She was beyond where the waves were breaking. This was where surfers would usually gather, sitting on their boards as they watched the hump of waves, picking and choosing which to ride into shore.
She didn’t know how to bodysurf, though. It was all she could do to keep her head up as the waves picked her up and rolled toward the beach without her.
Treading water, she saw nothing, only what looked like a very long swim to shore. She thought she might be on the far side of the current that had carried her out. A crosscurrent was drifting her farther toward the headland, away from where she’d left Lily on the beach.
Lily. She tried not to cry. Lily was safe, she reminded herself.
This was such a stupid mess to be in. She had picked a fight with Rico then walked away to sulk. Why? What did she have to complain about? He treated her like a queen. No one she knew took tropical vacations and rode elephants and slept in five-star oceanfront villas with butler service to the beach.
I’m sorry, baby, she said silently as she began to crawl her arms over her head, aiming for the headland that was a lot farther than she’d ever swum in her life. A few laps in a pool were her limit. Just enough to get her safety badge when she was ten. I’m sorry, Rico. Please, Gramps, if you can hear me, I need help.
* * *
Rico absconded with a Jet Ski, scaring an adolescent boy into giving it up with whatever expression was on his face. The only words he’d had in him had been a grated, “My wife.”
Her coral wrap had been his beacon as he raced to the family with the Jet Skis. Now it was gone.
He ran the Jet Ski along the edge of the riptide, gaze trying to penetrate the cloudy water, searching for a glint of color, of red hair, terrified he’d find her in it and terrified he wouldn’t.
He sped out to where the head of the current mushroomed beyond the surf zone, dissipating in a final cloud of sand pulled from the beach. Still nothing.
Dimly he noted two surfers and a lifeguard from the resort joining his search, zigzagging through the surf.
He had to find her. Had to.
In a burst of speed, he started down the far side of the rip and had to fight the Jet Ski to get back toward the current. Another one, not as strong, ran parallel to the beach. He realized she might have been drawn toward the headland. It was a huge stretch of water to get there.
Despair began to sink its claws into him.
Bill, help us out, he silently begged her grandfather’s spirit.
A glint above the water caught his attention. A drone?
He looked toward the beach and saw the operator waving him toward the headland.
Using the drone as a beacon, he gunned the Jet Ski that direction, searched the chop of waves. Please, please, please.
A slender arm slowly came out of the water. It windmilled in a tired backstroke, slapping wearily on reentry.
Swearing, he raced toward her. The resignation in her eyes as she spotted him told him how close she’d been to giving up. He got near enough she put a hand on the machine, but he had to turn it off and get in the water with her to get her onto it, she was that weak.
She sat in front of him, trembling and coughing, breaths panting and heart hammering through her back into his own slamming in his chest. She hunched weakly while he reached to start the Jet Ski again. He shifted her slightly so he could hold on to her and steered it back to shore.
He was shaking. Barely processing anything other than that he had to get them to dry land.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he got to the small dock where the startled family had gathered with damned near every living soul in Thailand.
The crowd gave them a round of applause. The nanny stood with Lily on her hip, eyes wide with horror at the barely averted catastrophe.
“Oh, Lily,” Poppy sobbed, and hugged her daughter, but Lily squirmed at her mother’s wet embrace.
A lifeguard came to check on Poppy.
“Have a hot shower. You’ll be in shock. Lie down and stay warm. Drink lots of water to flush the seawater you drank.”
Rico nodded and took her into their villa, bringing her straight into the shower and starting it, peeling off their wet clothes as they stood under the spray.
* * *