“You'll be fine,” Luke told him, hoping he sounded convincing. It looked like the man had some bad burns. He glanced over the rail. Adrenaline pulsed through him. A slick of burning oil covered the ocean.
What sounded like thunder rumbled up from below. There was nothing Luke could do to avoid the blast. He was thrown through the air. The next thing he knew he was hanging from a beam and struggling to breathe. His shirt had twisted with his dog tags and had caught on the timber. Nearly strangling, he sucked in hot air.
Glancing below, he saw a burning ocean. If he pulled himself free, he'd drop and be burned alive. “Help! Someone help!” he tried to call out, but the shirt was so tight around his neck that he could barely make a sound. He caught a sailor's eye, and the man hurried to the rail. The shirt ripped, and Luke dropped slightly. All at once it shredded, breaking the chain that held his dog tags and ripping the shirt from his body. He plunged downward toward the burning sea.
Reaching out blindly, he sought a handhold. Nothing. The next moment he felt heat and took a deep gulp of air before plunging through the flames and beneath the surface. Pushing upward with his arms, he forced himself to stay below the waterline. He opened his eyes. They stung intensely and his skin throbbed. Above, on the surface, all he could see were flames. Fire was everywhere. His lungs screamed for oxygen. I can't die like this! Not like this—cooked in a sea of oil!
Desperate, he sought an opening free of flames and thought he spotted one. It was several yards away. He'd never make it. Pulling with his arms and kicking as hard as he could, he swam toward the haven. His lungs felt as if they would burst. He had to breathe—NOW!
Luke broke through the surface and gulped heated oxygen saturated with oil fumes. He choked and coughed. His throat and lungs felt like fire. He swam in a circle, seeking a way out. He was trapped. At any moment the flames would engulf him.
“Help!” he called, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Help!”
He had no chance. His life would end at Guadalcanal. He turned hurting eyes toward the ship. It sat low in front, enveloped by flames and smoke. Soon it would sink.
Mattie's face hung in his mind. He'd never hold her again, never call her his wife. This is what she'd feared. “I'm sorry, Mattie,” he whispered.
Treading water, his thoughts turned to his family—to Susie, Brian, Laurel, and his mother. He even thought of Ray—who didn't seem so evil at this moment. Luke had never mended the relationship. Now it was too late.
Flames creeped across the surface of the water toward him. He tried to swim away but had no place to go. Fire and oil were everywhere. He searched for a raft and made another feeble plea for help. Paddling in a circle, he sought a way out. Fire burned his face, and he dunked beneath the waves to cool his blistered skin.
There was no escape.
Chapter 19
LUKE IS GONE, MATTIE THOUGHT, AWAKING FROM A FITFUL SLEEP. SHE ADJUSTED a small pillow she'd placed against the train window. Resettling her cheek against it, she watched a white world slide past. The hours and miles since leaving Seattle had not eased her grief. She'd hoped that docking in Seward would bring comfort, that being on Alaskan soil might bring a reprieve from the anguish that gnawed at her insides, but she experienced no reprieve. Alaska may have been home, but changing locations did not relieve her suffering.
I should have married him. Tears burned her eyes. Oh, Luke, I'm so sorry. I loved you. I did. I do. She sniffled and wiped away what seemed like endless tears. I made a terrible mistake. Now it's too late.
She grabbed a handkerchief she'd tucked inside her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes and nose. Not marrying Luke hadn't helped at all. In fact, Mattie was sure it made her sorrow more profound.
She studied a grove of ice-encased trees. Limbs, twisted and tangled, looked like hideous groping creatures—distorted and aching like Mattie's heart. She leaned her face against the cold glass. Life hurt too much. She didn't want to live.
Like a tortured slave, Mattie's anguish remained, seeming to deepen with each passing mile. She thought she knew now what the term “weeping and gnashing of teeth” meant. Nothing existed except the heartache. Like a caged animal, Mattie prowled the car, searching for an escape from her grief. She could not break free of it. Finally she returned to her seat.
Mama, I need you. She envisioned home. It couldn't be far now. Things would be better there. Mattie turned her eyes to the mountains, expecting to find the sense of wonder they'd always brought. Nothing. She felt nothing.
The train slowed, and Mattie watched Palmer move past. It had grown, become a real town. Of course, compared to Seattle it was little more than a hamlet, but for now that was fine with Mattie. She didn't need the restlessness of the city.
Mattie thought about Meryl, who had been so worried about Mattie that she'd wanted to accompany her. It hadn't seemed right to drag Meryl from her life while she sorted out her own. Mattie had insisted she would be fine. Now she wished Meryl were here, helping her to forget.
The train lurched to a stop. Mattie stood, retrieved her bags off the rack above her, and moved down the aisle. She wondered who would meet her. A visit home should have been a joyous occasion. If only this were just a visit like any other. Maybe if I pretend, it will seem so.
Stepping off the train, she glanced about. A man about the same height and weight as Luke and dressed in a navy uniform stood with his back to her. Mattie's heart fluttered. He's alive! The sailor turned. Mattie held her breath. It was someone else. Her emotions tumbled, and the ache inside her swelled.
“Mattie,” someone called.
She turned and saw Celeste striding toward her. Celeste? Mattie hadn't expected her. They hadn't been especially close.
Her blue eyes vibrant as ever, Celeste grabbed Mattie in a bear hug. “How wonderful to see you! We've missed you!”
“I've missed you too,” Mattie managed to say. She spotted Laurel and dropped her bags.
“Mattie!” Laurel said and hurried to her friend, catching her in her arms. “I'm so glad you're here.” They clung to each other.
Mattie felt Laurel's strength and became stronger.
Finally they stepped back and looked at one another. “You look good for a city girl,” Laurel teased.
“I liked the city,” Mattie said and managed a smile.
Laurel's eyes turned serious. “It's good to have you home.” Wiping away a tear, she said, “We've missed you.”
Celeste picked up the bags. “Your mother and grandmother are beside themselves. They're so excited. They've been preparing all week.”
“I can't wait to see them.”
“They would have come, but it's hard for your grandmother to get out so we volunteered to escort you.” Laurel threw an arm around Mattie's shoulders. She gave her a tight squeeze. “Oh, it's so good to have you here.”
“It feels good to be here,” Mattie said, meaning it. She glanced around and was reminded of the many good times she'd had here. It was strange she'd forgotten them.
Laurel's expression was serious. “I know it's hard to believe that something good is going to happen, but don't give up hope. He might be alive.”
“I pray so.”
“I think he is,” Celeste said.
“His ship went down, and he's missing. Where could he be?” Mattie asked, unable to believe.
