8
I couldn’t relax. Even when I closed my eyes, my mind raced, desperate for a discovery that would be another step closer to finding Sirena . But I couldn’t shake the question of why here? Why in the barrier islands of South Carolina was there a rumor of a ship linked to Sirena ? None of our research pointed to a link here. Had we missed something? Sirena hadn’t been in a flotilla, or had she? If she had, then wow, my mind was ready to explode.
I was doubly intrigued now, and antsy to get out to the site. I glanced over at Cork. He was scrolling through his phone, lost in whatever he was looking at, which gave me the opportunity to gaze at him. He’d really gotten under my skin, and not in a bad way.
Whenever he was near, my body reacted to him. Aching for skin-to-skin contact of the horizontal kind. Like now, my heart beat quicker and goosebumps rose on my arms with the mere thought.If Gail wasn’t on board, maybe we could’ve joined the mile-high club.
I wanted to be closer to him, and find a reason to touch him, inhale his wonderful scent, and let my mind run wild with sexy thoughts. I was smitten with him. Did I need to be careful about getting too attached, and wonder if there was any kind of possibility for a future for us? Would he jet to far-off lands once he’d had his fill?
I didn’t voice any of my concerns, because this was all so new. There were no expectations, so why was I thinking like a love-struck teenager? But I sure did like the explosive chemistry between us that was ready to detonate. And yes, I so wanted it to detonate!
I felt the plane begin its descent which mercifully switched my thought process. Daydreams could come later. Our mission was almost here, and I was itching to get off the jet and begin. Mission. A cool way of looking at this adventure.
Cork had told me he’d recently invested in a new sustainable eco-resort being built on a nearby island to Love Beach, a project spearheaded by his old friend Beckham Steele. I’d heard of him. One of Beckham’s many endeavours was in environmentally conscious developments, among a variety of other projects. Cork liked the idea of creating something that preserved the island’s natural beauty. Another layer of this complicated man peeled back.
But it wasn’t just the resort that had Cork’s attention. A few weeks ago, Beckham had mentioned an odd bit of information—a story about a centuries-old shipwreck that might be linked to the Sirena del Mar . When he’d told me about it, he’d said he was unsure if it was just a local legend, or possibly something more. So when he suggested a quick trip, partly to escape Gilbert, but also to investigate, I was all in. What if it was another clue in my father’s lifelong quest and one step closer to discovery?
The jet banked sharply on final approach. I watched out the window, relieved to see we’d left the storm behind, but the stain of dark clouds a menacing threat low on the distant horizon.
We landed and Beckham was waiting for us at the tiny airstrip, his face a mask of concern but also determination.
“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” Beckham asked, shaking Cork’s hand.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Cork replied with a wry smile, then nodded toward me. “This is Daisy—a fellow treasure hunter, of sorts.”
Beckham’s sharp gaze took me in, his expression softening. “Welcome. I hear you’re chasing after a long lost galleon.”
“Yep,” I replied, feeling a sudden wave of pressure under his scrutiny. “You mentioned to Cork something about a shipwreck near the barrier island?” There was no point in beating around the bush.
Beckham nodded. “Yeah, locals say there’s something down there—an old wreck, maybe Spanish. Could be connected to what you’re after. We’ve sent divers, but so far, nothing.” He shrugged, then added, “It might just be folklore, but if there’s anything worth finding, it’ll be down there. And now the expert is here we’ll know one way or the other.”
“Then let’s get moving before Gilbert changes his mind about giving us this window of opportunity,” Cork said, his tone clipped.
Time was not on our side.
“The helicopter is waiting,” Beck advised and pointed to it on the tarmac. It was a big one and really, the last thing I wanted to do was fly off in it.
I clutched Cork’s arm, and he faced me. As he leaned down, the scent of him washed over me, stealing away what I was going to say. I looked into his eyes, his hair blew around his face, and my heart could’ve stopped at how amazingly gorgeous he was in that moment.
“What’s up?”His voice was gentle.
“Uhm, nothing. It’s all good.” My gaze flickered to our next ride, then back to him.
His hand covered mine and squeezed gently. “There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get this show on the road and see if we are one step closer to finding your ship.”
I nodded and kept my fingers tight on his arm. His reassurance was what I needed right now. I never liked helicopters.
The flight went quicker than I expected. Once on the ground, and everything loaded into vehicles, we were on our way to the location. Along the way, Cork and I went over the papers Beck gave us, old papers, maps, sticky notes, and scribbles on ripped pieces of paper yellowed with age pressed between sheet protectors. We pored over it all and my heart sank.
“See anything of interest?” Cork’s head was so close to mine his hair fluttered in the breeze, brushing against my cheek. I almost bounced right into his lap when the vehicle ground over the rough road.
“Unfortunately, no. This is all very interesting; however nothing points to the Sirena . But, it’s definitely worth checking out because it’s quite intriguing and could be another unrelated find lurking under the waves.” I gave him a quick smile, then watched the beach flashing by.
“It’s still something we can get excited about, though. A new find. New treasure. You never know.” His voice was encouraging.
“True. I just hope it’s not a waste of a trip. But, you’re right. Especially with the hurricane, and I wouldn’t be able to do any further dives until it passed.” I was conscious I’d emphasized the I.
Finally, we arrived at what was little more than a curved stretch of pristine sand and a few scattered trees and shrubs. Jagged cliffs rose sharply at one end of the crescent beach and waves crashed at the base against rather dangerous looking outcrops that fell away into the water. The rock formations weren’t typical for this area. I examined the topography map. Rocks ringed the cliffs with isolated sea stacks, remnants of what was once a rocky headland worn down by millennia of erosion.
Clearly, it would be treacherous to enter this cove especially centuries ago, before sonar and depths sounder and before the location had been mapped. A little niggle of excitement bloomed inside me. The development on the island had just begun, with a high level focus to protect the surrounding marine life and island flora and fauna; you never know what could turn up. I was always careful when diving, respecting what’s under the waves.
“I think based on the map and notes, we should go in at the end of the beach.” Cork pointed, and I nodded.
“Yes, I think so too.”
It wasn’t long before we had suited up and waded out from the beach. Once the water closed over my head, I relaxed. I loved it down here. It was quiet, comforting; the sound of my breath in the regulator always reminded me of my dad. I glanced to my right, half expecting to see him beside me. Instead, I met Cork’s gaze. It gave me a little shock to see him, which was silly. But sometimes memories of Dad came at the strangest times and transported me back in time.
The bottom was silty, common for this area, and I was eager to explore the rocky area we’d identified. The water was different here, not as warm or as clear as home. But the underwater world was alive with fish, and I felt the current pulling at me. Another flicker of excitement raced through me. Current. Rocks. Waves. Treacherous for navigating, and I focused on the sea bottom. We were only in about thirty feet of water and the sea floor remained level for another twenty feet, then began to get deeper. The closer we got to the outcropping, the more visibility decreased, and the current strengthened. This definitely was a tricky spot to navigate.
Gilbert crossed my mind, and a sense of urgency filled me. I checked my air, and it was still good. I had enough time for some exploring. Cork gave me a thumbs up, which I returned. Then I pointed to where I’d like to start. We dove deeper, and he had his flashlight out, shining it in the crevices of the rocks.
We worked our way along and the going got tougher the closer we were to the opening to the sea. We were buffeted back and forth, and Cork took my hand. He pointed in the direction we just came and I shook my head, wanting to go a little farther.
That’s what usually happened. I’d keep telling myself just another few feet. There could be something buried ahead of us and if we stopped now, it would never be found. Treasure hunting could easily become an obsession, leading to unnecessary risks.
He tugged on my arm and reluctantly I let him guide me back. I don’t know what I was really expecting on this expedition. But I was hoping for something. What if just around the next outcrop was that something? A clue to the Sirena ’s whereabouts.
I scanned the bottom, hoping for an interesting protrusion. We weren’t prepared for a full-scale search though. This was simply a recon trip to see if it was a site of interest. And so far there was nothing encouraging and my hopes dwindled.
Nothing was here. Frustration built inside me like a storm of its own. I knew better than to let this get me down. It took a lot of research, knowledge, and as much as I hated to admit it, luck, to find lost artifacts.
We surfaced.
“It’s a dead end,” I said, my voice flat with disappointment.
Cork’s jaw clenched, and he glanced back at the shore, where Beck waited. “It was worth a shot,” he said, though there was no hiding the dismay in his voice.
We waded through the water back to the beach, where Beckham greeted us with a knowing look. “No luck?”
Cork shook his head. “Nothing. It’s not here.”
“Sorry about that,” Beckham said, genuine sympathy in his tone. “If there’s anything else I can do?—”
“I appreciate it,” Cork replied, his tone tight.
“Beckham, we may not have found anything today, but I’d like to take the papers and maps back home with me if that’s all right. I can do more research.” I looked back at the waves crashing on the rocks. “It seems intriguing to me to have such a comprehensive package of information, spanning years, that it’s possible there is something hiding beneath the waves.” I met his gaze as I took off the tank and unzipped my wetsuit. “But we need to get back to St. William’s.”
“Sure, take the papers. I know they’ll be safe in your hands. Also, we checked the forecast, and it’s best you sit tight for a couple of days.” Beck glanced between us.
“No, really?” This news deflated me.
“Listen, stay on Intrepid , and she’s moored safely in the marina. I’m sure Micki would be thrilled to have guests. Fletch and Robyn are here as well. It can be like a family reunion.” Beck’s smile was wide, and I had to admit the thought of staying on a super yacht was an experience I never thought would happen to me.
I glanced at Cork and raised my eyebrows. He smiled. “You know me, I roll with the flow. It’ll be great to spend time with friends.” He elbowed Beck.
“Good, it’s settled then. Let’s get going.” He glanced at the sky. “I doubt we’ll feel any effects from Gilbert, but there’s no point in hanging around.”
The helicopter flight back to Love Beach was relatively silent. I distracted myself by reading the notes from Beck, but had a hard time focusing. I was suddenly exhausted and my head bobbed. Cork put his arm around me and pulled me close to his side. I didn’t object; in fact, I welcomed it and leaned into him. There was no need for words, and I could barely keep my eyes open. So I didn’t fight it and relaxed into him.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad to let my guard down. To not hang on so tight to be in control. Share the load. He was safe. He was strong. He was … and darkness wrapped its cozy blanket around me.