A Saltwater Christmas (The Southern Isles #1)

Chapter Twenty

E ven though Allie had left so abruptly, it didn’t feel like running away. It felt like self-care. She needed to push her body, inhale deeply, and reach and maintain a heart rate far above resting. She needed time alone to think. Cuppie stayed beside her, jogging along like she understood the assignment. They passed Dottie’s house with its colorful Christmas bulbs, yellow truck in the driveway, and window cats. Then down the lane past someone’s handmade Little Free Library, and on toward the bridge leading off the island. If she banked left before she got to it, there was a path to the ocean. As soon as she thought about it, she had to go. She might not have that ham and pickle sandwich for her dad that she’d planned on, but going to the beach was suddenly back on.

She wasn’t ready to stop running, but the sand slowed her down, and the ocean had a calming effect that persuaded her to pause. As soon as she sat down, Cuppie leaned hard against her. Allie remembered how the dog had put her whole body between Sam and the overturned dresser. This felt like the same thing. “Are you trying to help me, Cup?”

Cuppie placed her furry face squarely against Allie’s cheek.

“What happened today?” Allie asked as if Cuppie could answer. “Did you find the teenager?”

Of course Cuppie didn’t answer. Everything she’d experienced as a military working dog, as a search-and-rescue dog, as Sam’s dog, would be kept inside, never shared. Her yellow eyes stared straight ahead like the ocean held the answer to every question, like this giant wolf-dog had a connection to nature, and to the entire universe, that a human could never understand. A connection she shared by leaning her weight against Allie’s side, by breathing, and by simply being there. Allie put her arm around the warm dog and turned her nose into her fur. “Thank you.”

Something inside Allie broke—an emotional dam of sorts. She started talking to Cuppie and didn’t stop until her fingers were blue and she could no longer feel her nose. She told her about how her dad was always busy at work. How providing for his family was his definition of being a good father, and because of that, she’d always craved more of him. He didn’t know the name of her first boyfriend, what size shoe she wore, which best friend had unfairly turned on her, and which teacher said she wrote brilliant poetry.

She’d counted on the fact that one day her dad would retire. One day, he would slow down long enough to have time for her. One day, he might even need her or at least appreciate her. Now that day would never come. He’d died while she was off at college, and by then, he was too busy shutting down to be the father she needed. He’d been a shadow of himself, gaunt and gray, skinny as a bean pole, and desperately tired.

Then, Mark decided to move across the country. She was still in the worst pain of her life, and what did her boyfriend do? He left. She’d been abandoned by her father and her partner. How did a person overcome that? How did a person allow themselves to be vulnerable again? Where did they find the bravery to trust a man when the stakes were so high? A heart could only take a certain amount of damage before it was irrevocably broken.

Allie stared at the deep blue salt water along with Cuppie, watching the waves reach the shore and listening for the cadence. Nothing about the rhythm of the ocean was perfect. The waves didn’t land on the correct foot each time, on the correct spot. They didn’t avoid cracks in the sidewalk or tap the faucet three times before washing their hands. The waves freely did what they wanted. Some came in sideways, some large, some small, some curled, some flattened, but they all hit the shore just the same. And it was beautiful.

Allie breathed in deeply. She knew Sam. Knew him enough to trust, at least a little, that his intentions were good. So he’d invited his commanding officer, who happened to be her mother’s boyfriend. Had he been trying to hurt her? No, absolutely not. Should she be willing to at least ask about his motivation? Ask why he’d done it? Probably. Maybe what her mother needed was an invitation—even one extended by her daughter’s roommate. Why was Allie so quick to think that everyone was against her? Especially the people who, in every other part of her life, seemed to be on her side. Why was she most angry with the people who genuinely cared about her? Maybe she wasn’t being fair. It was Christmas Eve, and she’d just run out on a house full of people who cared about her. What was she doing subjecting poor Cuppie to the freezing beach when she should be curled up by the fire sound asleep?

Just as Allie went to stand, Cuppie jumped to full alert. She looked at Allie as if asking for permission, then barked several times and ran headlong into the ocean.

“Cuppie!” Allie yelled, panicked. “Cuppie, come back!” She’d left her phone back at the cottage, and the beach was completely empty. Even if she screamed as loud as she could for help, no one would hear her.

Cuppie knew to dive beneath the breaking waves, coming up for air in between until she made it past the break.

Allie pulled off her shoes and ran into the ocean up to her knees, yelling the dog’s name. But Cuppie swam straight out into the depths—fast. That’s when Allie caught sight of something dark and round in the distance, directly in the path of where Cuppie was headed. It was barely visible, and her eyes had trouble making out what it was, until she suddenly knew. Without a doubt. It was a person. Oh my God.

Allie was a good swimmer but not a great one. Plus, she was fully dressed. She walked farther out until the waves broke at her waist. The water was terribly cold. No one swam off the coast of South Carolina after October without a wetsuit.

“Hey!” she yelled at the faraway bobbing head, waving her arms. Cuppie was almost there. She watched as the dog grabbed hold of the person’s collar with her teeth and began surging toward shore. As soon as she pulled the person close enough, Allie dove in and swam out to meet them. It was a young boy holding tight to a Camelbak water bladder he must’ve emptied and filled with air. He was on his back and didn’t appear to be conscious except for the fact that he continued holding tight to the floating bag. Cuppie tugged on the boy’s sweatshirt while Allie lifted his head higher out of the water so that it was easier for him to breathe. When they got to shore, she pulled beneath his shoulders until he was safely on the sand. Cuppie shook, then despite her tongue hanging long and tired, she took off running.

Please be getting Sam , Allie prayed. The boy was barely breathing. She knew she needed to warm him up, but she herself was soaked and freezing. The only thing she could think to do was pull him to her, shield him from the wind, and share whatever heat she had with his icy body. “You’re safe now,” she said softly and confidently. “We’re getting help, and you’re going to be warm very soon.” He was curled like a baby in her arms, his head against her chest, and she found herself rocking him.

Hurry, Sam , she kept thinking. Hurry. “Hang in there, sweetheart, help is coming.” She wore a tank top underneath her sweatshirt, so she pulled the heavy thing off, giving his cheek skin-to-skin access to her upper chest. She shook with the intense cold. Her sweatshirt was wet, but maybe it would still help hold in the heat, so she placed it on top of his head.

Hurry, Sam! She rocked the boy vigorously and sang to him the only song that she could think of. “We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas.” Please Sam, please hurry! “Good tidings to you, and all of your kin.”

Tears streaked down her face, and she allowed them to drop onto the boy’s forehead. At least they were warm. They were the only warm thing between them. Her voice cracked as she tried to sing, “Good tidings for Christmas and a Happy New Year.” She didn’t know anything about hypothermia except for the fact that this boy had it, and that it was deadly.

Get here, Sam! Get here now!

Finally, the sound she’d been breathlessly anticipating came. Tires on gravel, a door opening, and Cuppie’s bark. “Sam! Sam, run!” She did her best to yell, but her vocal cords felt frozen. Cuppie got there first, with Sam steps behind. She slumped with relief, somehow knowing that her mother and the colonel were there, too, but they were like apparitions in the fog of her brain. She felt a blanket placed around her shoulders and was lifted by a man and carried. Maybe the colonel? She wasn’t sure. There were flashing lights, and she heard Sam’s voice saying things like “bpm eighteen” and “temperature at 92.1.” She heard a crinkling sound and caught a glimpse of a person wrapped in a silver blanket. She tried to speak, but it came out as a mumble. She wanted to ask if the boy was okay.

When her mind finally cleared, she was in Sam’s Jeep with the heater blowing directly onto her. The colonel stood behind her mother, who was kneeling by the open passenger door, holding Allie’s fingers up the vent. Sam was in the driver’s seat, and the ambulance was gone. She was still shivering but could finally form the words “Is he okay?”

“If he makes it,” Sam answered, “it’s all thanks to you and Cup.”

“It was Cuppie.” Her lips still felt tight and cold.

“Says my frozen girl we found sitting on the beach singing Christmas carols and giving all of her warmth to that young man.” Her mother spoke in a voice that held a certain softness—something like thankfulness, or maybe pride.

“Let’s get her home,” Sam said, his fingers gentle on her wrist. “Her pulse is strong, but she needs a hot bath.”

“Cuppie too,” Allie added.

“Cuppie too,” Sam agreed.

“I bought stuff for charcuterie,” Allie said as they neared the house. “And for dinner.”

“I’ll handle all of that,” her mother said. “After I give you a bath.”

Allie felt herself smile. “You’re going to give me a bath, Mama?”

“I’m going to sit there with you and make sure you’re safe. Just like I used to.”

“Thank you,” Allie said, wrapping her stiff fingers around her mother’s hand. “Thank you for being here.”