Sea of Christmas Miracles Read Online Free PDF Page A

out the correct signals to get him moving toward
shore. The white-capped waves buffeted him around, negating much of
his progress.
    Thomas tried as hard as he could, but the
edges of his world were turning gray and there didn’t seem to be
anything he could do about it. He tried thinking of his family. Of
how devastated they would be when they heard of his death. Of how
he should have planned to go home for Christmas. Tomorrow was
Christmas Eve. They’d all gather in the parlor, his mother and
father, his sister Merry and her brood.
    Then his disoriented thoughts wondered to the
woman he was towing. Margaret Howe Lewis. She was a strange one.
Desperate and impassioned. About what he didn’t know. Whatever her
cause. Whatever the reason she’d kidnapped him, he’d never know.
Just like he’d never see those full lips smile. He’d never kiss
them.
    Inexplicably the thought saddened him. It
made him almost as sad as never seeing his family again. Foolish.
Foolish. His mind was leaving him. Just like his arms and legs
already had. He tried to tighten his grip but wasn’t even certain
he was still dragging Margaret with him.
    He couldn’t go any farther.
    The water felt warm... almost soothing. Like
when he was a boy and floated on his back in the blue-green waters
beyond the breakers. He’d stare up at the clouds and imagine he was
drifting up. Now he’d drift up with Margaret. Maybe he’d see her
smile then. Maybe....
    “God’s blood, boy, you’re almost there. A
Blackstone doesn’t give up.”
    “What?” Thomas jerked his eyes open, when he
heard the voice again. The same one that had told him to reach out
to find Margaret. Gone was the warm water and the comfortable, safe
feeling. His arms and legs were so cold, they burned and he was
fighting a cruel and unforgiving sea. “Who’s there? Who said that?”
Thomas used precious strength to yell into the storm. The only
response was the howling of the wind, the roar of the sea.
    He didn’t think he’d ever been so angry. How
dare someone yell at him like that and make him go through this
torture. He should—“Ouch! Damn it!” Thomas’s knee hit something
hard that sent pain searing through his body. When his free hand
flailed out he encountered sand. The shore! He didn’t think he had
the strength to stand, but after crawling forward, he managed to
push to his feet.
    And Margaret was with him. Thomas dragged her
onto the beach, pulling her far enough so that she was out of the
pounding surf. But the rain still pelted both of them.
    “Margaret!” Thomas dropped to his knees in
the sand. Her face was ashen in the surreal light of the storm.
Thomas brushed aside the strands of sodden hair and bent close,
listening for her breathing. He could hear nothing.
    “Margaret,” he yelled her name again, cursing
the storm and the woman, rolling her onto her stomach with hands
that were numb with cold. “Margaret.” He kept calling her name as
he pushed on her ribs. Over and over again. “Damn it, Margaret,
wake up!”
    When she started coughing he didn’t think
he’d ever heard a sweeter sound. “Oh God, Maggie.” He twisted her
around bending her over his arm. Hugging her lithe body to his when
she finally stopped retching up seawater.
    Her eyes were large and dazed as she looked
at him. She’d lost the spectacles during their ordeal. “Cold,” she
mumbled before shivers consumed her.
    What was he thinking? They might have
survived the sea, but they were far from safe. They were both
soaked to the skin, and freezing. If he didn’t find them some
shelter, they would surely die of exposure.
    But there was nothing. Nothing.
    Thomas staggered to his feet, squinting
through the rain. Perhaps under the trees—Lightning again sizzled
the air. He stopped and stared hard. It wasn’t possible, but he
thought he saw...
    Scooping up Margaret he stumbled forward. It
had to be a mirage. They couldn’t be so lucky as to come ashore
near a small cabin. But as he