Alaskan Summer
Page 14
“They’ll get to us when they can.”
She gulped down the panic trying to rise in her throat. “Are we going to be all right?”
He nodded as he shoved the motor far to the right to try to avoid the surf crashing against a nearby rock.
The wind swept the rain over them sideways. Ryan hunched over as if to protect his face. Laurette stayed under what protection the canvas top offered the front seats.
Her feet were numb. She kept her cold hands in the pockets of the float coat. More than once she fingered the tab to pull the cartridge that would blow up the jacket so she would float in the water. Watching the looming rocks and hearing the waves crash against the shore mesmerized her. In her trance she continued to ask for God’s mercy and protection.
❧
Ryan watched Laurette. He knew she was cold and feared hypothermia had started. He felt helpless. Dear God, have You given her to me only to take her away? Please keep her safe. I know if she goes in the water, she will die. Show me how to take care of her. He saw the island looming in their path and tried to steer the heavy boat with the small engine. He kept the radio in a zippered pocket of his mustang suit. He’d turned the volume on high so he would hear it above the whine of the wind and lashing rain.
An hour passed. Laurette sat staring out the side of the boat. His efforts to call to her were snatched by the wind. He didn’t dare leave the motor for a second. The looming rocks threatened them on all sides. At least the waves were not as high. They didn’t continually climb and crash back down. Ryan’s back ached where he tried to brace against the corner of the boat to remain on his feet. The constant movement of the currents made the unsteady deck treacherous.
The radio crackled. He grabbed it out of his pocket. “Ryan Nichols here.”
“It’s Mike, Ryan. Heard your call. Just coming out of Jamestown Bay. I’m on my way. Slow going, but hang on, kids; we’ll be there in less than two hours.”
Ryan looked at Laurette. He didn’t know if it was rain or tears on her cheeks. Probably a mix. “Could you hear?”
She shook her head.
“Mike’s on his way,” he shouted.
She waved at the water, rocks, and surf around them. “Can we hold out until he gets here?” she yelled into the wind.
“All things are possible with God. We’ll let Him navigate for us.” He thought he saw a slight smile curve her lips. “Rette, try to move around a little. You need to keep your circulation going. Stomp your feet.”
“I can’t feel them.” She tried to stand but grabbed the seat when the boat rocked to one side. She fell into the seat by the wheel. “Are you warm?” she shouted at him.
He patted his mustang suit. “That’s what this thing is for. We need to get you one.”
She nodded and laid her head back against the seat.
Ryan alternately watched her and where the boat was drifting. Was she asleep? How advanced was the hypothermia? He longed to hold her, but she was better off under the shelter provided by the canvas top than at the stern with him. Please, Lord, take care of her.
It seemed like an eternity before the shape of the tugboat appeared in the clouds that met the sea.
With great effort Ryan maneuvered his boat toward the tug. He had to move into open water where Mike could get close enough to throw them a line. Mike had brought the tug in on the lee side so the wind did not whip quite as hard.
“Just sit where you are,” Ryan instructed Laurette, who had perked up at the sight of their rescuer.
Mike worked from the deck of the tug and Ryan from his until the ropes were securely holding the small fishing boat.
When the last rope had been secured, Mike called, “Is Laurette all right?”
“Yes,” Ryan replied. He turned to help Laurette stand at the rail. She shivered in his arms. “She’ll need help getting aboard.”
Mike stepped back and returned with a large rope ladder. “Can you guide her up with this?”
Ryan stood behind Rette. “Just reach up and take the ladder. I’ll be right behind you, holding you steady.”
He felt her take a deep breath; then she reached out to grab the rope. Step by step they made it up the ladder to the deck. Mike scooped her into his arms and carried her inside the cabin. He sat her down on a bench. “Get her boots off and rub her feet. I’ll get us headed for Starrigavan,” Mike instructed.
Ryan knelt and pulled off Rette’s soggy boots and socks. He grabbed a towel and started to rub her blue feet.
“Oh, they burn,” Laurette cried as the circulation started to come back.
Ryan spotted a coffeepot on top of the stove. “I’ll heat us some coffee.”
“I’ll do it. You go help Mike. I’ll be okay.”
He smiled, kissed her forehead, and headed out the door.
“She’ll be all right as soon as she gets warm,” Mike told him when Ryan joined him.
Ryan shook his head. “If the boat had broken up and she’d gone in the water, she wouldn’t have survived.”
Mike clapped him on the back. “But it didn’t. You did a fine job of keeping her safe.”
“I didn’t do it alone.” He blinked back the tears that threatened to overflow.
“You had a lot of people praying for you.”
Ryan straightened his back and went to where he could see over the side. His boat rode safely next to the tug.
“We’ll go into the launch at Starrigavan,” Mike told him again. “I radioed Tyler that we’re on our way. He’ll be there with the truck and your boat trailer.”
“What happened to the Coast Guard? I called them hours ago.”
“One of those sightseeing boats hit the rocks on St. Lazeria. The Coast Guard had all personnel out there saving the tourists. Last report on the VHF said only one got hurt. The rest are on their way back to Sitka.” He grinned at Ryan. “As soon as I heard your call, I let them know I would bring you in with the tug. Didn’t want them to leave your boat to break up on the rocks.”
“Thanks. I didn’t think about the boat. I just wanted to get Rette safely back to land.”
“Everything’s under control. Why don’t you go back and sit with her? Did you heat up the coffee?”
“She sent me up here. I’m sure she did, though. You want me to bring you a cup?”
Mike pointed to the thermos cup next to the wheel he used to control the tug. “Got plenty, thanks.”
Laurette sat where he had left her. She had unzipped the jacket and pulled off the cap. He thought her face had more color. “Can you feel your feet?”
“Yes, and I can move my fingers and toes.” She smiled. “No frostbite.”
He saw the damp streaks on her sweatshirt. “But you’re wet.”
“I could use a hot shower right now.”
He sat down beside her. “Tyler will be waiting with the truck and trailer. Would you be willing to stay at my place while we take the boat into the shop? The motors need to be flushed with fresh water as soon as possible to get the salt water out of the system. You could take a shower there. I’ll pick up my car and be back to take you home.”
“Where are we going?” She looked confused.
Ryan explained they were not going into Crescent Harbor. “We’re going into the campground north of Sitka. That’s why Tyler will be there. He’s moved the boat trailer from where we left it. We go right by the mobile home park where I live on our way into town.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “That way you get out of those wet clothes and into a hot shower quicker.”
“Sounds good.” She put her head on his shoulder. “I’m so tired.”
“You worked hard to pray us to safety,” he whispered, pulling her closer.
She sat up. “I didn’t have enough faith. I was scared.”
He looked into her beautiful, gold-flecked brown eyes. “Fear tests our faith. When Jesus told Peter to come out of the boat and walk on the water to Him, he did, but Peter’s fear made him doubt, so he began to sink. Then he asked Jesus
to save him, so Peter did have faith, but it was still weak.”
“You’ve been reading the Gospel of Matthew.”
“It took something very dramatic to convince the disciples Jesus was the Son of God. That story seems real personal to me now,” he said and chuckled. “Rette, you didn’t stop believing or praying, in spite of your fear. And I think I prayed harder because of my fear. God heard your pleas and mine, and we’re headed back to safety.”
Ryan pulled her close. “I could have lost you.”
They looked up as Mike shouted, “We’re coming in.”
Ryan rushed to the wheelhouse.
“I’ll take you in as close as I can. Will you be able to get your trolling motor going again? You’ll need it to get the boat onto the trailer.”
Ryan turned to Laurette, who had followed him. “Better keep praying. We aren’t on land yet.” He looked at her bare feet. “Can you pull those boots back on? We have to go down the ladder to my boat.”
“Look for some dry socks in the cupboard over the bench,” Mike told her.
Ryan climbed back into his boat. He looked up from untying ropes when he heard Laurette come to the rail of the tug. “Can you come down? I’ll come partway up to meet you.”
He watched her climb over the deck rail and put her feet on the rope ladder. He held her a moment longer than necessary after he helped her off the last rung and onto the boat. “You could have stayed on the tug. I could have picked you up in Jamestown Harbor.”
“I want to stay with you.” She clung to him until he had to go back to getting the boat loose.
Free of the tug, he waved to Mike and lowered the trolling motor into the water. It took several pulls on the starter rope, but it roared to life. Ryan guided the boat next to the dock at the launch site.
“Welcome home,” Tyler called. He had the trailer backed down the ramp and ready to go. “Let me give you a hand, Laurette.”
Ryan held the boat against the dock while she climbed out. “Go wait in the truck where you’ll be warm,” he told Rette.
The men maneuvered the boat onto the trailer. After Tyler had pulled it back up the ramp, Ryan took out the plug in back and watched as water gushed out.
“Took on some water, did ya?” Tyler quipped when he came back to help Ryan secure the boat to the trailer.
Moments later, Ryan slid into the cab next to Laurette and pulled her close to him. “Are you warm now?”
She put her head on his chest and murmured, “Yes.”
❧
When they stopped in front of a small mobile home, Laurette sat up.
“The door isn’t locked. The shower is down the hall on the right. You go on in. I’ll get your pack out of the boat so you have dry clothes.” He smiled. “Assuming you rolled and fastened the pack correctly.” He walked her to the door and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.
He returned with her pack, then said, “I’ll be back soon.”
Laurette pulled off her boots and hung the float coat in the porch entryway. Slowly she opened the door. She looked at the small but neat living room with a bookcase dividing it from the kitchen. Against one wall stood a small electric organ. She padded down the hall to the bathroom and started peeling off wet clothes. The shower felt wonderful. She let the hot water cascade down her back and warm her all the way through.
When she pulled a towel off the rack, she spotted a terrycloth robe on the back of the door. She put it on. The sleeves hung over her hands, and the hem almost dragged on the floor. She drank in Ryan’s scent as she wrapped the robe almost twice around her body before tying it. With a towel around her wet hair, she went back to the living room where she had left her pack.
The davenport looked so inviting that she sank down onto it. The pillow at the end felt perfect as she curled up and fell into a deep sleep.
TWENTY
Ryan pulled off his boots and hung his mustang suit on the peg next to Rette’s float coat. He opened the door and reached to turn on the stereo. His hand stopped and so did his heart when he saw Rette. She lay curled up on his davenport sound asleep. He tiptoed close to her. The towel around her head had come off, leaving her damp hair loose to fall into ringlets. Her bare feet peeked out of his terrycloth robe. He moved quietly to the spare bedroom and brought back a blanket to spread over the sleeping girl. He watched her breathe and thanked God she had survived.
Finally, he backed away from her and walked softly down the hall. When he went into the bathroom, he stumbled over her stack of wet clothes. He put them in a plastic bag before taking a shower.
He stood in the hot water trying to wash away some of the exhaustion. It had been a long day.
Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, Ryan went back to check on Laurette. She stirred in her sleep. The nervous flutter in his stomach was not from hunger.
When Rette opened her eyes, he dropped to his knees beside the davenport. Overwhelming emotion took his voice away. He gently kissed her lips. “How do you feel?” he whispered.
She stretched and sat up, swinging her feet to the floor beside him. “I’m finally warm. How long did I sleep?”
He glanced at his watch. “Little over an hour.”
“I should let Ruth know where I am.”
“The radio has been busy. Everyone who listened during the storm knows we are back safe in Sitka. Mike and John have kept in contact, and I think John is with Ruth now. When you feel up to it, we’ll go see her.”
Laurette looked up at him. He thought he could drown in her light brown eyes. He took her hands. “Rette, I could have lost you. I’ve never prayed so hard in my life.” His voice shook. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”
He watched a tear run down her cheek.
He pulled her to her feet. She’s so small and yet so strong, he thought. He kissed the tear away. “I have nothing to offer you. I don’t even have a steady job, but I want to marry you.”
Laurette put her arms around his neck and laid her head against his chest. “I love you, too.”
He ran his hands through her unruly hair. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
She smiled and nodded before his lips came down on hers. An eternity later Ryan stepped back, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Do you think you could live in this place until I can find a better job?”
“I don’t care where I live as long as I’m with you.”
Laurette wiggled her bare feet and looked at the bulky robe tied around her. She giggled. “This is not the romantic setting I dreamed of when I promised to marry the man I love.”
“As long as I’m in that picture, I don’t care how you look.” He took her fluttering hands.
“I’d still like to get dressed.”
He picked up her pack on the floor. “I hope you have dry clothes. I don’t think anything of mine would fit any better than that robe.”
❧
Laurette opened the pack in the bathroom. She pulled out yesterday’s jeans and sweatshirt and tried to shake the sand into the wastebasket instead of on the floor. Married. I’m going to get married. The thrill that zinged through her blotted out the fact she was putting on dirty clothes to greet her beloved. If he loves me like this, he will always love me, she thought, brushing out her hair.
She carried her hiking boots back to the living room, but she had pulled socks over her bare feet. Ryan stood at the stove in the kitchen. Soft music played on the stereo. “You cook, too?” she asked.
“Soup out of a can. Are you hungry?”
“Yes. I guess it isn’t true that you can live on love alone.”
“If I don’t find a better job, we may have to try.”
She put her face against his flannel-clad back. “I’ve got my summer wages saved.”
He turned to pull her into his embrace. “God will take care of us.”
He sat in his big chair and she curled up on the davenport with their bowls of soup.
“I’ll look for a job, too,” she told him. “I don’t
think a biology degree is going to help much, but I can wait on tables.”
“You have a job until October, and mine will last until November.”
“How about a Christmas wedding?”
“We’ll have lots of time for a honeymoon,” he quipped.
“You can play for tips to keep us in food,” she said as she laughed. “We’ll find a way.” She took his bowl and headed for the kitchen sink.
“Leave the dishes. I should get you home before John and Mike come looking for you.”
The storm had moved on, but the rain still fell. Laurette moved as close as she could to Ryan in the little Volkswagen. Her heart sang with joy. Thank You, thank You, Lord, she prayed silently. You’ve sent me a perfect husband.
❧
When they entered the house, Ruth called out, “Is that you, Laurette? We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Sorry, I fell asleep and didn’t come right home.”
Ruth looked puzzled. Maybe she forgot I went camping, Rette thought.
“I’m going to go live with Esther.” Her friend’s face was wreathed in smiles.
Laurette looked at John and saw his pained expression. “You’re going to live where Esther used to live, Mother,” he corrected. He motioned Ryan and Rette to a seat on the davenport. “I need to explain,” he said. “I put Mother’s name on the list to get a room at the Pioneer Home after her visit to the Pioneer Bar.”
“When did I ever go to a bar?” Ruth protested.
“Just joking, Mother,” he continued. “A room has become available, and Mother has decided it’s time she went there.” He took his mother’s hand and sat on the arm of her chair. “She knew Aunt Esther was happy living at the Pioneer Home. And she knows many people who live there now.”
Laurette looked at Ryan, who took her hand. “That’s a good idea, John. How soon will you want me to move?”
“Oh, I want you to stay here,” Ruth interjected. “Won’t you live here and take care of my house?”
Confused, Laurette looked from John to Ruth.
“What Mother means is she wants to be able to come home.” He put his hand up. “Not to stay but to visit. This has been her home for fifty years, and,” he added, smiling, “this is the only way she’s willing to leave it.”