Dreaming (16 page)

Off in the distance, a brown head surfaced, gave a watery whine, and went under again. “He’s out there.” He pointed at Gus, who resurfaced and paddled in a small circle, howling.

“Oh, Gus . . . ” She hiked up her skirts and started to climb over the rail, but Richard pulled her back against him and jerked her skirts down.

“You are not going to jump in the water after that dog.”

“I knew you’d save him.”

“I’m not going to save him.”

“Of course you are.”

“No.”

“Then I am.” She started to struggle.

“I will not let you jump into the Channel to save that dog.”

“Then you must save him.” Her voice quivered with panic.

He stood there silent, stony and immovable.

She looked at him, horrified and a little disillusioned. “Gus . . . ” Her whisper came out ragged and torn.

Then she did the only thing that could possibly make him rescue that dog. She cried. Gut-wrenching, pitiful sobs.

He ignored it when his belly tightened in reaction. Tears, he told himself, were only a form of manipulation. But she cried harder, and the sound was real, honest, and affected him more than he cared to admit.

“Oh, Gus . . . ” She stared out at the water and rasped, “He’s the only thing I have.” She quietly sniffled. “My only friend . . . ” Her breathing began to hitch and her sobs stuttered. “In—in the
wh
-whole world.”

“Stop crying, dammit!” Richard hobbled on one foot, pulling off a boot.

She was unable to take a full breath, and when she inhaled it was in loud pathetic wheezes.

He tossed the boot aside and angrily ripped off the other. “I’m going over.”

“
Ple
-le-ease hurry!
Ple
-lease!” she
hiccuped
.

He turned and pinned her with a hard stare. “You hang on to this rail. The ship could list again. Understand?”

She nodded, swiping at her tears.

“Now. Before I jump.”

She gripped the rail.

“Both hands.”

“Hurry.
Ple
-lease.”

He fixed her with a hard look. “Do
not
let go of that rail.”

“I’m holding on. Just save him.”

He ducked under the ship’s rail and braced himself on the ledge.

A second later he was sailing through the air on a rake’s curse. He hit the water. It was like ice. But the cold water numbed the pain in his arm.

He surfaced and collected his bearings, turning toward the deafening canine wails, then swam with a kind of limping one-armed stroke toward the stupid dog that despised him as much as he despised it.

He took a long stroke and asked himself why he was in the icy Channel, wounded, and swimming to save a dog that bit, howled like a banshee, and made his life hell.

Pausing, he looked back at the ship, where
Letty
gripped the railing and watched him intently. Turning to swim on, he sighed. “That’s why.”

He was five feet away when Gus looked straight at him, stopped howling, and lifted his lips in a nasty snarl.

Richard began treading water. “Look, you son of a—”

“
Aahoowoo
!
Aahoowoooooo
!”

Richard winced and shook his head, his ears ringing from the noise. He glanced back and could see
Letty
still at the rail. Her shoulders were still shaking, and he could see her wipe her hand across her eyes.

Resigned to rescue the beast, he turned back. Gus was paddling away from him.

“You’d best come back here! Now!”

Gus stopped paddling away and began to paddle in a wide circle. Around Richard.

“You have about one minute to swim your ungrateful ass back here, or I’m going to turn around and swim back to that ship.” He tightened his jaw and gritted, “Tears or no tears.”

Gus continued to circle him.

Richard waited a minute, then another. He glanced back at the ship and could see
Letty
leaning way over the rail, waving her hands and holding on to nothing. Should the ship list again she’d go headfirst into the water.

He started swimming back.

“
Aaahoowoo
!
Aaahoowoooooooo
!
Aaahoowoooooo
!”

Richard kept swimming. He be damned if he was going to let that dog manipulate him.

Letty
called his name and he listened for a familiar growl. Gus was strangely silent. Richard gave thanks for small favors and kept swimming, his stroke ungainly and awkward.

A moment later something thrashed through the water. He knew without looking that Gus was splashing along behind him. He didn’t give the animal the satisfaction of looking at it. He just kept swimming.

So did the dog, swimming at an angle, until it was alongside him and just scant inches away. They both moved through the icy water. Neither looked at each other.

Then, with a sudden burst of speed, Gus outdistanced him by three body lengths. It was as if the dog was suddenly swimming for its life.

Frowning, Richard glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see a mythical sea serpent or something equally dangerous swimming after them. There was nothing there. He slowly turned back, his gaze locked on the dog, then he glanced to the ship’s rail, where
Letty
was still waving at him.

No. Behind him there was no sea serpent, no ferocious monster with its mouth open and ready to swallow him.

He wasn’t that lucky.

The hellhound was, in Richard’s estimation, incredibly fortunate, for it was even farther ahead.

Out of strangling distance.

Richard picked up his stroke again, something that was easier now because he was so blasted cold that he’d lost all feeling in his arm. When three strokes separated them, sly Gus looked over at him, then paddled like the very devil.

It was then that he knew. The damn dog—the same one he’d jumped into the water to save—was racing him back to the ship.

Letty
peered over the side of the ship and watched Richard and Gus swim toward her. Both appeared unharmed, until Gus began to furiously slap his paws through the water. All she could see was his floppy brown head amid sprays of splashing water. He seemed so panicked she wondered if he was hurt after all.

Richard swam harder too and was almost to the ship when Gus, who had lagged behind, suddenly stopped.

“
Aaaahooooooooow
!
Aaaaahooooow
!”

Gus sounded like he was dying, and Richard was still swimming away! She couldn’t believe that Richard couldn’t hear him.

Panicked, she grabbed the nearest thing: a coil of knotted ropes tied to the ship. She quickly untied them and with a heave flung them over the rail.

They splashed into the water just inches ahead of Richard, who swam right into them. They tangled about his head and arms. He stopped swimming and began treading water. He scowled up at her, looking like a netted fish.

“What the hell did you do that for?” He jerked the ropes off.

“Look!” She pointed behind him. “Gus is hurt!”

He tossed the ropes aside and glanced back.

She cupped her hands together and shouted, “He can’t swim anymore!”

Richard didn’t move.

“Perhaps he has a cramp!”

A floppy brown head slowly sank into the sea.

“He’s going to die!”

With a look that said he was not pleased, Richard swam back. Although it was only a few yards, it seemed as if he would never reach the spot where Gus had gone down.

She kept her eyes on the spot, hoping. Gus still hadn’t come up. Richard searched and she kept her gaze locked on the surface, watching for a big brown lovable head to appear.

The seconds seemed like hours. With each tick of time the burn of tears in her eyes became stronger, the more anxiously her heart pounded and the more hollow she felt.

Finally Richard dove down, and she held her breath, waiting. He resurfaced, shook the water from his head, and dove again.

Oh Gus . . . Oh Gus . . . Please, God, please.

Richard’s head broke through the surface. He gave a quick glance as he took in more air, then disappeared again.

She swiped at her damp eyes. Richard would save him. She knew he would. She knew it. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer.

“Woof!”

Her heart stopped. She thought for a brief instant that she had imagined the sound. It was so close.

“Woof!”

Stunned, she leaned way over the railing.

Gus was merrily paddling in a small circle just inches from the ship.

At the sight of his canine grin, she sagged against the rail and took her first deep breath of relief. Then, remembering Richard, she straightened and turned back just as he surfaced again.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Richard!”

He shook the water from his head.

Ignoring Gus’s familiar growl, she waved her hands to catch his attention.

He looked up at her.

Excitedly, she pointed down at Gus. “Look!”

Richard’s gaze shifted.

“
Woof!” A
frisky brown tail poked through the water, and when Gus was right next to the ship he playfully slapped it with his paws and barked again, twice.

Richard swam toward Gus with incredibly determined strokes. She’d always known that Richard had superior strength. He showed that heroic strength now, wounded, yet swimming with such purposefulness. She sighed dreamily, and when she looked back she could see Richard’s face clearer. There was a seething tenseness to his look, which he directed at Gus.

She blanched slightly. He looked angry enough to make the sea boil. He really did not like Gus. At all.

Richard disappeared beneath the bow of the ship and she couldn’t see either him or Gus without leaning over the rail again. She wasn’t sure she wanted to look over that rail.

“Richard?”

There was a tight grunt she assumed was a response.

“Is Gus hurt?”

“Not yet.”

“Remember, he’s just a poor animal God placed on the earth to help mankind.”

“I know exactly how I can help mankind.”

A second later Gus growled loudly.

“Gus!” she called. “Be sweet. He’s only trying to help you.”

“Yes, Gus. Come here . . . ” Richard’s strained voice carried upward. “Let me
help
you.”

She inched her head over the rail and peered down. They were separated by about four feet, Gus snarling and Richard reaching his hands out.

“He’ll bite you if you get too near his throat,”
Letty
warned.