Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins

Chapter 26

Sam’s arms brought Allie comfort, but only for a moment. When they pulled apart, that terror was back. That fear of the unknown, the cold dread that penetrated her clothes and skin far deeper than the rain beating down on them ever could.

She hated herself, hated her big mouth and harsh words, her clumsiness. How could she have hurt her baby so? And what would she do if Daria had come to harm because of her?

All around her, people were teeming, searching, calling out. In the distance, in either direction, she could see the sweeping lights slicing through the rain. As far as the other end of the bay, tiny dots of light picked out the dock where she and Daria had boarded Sam’s boat. On the other side, upon the rocks that formed the eastern tip of the half moon, people were clambering, braving the foaming surf that slammed relentlessly against the cliff face towering above.

And before her, nothing but water. As if answering a siren call, she began walking towards it, into it, past her knees and then her thighs, trying to peer into the obscure blackness. She was no swimmer, and had always had a not-so-secret dread of being in past her chest, but dammit—

“Allie, no!” Sam cried after her, lifting a hand to stop her. He rushed into the water, right up to her. “You can’t—”

“I have to.”

Another shout made them both turn towards the shore. It was Charlie. He cupped his hands and yelled, “Sam! A kayak’s gone!”

Allie almost collapsed, would have, if it hadn’t been for Sam’s steadying hand. Her tears came anew, the only thing hot on this chilly night.

Charlie stormed into the water, raising his knees high against the waves that pushed back. His voice was raspy from shouting, but his face was set with determination. “Coast Guard is on their way.”

“We can’t wait,” Sam said.

“I know.” He waved his arm in an arc. “That’s the route we usually take. The one she knows. That buoy over there, that’s their limit. She’s been taught never to cross it.”

Sam nodded, but argued, “Tide’s pulling that way. I can feel the current on my legs. She wouldn’t be able to manage against it, not one girl in a two-man kayak.”

“Can’t you take one of the boats out?” Allie asked.

“She’d be too low in the water. The risk of running her over….”

She moaned, covering her mouth to keep her sobs inside. Once again, Sam’s arms were around her. “I’ll bring her back, love,” he said softly.

She believed him because she needed to.

She watched as the two men swiveled, and of one accord looked in the direction of the rocks closing off the half moon. There was little else to be said. They clasped hands briefly. “Mama D’Leau protect you,” Charlie blessed him, and they plunged below the waves like a pair of dolphins.

Allie stood in the water, feeling it slap against her throat and chin. The current wrapped itself around her ankles and her waist flirtatiously, seductively. She tried to dispel the eerie thoughts of what was going on beneath those waves, what lurked below. What if there were monsters? Too scared to take another step, lest the ocean bottom give way and she found herself floundering. Defeated, she returned to the shore, dripping and cold.

The two dark shapes in the water moved apart, covering maximum space. Allie wondered how they could even see anything out there. She began to pray, first silently and then out loud, calling down the help of all of the gods in the heavens and upon the Earth. She didn’t care who, ranked no deity upon any other. She just wanted one of them to help.

There was a shout, the blast of a whistle, and she jerked her head towards the sound. At the very tip of the crescent, someone was poised on a high spot upon the rocks, pointing a flashlight down onto the crags that peeked up from the water. She could barely make out the shape of a kayak, listing on its side with its rear end pointing skyward.

She heard herself scream as she took off, running parallel to the sea, twisting her head around to see whether the two men had heard the alarm.

They had, and in unison, they turned in the direction of the black silhouette out there, two hundred yards away from safe ground.

“It’s okay, Miss,” a guard said softly to her, stepping in beside her, so close she could feel his warmth. She willed herself not to slump against him. “Mr. Sam and Mr. Charlie will get her.”

Let it be so, Allie prayed. They stopped at the edge of the ridge, unable to go any farther.

The stingy moonlight allowed her to see little more than movement. Was that the shape of a child? In moments the figures in the water turned again and began heading to the shore. Allie made to race into the water again, but the guard held her back. “Miss, no. Current running high tonight.” He added with a weak joke, “We don’t want to have to go in for you, too.”

So she stayed there, straining to see. Her vision cleared, and there he was before her eyes, Sam making hard, clean strokes, with her daughter—their daughter—clinging to his back. Well away from them, Charlie followed, towing the damaged kayak.

When they were in water shallow enough to stand, Allie ran to them. Sam had taken Daria into his arms, holding her close to his chest. She was dressed in her nightgown, soaked and shivering, her hair slicked to her face, her eyes black in the darkness of the night and wide with shock.

The guard who had befriended Allie stripped off his shirt and wrapped it around Daria’s shoulders, and Allie nodded to him in gratitude.

She fell upon her daughter, sobbing shamelessly. “Baby, you okay?”

Daria looked up into her father’s face and then nodded. “Yeah. Daddy got me.”

A smile of surprise cracked through the tension on Sam’s face as he and Allie exchanged glances. ‘Sam’ had been replaced by ‘Daddy’. It was the second miracle of the night.

Charlie arrived, and volunteers ran in to relieve him of the kayak, dragging it away onto the sand. He approached Sam and the men exchanged looks that spoke volumes. “You okay, little Scallywag?” he asked Daria gently.

She nodded, her face still pressed against her father’s chest.

“Ten demerits for your piss-poor paddling technique,” he said, but he kissed her hair and hugged her hard.

“Sorry, Uncle Charlie,” she said contritely. Then she added with spirit, “But I would have cleared the rocks if it wasn’t for that stupid tide!”