Chapter Three
By the time Cameron traversed the murky water and approached Esme on her board minutes later, the pregnant woman was near exhaustion. The top half of her body floated on a piece of Brodie’s boat as she struggled to keep her unconscious husband’s head above water.
“Esme,” Cameron called as she approached.
Esme’s usually smiling eyes focused on Cameron, dull and frightened. “Thank God.” Tears filled the woman’s voice. “I can’t wake him up and I can’t get him out.”
Cameron followed her friend’s gaze. Pieces of Brodie’s sinking boat kept his lower half pinned. If they didn’t get him out soon, he’d go down with his fishing vessel. Though many captains believed sinking to be a courageous way to die, she couldn’t see Brodie agreeing. Not with an adoring wife and three girls waiting on him. From her vantage point atop her board, Cameron searched the surrounding water. On her own, she couldn’t get Brodie out, and Esme was in no condition to help. This far out, with all the commotion in the water and on the beach, no one would hear her if she called for help. The only option was to go back to shore and get someone to return with her. As she looked at Esme struggling to keep both her and her husband above water, Cameron knew she couldn’t leave the two of them. To have any chance of saving Brodie, Cameron must get in the water and hold his head while Esme went for help. At the prospect of submerging in the water, chills dotted Cameron’s skin and a cold sweat slicked her forehead. The normally clear blue water frightened her enough. Today oil and gas made the water murky.
Dragging in a deep breath, Cameron pasted a smile on her face then looked at her friend. “I need you to take my board and go get help.”
The words hadn’t even left Cameron’s mouth before Esme shook her head. “I can’t let go. He’ll go under. He won’t wake up. He—”
“Esme.” Cameron crouched on her knees on the board. “I’ll keep him above water. I won’t let him go under. But I can’t get him out on my own. I need you to—”
“I’ll help you. Whatever you need. I’ll follow directions. I’ll—”
“Then get on my board and go get help. You need to get out of the water. You and the baby need to rest.” Her friend’s narrowed gaze told Cameron she hadn’t wholly convinced the other woman, so Cameron played dirty. “Vea’s on the beach. She wants her mother. She’s calling for you, Es.”
Esme’s warm brown eyes filled with tears. “She’s okay? I wanted to go to her, but…”
But it would mean leaving her husband to certain death—a heartbreaking decision to make.
“Go to her now. I’ve got Brodie.” Cameron lay on her stomach, then shifted to lower herself into the ocean. As the cool water covered her ankles, she stiffened. Taking another deep breath, pulling in the scents of salt air and motor oil, she eased herself off the board, submerging her body up to her neck. Fear kicked in her chest, causing her limbs to shake. She hated water, but she loved her friends. Swimming to Esme’s side, she positioned the board by her friend, then took her place, holding Brodie’s head. This close to him, she could see why he was unconscious. An open gash covered the back of his head, blood poured from the wound to the water, then disappeared.
“Are you… Are you sure you—”
“Esme,” Cameron bit out, trying her best to keep her shit together. “I need you to get on that board and go get help. And I need you to do it now.”
The other woman’s eyes widened. Cameron never lost her cool. The character trait came in useful when delivering babies and working with scared mothers. Right now, literally neck-deep in her worst nightmare, with one of her dearest friends unconscious in her arms, Cameron’s stores of patience and understanding were empty.
“Go,” she ordered Esme.
With considerable effort, Esme hauled herself onto the board.
“I have him,” Cameron assured the other woman when she looked back. “Go.”
Nodding, Esme struck out for the beach. Fighting back tears, Cameron watched the other woman grow smaller. Something bumped Cameron’s leg. Biting back a cry, she focused on Brodie’s face.
“You’re so going to owe me when I get you out of here,” she murmured to her friend’s near lifeless body.
Rationally, Cameron knew only minutes had passed between the time Esme paddled away from her and when Edmund and Pauler reached where she floated with Brodie. But terror had a way of stretching minutes until they seemed like hours. Days. Years.
“Doc, how are you holding up?” Edmund called as he approached.
“I’m fine. He’s mostly supported. I—”
Edmund raised a brow. “I meant the water.”
Cam’s fear of the water was widely known and not understood on the island.
She tried to smile. “I’d like to get out as soon as possible.”
“I’ll get him.” Pauler made a move to get off his kayak and into the water.
She shook her head. “Get him out. His legs are pinned. I’ll be fine. Just get him.” She might’ve lied. Whether she would be fine was a matter of severe debate. But what wasn’t up for debate was the fact that if they didn’t free Brodie, he’d die. She could live with fear. She couldn’t live with that fear costing her friend his life.
Edmund and Pauler tethered their kayaks, then entered the water. The look the two men shared alerted Cameron that they were dealing with more than Brodie’s leg simply being pinned.
Pauler swam to her. “You need to see this.” Taking her place on the floating debris, he took hold of Brodie’s upper half.
No doubt whatever Pauler thought she needed to see, she most definitely didn’t want to see. As fishermen, the brothers would have much more experience with breaking boats apart or moving heavy pieces of wood. They only needed Cameron’s help if they’d discovered a medical problem.
Edmund’s face was sober when she reached him. He nodded toward where a large piece of metal smashed Brodie’s legs between boat and plane. The men had managed to pull the debris back slightly, revealing a mangled mess of bone, skin, and muscle. The lower part of Brodie’s left leg no longer resembled any part of a human. No distinction remained between foot, ankle, or calf. Bile rose in Cameron’s throat. Her area of expertise was gynecology. Although she sometimes assisted the surgeons when they needed an extra hand in foreign countries, she’d never seen anything like this.
“You’ve called the doctors?” When she’d deposited Vea on the beach, she’d given Edmund instructions to use the island’s satellite phone to call in an emergency relief team of doctors like the one she’d worked with in her old life.
He nodded. “They said they had a team available and would send them immediately.”
Small blessings. If they managed to free Brodie from his boat and rescue him from the water, he would need all the help he could get. Closing her eyes, she again took in a deep breath. As she blew the air from her lungs through her mouth, calm washed over her. She opened her eyes and met the worried gazes of her friend. “I don’t think we can save his leg.” She cleared the emotion from her voice. Brodie didn’t have time for her emotions. Her friend needed her clear, level thinking. “The best we can do is get him out of this damn water and stop the blood loss until the doctors can get here.”
Edmund paled at her words. “And do what?”