Page 4 of Sometimes You Stay

And into the face of a man she hadn’t seen on the dock before.

He squatted a few feet in front of her, his forearms resting on bent knees. The wrinkle between his eyebrows didn’t detract from the smooth ridge of his nose. And she imagined that without the tight line of his mouth, he might have a nice smile.

“You all right there? That was a nasty fall.”

As soon as she shook her head, she realized she couldn’t stop. Her whole body began to tremble, her teeth chattering.

“You must be freezing.” In a second, he pulled off his yellow flannel overshirt and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling the neck closed beneath her chin.

It didn’t help much. The wind still cut through her, and she couldn’t stop twitching.

“Anyone know her?” he asked over her head, and a lowmumble of uncertainty came from the fishermen who had surely witnessed the whole scene.

His gaze came back to meet hers. “Where are you staying?”

“Char-Char-Char—”

“Charlottetown?”

She nodded.

“Tourist?”

She managed another jerk of her chin, but the rest of her body had gone nearly numb.

“Well, you won’t make it back to—”

Suddenly the giant black body that had leapt at her—and saved her—bounded to their side. His whole body shook, water flying off every piece of fur and coating them both.

The man waved off the beast with a laugh. “Joe. Come on now. Can’t you see the lady’s been through enough?” Then his tone softened as he reached forward and scratched the big head behind its ears. “Good job, boy.”

Finally she turned toward the animal and managed to get a clear look. It wasn’t a bear but nearly as big. And twice as furry, his black hair shaggier than the sheepdogs she’d seen in Scotland. Big black eyes stared back at her above a dark snout. A wad of drool on his jowls joined the water dripping to the ground below.

She would have recoiled if she’d had an ounce of adrenaline left. Instead, her arm decided to give out on her, and she slumped toward the ground. Before her head could connect with the gravel, the man grabbed her shoulder and scooped her to his chest.

“Whoa there.” He stood up slowly. “Let’s get you somewhere warm and dry.”

Two

Finn Chaffey was not in the habit of carrying women—especially ones he hadn’t officially met. One of the many clueless Newfoundland dogs on his farm that didn’t want to go back to where they were supposed to be? That was a regular occurrence. Pretty tourists soaked in harbor water? Not once.

But the moment he had helped her stand, he knew she wasn’t going to make it far. Certainly not the twenty-minute walk to his place on the far side of the three-way intersection, across from the dairy farm. With each hobbling step, she cringed, her shoulders hunching beneath his shirt.

She’d probably twisted her ankle when she fell into the water. After bumping into him.

He’d been too busy reining in Joe Jr.—who was far too excited about their daily walk—to notice her until it was too late. Until she’d bounced off him and gone airborne.

Her predicament wasn’t entirely his responsibility. Just mostly.

Not that he’d have left her to fend for herself even if hehadn’t been at fault. He liked to think he’d have gone in after her if Joe hadn’t been there. The dog couldn’t learn to find a piece of Limburger cheese in an open barn. But underwater rescue was in his blood.

He reached out to give his buddy another head rub, and Joe Jr. was right there, still a little damp despite his energetic shimmy.

The swimmer hadn’t been able to shake off the water as easily, and her whole body continued to shiver.

One steadying hand on her elbow, Finn quickly scanned the scene. Mike and Bobby had returned to their boats, finishing the day’s work. Most of the others were headed in that direction. His truck was at home, and if the girl had a car nearby, her key fob probably wasn’t going to work after that dunking.

He knew one family on Harbourview Drive that wouldn’t balk at him showing up with a half-drowned stranger.

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