Then Came You

by Susan May Warren

  She pulled the pom-pom back and placed her palm on his chest, looked up at him. “You think you’d stay?”

  “I’m here right now,” he answered. He ran his thumb over the cashmere of her sweater sleeve. He wasn’t ready to talk about leaving. What he wanted to do was drive Vivie over to Honeymoon Bluff and watch the sun set. Maybe work a little on that relaxation.

  But yes. A guy could get used to living like this.

  Chapter 13

  Boone let the sunshine warm his soul as he stood outside Wild Harbor five days later. Apparently, Vivien had decided that he needed a private kayak lesson on an inland lake.

  And, with nine rehearsals behind him, he could use a break. All he wanted was to have a good time. As much as he’d enjoyed sitting with her in church again, he’d been looking forward to this opportunity to go on a real date. Zero responsibility. No cases to investigate. No lines to memorize. No book to read. No expectations.

  Just be. In the moment.

  Vivien had dressed down for the day, which meant she looked like an All-American girl who’d stepped out of the pages of an REI catalog. She wore pink camo cargo shorts and a zip-up hoodie over her quick-dry tank. The wilderness had never looked so stylish, yet practical.

  Casper handed him the life jackets and truck keys. “You’re heading to Hungry Jack Lake?”

  “That’s what I’m told.”

  Vivien snugged down the tether on the kayaks. “Yes, we are. And I’m driving.”

  Boone crossed his arms. “Only if you promise to actually cease all forward motion when you reach the red octagonal signs.” He drew the shape for her in the air with his fingertips.

  She smiled. “I stop.”

  Right. “You pause.” He gripped the keys in his hand over the top of her open palm.

  “Fine.”

  He dropped the keys into her hand.

  “Good luck.” Casper smacked him on the back then turned to Vivien. “No four-wheeling in the Evergreen truck.”

  “Thanks for letting us borrow it. And, really, that was only that one time.”

  “Twice. And don’t forget—the second time, Darek and I had to come pull you out.”

  Vivien cut him a look and crossed her arms. “Well, the road should have been marked as closed.”

  Casper turned back to Boone. “Keep her between the lines.”

  Oh, great. “Thanks. I’ll see what I can do.”

  They finished stowing the gear and climbed into the truck Casper had loaned them. Vivien changed the radio dial to a local station with country hits from the 1990s.

  “Country, huh? I’m rubbing off on you.”

  “You should know by now that I don’t only sing show tunes. I should have brought my new Benjamin King CD, though.”

  By the time they reached Hungry Jack Lake, forty minutes away, he’d determined the station was actually running on a fifteen-minute loop. Because they’d had friends in low places, he’d been a brand new man, and determined forever was as far as he’d go. Three times.

  Vivien parked the truck but made no move to exit. She sat, staring out the front windshield, and took a deep breath.

  Boone removed his seatbelt and turned toward her. “I ran into a dead end on Sabrina. I can’t tie her to the deliveries. Circumstantially, she’s somewhat local and has a highly suspect cash flow. But I’ve been in contact with a detective in New York City. He’s working a high-profile case right now, but when he has a free moment, he’s going to look into a few questions I had on Joslyn, Danielle, and that guy.” That guy. He didn’t even want to say Ravil’s name. “Which reminds me—did you know that Joslyn knew Danielle from a French drama school?” There went his plans for a day to relax.

  She shook her head. “I thought we weren’t going to talk shop.” She squeezed his arm.

  Oops. “Right.”

  “Are you ever off duty?”

  Well, maybe not. He shrugged. “Okay. Right. I am today.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  The sunshine and warm weather had brought other kayakers to the lake. They explored the lake for several hours before climbing onto shore and stopping at an unclaimed campsite. He pulled out the cooler with the lunches Vivien had packed and she grabbed the blanket.

  She pointed to a spot beneath the birch trees. “That looks perfect.” She walked over and spread the blanket on the ground.

  He sat down on the blanket next to her and she popped open the cooler, handed him a sandwich.

  “I hope you like turkey on wheat.”

  “No marshmallow-fluff bread?”

  “Nope.”

  He said grace and then took a bite. The flavors mingled on his tongue. Turkey, provolone, lettuce, tomato…and something else. “What is this sauce?”

  “It’s a tarragon and avocado dressing.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “How’s it going with your counselor?”

  “Good. I saw her this morning. My blood pressure is down. I’ve lost five pounds since I got here.”

  “Wow. Impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  They lingered over lunch, an orchestra of bird song filling the air. Even after the food was gone, he wasn’t ready to go.

  He shifted his position, sitting back against the nearest tree to watch the other kayakers. She nestled herself up against him.

  “So, here’s a question for you…how’d you get the name ‘Boone’?” She looked up at him, the blue of the sky reflected in her eyes.

  “My first name is Daniel.” He let his fingers slide through a lock of hair that had fallen forward on her shoulder.

  “Daniel?” Her eyes swept over him, as if surmising whether or not Daniel suited him. She nodded. “So, like, Daniel Boone?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I guess. My dad started calling me Boone at a young age. It stuck.”

  He savored the weight of Vivien pressed up against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. Closed his eyes and breathed in her jasmine scent.

  A man could live a lifetime like this.

  “Viv…what if I could stay longer? In Deep Haven?”

  “Help!” A frantic cry from the lake cut through the forest. “Help!”

  Vivien bolted upright, freeing Boone to jump to his feet and run toward the voice. Vivien’s footsteps kept pace right behind him.

  “Help!” A woman in her mid-forties stood near the shoreline, wading out into the water toward an inverted kayak while looking back toward a young child crying on the shore. Someone was trapped under the kayak. Boone grabbed the sobbing child, a little boy, and passed him off to Vivien. “Wait here. Call 911.”

  He plowed into the lake, grabbed the woman by her forearm. She fought his grip, her pleas turning into frantic shrieks. The kayak was adrift and Boone couldn’t see anyone in the water. “Please, my daughter. She was—she was right behind me.”

  She freed herself and began crashing though the water, and Boone knew they’d have two drownings if he didn’t stop her.

  “Let me get her.” He ran after her, lunged for her shirt, and hauled her backward toward the shoreline.

  “No, please.” Her body heaved with sobs. “I think she had a seizure.” She pulled against him, breaking free.

  The wails of the child on shore tore into him. “Go to shore. Let me get her.”

  Vivien came up behind him carrying the child, whose panicked cries refocused the woman’s attention. The child clawed for his mother.

  Boone sucked in a breath and dove in. Let his hard strokes take him to the kayak.

  He reached the hull and dropped under, feeling his way. The girl, a teen based on her size, was still locked into the kayak somehow.

  Come on. He tugged at her limp body. Her life jacket was pulling against him, challenging his ability to wrestle her free.

  His own body was starting to numb. Even at the end of summer, the water was barely sixty degrees and the cold robbed him of energy. Please!

  And then he heard a splash. Saw from his peripheral vision something—some
one.

  Oh no.

  And, no, he couldn’t just have an everyday, ordinary date. Because just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, Vivien dove into the water.

  The mother was still screaming from the shore, her cries anguished, dire. The dark, cold water would be all their graves if he didn’t get the girl free. Please don’t let her die, Lord.

  Except, as fatigue set in, Vivien popped up next to him.

  “You pull her out toward you, I’ll pull the kayak in the opposite direction.” She disappeared under the water and he felt the body loosen from the pressure of the kayak bearing down on the flotation device. He pulled the girl free, the life jacket easily bringing her to the surface.

  She wasn’t breathing. He held her head above the water. Tried to give her a breath as best he could before wrapping an arm under the girl and swimming toward shore.

  Come on, Vivie. She hadn’t resurfaced and he tried to ease the grip of fear in his chest, because he couldn’t wait.

  Then he heard Vivien’s strong strokes. She latched on to the other side of the teen’s life jacket and began swimming back to shore with him.

  When their toes hit the bottom, Vivien moved to the girl’s feet and helped carry her to the grass.

  “Oh, Tasha.” The mom sobbed, clinging to her other child, trying to cover the boy’s face.

  Boone dropped to the ground, adrenaline fueling his cold muscles. “She’s still not breathing.”

  Vivien pressed her fingers to the girl’s carotid artery. “No pulse.”

  And Boone was back in Margaret Vincent’s kitchen. The floor covered with blood. Frantically trying to breathe life into her.

  He snapped back at the sound of Vivien unclipping the girl’s life jacket. Together, they carefully removed it from her body, positioning her flat on the ground.

  Boone locked out his arms and began chest compressions, counting out loud until he reached thirty and then giving her two breaths.

  Vivien shook her head. No pulse.

  He continued chest compressions, cycling with breaths. Don’t let her die.

  “Tasha, can you hear me? Tasha?” Vivien began rubbing the girl’s arms, moving around to her bare legs. “Do you have a blanket? A coat? Anything we can cover her with?”

  The woman shook her head.

  Vivien jumped to her feet, ran down the trail. She disappeared while Boone continued compressions and breaths. She returned moments later with their picnic blanket, covering as much of Tasha’s body as she could without interfering with CPR. If there was a bright side, the girl wore only a tank top and shorts, leaving her in minimal wet clothing.

  Tasha’s mom sat on the ground, rocking her child, her lips moving, the words barely audible prayers. “Lord, you go before me and are with me. You will never leave me nor forsake me. I will not be afraid. I will not be discouraged.”

  The sound of it was nearly more than he could take. Please, Lord. Don’t let her die.

  “Did you get through to anyone?” His eyes connected with Vivie’s.

  “Yes. I spoke with Sabine Hueston in dispatch and she said they’d activate the CRT.”

  “They don’t even have a full team.”

  “They have enough. They’re already in the air for training. They’ll be here.”

  Only, how long would that take? Because he wasn’t sure how long they had.

  Not quitting. No one—not a teenager or an elderly woman—would die on his watch. Not again.

  “Do you want to switch?” Vivien reached out, placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m trained.”

  “No. I’ve got this.” He looked up at her. “For now.”

  She gave him a nod and after several more cycles, he let her take over for a few minutes before diving back in again. Alternating with her. Unwilling to give up. And Vivien kept talking to the girl in her calm, sing-song voice like she saved lives every day.

  Everything’s going to be okay.

  He wasn’t sure which gave him more relief fifteen minutes later, though. The twitch of his patient’s hands or the dull thud of helicopter rotors cutting through the roar in his ears. It bolstered their efforts to continue CPR while the Bell set down in the field near the boat launch.

  Then their miracle showed up. Tasha started coughing. Boone turned her to her side, let her vomit water while Vivien took her pulse, looked to Boone, and mouthed the word, “Weak.”

  Weak, but there. Tasha’s eyes closed and Vivien kept a watchful eye on her.

  “Tasha.” Her mom fell to the ground nearby. “Oh, please, God. Please.”

  Moments later, the team approached, gear in hand. The first, a big man with dark brown hair, looked like he was going to be ill. Sweat beaded on the brows of his pasty-white face. Boone recognized the second medic as Ronnie.

  He looked at the man’s name tag. Rhino Johnson. “You okay?” Boone asked.

  “Yeah. Sure.” Rhino began assessing the patient’s vitals and securing her airway. “Just not so great with flying, I guess.” He looked up at Ronnie. “Low respiration rate.”

  He placed a bag valve mask over Tasha’s mouth and nose, tilted her head, and began rescue breaths with it.

  Ronnie moved with precision as she started an IV. “Be careful not to jostle her.” She looked up to Boone. “How long was she under water?”

  Boone turned to the mom, then to Vivien. “Four? Five minutes total?” Vivien nodded. “Her mom said she suffers seizures.”

  “Okay.” Ronnie removed the picnic blanket, and covered Tasha in an emergency blanket. “Did you see her go under?”

  “No. No one did. Her mom turned around and realized she was under. Called for help and we heard her. It was a struggle to get her to the surface.”

  “Was she alone in the kayak?”

  “Yes.”

  “No rocks or likely spinal injuries?” Ronnie moved her hands over Tasha’s body.

  “Correct.”

  “Let’s move her.” Ronnie looked to Rhino, who responded to her count, helping to gently set Tasha on the cot Ronnie had brought. She tucked the blanket around her.

  “How long were you doing CPR?”

  “About eighteen minutes total. Vivien helped.”

  While Rhino finished packing up the gear, Ronnie stepped aside to Tasha’s mom. “We’re heading to Children’s Hospital in Minneapolis. They have an excellent pediatric trauma center.”

  The woman swallowed, muffled a sob, and nodded. “Is she—is she going to be okay?” She choked on another sob and covered her face with her hand. The child in her arms began to wail again.

  Ronnie reached out, put a hand on her shoulder. “The lake is cold and that’s a good thing, actually—and she had excellent care from bystanders.” She gestured to Boone and Vivien. “They’re both professionally trained. She’s in the best care possible, okay? And we’ll be taking care of her the entire flight.”

  The woman nodded, her barely audible thank-you acknowledged by Ronnie. “Of course.”

  “We’re ready to move.” Rhino stood next to the cot.

  Ronnie gave Boone and Vivien a nod, then turned to help carry Tasha to the waiting helicopter. Within moments, they were lifting off, the heavy beat of the blades fading away.

  Boone turned to Tasha’s mom. “Do you have someone that can come get you? Drive you to Minneapolis…ma’am?” He didn’t even know her name.

  “Laurie.” The woman nodded. “My sister is on her way. I called her when the helicopter got here.” She wiped the tears from her red face, now puffy from crying. “Thank you for everything you did.”

  “Of course.” Vivien gave her a squeeze. “Why don’t we wait with you?”

  “She should be here any minute. She was just around the lake at the Hungry Jack Lodge.” Laurie hoisted her son higher on her hip and wiped her nose.

  Vivien and Boone waited with Laurie and her son, Jacob, until they had been safely tucked into her sister’s Tahoe, heading for Minneapolis. They wandered back to their picnic spot, the damp picnic
blanket tucked under Boone’s arm, and shook the ants off the cooler before hauling it to the truck.

  “You saved that girl,” Vivien said.

  “We saved that girl.” Boone placed the cooler in the truck. “She may have a long road to recovery, though.”

  “Still. Wow.” Her hands had the slightest shake, like the adrenaline was burning off.

  “I thought you were a little crazy. Thought for sure you’d lost your mind when you jumped in behind me. And then, you disappeared under water. Got her free of the kayak’s weight.” He frowned. “You didn’t listen to me, though. I told you to wait there.”

  She swallowed.

  “You could have drowned out there.”

  “I didn’t.” She gave him a hesitant smile. “And I knew you needed me.”

  He nodded. “I did.” I do. I do need you. The words caught in his throat. Because he only had two and a half more weeks in Deep Haven. And then he’d be returning to his everyday life.

  Unless he really was going to stay.

  He pulled towels from the truck as their adrenaline wore off, their wet clothes turning frigid. He wrapped a towel around Vivien and grabbed the second one for himself.

  She stepped close to him and wove her arms around him. “I knew you wouldn’t stop until you got her loose. And I also knew how cold that water was. And, I’m trained for water rescue.” She smiled. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

  “No, you’re not just a pretty face.” He held her tight and felt her tremble in his arms. “Cold?”

  “Yeah. I guess. And maybe…overwhelmed. I’ve never done anything like that before. Even though I’m trained, I’ve never had to actually use those skills. It feels…good.”

  He looked at her and felt something break free inside. The woman left him completely undone, a fact that should probably trouble a man trying to relax. Except, it didn’t.

  His life was totally out of control.

  And it had never felt so right.

  Vivien could admit that her heart and soul had latched on to the joy that came with saving a life. The message Ronnie had passed on from Tasha’s mom. Healing would take time, but they were hopeful. It had made it the kind of week that caused a girl to believe that maybe, yes, maybe she could be more than the sum of her past failures. More than the broken legacy of her family.