Page 3 of The Lighthouse Keeper and the Mermaid
At first thought, that might seem like the correct solution, but she could tell the current here was heading north with ferocity and no man could fight the sea’s pull no matter how hard he wanted to stay by the ship. Even if one had tried to hold onto the mast, she highly doubted the waves wouldn’t have pried him off in one or two hits, strong as they were tonight.
“The current will take them this way,” she said, expecting arguments, but to her surprise, neither man said a word, the first only giving her a stern nod of acknowledgment.
It was painfully long until they saw the next man—so long she wondered if they doubted her—but finally she called, “There!”
He was further out toward the sea and the wind fought her with every stroke. She hated how exhausted she already was by the time they made it to him. It wasn’t reassuring when there were still so many men left to find.
The first man dragged out their new straggler—a red-haired boy who looked no older than fifteen and who appeared exhausted beyond belief. The relief on his face was as palpable as hisexhaustion, and after a breathless thanks, he collapsed on the deck. Only his chest heaving up and down let her know he was still alive, for otherwise he was as motionless as a corpse.
The first man looked at her for a moment before nodding. “You clearly know what you’re doing,” he said. “Then we follow the current?”
She nodded, already hating her next words. “Do you know how to row? I need a rest.”
He nodded, quickly moving to take over. She hated letting go of the oars, hated losing control—for that was what it felt like to her—but she would not allow her pride to ruin a rescue mission. She would not live with ghosts because she had been unable to admit she was tired.
But now she felt as helpless as if she were adrift in the sea herself. He was a sailor, she tried to remind herself. He should know what he was doing…even if his boat had sunk.
She pushed away any feeling of unease and focused on searching. Each time they crested a wave, she used the added height as best as she could to look, standing as often as she could to see even further.
And then, when she was beginning to lose hope, she saw a small dot well out to sea.
Her heart froze as her mind instantly began weighing the three souls already in her boat versus the potential one out there. If it wasn’t a man but a stick or debris and she risked their lives…but no, she couldn’t think of that.
“There!” she cried, pointing.
The man followed her gaze. “Do you have strength for it?” she asked. “It’s against the wind and that’s what sapped mine.”
“Are you asking if I’ll leave a man to die?” he screamed, no longer yelling solely to be heard but with vehemence and anger.
“If you do not have the strength, you kill the men in this boat.”
He grimaced but said, “I’m fine, little lady.”
“There’s nothing little about me,” she said. “Tell me when you’re tired and we’ll switch.”
Pursed lips, he only nodded, and then they were off to sea.
She kept looking as they went, further and further, but she saw no one else, save for the speck they were heading towards. It broke her heart. Had she really lost six men?
She pushed that thought from her mind too. Four men were better than no men, and to these men’s families, it would be everything.
“It’s the captain,” the blond said, weakly trying to sit up to better see. Even that he could barely manage.
Part of her instantly blamed the captain for this hoopla they were in; the other part knew there was likely nothing he could have done to stop it. Even the best sailors sometimes died at sea.
When they were about fifty feet off, something inside of her tensed. Something was off. The man neither screamed nor tread nor hung limp in the water. No, it was as if he were already dead but something was propping him up.
She had never been one for superstition. Even on the stormiest of nights with the scariest of storms, her father had not been able to convince her of ghosts or goblins, but now, something inside of her leapt as if it wanted to race away. Her heart raced as though she already was.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one, for her rower paused as he stared out over the sight.
He’d stopped rowing in his shock. It was all it took, and she felt like an idiot for she too had been too focused on the scene to notice how a wave had spun them. The ocean kindly reminded them, crashing a wave over their side and flooding the small boat and smashing its passengers all to the starboard side.
Some water receded, but her mind already told her it was too late. They were sinking too.
CHAPTER 2
The dark-haired man picked up the bailer and she wasted no time in grabbing the oars to try to right themselves with the waves as he began dumping out buckets with a franticness she had never seen on anyone before. Even the blond had revived enough that he was kneeled, scooping water out with his hands, the up and down motion reminding her too much of a sinner pleading to God for mercy.
