The mast shuddered, and they caught themselves on the lines, the boy yelping in terror. There was a deafening and unearthly groan as the deck sank beneath the waves.
Cormac unsheathed his dirk and began sawing away. “Can you swim, lad?” The boy gave a frantic and wide-eyed shake to his head.
Aidan caught the boy's weight as Cormac sheared the last of the lines free. “No matter. We've got you.” The mast tilted at a sharp angle over the water. It seemed the water was rushing up to meet them. There wasn't enough time to climb back down. “I'll jump in,” Cormac said. “You toss him down to me.” Steadying himself against the wooden yard, Cormac edged along the footrope to the very end of the yardarm. He gave his twin a last glance. He'd half-expected some jest about heroics, but Aidan only nodded gravely. Cormac nodded back. And then he leapt.
He slammed into the freezing water, and it felt almost warm on his chilled skin. A few rapid breaths brought his senses back to him. Chafing the water from his eyes, he called up to Aidan. “Now!” Aidan wound the buntline around his left fist to anchor himself. He clutched the child in his right arm, shifting him to his hip. Cormac watched as his brother whispered something in the boy's ear, and the two clasped hands. Then, swooping as far as he could over the water, Aidan swung the boy free, and let go-The boy screamed, tumbling through the air in a slow-motion dive, his arms spinning like pinwheels. Cormac treaded water, trying to be close enough to snatch him from the waves, but not so close that the boy would land on him, injuring them both.
He hit the water with a hard splash, and Cormac dove under at once, hands splayed apart and waving before him, searching. He found a tiny wrist and seized it, swimming back up and wrenching the child above the surface of the water.
He swam for Marjorie's dory, hauling the boy at his side. Seawater stung his nose and slapped in his eyes, but he headed toward the sound of her voice. The child gasped for air, but it was only panic, for Cormac made sure to hold his head above water.
He heard her yelling, over and over, “Row! Get closer! Row, damn you!” The sound was like a clarion call, guiding him up from hell.
Finally, his hand slapped the hull of her boat, and Marjorie leaned over the side, reaching out to them. “Give him to me,” she urged, hauling the child up to her. She wrapped an arm around the boy, stretching the other to Cormac. “Thank God. Thank heavens.”
Their gazes locked. She looked beleaguered and bedraggled and scared, and she was the dearest creature he could ever imagine.
Cupping Cormac's cheek in her palm, she gave Cormac a gentle smile. Her hand was warm against his frigid skin.
He knew then he'd do it all over again just to see the tenderness in her eyes.
“I love you, Ree. You believe me now, don't you?”
“Aye,” she said, and she was laughing, despite the tears she scrubbed from her face. “As I love you, Cormac. As I always have.”
He sighed heavily, relieved. She was his, as it always had been, as it always would be.
But then it struck him. He looked around in confusion. “Where's Aidan?” Swimming alone, his brother should've beat him there, or at least been right behind.
The sun was beginning to lighten the sky to slate. He shielded his eyes, not from the light, but to make sense of the monotony of gray horizon smothering gray sea.
But all he saw was the tip of the mainmast submerged into water the color of steel.
Chapter 39
His arms sliced rhythmically through the water, and Cormac imagined himself a fish, streaking back to the schooner, now completely submerged.
They weren't so far from shore, the water not so very deep. The Oliphant had struck the bottom and was canting toward him, slowly tilting onto its side. He shifted, stroking through the water with an eye trained on the empty space marking the ship's grave.
There.
A head bobbed up, then back down again. Aidan was clawing at the water as though trying to climb an invisible ladder with one hand.
Cormac dove back under, launching toward him. Close now, he saw the web of ratlines floating like kelp just beneath the surface of the water. Aidan was snagged among them, like a trapped fly.
The schooner continued to tip, a languorous movement, like Poseidon reclining upon the seabed for a rest. Aidan gasped for air, then disappeared for good.
Cormac surged forward until the muscles in his arms strained with the effort. The Oliphant was easing onto its side, dragging Aidan to the bottom. He would not lose his brother a second time.
A final, hard scissor kick brought Cormac's fingertips to the fringe of lines. He gripped tight, fighting the panicked, helpless sensation of being tugged down. Hand over hand, he climbed along the ratlines toward Aidan.
Cormac could just make out his brother beneath the surface. Aidan was on top of the lines, his legs braced against the mast, struggling to untangle his arm from a thick snarl of ropes, his movements a dreamy slow motion.
Cormac reached for the dirk at his back and cursed the empty scabbard. His knife was long gone.
Sucking in a huge breath, Cormac dipped his head below the waves. Inch by inch, he felt his way along the knots toward Aidan. Panic clawed at his mind like a hungry rat. He shut his eyes, forcing his muscles to ease. Alarm would only steal the last of his breath.
Imagining a slowed heartbeat, he ran his fingers along the lines. He was a fisherman. He'd untied hundreds of knots, blinded by as many storms. This was no different.
Aidan's struggles slowed. Stopped. His body drifted beside Cormac like a wraith.
He forced it from his mind. He had to trust the cold to keep his brother.
He probed the nest of lines, ignoring the increasingly shrill pleas of his body. Holding his breath took all the force of his will. His lungs were emptied of air, but rather than collapsing inward, the sensation was that his chest might burst. He compelled himself to stay submerged, feeling as though he bore the weight of the sea itself on his chest.
The knot.
He found it. A single knot trapped Aidan's forearm. Cormac traced his fingers over the long oval of it. A sheepshank. Sailors tied it in the middle of a line to shore up damaged rope. But there was a trick. Simply remove the tension, and the knot will slip loose.
Cormac worked frantically now. Though he fought the spasmodic urge to inhale water, still it found a way to seep in, tearing at his throat. Folk said drowning was a peaceful thing, but it wasn't. Drowning was a violent thing.
The sea was savage, trying to seep into him, ravenous, relentless.
He hauled Aidan's limp body close to him, and with a twist to ease the tension, the knot fell apart, and his brother slid free.
They flopped Aidan over the side of Marjorie's boat, and the sudden pressure on his belly sent water spewing from his mouth. Cormac climbed in behind him, guiding his brother's head, leaning him over the side. Cormac slapped hard at Aidan's back while he worked to catch his own breath. Both of them were racked with tremors. Aidan hacked fiercely as the last of the seawater erupted from his lungs.
Marjorie was at Cormac's side, and her warm body pressed against him felt like a furnace. At the mere suggestion of heat, unstoppable shivering seized him.
“Thank God,” she cooed at him, laying frantic kisses along his cheek and chafing heat into his arms and back.
“Thank God you're alive.”
With a grunt, Aidan spat one last time over the edge of the boat and shifted away from them.
Cormac coughed sharply into his hand, taking a moment to catch his breath once more. “We saved Davie. Saved the men.”
“I know.” She combed eager fingers through his hair, pulling a wet shock of it from his brow. “I know you did.
I'm so sorry if I ever doubted you.”
“I sank the boat,” he said.
She looked to where the Oliphant once was and gave a little half laugh. “Clearly.”
“I did what I promised, Ree.” Cormac's body finally relaxed, and his breathing grew even. “You know what this means, right?”
She looked back to him. The morning sun was low in the sky, and it made her vibrant eyes glimmer like lapis.
“What?”
His heart swelled at the sight of her. Glorious, brave, impetuous Ree. His Ree. “You'll marry me.” Marjorie tucked her hand in his, and it was all the anchor he needed on this earth. She leaned in for a tender kiss. Touching her forehead to his, she whispered, “Without question.” Epilogue
Only in her wildest dreams had Marjorie imagined this.
Her, at Dunnottar, by Cormac's side. The grass was green and lush from the spring rains. Red light streaked the late afternoon sky, casting bands of orange and crimson across the gently rolling waves far below. The two of them lingered beneath a makeshift trellis, pine boughs laced with flowers arching overhead. The scent of blue-bells and sea lightened her soul.
“What is it, Ree?”
She glanced up, and her breath hitched, seeing her wildest dream of all: Cormac. Her husband. They'd married, facing Cormac's sea.
He raised a brow, silently pressing his question.
Joy overcame her, and she felt it as a physical thing radiating from deep inside. “It's just that I love you.”
“And I, you.” He cupped her chin for a lingering kiss. Reluctantly, he pulled away. When he spoke, his voice was husky with emotion. “Always, I've loved you.”
Marjorie beamed. She took in the scene around them. Folk milled about Dunnottar's grounds, and as the moon began to challenge the sun in the sky, a small bonfire appeared, drawing smiling faces and cups of whiskey like moths to flame. “I still can't believe it.”
“Believe it.” Cormac's gaze tracked hers, looking at his siblings gathering around the fire. “I'm sorry your uncle isn't here to share this,” he added somberly.
She nodded, her voice too tight with emotion to speak.
He took her hand and squeezed it. “I'm your family now.”
It was a simple notion, but it filled her all the same. She gave him a loving smile. “And them?” She nodded to the MacAlpins: Bridget, Gregor, Declan. And though Anya was far away, Aidan's presence eased the sting of her
