Convicted
Page 125
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you...” her words were barely audible behind the bellowing cries.
“Shhhh...” If he hadn’t been holding her, Claire wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stand. As she nestled near, his bare chest quivered with exertion. After a moment, they settled on the soft, warm sand.
“Did you ever reach the boat? Or did you finally swim back?” Claire asked, realizing the boat wasn’t in sight.
“It’s anchored around the bend.” He squeezed her tighter. “Believe me, I considered turning around, but I didn’t know which way was shorter the longer I swam; then, as I came back, I couldn’t tell which beach was which.”
“How long did you swim?”
Tony shook his head as a tired grin emerged across his lips. “A lot longer than I’d planned.”
She buried her head into his shoulder. “I kept praying and telling our baby you were safe, but...” the tears came back.
Smoothing her hair, he explained, “I contacted Francis. He knows where we are. He recommended we spend the night on the boat.”
“On the boat?” Claire questioned.
“Yes, we don’t want to be separated from it again, and there’s a small bed in the cabin under the deck.”
Claire nodded. She’d been below in the boat before—it was a calmer ride if the seas were rough.
“In the morning, when the sun comes up, I’ll get you home—I promise.”
She looked up to his tired eyes. “I don’t care where I am, as long as you’re there.” She struggled to stand. “Let’s go. You must be exhausted.”
Taking what was left of Madeline’s lunch time feast, they walked the shore around the bend. With the silver glow of moon light, Claire saw the boat only a short way out, bobbing silently in the virtually calm sea.
When they were both on board, Tony lifted the anchors and took them into slightly deeper water. “When the tide goes down, we don’t want to be marooned,” he explained.
Claire grinned. “I’m impressed. Who would have ever imagined Anthony Rawlings learning the ins and outs of marine navigation?”
Lowering the anchors once again, Tony purposely left slack in the rope. When he looked up and saw Claire’s questioning emerald eyes, he added, “See, Francis so nicely mentioned—perhaps I didn’t do that the first time.” Somewhat sheepishly, he added, “He’s right, I didn’t.”
She reached for Tony’s cheek. “I’ve said it before, and I still believe it’s true, you can teach—”
Tony interrupted, “My love, now that the adrenaline is gone, I definitely feel like that old dog. Let’s go below and get some sleep before the sun rises.”
If the cabin had been truly meant for sleeping—the designers didn’t plan for it to be shared by a 6’6” man and a pregnant woman. Regardless, Claire and Tony worked their way into the small space. The rhythmic bobbing of the boat was surprisingly comforting as Claire maneuvered herself in an effort to become comfortable. Once they were settled, Tony said, “Do you know what this reminds me of?”
“Sardines?”
She heard his laugh in the dark cabin. “No, I was thinking of our trip to Europe—the yacht on the Mediterranean.”
Her mind went back in time. It seemed like two other people in a different life. “I suppose if I pretend this four inch foam mattress is really a king sized bed and the ceiling is six feet above my head instead of two—”
Tony’s lips found hers, stopping her words. “Yes, there are a few differences.” Trailing the tips of his fingers along her shoulder and down her midsection as Claire lay on her side facing him, he continued, “Perhaps it’s the rocking of the waves, or the sweet sound of your breathing in my ear; regardless, it reminds me of then.”
“I suppose I can see a few similarities.”
“One day—one day we’ll go back, and the yacht we rent will have enough room for all of our children.”
Fighting, once again, to relieve the pressure in her lower back, Claire replied, “Children? I’m pretty sure the ultrasounds have only shown one baby.”
His voice fought the exhaustion to which his body had already surrendered. “Oh, but think how much fun it will be to create more...”
When his words turned to breathing, Claire kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Good night, Tony.”
He may have said it was her breathing that reminded him of the past, but it was his breathing that gave her hope for their future. Only hours earlier, the world turned gray—color was gone—now in the darkness of the boat’s cabin, Claire remembered the colors of the flowers Tony had picked. She saw the blue of the sunlit ocean and the greens of the plants. It didn’t matter that they weren’t in their bed or their room, all that mattered was that he was safe—she was safe—and they were together.
“Shhhh...” If he hadn’t been holding her, Claire wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stand. As she nestled near, his bare chest quivered with exertion. After a moment, they settled on the soft, warm sand.
“Did you ever reach the boat? Or did you finally swim back?” Claire asked, realizing the boat wasn’t in sight.
“It’s anchored around the bend.” He squeezed her tighter. “Believe me, I considered turning around, but I didn’t know which way was shorter the longer I swam; then, as I came back, I couldn’t tell which beach was which.”
“How long did you swim?”
Tony shook his head as a tired grin emerged across his lips. “A lot longer than I’d planned.”
She buried her head into his shoulder. “I kept praying and telling our baby you were safe, but...” the tears came back.
Smoothing her hair, he explained, “I contacted Francis. He knows where we are. He recommended we spend the night on the boat.”
“On the boat?” Claire questioned.
“Yes, we don’t want to be separated from it again, and there’s a small bed in the cabin under the deck.”
Claire nodded. She’d been below in the boat before—it was a calmer ride if the seas were rough.
“In the morning, when the sun comes up, I’ll get you home—I promise.”
She looked up to his tired eyes. “I don’t care where I am, as long as you’re there.” She struggled to stand. “Let’s go. You must be exhausted.”
Taking what was left of Madeline’s lunch time feast, they walked the shore around the bend. With the silver glow of moon light, Claire saw the boat only a short way out, bobbing silently in the virtually calm sea.
When they were both on board, Tony lifted the anchors and took them into slightly deeper water. “When the tide goes down, we don’t want to be marooned,” he explained.
Claire grinned. “I’m impressed. Who would have ever imagined Anthony Rawlings learning the ins and outs of marine navigation?”
Lowering the anchors once again, Tony purposely left slack in the rope. When he looked up and saw Claire’s questioning emerald eyes, he added, “See, Francis so nicely mentioned—perhaps I didn’t do that the first time.” Somewhat sheepishly, he added, “He’s right, I didn’t.”
She reached for Tony’s cheek. “I’ve said it before, and I still believe it’s true, you can teach—”
Tony interrupted, “My love, now that the adrenaline is gone, I definitely feel like that old dog. Let’s go below and get some sleep before the sun rises.”
If the cabin had been truly meant for sleeping—the designers didn’t plan for it to be shared by a 6’6” man and a pregnant woman. Regardless, Claire and Tony worked their way into the small space. The rhythmic bobbing of the boat was surprisingly comforting as Claire maneuvered herself in an effort to become comfortable. Once they were settled, Tony said, “Do you know what this reminds me of?”
“Sardines?”
She heard his laugh in the dark cabin. “No, I was thinking of our trip to Europe—the yacht on the Mediterranean.”
Her mind went back in time. It seemed like two other people in a different life. “I suppose if I pretend this four inch foam mattress is really a king sized bed and the ceiling is six feet above my head instead of two—”
Tony’s lips found hers, stopping her words. “Yes, there are a few differences.” Trailing the tips of his fingers along her shoulder and down her midsection as Claire lay on her side facing him, he continued, “Perhaps it’s the rocking of the waves, or the sweet sound of your breathing in my ear; regardless, it reminds me of then.”
“I suppose I can see a few similarities.”
“One day—one day we’ll go back, and the yacht we rent will have enough room for all of our children.”
Fighting, once again, to relieve the pressure in her lower back, Claire replied, “Children? I’m pretty sure the ultrasounds have only shown one baby.”
His voice fought the exhaustion to which his body had already surrendered. “Oh, but think how much fun it will be to create more...”
When his words turned to breathing, Claire kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Good night, Tony.”
He may have said it was her breathing that reminded him of the past, but it was his breathing that gave her hope for their future. Only hours earlier, the world turned gray—color was gone—now in the darkness of the boat’s cabin, Claire remembered the colors of the flowers Tony had picked. She saw the blue of the sunlit ocean and the greens of the plants. It didn’t matter that they weren’t in their bed or their room, all that mattered was that he was safe—she was safe—and they were together.
