Still Waters. Shirlee McCoy

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СКАЧАТЬ and walked to the end. The sun had yet to warm the wooden planks and she shivered as she lowered herself onto the smooth wood. With her feet dangling over the water, Tiffany stared out across the lake. For as long as she could remember, her soul had been stirred by its beauty, her mind awed by the power and artistry of the Creator who had made it. Often, in the earliest hours of the morning, she would come to pray and to listen. More often than not, she left feeling renewed and at peace.

      Today, however, would not be one of those days.

      The ebb and flow of the lake seemed to mirror Tiffany’s life—steady, placid, even keel. She supposed she should feel thankful that she could make the comparison, but somehow the knowledge stoked rather than soothed her irritation.

      The past year had brought a boom in her computer maintenance business, a solid relationship with Brian and the loss of most of the thirty pounds she’d put on since college. It seemed to Tiffany that there wasn’t a whole lot more she could want out of life, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing out on something important, something vital to her happiness.

      With a disgruntled sigh, Tiffany rose to her feet. Discontent had been her unwelcome companion for more months than she cared to admit. She refused to dwell on it; refused to admit that the cause could be anything other than frustration with her failure to lose the last stubborn pounds of her postcollege weight.

      Besides, Brian was waiting and if Tiffany didn’t hurry, he’d be late to his prayer meeting. As Lakeview’s newest physician, he had a reputation to uphold. Or so he’d told Tiffany on more than one occasion.

      A motor purred to life in the distance. The deep throb of heavy metal music followed close behind, a hostile intrusion on the tranquillity of the morning. Surprised, Tiffany scanned the water and spotted a red speedboat as it rounded a curve in the lake. Several people stood in the helm of the boat, something large and black wiggling between them. She squinted, trying to make out the details, and decided they had either a large dog or a small horse on board. Whatever it was, it didn’t want to be there.

      Apparently the people in the boat didn’t want it there, either. As they approached the center of the lake they heaved the struggling animal up and over the side. A terrified howl rent the air and was abruptly cut off as the dog hit the water. Shocked, Tiffany watched as the boat U-turned, disappearing the way it had come.

      In the wake of the retreating vehicle the dog sank beneath the water, then surfaced again. Though it was quite a ways out, Tiffany figured the animal could make it to shore. At least she hoped it could. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to abandon it. She stood on the dock, watching the dog’s progress and silently cheering it on.

      It only took a minute to realize the dog couldn’t swim. His head bobbed for a moment, slid beneath the surface of the lake, then popped back into view. Tiffany watched as his paws paddled frantically against the water, the black head sinking again and again. Unwilling to let him drown, she kicked off her shoes and dove into the water.

      Sheriff Jake Reed bit back a curse and slammed on the brakes, bringing his truck to a screeching halt yards from where the woman had disappeared into the water. Adrenaline lent speed to his movements as he threw open the truck door and raced across the grassy slope to the dock. He’d seen rescue attempts like this one before; seen good-hearted people trying to save a life only to find themselves in trouble.

      Or worse.

      Jake had no intention of letting that happen this time. Not if he could help it. He ran across the dock, shouting a warning to the woman as he went. She didn’t pause, just continued her swift, steady progress toward danger. Jake marked her location, and dove into morning-cool water. The rhythm of the swim came slowly, Jake’s muscles protesting the cold. He ignored the discomfort and forced himself to greater speed, the urgency that propelled him forward warning him that time was running out.

      Tiffany circled behind the thrashing animal, grasped him under the forelegs and attempted to tug him toward shore. He strained against her hold, the force of his movements pushing Tiffany beneath the surface. Coughing, gasping for breath she struggled back up for air only to be pushed down again. Darkness swirled behind her eyes and she fought against it, pushing against the dog, against the water, and against the strange lethargy that made her want to sink deeper into the lake’s cool embrace.

      Then something snagged the back of her shirt, pulling her up and over. She gasped and choked, coughing up water and sucking in air as an arm snaked around her waist and tugged her upright.

      “Don’t struggle. I’ve got you.”

      The deep voice penetrated Tiffany’s panic, pulling her from the edge of darkness. She let herself go lax; let herself lean against the hard chest of the man who held her. Tiny shivers coursed along her spine as she struggled to calm her frantic breathing.

      “Are you okay?” The words rumbled against Tiffany’s hair and she nodded, forcing herself to respond though she barely had the energy to move.

      “I’m fine.”

      “Good. Let’s get back to shore.”

      “What about the dog?”

      The man stilled, his arm tightening a fraction around Tiffany’s waist. She thought for sure he’d lecture her, tell her how foolish she was. Instead he sighed. “Do you think you can tread water for a minute?”

      “Yes.” Tiffany hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

      “Good. I think we can use my belt to tow the dog in, but if he tries to use you as a raft again we let him loose and he fends for himself.”

      “All right.”

      The arm around Tiffany’s waist slid away and she slipped deeper into the water, barely keeping herself from going under. A few yards away, the dog splashed and wailed, his heavy body sinking again and again. Tiffany shuddered as she watched, picturing her own struggle just moments before.

      Water lapped at her back, but Tiffany didn’t have the energy to turn and face her rescuer. Instead she waited, her movements clumsy and disjointed as she tried to stay afloat. When a hard arm wrapped around her waist, she sighed with relief, leaning into the support that was offered.

      “Okay. We’re set. Hold this.”

      A belt slithered over Tiffany’s shoulder and she grabbed it, eyeing the thin leather skeptically. “Do you plan to lasso him?”

      “No. I’m hoping to use it as a tow line. If we can get the mutt to bite down on it, we might be able to haul him in.”

      “Okay.”

      “Call the dog. See if you can get him closer. Then toss the belt out.”

      Tiffany did as she was asked, whistling and calling the panicked animal. Somehow he seemed to sense her intent and moved toward them, velvety brown gaze fixed on Tiffany. With a whispered prayer she tossed out the belt, reeled it back in and tossed it out again. The third time the dog surged forward, biting down on the belt and tugging with enough force to pull Tiffany against the arm that held her. She swallowed down a fit of coughing and held on tight. “Got him.”

      “Good. You hold the belt. I’ll do everything else.”

      Tiffany didn’t argue. She didn’t have the energy to. Instead she allowed herself to be tugged toward shore.

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