Save Me Read online

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  This book is dedicated to Christine Sneddon-Renzie,

  my first true fan and the truest friend I’ve ever known.

  Love always.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Teaser

  About the Author

  Copyright

  ONE

  Cara Markwell pulled into the lot above the dock at Liberty Charters and glimpsed the grille of a red sedan barreling toward her. Panicking, she jerked her steering wheel hard right. The front of her Honda Civic scraped against the bumper of Captain Rick’s Chevy Tahoe, and she cringed at the grating sound.

  Stomping on the brake pedal, she slammed her car into park and blasted the horn. Her heart pounded harder as her panic turned to anger. She smacked the dashboard and watched the offending vehicle peal out of the lot.

  It was a Volkswagen Jetta, just like the one her freshman-year boyfriend, Chris Adams, used to drive. She hadn’t seen Chris around town in two years, so it probably wasn’t him. Whoever it was had to be a jerk like him, though. Anyone with a sense of common courtesy knew the importance of driving carefully in parking lots.

  She inched her car into the nearest spot and stepped out on shaky legs to check the damage. A long, black scrape marred her Civic’s right front panel. But she was more concerned about Rick’s Tahoe. A thick, white stripe of paint coated its rear bumper.

  It might be better to come back a different day for a tour. She could just tell Rick about the accident and head home. But she’d be starting her senior year in another week, and she hadn’t seen her whales in over a month.

  She grabbed her backpack from her car and popped the locks. Zipping up her windbreaker, she ignored the wobble in her legs as she walked toward the office door. A strong summer breeze blew her long, dark hair across her face. She used the tie around her wrist to gather it out of the way, and took deep breaths of crisp, early morning sea air.

  The bell above the door jingled when she swung it open and she instantly relaxed inside the familiar, dimly lit office, with its fake wood plank walls covered by framed photos of the area’s whales, including the grays she’d grown to love over the last few years.

  Captain Rick’s wife and business partner, Sherry, sat behind the front desk. She wore her regular work attire: a gray windbreaker with an embroidered navy Liberty Charters whale tail logo. Cara owned a similar jacket, but hadn’t worn it that day, as she wasn’t officially volunteering to assist.

  Sherry set down a paperback. “I didn’t know you planned to go out today, kiddo. But you’re in luck. We only have one customer signed up.”

  Rick’s boat held six passengers, and as long as there was a seat available, he always let Cara ride along for free.

  Cara stopped in front of Sherry’s desk.

  “Something wrong?” Sherry’s eyebrows rose, pulling the wrinkles around her eyes up with them.

  Cara fumbled for her wallet and insurance card as she explained how she’d ended up scraping Rick’s truck.

  When she set her insurance information down, Sherry patted her hand. “Accidents happen. I’ll call down to Rick and have him take a quick look.”

  While Sherry got a hold of Rick on her cell phone, the bell above the office door jingled again and a tall, dark-haired guy entered.

  Sherry said good-bye to Rick and tapped on her laptop keyboard. “David Wilson, I presume,” she said to the new arrival and gestured toward Cara. “This is your tour mate.”

  Cara put up a hand in greeting. “Cara Markwell, resident whale-watching addict.”

  He turned to her with a crooked smile and raised his hand in response. “David Wilson, whale-watching first timer,” he said, his voice deep and soft.

  When he met her gaze, she was struck by the color of his eyes, which reminded her of mixed shades of green from area forests. A hint of stubble covered his smooth, pink-cheeked face, and his straight white teeth were no doubt the product of braces. She figured he was in his early twenties. His nose was on the slender side and his smile was lopsided, but those oddities somehow added to his appeal.

  Catching herself staring, she tore her gaze away, flustered.

  Her first instinct about guys wasn’t that they were hot or charming, but that they should be avoided. Chris had broken up with her when she wouldn’t sleep with him, then spread rumors that she slept around. And her father had left her mom when he’d gotten her pregnant. Dating wasn’t worth the risks.

  She shook her head and bent over Sherry’s desk to fill out her paperwork.

  “Rick said not to worry about the bumper,” Sherry whispered. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “At least take a copy of this,” Cara said, moving her insurance card on top of her forms.

  Then she slipped out the back door that led to the dock and shut it behind her, as Sherry explained the documentation to David.

  Cara descended the stairs and crinkled her nose at the fishy stench that wafted across the harbor. Seagulls squawked, clamoring over the remains fishermen tossed aside as they cleaned the early catches. Briny sea air misted over her face. She stopped in front of the Lookout, the twenty-six-foot Zodiac-style inflatable boat that floated flush with bumpers against the dock. Its four rows of seats were currently empty, three in front and one behind the center console, where Captain Rick readied the controls.

  Rick came over to her with an outstretched arm. Both his jacket and his tanned, leathery wrinkles matched Sherry’s. “No worries about the bumper, kiddo.”

  She started to object, but he shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  His booming voice made her smile.

  “I’m really sorry about your truck. And I’m glad you’re doing a tour. I know you like to have at least two paying customers.”

  He took her elbow to help her aboard. “Nah, you know me. I’d go out anyway. How was Seattle?”

  “The orcas were fun,” she said, stepping into the giant raft. “But I miss the grays.”


  She’d just slipped her arms into a life jacket when he pulled her into a sideways hug. “And I’m sure they’ve missed you. I have, too. It’s not the same without my first mate.” He gave her a light squeeze, then let her loose. “So, who’s our other crew member today?”

  “A young guy.” She shot him a warning look. “Behave yourself.”

  He gave her a sly smile. “I don’t know. I don’t get many opportunities like this.”

  One pout and he caved.

  “Fine, I’ll behave. But you’re no fun.”

  She chose a seat in the first row, keenly aware of David coming down the stairs and boarding the boat. Rick greeted him and suited him up with a life jacket. Cara dug her cell phone out of her backpack and texted her friend Rachel. Instead of saying, Wish you were here, she keyed in, You’ll wish you’d been here. Rachel didn’t like to go out on the water, but she never turned down an occasion to appreciate an impressive male specimen.

  Rick guided the Lookout out of the harbor and began his spiel on spots they’d visit and marine life in the area. Cara dropped her phone in her pack and swapped it for a camera and binoculars.

  They hit open water and Rick sped up. The boat’s motor buzzed loudly as they bumped across the waves. Cold wind roared in Cara’s ears. From her seat up front, she could barely hear Rick’s voice, but it was no big deal. She’d heard the rundown so many times, she could deliver it herself.

  She snuck a glance behind her. David sat one row back, looking out over the waters of the Pacific. An overcast sky created a dome over the ocean’s rippling surface. No other boats were visible as far as she could see.

  They reached Seagoer’s Cove, and she spotted the heart-shaped spray of a gray whale.

  Rick turned the boat toward the cove and killed the engine. “Grays to the right!” he called out. “Orcas to the left!”

  Cara spun around toward the orcas. Their dorsal fins were tall, black, and triangular, different than the shorter, curved dorsals of the residents she’d seen in the San Juan Islands. These whales—technically dolphins—also looked smaller and sharklike. She knew orcas sometimes traveled along Oregon’s coast, but she’d never seen any in the waters off Liberty.

  Rick pulled out his camera. “I’ll be darned. I’ve only seen these transient orcas show up in spring, not late summer.”

  “I guess I came out on the right day,” she heard David say.

  She lifted the camera from around her neck. Zooming in on the approaching orcas, an odd chill snaked up her spine. She snapped a couple of pictures.

  From the right, a large gray whale slipped underneath the Lookout and surfaced next to the boat’s side. It spyhopped, its giant head rising up out of the dark blue water.

  In a daze, Cara followed David over to kneel before the whale. She watched in awe as David ran a hand over its mottled, slate gray face, next to its baseball-size eye. A low rumble, like a purr, poured from its mouth.

  “Unbelievable,” Cara said.

  She’d gone on dozens of whale-watching tours, but had never before seen a whale spyhop this close. The crisscrossed markings on the back of the large whale’s head told her this was Crossback, a gray she and Rick thought was migrating through the area in late spring, along with her baby, Bobbi. Now that the summer was almost over and the other migrating whales were gone, Cara was delighted to see that the mother and baby had chosen to stay in the area.

  “I can’t believe she’s letting you touch her,” Cara said to David.

  “It’s amazing,” he said.

  She readied her camera and snapped shots of Crossback, and then Bobbi, who poked his smaller head out of the water behind his mother.

  ”What brings you so close today, Crossback?” she asked.

  “You know this whale?” David asked.

  In the excitement of the moment, she ignored the impulse to lean away from him. She inched closer, until her arm brushed his, and spoke in his ear. “This is Crossback. And that’s her baby, Bobbi.”

  She reached out to smooth a hand over Crossback’s face and savored the cold, slippery sensation. An instant later, even though her fingers didn’t touch David’s, a warm tingle tickled her fingertips where they met Crossback’s skin. The warmth trickled up her arm, spread through her chest, and exploded outward, as if along a tether, seemingly toward David.

  With both their hands still touching Crossback, Cara and David turned to look at each other. The intensity of his gaze told her he also sensed the warmth that wrapped around them, the invisible energy radiating between them, connecting them.

  Unsure of what was happening, and just as unsure of how she felt about it, she pulled her hand away from Crossback. She stood, and David did the same. Crossback and Bobbi dipped beneath the surface of the water and disappeared.

  Cara tried to disappear, too, heading back to her seat to stash the camera and binoculars. No way was she going to crush on a tourist. She pulled a diet soda from her backpack, uncapped it, and took a long swig.

  For the rest of the tour, she’d stay by the controls with Rick and try to clear her head. She capped her soda, dropped it in her bag, and turned around.

  Just then she heard a loud thump, and the boat rocked. Off balance, she scrambled to find her footing. Over her shoulder, she spotted shiny black whale skin and two rows of gigantic, cone-shaped white teeth as the orca again bumped the boat.

  Reaching for something to hold on to, she only grasped air as she fell over the Lookout’s side.

  This can’t be happening. The thought played over and over in her mind.

  Frigid water hit her face and chest, lapping at her cheeks and biting her skin. She gasped reflexively, thankful her head was above water. Her breaths came hard and fast as she shivered.

  “I’ll throw you a life ring!” Rick hollered.

  The freezing water pierced Cara’s fingers, and swell after swell washed over her face. Gasping for breath, she choked on a mouthful of seawater. Her life jacket pulled from her arms and sprang up over her head. Somehow, she’d forgotten to fasten it.

  Her arms and legs flailed as she sank beneath the surface. The water was as black as tar, the only visible light shining from a spot above that grew more distant with each second.

  Something bumped her leg. Opening her mouth to scream, a stream of salt water rushed down her throat. Her lungs heaved and demanded air. She pressed her lips together and struggled harder to flap and kick with her heavy limbs.

  From beneath, she was lifted and thrust upward. Above, the muted glow grew brighter. A pair of strong hands reached down and pulled her up.

  As her head cleared the surface, her vision blurred. Her chest convulsed and she coughed, forcing the water she’d inhaled out of her lungs. Salt water burned her throat and nose until she finally drew in long, rasping breaths.

  She caught a glimpse of Crossback’s markings as the gray surfaced for air, then dove back underwater.

  “I got you. We need to get back on the boat,” an urgent yet soothing voice told her.

  David. He’d rested her on top of his life jacket. She looked into his intent green eyes. The water had frozen her to the core, yet a touch of warmth filled her chest. David floated, partially on his back, and held her hands behind his neck.

  “Hold on to me. Don’t let go,” he said.

  She hardly felt her numb fingers as she tried to clasp them together. David moved one of his hands to her lower back and held her to him while he used his other to sling the life ring’s rope over them.

  Rick towed them in. At the same time, a tall, black dorsal fin pierced the water on the other side of the boat. Cara sucked in a painful breath and clasped her hands more tightly around David’s neck. The fin skimmed across the water, away from them, toward the open sea.

  Letting out a weak sigh, she let her head fall against David’s chest. Rick helped them over the side tube. She continued to cling to David as they lay on deck, shaking.

  “That water is barely fifty degrees. I’ll need to get you two in
to some dry clothes.” Rick grabbed the items he needed from the emergency bins under the Lookout’s seats.

  Cara’s teeth chattered and she was too shocked and frozen to protest when Rick removed her clothing until all that remained were her bra and panties. He bundled her up in thermal underwear, thick socks, a stocking cap, and a waterproof jacket, then did the same for David.

  “Don’t you worry,” Rick said, gripping her shoulder. “I radioed for medical help.”

  She exhaled and forgot her concerns about David as she huddled closer to him.

  “You two lie down on deck until we get back,” Rick continued. “Exposure like that can cause heart troubles.” He hurried back to the boat’s controls.

  Seeking extra insulation, Cara wedged her hand between David’s arm and side and slipped a leg between his. He tucked her head under his chin and clutched her to him. No one had ever held her so securely. Her body warmed quickly in his arms.

  TWO

  The Lookout reached the dock beneath Liberty Charters and a frantic Sherry led paramedics to the boat. The medics climbed aboard and separated Cara and David to examine them. Cold seeped back into Cara’s bones.

  She and David were given clear bills of health, but still needed assistance getting off the boat and up the stairs to the office. Cara felt an urge to see if the strange connection between her and David remained, but she resisted the desire to catch his eye. Instead, she took her backpack from Rick and stepped into the restroom.

  Standing in front of the small mirror above the sink, she dropped the blanket that wrapped around her. The thermal underwear was a faded red color that reminded her of dried blood. She pulled off the stocking cap and set it aside.

  Working her fingers through her hair, she fluffed it until it resembled its post-shower condition. She ran water in the sink until it turned tepid, wet her hands, and scrubbed at her face. Color rose in her cheeks.

  The no-makeup look was normal for her, so other than her paler skin and red-rimmed brown eyes, she didn’t look much different than usual. She swept up the blanket and hat, slung her backpack over her arm, and made her way to the break room.

  David sat on the sofa. Sherry sat Cara down next to him, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, and handed her a steaming mug.