She walked down to the jetty once more, though there was no sign of Leah fishing this time. Sitting down and swinging her legs over the end, she wondered what to do. Should she confront her? She was so lost in thought that she didn’t at first register the bright yellow and green catamaran speeding toward her. The boat she’d been hoping to see most of all.
When eventually she did spot it, she jumped to her feet and began to wave her good arm manically, yelling out to the boat. It didn’t matter, it was headed straight for her.
Delight and relief flooded through her like a drug as she saw Jonah’s cheery face behind the windshield. He waved back at her, calling out her name. She’d never been so happy to see a familiar face in her life and she continued to wave excitedly until the boat pulled up alongside the jetty. Before it had even tied up, he hopped out of the boat and landed a few steps away from her.
“Rachel!” Jonah went to wrap her in a hug, but stopped as he saw the sling. “I thought I’d never find you. What happened? Are you okay?”
“Slight argument with a few rocks, nothing serious,” she said, feeling suddenly bashful.
He raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her.
“But Leah pulled me free and has been looking after me. I’m fine, really,” she said.
“I’ll be the judge of that in a minute.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
“Janice and I were worried when we realized the Soleil was missing after the storm and you weren’t at the house . . . I imagined the worst—”
“I should have checked the weather,” she interrupted. “But I’m okay. Though I could do with getting off this island and back to work. I need to report in to my supervisor.”
“So where’s your boat?”
“Um, yeah, well, about that . . .” She kicked at a loose board, too embarrassed to look at him. “I lost power to the motor so I decided to swim it in to shore. Turned out not to have been the smartest decision I’ve ever made.”
“No kidding,” he said, an incredulous expression on his face. “What on earth did you think you were doing?”
Rachel held up her good hand. “It’s okay, I don’t need you to tell me anything I don’t already know.”
“And your arm?” he said, eyeing the sling.
“It’s a little sore,” she admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few days.” She’d never been one to make a fuss about things.
“Yes, well, we’ll see about that. Hello, Leah,” he said, looking past her.
Rachel turned around to see her rescuer coming down the jetty to meet them. She must have heard the sound of the boat.
“I see you’ve found her then,” said Leah.
“We’ve been searching since the storm, but I didn’t think she would have been this far east. It was only on a hunch that we came out this way today. Rachel says you rescued her. That’s very good of you.”
“No more than anyone would have done in the same situation.”
“We’ll take her off your hands now, get that arm looked at properly.”
“Right you are then. Some peace around here would be good,” said Leah brusquely.
Rachel turned to Leah. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. I really am grateful.” She stopped, remembering something. “Oh, I need to get my camera,” she said, rushing past Jonah and Leah and running back to the house.
When she got inside, she went to the living room, found her camera and then saw the copy of Rebecca with the letters hidden between its pages. Before she could think better of it, she slipped it into her coat pocket.
She ran into Leah on her way back.
“Glad they found you, hey?” she asked.
Rachel nodded. “Thank you again, Leah. I’ll come back and see you if I may? Once I get a new boat sorted out.”
“Oh, there’s really no need.”
“Well, I’d like to return the clothes.” Rachel indicated the coat, feeling a twinge of guilt as she remembered what she’d shoved into the pocket.
“No one here was using them; you’re welcome to keep them. No good to anyone else.”
“Well, I’ll come and see you then.” It was a promise she knew she would keep.
To her surprise, Leah leaned forward and engulfed her in a hug. “I suppose that’d be all right,” she said gruffly.
They were interrupted by the blast of the boat’s horn. “Sounds like your bloke’s in a hurry.”
“Oh, he’s not my bloke,”