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M issy slept fitfully, waking up several times when she heard her father groan. Each time she told him to stay calm, to stay quiet, then explained over and over again what had happened. She knew whenever someone was unconscious that they thought everything was dead and gone. Yet really your mind just didn’t know how to make sense of the new circumstances you found yourself in. So she explained the situation to him each time he woke up, just to keep him calm. He needed all his energy to heal, not to be freaking out and thrashing about. She had to get him through to the point where somebody could come and help them.

She had tried twice to turn on the radio, but nothing worked now. Still, she had to hang on to the hope that somebody was out there looking for her. Hopefully they had heard her voice and would be looking even harder. She sat back, frustrated, and yet, for the first time in days, she was hopeful. Somebody was out there looking for her. She just had to trust him, maybe not for her sake but for her father’s.

He was a well-loved member of the community. She hoped that she was at least considered a part of that community too. As with most communities, they helped each other, and she couldn’t imagine anybody letting them stay out here like this. Still, she also knew that search and rescue would call it quits at some point, if only for the bad weather. She had seen plenty of that. She also realized that any searchers would have a hard time keeping up with the boat and its erratic trajectory. When the boat had gone ashore on this island, she’d been hard-pressed to get them off in one piece.

When the weather had calmed a bit, she went back to the boat and grabbed a few supplies. Ever since then, she watched the boat being slowly destroyed, as the waves tossed it against the rocks. It would break her father’s heart to see it right now, yet he would also understand that a boat really didn’t matter. When the going got rough, what really mattered were the people, and he was a firm believer in people and families and animals.

He’d helped out so many families in town who, for one reason or another, found themselves in difficult circumstances with their animals. He would do surgeries at half price or sometimes for free, just to help them, which was why, when Missy thought about working anywhere else, it had been an immediate no. Her heart and soul were a part of this community. She just needed the chance to give back to it.

It had always been her dream to be at her father’s side, and yet here she was at his side, and he didn’t even know it, which was just another part of the heartbreak she felt right now. They’d lost her mom years ago to breast cancer, and the thought of watching her father die slowly at her side was enough to make Missy tear up immediately. She had to be strong, hanging on as much as she could for her father’s sake. Now Missy couldn’t rouse him again, and it just broke her heart a little bit more.

She stared down at the dead radio, wondering if she should try it again, but she didn’t have the location information to give. All she knew was that she was out here. She’d given the last location she knew, and then the storm had tossed them about, so who the hell knows where that would have taken them? Still, she believed that somebody who knew the area well would find them—or if not one somebody, several.

With a last check on her father, she sat back to eat the last of the rabbit stew that she had made, making sure to share as much as she could with Schooner. He might have been fully capable of looking after himself out here, but she wasn’t about to treat him any differently than he had treated her. He’d been there for her this whole time, and, damn it, she would ensure he survived this nightmare. That poor dog had been to war several times, and even now he wasn’t in the best shape, which is why she was so surprised at his ability to hunt. That had been the saving grace for them, and, with that, she sat back, closed her eyes, and tried to rest again.

Trey was blown away when he heard that panicked, fearful, please somebody be out there voice, but it was definitely a woman, and she’d called herself Missy, so he knew he was on the right track. The panic was evident in the full sentence he heard. Yes, I’m here . He quickly relayed that information to Jackson. Trey was a good 120 miles away from Jackson’s home at this point in time, motoring steadily in the direction she had shared.

The fact that they had been blown off course could mean a lot of things. She could literally be hundreds of miles away, but his instincts always told him to go back to the source, to the last-known location, and take a look at the tides, take a look at just where the ocean could have taken them.

It had been Missy’s voice on the radio, not Silas’s, so that didn’t bode well for her father if she was the one handling the radio. Silas was a radio buff, and everybody knew it. He had short-wave radios all around, definitely connecting to some friends who were almost as crazy about them as he was. But nobody had heard from him since they’d gone out that fateful day. Now at least Trey knew that somebody was still alive out there.

Jackson sent him a text message, which Trey received, which was pretty awesome, considering where he was. Of course Jackson doubted what Trey had reported. Shaking his head, he immediately sent his brother another text. I know what I heard. They’re alive.

With that, he turned off his phone because no point in wasting his battery charge by arguing. That was always one thing Trey could count on about his brother. Jackson never really believed until he had actual proof, but the only proof this time would be finding them, and Trey was more than determined to do that. As it was, trying to find them out in this vast ocean was a needle-in-a-haystack operation for sure. Of anybody in this area, Silas would know that it would be almost impossible to find them unless they had some SOS system, something that somebody could somehow see from far away.

Planes flying overhead were often a great way to do that, but that didn’t mean Missy had any means or was physically capable of garnering attention from above. Just because she answered the radio call or had been on the end of that radio transmission didn’t mean that she was physically capable of doing anything about her situation. Trey had to keep that in mind. He also couldn’t confirm anything about Schooner. Was the War Dog alive? He had no idea. If he could find them, that would be a godsend, and he would have answers then, but right now it was all just guesswork, and he hated that.

Still, he’d been lucky enough to have a natural affinity for this search and rescue business—or at least good luck. He was quite happy to be out here, alone, doing something to help somebody else. The fact that three lives were at stake made it that much more important. Plus, knowing the people involved was something else altogether.

Remembering the radio transmission about their location before the storm, Trey checked his maps and realized he was pretty close to their original location, at least their original intended location. Of course, that was always the challenge. It was impossible to know if they changed locations and had gone somewhere else. With Silas being a crazy fisherman, it was hard to say where and what decision Silas Ragner would have made, but, if the fishing was no good, he may very well have headed someplace else. At that thought, Trey quickly turned on his phone to send a text to Jackson, asking for Silas’s favorite fishing haunts.

It took a moment for his brother to answer, but he gave him a list of three others. Trey studied those on his map and then nodded. That brought back memories of some of Silas’s personal fishing spots that he shared with only his inner circle. Trey ticked off all six and found them not too far from his current location.

As it was, one was relatively close to here and would make sense that Silas detoured over there, especially if the fishing at their intended destination was no good. Silas might very well have made an executive decision to try another spot. Trey did a slow search around this point, checking all the rocks, nooks, and crannies, shutting down the motor and calling out over the building wind, using a boat horn to try and raise as much noise as he could.

Even after that, he wasn’t sure most of it could be heard over the gathering wind. They may have heard it, but that didn’t mean anybody was capable of coming to shore. If they were there, this would be one of the things that would bring them into sight. Everybody, if they had the ability, would stay somewhere close where they could be seen, but he saw absolutely nothing as he moved around the rocky corners, checking out the nooks and crannies, looking high up onto the rocks in the back. He found no sign of the boat, no sign of people, no sign of them anywhere.

Frowning, and yet knowing that this was just the start of what could be potentially a very long day, he checked his maps and then carried on toward the next rock. With no luck there, he headed out to the next island, which also wasn’t very far away. As he came closer, he realized that dusk was already settling in, and he would have to make a decision about a safe place to spend the night. He checked the bays, and one in particular up ahead looked decent. It appeared to be out of the wind. Plus, if any storm should come up in the night, his anchor should hold.

There was no point in continuing to run around like crazy if he couldn’t see what he was looking for. He pulled into the next small inlet, chugging along slowly and checking out the area around him. He hit the old fog horn again, letting that deep, low sound blast out into the air, hopefully causing somebody somewhere to wake up and to move. Just as he was about to row past one of the rocky crags, a dog’s head appeared above the rock, and he started to bark like crazy.

“Well damn,” Trey muttered, as he immediately changed course, found a place to pull into a spot close enough that he could drop anchor, yet not close enough that he could hop his way over to the rocks without pulling out the dingy. Knowing he might need the dingy anyway, he quickly got it into the water, then, battling against the growing wind, moved the short distance toward shore. As he got there, the dog met him, his tail wagging like crazy.

Trey immediately spent a minute greeting the dog, physically checking him out and realizing that this most likely was Schooner. “Hey, Schooner. How’re you doing, boy?”

Hearing his name, the dog went ballistic and started to jump up and around, trying to knock him down to the ground, so Schooner could shower Trey with love. He gave the dog a couple good cuddles. “Okay, now take me back to Silas and Missy.”

With that, the dog bolted forward into the area just up ahead. Trey followed quickly, his medical bag on his back. As he got around the corner, he couldn’t see anything, and his heart dropped. The dog was sitting off to the side. He called him over, and the dog came immediately, willing to do anything to keep the man here. Just as Trey wandered around, his flashlight out, trying to find something in the dark, Trey heard someone.

“Hello?”

He immediately raced toward the sound, and, sure enough, there was a young woman, all bundled up under blankets, wrapped around what looked to be another human form. “Missy?” he asked.

“Oh my God,” she said, bolting up and staring at him. “Oh my God, oh my God.” Without warning, she threw herself into his arms.

He held her close and whispered, “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re found.”

“Oh my God, thank God, thank God,” she whispered. “My father, he’s hurt. He’s hurt bad.”

“Right,” Trey noted, peeling himself off her. “Let me have a look.” As she shifted out of the way, he handed her his flashlight and said, “Hold this for me. What happened to him?”

“He was trying to secure the boom when he got thrown overboard. He went into rough seas. I think the boat hit him alongside the head,” she explained. “Then, when I tried to get him back on board again, he took a heavy beating from the boom.”

“Right.” Any head injury wasn’t fun, but out here it was almost a death sentence. Trey looked over at her, studying her closely. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, “a little dehydrated, a little exhausted, and terrified of my father’s condition.”

“Right, okay.” He took a look around and stated, “We’ll have to spend the night here.”

“No, no, no,” she cried out hysterically. “We can’t. We can’t stay here. He hasn’t got another night.” Trey eyed her sharply, and she shook her head. “He’s been like this for days.”

He nodded. “In that case, hang on. Let me try my phone.” When he had trouble with that, he spoke to her calmly. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll head to my boat and see if I can raise some help on the radio.”

She asked, “You have a boat?”

He nodded. “I do, and, yes, I can get you on it, where it’s warm and dry, but I do want to ensure that we can get somebody in here to help your dad. For that, we’ll need search and rescue, depending on the weather.”

She shivered. “Seems as if it’s always the weather,” she muttered.

He nodded. “Out in locations such as this, it absolutely is.” He looked down at the injured man, frowned, then looked back at the dog. “What do you think, Schooner?” Schooner barked several times, and he nodded. “Right, got it.”

“What do you mean, got it ?” she asked, looking at him funny.

He smiled. “I asked for Schooner’s opinion, and he gave it to me.”

She laughed. “He’s kept us alive out here, so anything he says goes, as far as I’m concerned.”

“He’s a damn good dog,” Trey declared. “As a War Dog, he’s been well trained.”

He headed back to the boat and tried to raise somebody on the radio, but the wind had picked up, and all he got was static. He sent out an SOS and sent several text messages to Jackson, hoping that something would get through. The fact that he’d found the three of them was huge, but he still had to get them back to the boat, back to safety. Those presented some issues he wouldn’t solve all at once. So, getting them onto the boat would have to do for now, and then he would find a safer place to lodge for the night.

With that plan in mind, he made several trips in the little dingy. With a great deal of effort, Trey got Silas up into the boat. Trey had bumped Silas a couple times on the way, but there was no help for it. In these situations, you did what you had to. With Missy coming up behind, he soon had all three of them on board, including Schooner, who’d had a little trouble jumping from the dingy up onto the boat. No way he would be left behind.

Once Trey had his new guests ensconced below the deck, he put on the kettle and made her a hot cup of tea. Then laid out food for her and a bowl for Schooner. He made some sandwiches for them all. She fed Schooner her meal before sitting back and huddling over her tea. Schooner emptied his bowl and asked for more.

“I need to brace for the current, and we should move to a better location, with the heavy winds coming.”

She looked at him and nodded. “I would really love to get home tonight.”

“You might love it,” he replied, with a bit of warning, “but I can’t change the course of the weather conditions out here. We can only do so much.”

“Of course,” she muttered, huddling deeper, but casting a worried glance at her father.

“I’ve hailed the Coast Guard on the radio,” he shared, “and I’ve got an SOS out. My brother knows that I found you three.”

“You’re sure they know?”

“My brother knows that I’d made radio contact, and I sent texts that I’d found you after that,” he explained. “Now it’s a matter of making sure we can get some place where they can get to us.”

“Right,” she said.

He could tell that the fatigue and the cold had taken its toll on Missy, as well as all the days out here without much in the way of provisions. “We’ll do the best we can.”

And, with that, he headed topside, checking on the weather. It was definitely rising, but if he could get a little bit farther south, he might make it back tonight. With Silas and Missy safely below, and the dog sitting beside Trey, he pulled anchor and immediately turned on the motors, heading toward home. He knew of a couple nice little bays where he might rest, waiting for the worst of the storms to pass, or he could possibly make it straight home again. The fact remained that he couldn’t count on that entirely. All he could do was the best that he had to offer, and sometimes Mother Nature just wouldn’t cooperate.