Chapter Twenty Tula #2
The familiar strain fisted in my chest. Back in the day, I’d never have worried about Nathan. I’d once believed the ocean could never take a guy like him. Or my mom. But people died all the time.
Drawing in a deep breath, I leaned over the edge. And then I saw the waters swirling, and seconds later, Nathan broke through the surface. He kicked toward the boat and climbed onto the platform with ease. He shrugged off his tanks as if they were a light summer jacket.
I handed him a water bottle and took his tanks.
“Thanks. Everyone okay?” He shoved back a lock of wet hair.
“All present and accounted for,” I said.
He dropped his voice. “What was the deal with Tony?”
“The ocean just got the better of him.”
Nathan nodded slowly as if he sensed I was covering for Tony. He’d seen unnerved divers before, but it was always unsettling when a member of your party vanished. “I thought for a second I’d lost him.”
“He feels bad about it.”
“Good.” A frown furrowed his brow. “He should’ve told me.”
“Go easy on him.”
Nathan drank more water as if swallowing his anger. “I will.”
“Did you see anything?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if her hull finally cracks in two one day.”
“I’m amazed she’s made it this far.” Life went on, but she’d barely changed, from what I was hearing.
“A stubborn old gal.”
The morning air was warm, and once in the sun, the divers stripped off their wet suits.
“So, we head back to shore?” Martha asked.
“Yeah. We’ll debrief at the dock.”
Nathan spoke to each diver, clapped Tony on the shoulder, his touch easy and forgiving. He pressed a button and the anchor rose. Once we were untethered, he moved to the wheel and started the engine. Soon we were headed back to port.
Slowly, relief eased the stiffness in my shoulders. I hadn’t seen the Oceanus today, but I’d come close to her. Not a huge win, but I’d checked a few boxes I never thought I ever would. I wasn’t sure how many more boxes had to be marked off before I was my old self, but I had to be a little closer.
I raised my phone and took a selfie. I texted my therapist, Guess where I am?
No response, but I supposed he was still letting me figure myself out.
The boat engines revved, and we started moving south. The farther away we got from the site, the harder the Oceanus and ocean pulled. One of the two, or both, wanted me to linger.
A good chunk of my life was now attached to that wreck. And no matter how far I ran inland, it would follow.
We arrived at the Wanchese dock forty-five minutes later. Nathan easily angled the boat into its slip. I tied off the rope to the dock as he cut off the engine.
He moved to the center of the deck. “I hope everyone had fun today.”
Everyone, even Tony, was nodding.
“It’s not an easy thing to dive a wreck like that,” Nathan said. “You never know what you’ll find. I bet each of you has a different story to tell.”
Heads bobbed.
“Can we ever go inside the hull?” Jeff asked.
Nathan shook his head. “I’ll never take you in there. Don’t ever forget that twenty people died on that wreck.”
“I thought nineteen souls died there,” Tony said.
“We lost a diver to the wreck about seven years ago.”
Tony tossed side-eye my way, but he didn’t say anything.
Nathan’s answer satisfied some, but others looked a little frustrated. I knew how the lure of exploration nullified potential dangers and laws against possible desecration. I could tell the idea of danger excited a few.
Tony helped Nathan carry the cooler to his truck. I waited by the boat for Nathan’s return.
Nathan had zipped his wet suit down to his waist, revealing dark hair covering a firm chest. The hair slicked off his face drew attention to his blue eyes and high cheekbones. He could never be described as pretty, but he was striking.
“You did a good job today,” he said.
“I didn’t do much.”
“You helped Tony on the boat and kept him calm. I’d have suspended the dive if not for you.”
“Did you know he was going to panic?”
“He was doing fine, and then suddenly he froze. I was following the others down when I realized he wasn’t with us.”
I dropped my voice. “He thinks he saw something.”
“Like?”
I shrugged. “A white misty cloud. He thinks a kind of spirit.”
He didn’t laugh. “I didn’t see anything, but I’ve heard my share of tales about haunted ships. Superstition and the ocean go hand in hand. You’re an experienced diver. What do you think he might have seen?”
“I don’t know. I’ve don’t have the best record when it comes to this wreck.”
“You were great today.”
“I wasn’t in the water.”
“Did you see yourself this close to water a month ago?” he asked.
“I did not.”
“One step at a time, Tula.” He hefted tanks in each hand.
He loaded his tanks in the truck bed. His back to me, he grabbed a towel and dried off before unzipping the suit the rest of the way and peeling it off.
I marveled at the expanse of his tanned, muscled back.
I was kind of sorry he’d been such a gentleman when we’d dived together, but looking back, I was glad he’d kept his distance.
I slid into the truck, shifting against the heat of the front seat. Nathan was seconds behind me, and he turned on the engine and the AC. After it blew out hot air for a few seconds, cool air drifted over my heated skin.
“I’m going to take out another group next week. Want to come?”
“I’ll have to check with Kaitlin and see when I’m scheduled for work. If I’m free, I’ll go.” I wasn’t sure why I wanted to go back to the site. I had nothing to prove to anyone. “I’ll text.”
He grinned and nodded. “I was expecting a fast no.”
“It could end up a no. But like you said, small steps.”
“You going to keep me up to date on that manuscript?”
“I will. There are two women from Austria that are interesting. I think Dr. Brooks was a spy.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s a theory floated by a local. The theory makes sense. It was a world war. Dr. Brooks was visiting all kinds of places in Africa and Europe. He had to be doing more than collecting books.”
Nathan shifted into reverse. The cooling AC skimmed over my skin, sending a chill into my bones. “I did see something down there.”
“What?”
He drew in a breath. “There’s another wreck close to the Oceanus. It’s a small boat, and much older.”
“I never saw it the first time.”
“Last year’s storms likely uncovered it.”
“What kind of wreck?” I asked.
“A schooner, maybe. A wooden hull. It’s falling apart.”
I combed my memory. I’d had time to search the area when I was down there. “I never saw it.”
“Like I said, the storms have been intense since then. Sands down there shift all the time. And there are a lot of wrecks off the Outer Banks.”
“These waters are a mini Bermuda Triangle,” I quipped. “Did you see a name?”
“No name.”
The beaches here had so many secrets. And I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to dig too deep.