To his shock, the lady crouched down and threw a huge smile toward Bella. She knew what his baby wanted, and held out the lead to the kite.
Bella raced up and grabbed it. Children this young took what life offered, didn’t they?
Her pudgy face up to watch the red paper in the sky, Bella pointed toward the thing that flew like a bird. She giggled as the wind carried her along, her eyes on her only desire.
“Come back!” the lady shouted at her as Bella tried to navigate the rocky beach—and teetered and shook.
He jolted in alarm.
The winds blustered and blew, far stronger than his little girl.
No! Stop!“Bella, come back,” he called, but he knew she did not hear him nor have any inclination to obey. He ran toward her, stumbling along the stony shore.
But Bella was enchanted, oblivious to the waves and the danger as she tramped into the water.
A white-capped wave loomed like a monster. Angry, another appeared, five times as tall as his little girl.
“No!” he shouted. His hat flew away. He trudged into the rush, the pull of the undertow battering his legs as he trudged forward to get his girl.
The woman sprang forward, running after Bella, straight into the water.
Bella stumbled, but rose up, smiling and showing it all great fun. She followed the kite and her fascination. She giggled, caring not that she was in the ocean. But then a wave—foamed in white like a wild beast—rose up and rolled over her.
Nooo!Clive tripped. Damn the stones.
A second wave, big as the one that took his girl, rolled toward him. Freezing water filled his boots and soaked his breeches. But he stood, weaving, shaken…struggling to keep his footing.
Determination had him stepping toward the last spot he’d seen his daughter. But…no! He saw no one!
He could not lose her!Never!
He dashed deeper into the water, the waves threatening, icy and heavy against him. He saw a sprig of blue and knew it was Bella. A patch of pink and lavender shot up…and stood.
Sodden, reeling, the lady crushed Bella in her arms.
Clive lost his breath. Yet hope swamped him. He struggled to stride nearer to them.
The lady crooned to his daughter, her lips in Bella’s wet hair.
He heard her. Nonsense, her words resembled some foreign language, but Clive knew the soothing sounds of love and caring any adult bestowed upon a child, scared and alone.
Bella clung to the lady, her chubby arms clasped tightly around her rescuer’s neck.
If she cried, Clive could not tell.
“Thank you, thank you,” he managed over and over when he got to them.
Bella left her rescuer’s arms and came to his. “Papa.” She nuzzled her sweet little face into the hollow of his shoulder.
“I know, sweet one, I know. You’re safe.” He reached out to the lady, and though she shook, she grabbed his hand. “You are both safe. Let’s go in.”
Struggling against the lash and pull of the waves, they trudged out of the water up to hot, dry land.
“You’re soaked,” he said to the lady.
She picked at her muslin gown, but no amount of that would save her from the way the dress clung to her generous breasts and the elegant line of her torso and legs.
His daughter clung to him, soaking the front of his frockcoat. But he had to provide whatever warmth he could for both of them. He put Bella to her feet. “Stand here, my girl.” Then he shrugged out of his frockcoat and wrapped it around her. The garment was so huge that the still-dry part of the garment enveloped her. A good thing.
