The Bride with No Name. Marie Ferrarella
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go conjuring up things that aren’t there.” No one in their right mind would be sailing this time of night with a storm brewing. It had to be a trick of the light.
But even so, Trevor dawdled a minute longer, digging his bare feet into the sand, his shoes dangling from his fingertips. He supposed it was silly, but walking barefoot in the sand always made him feel like a kid again.
A kid with a hell of a lot of blessings to count, he reminded himself.
So why, with his life obviously so full, so busy that he didn’t have the time to draw in an unscheduled breath, with everything he ever wanted coming true, did he still feel as if something was missing from his life? As if there was supposed to be more, but wasn’t?
“Never satisfied, that’s your problem,” he murmured under his breath.
He had no doubt that that would have been Travis’s assessment of the situation if he’d said anything to his brother. Travis was one of the two people with whom he shared not only his blood but also his face. He, Travis and Trent were born only minutes apart. Triplets so identical that for the first few years, not even his parents or his older brother, Mike, could tell them apart if not for a few identifying tricks his father had employed. He’d heard that his father had actually written their names on the soles of their left feet with a laundry marker until his mother had vetoed that practice.
When they got older, he, Trent and Travis had taken full advantage of their communal looks, playing each other for the sole purpose of messing with everyone else’s minds.
The sight of triplets tended to do that to people, he thought with a nostalgic smile. It reduced the public at large to confused masses. Entertained, he and his brothers had made the most of their situation—until their mother died in a plane crash and their world caved in.
He didn’t want to think about that now.
Trevor shoved his free hand deep into his pocket. He didn’t want to think about anything, really, just make his mind a blank and recharge, that was the purpose behind this little Lawrence of Arabia trek across the cooling sand.
The boardwalk, newly refurbished and running parallel to the sidewalk some fifty feet away, was right behind him. The car he’d driven to come down here this morning wasn’t much beyond that, in the restaurant’s parking lot. Trevor began to turn toward it, thinking that he needed to put his shoes back on and get home already, when something caught his eye.
It was a great deal closer than the vessel, which got smaller by the moment, off to whatever destination it had charted.
Closer and a lot less imposing.
He didn’t know if it was the moon highlighting it—whatever “it” was—or if some stray beam of light had caught on an object bobbing out in the waves.
No, there was definitely something floating out there.
Probably driftwood or a giant hunk of seaweed, Trevor mocked himself.
Or a shark.
As a kid, he’d been terrified of the movie Jaws and all its sequels. So much so that even taking showers required preparatory silent pep talks on his part. For a whole year, he’d taken showers that lasted less than five minutes. His father had praised him for his efforts on behalf of conservation, but Kate knew the real cause. He’d been afraid that the water would attract the finny predator. Without saying anything to him directly, she’d made a point of taking him and his brothers on a field trip to the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach as well as Sea World. Eventually, his phobia faded.
Whatever was out there kept splashing.
Sharks didn’t splash like that, he thought. What if it was a person?
What the hell would a person be doing in the middle of the water at this time of night? It didn’t make any sense.
But sense or not, his gut told him he was right. Someone was out there. Someone in trouble.
Before he even completed the thought, Trevor found himself running to the edge of the water. He dropped his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket as he made his way into the waves.
“Hey!” he shouted as loud as he could. “You need help out there?” It was a stupid question, but he wanted the person in the water to know that they weren’t alone. That help was coming.
There was no answer, only the sound of the waves reaching the shore. That, and another piercing announcement from a seagull.
The closer Trevor got to the edge of the water, the more convinced he was that a human being was out there.
He didn’t hesitate.
Trevor dove into the water, fighting to keep his orientation foremost in his mind. He could easily lose his bearings out here in the water, especially in the dark. The water was warmer than he’d expected. Also rougher, but he was a strong swimmer, thanks to the lessons he and his brothers had taken. He could remember not wanting to, but Kate had insisted, saying he never knew when it might come in handy.
How right she was.
Trevor struggled to keep his mouth closed as a wave washed over him, trying to pull him down. His shoulders protested against the effort. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been swimming. His life left no room for things like that. He’d spent the last two years getting his restaurant on its feet and the five years before that either in college or the culinary academy.
He was the one they’d made the nursery rhyme about, the one bemoaning Jack being all work and no play. The closest he’d come to “play” was when he got together with his parents, and his brothers and sister. They insisted he kick back, and he did, as much as he was able. But in his head, he was always working, always planning the next menu, the next banquet. He’d been hired for a number of those and his reputation, mercifully, was spreading by word of mouth.
“Almost there!” he called out, trying not to gasp the words.
And then, bobbing up and down in the swirling dark waters, he’d reached the person.
It was a woman.
The moment he was close to her, he saw her eyelashes flutter and then her eyes roll upward. Damn it, she was passing out. Was she hurt? How did she get here in the first place? Had she fallen off the yacht he’d thought he’d seen a few minutes ago?
Dozens of questions flew in and out of his brain like a bolt of lightning, yielding no answers. He grabbed at her before she could sink.
Maybe it was better this way. If she was unconscious, at least she wouldn’t be flailing wildly with her arms or clutching at him to help keep her afloat. Either way she would have been a liability, endangering them both.
Trevor looked toward the shore. God, but it seemed like a long distance away. Turning the unconscious woman so that she was floating on her back, he tucked one arm around her waist as best he could and used the other to swim.
It was awkward at best and progress was slow. The waves seemed to be against him, pushing him back by half the distance he’d made.
It felt like an ongoing battle, one he couldn’t even begin to think about losing. No one knew he was out here. His family wouldn’t know what to think if all trace of him disappeared into the ocean.
He couldn’t do that to them.
Exhausted, he willed strength into his body, focusing on the shore and nothing else. He had to reach it. Nothing else was an option.
It seemed as if it was taking forever.
His lungs were burning and his quadriceps felt as if they were on fire. He pressed on, tightening his hold on the woman.
By the time he finally reached the shore, his heart was racing, his head throbbing. He felt as if he’d swallowed a third of the ocean. Dragging her out and collapsing, he just lay there beside the woman he’d rescued, gasping for air, searching for precious equilibrium.
As his breathing returned