rescue crew, which consisted of all Gage’s siblings; Deputy Sheriff Landon Grainger, his youngest sister’s fiancé; and Last Frontier Adventures’ employee and good family friend, Jake Westin. In addition, a number of auxiliary volunteers were combing the shores, but the technical rescues were up to the trained core circled around Cole at the moment. Floodlights shone down on them and fanned out across the raging water.

  Sheriff Bill Slidell and the rest of his deputies had the teens corralled. No sense letting any of them near the water again. The last thing they needed was more casualties. The spring wind howling through the valley lashed against Gage’s cheeks along with the dashing rain. The mid-May water temperatures were likely over freezing with all the melting snow working its way down the mountain face.

  “According to the group, there were three teens and a kid in the raft.”

  “A kid?” Piper’s eyes widened.

  “Barry Moore thought he was being kind bringing his kid brother Tommy along for the weekend.”

  Gage watched the emotion swell in his sister’s eyes.

  “Two of the four made it back to shore. We’re looking for Barry, his brother Tommy, and the second rescuer. Water is too shallow for divers, so this will be a swift-water rescue with no eyes on the victims, which makes you point, Gage.”

  He nodded. “We need to set up secure lines running from the site of the incident to a half mile downstream. We search in teams of two, always anchored in.” He looked at his sister Kayden. “How long?”

  She looked at her watch. “Call came in twenty minutes ago. Accident occurred at least ten before that.”

  Which meant the odds were high they were looking at retrieval, not rescue. Factoring in the strength of the rapids, the temps of the water, and the lack of daylight, chances were slim they’d be able to do any good. But they’d give it their best. Gage lifted his whistle. “Signal if you see anything, and we’ll move to you. No one goes under without the full team in line-up position. Understood?”

  Everyone nodded their consent and set to work.

  The rapids’ pull was strong, buckling Gage’s knees as he waded in full dry suit out toward the wreckage. Piper was on lights and communication. The closer they came to what remained of the tattered raft, the more incensed Gage became. “What were they thinking?”

  “They weren’t,” Kayden said beside him. “It’s clear from the empty beer cans, they’ve all been drinking.”

  “Barry had no right endangering his little brother like that.” Gage’s gloved fingers snagged hold of the outer edge of the raft. Working with his sister, they peeled the battered and frayed raft from the boulder it’d been plastered to, hoping they’d find Barry or Tommy clinging to the rock beneath it—but no luck.

  “Angle the light down,” he hollered over the rapids, directing Piper with the wave of his arm. The beam slid down the rock’s surface. “On the swell beneath,” he directed, his headlamp too dim to penetrate more than a few inches below the tumultuous surface. “Pan to the right.”

  The shaft of light moved, and Gage’s breath caught—the pale face of a little boy. Gage blew three long whistles and repeated. His team shifted to assist.

  Once everything was secured and everyone was in position, Gage dove beneath the surface. Tommy’s hair floated above his head, swaying with the river’s pull, and his little arms swayed out at his sides.

  Gage dove deeper, his headlamp illuminating only inches in front of him. He followed Tommy’s small body down. His right leg was free but was being battered against the rock with each new crushing rapid swirling in. His left leg was pinned between the large boulder and a smaller one nestled beside it.

  Gage surfaced, gulping in air. “He’s pinned. We’re going to need tools.”

  Cole, being the expert diver—even if they were only dealing with a depth of four feet—swapped places with Kayden and accompanied Gage back under the water to free Tommy’s leg from the boulder’s crushing hold.

  Working together, they managed to free Tommy and bring him to the surface.

  Gage handed Tommy’s limp body to Cole, who passed the boy down the line toward shore.

  “Noooo,” a woman wailed as Tommy’s battered body reached land.

  Sheriff Slidell quickly intercepted Tommy’s mom, Gail, who’d arrived on the scene along with her husband, Tom. Slidell tugged her away from her son so the paramedics could work.

  Gage’s heart wrenched at the mother’s anguished wails. He knew firsthand the torment of watching your child die.

  Two hours later, Gage and the crew returned to Yancey’s fire station, where the team stored the majority of their gear.

  Cole’s hand clamped on his shoulder. “We brought both boys home.”

  It was true, they’d pulled the brothers from the water, but it brought Gage little consolation. Both boys were dead. A group of teenagers’ idea of fun had destroyed a family.

  “They had no business being out there. They didn’t have the skills.”

  “I agree.” Cole sat on the bench beside him. “They were drinking. It impaired their logic, and what they expected would be a fun ride ended up killing Barry and Tommy, and we still have one teen missing.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go tomorrow. I should stay and help find the missing boy.”

  “No. We made a commitment to the Bering. You go. There are plenty of us to comb the water and the shores. Besides, we both know that there’s little chance we’ll ever find him.”

  It was a sad statistic, but unfortunately his brother was right. The rapids led out to the Gulf of Alaska and on to the Pacific Ocean. Unless the teen’s body was pinned somewhere beneath the surface that they’d overlooked, chances he’d still be found were slim.

  “You think they learned anything?” Water safety was nothing to be trifled with. Treating it lightly endangered not only your own life but the lives of others—the teen rescuer still missing had reportedly tried to warn the others of the potential dangers, and when they didn’t listen, he’d been the first in the water to try and help. He’d paid with his life for their foolishness.

  Cole leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs. “I imagine none of their lives will be the same. At least I pray that’s the case.”

  Gage pulled to a stop before his rental cabin and glanced up at the darkness overhead. It befuddled him how his intelligent siblings could worship a God that let children die so senselessly. He had to admit that last winter—being around Darcy, witnessing the passion and depth of her faith—he’d actually begun to waver in his steadfast refusal to believe, but tonight brought all his hurt and anger roiling right back to the surface.

  Stalking across the muddy drive, he climbed the wooden porch steps to his cabin. Flipping on the light, he kicked the door shut behind him and dropped his gear bag on the ground, wishing he could shuck the crushing weight constricting his chest.

  He’d thought he’d finally reached a point of functioning, of existing, and then Darcy St. James had strolled into his life—barreled into it was more like it. She’d stayed barely a month, but it’d been more than enough time for her to anchor herself into what remained of his heart.

  When she’d returned to California, he’d assured himself everything would go back to normal—well, at least to routine—but five months and counting and he still couldn’t shake her from his mind.

  He glanced at the clock. Nearly five a.m. He was scheduled to report to the Bering at eight. Should he even bother trying to sleep?

  With a sigh, he tossed his clothes on the floor and plopped on the bed, figuring a couple hours were better than nothing. Rain slashed against his windows, dripping off the gutters. Tommy’s pale face would haunt his
dreams.

  He rolled over, incensed anger biting at him. But the Bering job was just what he needed. The first day of a new journey—a ten-day voyage across the Bering Sea, leading adventure activities and kayak excursions for the passengers. He hoped new places and new faces would prove enough distraction for him to finally erase Darcy St. James from his mind.

  Well, maybe not erase entirely—she was awfully pretty to think on. The problem was the amount of time he thought about her—how her eyes lit when she was on to something, the cute dimple that formed in her right cheek when she smiled, and the way his heart beat a little harder when she laughed.

  He needed a diversion, and Kayden’s on-site excursion proposal finally being picked up by Destiny Cruise Line provided the perfect one.

  Kayden didn’t even bat an eye when he’d so readily offered to take point on the trial run, but she wasn’t the sister who would notice. Piper was the sister who saw things a little too clearly, and she’d definitely questioned his eager acceptance of the lead role. She knew he was running, but what choice did he have?

  Nothing could happen with Darcy. Even if he was ready for another stab at love, it could never be with her.

  4

  Early the next morning Darcy returned to Abby’s cabin, rapping impatiently on the door. She gulped down another swallow of her macchiato, trying to shake off the fatigue of a sleepless night, hoping the caffeine would give her the boost she so desperately needed. This had to be the sixth—no, the seventh—time she’d tried Abby’s cabin, and each time Abby didn’t answer, her heart had dropped a little more.

  Come on, Abby. Enough is enough.

  It was hardly the first time Abby had missed a meeting or even the first time she’d disappeared for a short while during an undercover assignment. Abby was a bulldog, and when she caught the scent of something, she ran with it—often neglecting to notify others, especially her partner.

  Darcy sighed. She wasn’t technically Abby’s partner, at least not anymore. Hadn’t been for three years.

  She knocked again, louder this time. Where are you?

  “This would work a lot better if you let me in first.”

  Darcy spun around. The woman was young—early twenties, at most—brunette, and wiry.

  “You’re Abby’s roommate?” she guessed.

  “Guilty. I’m Pam.” She stepped around Darcy and slid her key card in the lock. The light flashed green, and the woman stepped inside, flicking on the overhead light.

  Without waiting for an invitation, Darcy followed her in. The beds were made—the right one had a series of dresses flung across it, and the left, a purse she assumed was Abby’s.

  “So . . . what do you want?” Abby’s roommate seemed a little annoyed, but Darcy wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

  “I was just wondering when you saw Abby last. I’m new to the ship, and we arranged to meet last night, but she never showed.”

  “Yesterday morning. I worked until one last night”—she smoothed her hair—“and I’m just getting back. I don’t know”—she looked around the room—“whether Abby’s been here or not.”

  “So . . . have you heard any details about the person that went overboard last night?”

  “Nah, the Bering is pretty tight-lipped about anything out of the ordinary—anything that might reflect badly on the cruise line.” She sat on her dress-covered bed, clearly impatient. “Is that all? I need to get some sleep before my next shift.”

  “Could it have been Abby?”

  “No, I think I would have heard if it was her.”

  “But I’ve searched everywhere for her. Where else could she be?”

  Pam released an exasperated sigh. “Look, I don’t know where Abby is or who went overboard. What’s your deal anyway?”

  “I’m a journalist.”

  “Of course you are.” Pam climbed into bed without moving any of the dresses. “That explains all the questions.”

  “I’m here to cover the new hands-on adventures the Bering’s offering. I set up an interview with Abby for last night—my first of interviewing everyone involved with the new excursions—but she never showed.”

  “Maybe she got a better offer.” Pam grabbed a lotion bottle off the nightstand.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, maybe she met some cute passenger and hooked up.”

  “Oh.” Not Abby.

  “As for who went overboard . . .” Pam squirted the white liquid onto her palm and began working it through her fingers. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Captain said they’d been rescued and taken to the local hospital. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .” She set the lotion back on the nightstand and clicked off the bedside lamp.

  “Right.”

  In the faint glow of the light over the door, Darcy glanced at Abby’s purse on her bed and then to Pam, who’d rolled over with her back to her. Leaning over, Darcy snatched Abby’s purse and tucked it under her arm. “Sorry to bother you.” Pam didn’t stir. “I’ll just see myself out.”

  Reentering her room, Darcy flipped the overhead switch and plopped on the bed, trying to quell the butterflies darting about her belly. She’s probably just stumbled onto a new lead and lost track of time . . . maybe trying to track down whoever fell overboard.

  Taking a deep breath, she dumped the contents of Abby’s purse on the bed and sorted through it. A tube of lip gloss, a couple pens, a handful of blank index cards, contact drops . . . Nothing out of the ordinary. She shoved it all back in the purse and set the canvas bag aside.

  An hour later, Darcy waited for the Bering to lower its gangplank and allow cruise passengers off into the port town of Yancey. She had been up all night but couldn’t even think of sleeping now, and she couldn’t just sit around praying Abby showed. She had to do something.

  With the excursion meeting still several hours away, she headed into Yancey under the guise of reporting on one of the Bering’s port stops. Fortunately, having spent a month there last winter, she could easily come up with a fluff piece to suit Destiny Cruise Line’s publicity team without having to actually put any research into it. Instead, she’d pay a visit to a friend.

  During her time in Yancey, she’d come to love the town—and one family in particular—quite deeply. She’d hoped to return, but she’d envisioned it being under much different circumstances. Foolishly, she’d dreamt it would be at Gage’s invitation, but after five months and still no word from him, she’d obviously misread his signals. Though, she supposed, she was partially to blame.

  She could have called, but she hadn’t wanted to press. Gage needed space, needed time to heal from old wounds that were still very raw. His silence had left her lonely and restless, and very much ready for a change when Abby’s call for assistance had come.

  Darcy hurried up the hill from the marina into town. It looked so different in May than it had in December. The snow was gone, and beautiful red and yellow tulips dotted the planting beds leading up the main walk. She headed straight for the sheriff’s station, fighting the longing to at least duck into the McKennas’ shop. How could she come to Yancey and not see Gage?

  Her gaze fixed on their shop sign in the distance—Last Frontier Adventures scrolled in bold blue letters. Her resolve wavered as a wealth of memories came flooding back—one in particular tugging at her heart: Gage McKenna bent over his son’s grave. Such a strong man, broken by the tragic loss of a child. She’d wanted nothing more than to race to him and shelter him in her arms, but he’d have balked at her sympathy, at her attempts to comfort him. He didn’t want comforting. He wanted restitution.

  So much anger and bitterness in such a tender heart—it broke her’s. If only she had the power to fix things, to help Gage see how much God loved him. But God was the last “person” Gage wanted to discuss, and she was the last person he’d accept comfort from.

  Taken aback by the powerful anguish that thoughts of Gage McKenna still dredged up in her heart, she stepped into the sheriff’s station praying
Deputy Landon Grainger was in.

  “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to go with you?” Piper asked, not relinquishing hold of Gage’s duffel just yet.

  They stood huddled on the front porch of his cabin, his sisters hemming and hawing over what he’d packed or possibly forgotten.

  “Piper, I’m not four. I can handle this.” He tugged his duffel back.

  “Of course you can.” She smiled. “I just thought you might like . . .”

  He cocked his head with a knowing grin. “Someone watching over me?” He slipped the duffel strap over his shoulder.

  “Someone to help.” She crossed her arms, leaning against the porch rail as the sun rose higher in the sky.

  “You will be helping every time we dock in port.” It would only be a day before he’d see them again.

  “He’s a big boy,” Kayden said, hopping onto the rail. “He can handle this.”

  “I know.” Piper nibbled her bottom lip.

  She did know. That was the problem. She saw things, heard things beyond the spoken. Not in any magical sort of way. She could simply read people, knew when they were hurting. She claimed it was a gift from God, but he preferred to view it as an annoyance—especially when it centered on him. Piper knew Darcy had gotten to him, and it was clear she didn’t like his response, his running from his feelings. But there was nothing else to be done. Piper would eventually understand that or she’d at least have to learn to live with it—because, as tantalizing as the prospect might appear during his greatest moments of weakness, nothing would be happening between him and Darcy St. James.

  “Any word on the missing teen?”

  Kayden shook her head. “Cole and Jake are out there with a full team of volunteers, and a swift-water-rescue team from Kodiak arrived early this morning to lend a hand.”

  Gage shook his head, knowing they were in for a long and most likely disappointing day.

  “Are you guys all set?” he asked, shifting the conversation to the upcoming cruise. “Land part of the package ready to go?”

 

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