Kendall’s hat blew off, flying skyward. Isolde held the brim of her bonnet to her face, a shield against the drenching water.
She yelled something, but the wind whipped it away. She gestured to the right and he steered that way. She pointed left, and he followed.
Tense minutes followed, waves lapping over the side of the boat. They were taking on water.
Slowly, they passed into the inlet, the headland providing shelter from the worst of the storm.
TheSS Statesmanrocked ominously in the more exposed ocean, smoke belching upward. Hopefully, Captain Woodbury was preparing to steam off to find a more protected place to anchor.
Kendall pulled at the oars. Though less choppy in the inlet, the sea still made steering perilous.
Neither of them saw the rogue wave. Barreling in from the north, it scooped up their paper boat of a dinghy with ease.
The boat flipped with astonishing force, tossing both Kendall and Isolde into the ocean.
Helplessly, his arms reached for his wife as the frigid water of the Atlantic swallowed him whole, waves pushing him down, down into the cold, dark depths.
Summoning all his will to hold panic at bay, he paused for a moment, waiting for the natural buoyancy of his body to indicate which way was up. With a powerful kick upward, he broke the surface.
Waves buckled around his head and rain drenched his cheeks. Shaking water out of his eyes, he scanned the surrounding ocean.
Searching for the only thing that mattered—Isolde.
He didn’t see her.
The rowboat bobbed about twenty yards off, overturned and drifting away on the current.
But he still couldn’t seeher.
He kicked toward the boat, grateful they had at least made it into the inlet where the sea wasn’t nearly as rough.
“Isolde!” he yelled. “Isolde!”
He paused, trying to listen, but heard nothing beyond the roar of wind and waves.
“Isolde!”
Where was she?
Was she hurt?
Terror seized him.
Diving underwater, he opened his eyes, hoping for a flash of white petticoats or coppery hair. Any sign she was near.
But only the murky deep greeted him.
Panic bloomed, sending jittery terror through his limbs.
He had to find her.
She could not have gone far. But what if another rogue wave or treacherous current had—
His lungs protested the lack of air.
Pushing upward, he broke the surface again.
“Isolde! Where are you?!” he screamed.
