rowboat. “So where are Molly’s folks?”
The kids were far enough away not to have heard their conversation so far, but Jess got up and moved over to sit down beside him—not quite close enough to touch, but close enough to catch his scent. She crossed her legs, Indian-style. “Didn’t want to shout this,” she said, explaining away her motive for getting closer. “Molly’s folks are dead. And she didn’t have any grandmother to take her in. Been in foster care for five years.”
“I know about the foster homes,” he reminded her. “By the way, I knew Molly’s name this morning when you ran interference for me. For future reference, I know all their names. I have one of those photographic memories.”
“Oh,” she said, an embarrassed smile quivering on her lips. “I didn’t know about that.” Spying Larry scooping up water and splashing Moses with it, she shouted, “Hey, cut that out, you guys!”
“Where are their life jackets?” Lucas asked.
Both boys had turned to grin at her and ignored the command completely. Jess frowned. “Life jackets? I—I’m sure they had them on when they went out.” Unease prickled along her spine. “Darned kids. Think they’re invincible.”
Leaping up, she shouted, “And put your life jackets back on! Now, I mean—” Her warning was cut short when Moses, in an attempt to avoid another faceful of cold water, jumped up, then lost his balance. Jess gaped as the teenager, in macabre slow motion, pitched backward over the side of the boat into the frigid water.
“Oh my Lord!” Jess wailed. She flung off her coat as she streaked toward the lake, then with a shallow, running dive, hurled herself into the drink. When she came up, she fought off the shock of the icy water, shouting toward a group of kids who had gathered on the shore. “Throw the cooler! Throw something to help him float!”
As she swam toward Moses, who was not the world’s best swimmer, she heard a plop. Someone had thrown something. She turned to see what it was, and was startled to see Lucas’s computer begin to sink beneath the surface. Shocked, her gaze darted toward shore. Lucas looked angry enough to commit murder.
It didn’t surprise her much when he hurriedly pulled off his boots, ducked out of his wool turtleneck, and dived in. His computer was probably too valuable to lose without a fight, though she would have thought that being dunked in a lake would have ruined it.
Hearing Moses’ strangled shout, she turned back to her rescue attempt. He was too far out to reach with anything from shore. “Grab the boat,” she cried, spitting water. “Larry, put out an oar to him!”
She continued shouting instructions and encouragement between inhaling mouthfuls of water. Her throat was raw, her lungs half flooded, and she was barely a third of the way there. Why did they look like they were getting farther and farther away? Her arms ached but she struggled on, weighed down by her sweater and her hiking boots. She wasn’t the world’s best swimmer, either, especially dragged down by soaked clothing that felt like a twenty-ton block of cement.
She didn’t relish dying this way. But worse, she couldn’t bear the idea of Moses dying on a retreat that was supposed to have been a reward for his initiative and hard work. She made a vow to heaven. People like her father and mother, like her ex and Lucas Brand, could make her feel as mediocre as they wanted, make her feel as lousy and unsuccessful as they pleased, she would pay whatever price Providence required of her—but, Please, please, she prayed, let me reach Moses in time!
8
As Jess struggled toward Moses, coughing and sputtering, she heard a male voice shout, “When I shove you up, grab the opposite side of the boat and swing a leg over.”
She wiped water from her eyes, and squinted. Lucas had reached the rowboat ahead of her. He shouted again. “Larry, get low in the center, and grab Moses’ arm when he comes up over the side.”
Jess began to dog-paddle, watching in confusion. What was Lucas doing out there? Why wasn’t he saving his computer?
He disappeared beneath the surface. After another few seconds she saw a flailing Moses catapulted up and out of the water. He belly flopped over the side of the boat, and immediately swung a leg up and over the gunwale. Larry grabbed Moses by his soggy jacket and hauled him, gagging and spitting, into the bottom of the