the log, but her shout of warning was a second too late. She whirled around to get Heather’s attention, but her frantic gestures were futile. Heather never heard her or saw it coming. The next few seconds went by in sickening, slow motion. Heather hit the log and catapulted into the air, the rope flying out beside her. She crashed onto the surface of the water and somersaulted end-over-end as Laurel watched in horror. Then, with a terrific spray of blue-green water, she disappeared. When she resurfaced a few seconds later, time resumed its normal pace, and Laurel’s senses returned. She could hear James shouting at John to turn back. Carrie was screaming. John whipped the boat around and raced back to Heather, reducing speed as they approached her. She was face down in the water, limp and unmoving. When they were close enough, Laurel dove into the water without a second thought, turned Heather over and shouted back, “Someone help me! Hurry! She’s out cold; come help me!”
It was James who dove in and was beside them in a matter of seconds. They kept shouting to her to wake up even as they pulled her toward the boat. Carrie stood with her hands over her mouth, crying in silence. John killed the motor and helped them gently lift her up over the side and lay her flat. Thankful that her dad insisted they all keep their Red Cross training current, Laurel dug deep in her memory and went through the CPR assessment. “Heather, Heather, wake up!” She bent down and listened for breath. “She’s not breathing, but maybe the wind’s just knocked out of her or something.” She gave two rescue breaths.
“Jesus Christ, look at her foot!” James’s voice was low, but his face was pale and his eyes wide with fright. Heather’s foot jutted out at an unnatural angle.
“Never mind that. We’ve got to get her conscious first,” Laurel insisted. James moved up to do two man CPR.
“No,” she ordered in a calm but firm voice. “Does John know CPR?”
“I don’t know,” James answered, momentarily confused. “John?”
“Yeah!” John jumped up.
“Good. John, you help me. James, you know the lake better, so you drive. You remember Carter’s Ford dock — where it is?”
“Just up on the left, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Get us there. They’ve got a phone.”
The men switched places. Laurel was concentrating, her fingers on Heather’s wrist. “I’m getting a pulse; we won’t need compressions.” Carrie let out a sob.
Laurel gave another rescue breath, and there was a convulsive cough. They rolled Heather to her side and water leaked out her mouth.
“That’s good,” Laurel muttered. “She’s breathing now.” She heaved a sigh of relief.
“Almost there,” James shouted from the front. As they approached the dock, John took the wheel while James leapt out and took off toward the building about halfway up the hill. John and Carrie held the boat next to the dock while Laurel continued to monitor Heather for any change. She was breathing but still unconscious. Laurel didn’t dare move her for fear of doing more damage.
James ran back down the dock. “The ambulance is on its way. How is she?”
“No change,” Laurel replied.
John’s calm voice soothed Laurel’s jagged nerves. “You’re right to move her as little as possible. It’s best to let the professionals do that.”
After the ambulance arrived, Laurel and Carrie stepped back out of the way to let the EMTs tend to Heather. Laurel stood watching for a few seconds, her arm around a shaking Carrie, and then turned around to find James pacing back and forth in agitation, muttering to himself, a furious scowl on his face.
Laurel hesitated, but then she approached him, touching him on the arm.
“James, we need to find Stu.”
“What was she thinking?” his voice rough with anguish. “How could she be so careless? She hadn’t been skiing in years!”
“She just didn’t have enough experience to dodge the log, or she saw it too late.”
“I shouldn’t have let her go so fast. I shouldn’t have encouraged her.”
“James, it was an accident. It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head and swore.
“We need to find Ginny and Stu,” she repeated. “Can you take the boat back and look for them?”
A burly EMT with a handlebar moustache approached them. “Ma’am, she’s set to go. She’s stable, and we’ve got the foot immobilized, but she might have a concussion from hitting the water so hard. Who’s going with her to the hospital?”
“Well, that’s her sister over there . . . ” Laurel began.
James