Page 9 of There’s Trouble Brewing

Emily pretended to laugh it off, then moved the conversation to talk about the training for the coffee shop while they finished up their meal. Before she knew it, they were ready to go.

The cool night air outside was a welcome relief. As they walked to the parking lot, she noticed the sky was a soft blanket of stars.

She stopped beside her motorcycle and tried to put the pieces of her scattered thoughts back together. Mark stood close, his presence both reassuring and disconcerting at the same time.

“Nice bike,” he observed as he walked around her black and chrome baby. “Have you ever really opened her up?”

His questioned prompted Emily to find a real smile. “You know it.” Then, with a tilt of her head, she probed, “You ride?”

Mark nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Mine’ll leave yours in the dust.”

“You wish,” Emily retorted, letting herself get lost in the banter.

Their dialogue shifted to a debate over the merits of various brands and models, each of them defending the one that they had. Emily felt her anxiety loosen its grip, though it still hovered at the edges of her mind.

By the time they finished, she could feel her exhaustion setting in. She let out a yawn, saying, “I think I need to call it a night.”

He nodded with a smirk. “Training those knuckleheads is going to come bright and early tomorrow morning.”

She mounted her motorcycle and gave a teasing wave. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

She slipped on her helmet and then roared her motorcycle to life. As the distance grew between them, Emilyshot a lingering glance over her shoulder. The uncertainty was still there, even as she rode off into the night, but somehow, Mark made it a little bit better. And that wasn’t nothing. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she didn’t feel like she needed to figure that out at the moment. Instead, she simply wanted to accept his friendship and be grateful for it.

Chapter Four

Mark dived into the lake and relished how the water transformed him. If only for a short time, he forgot the weakness in his leg. He felt almost like he used to. Almost.

His steady rhythm cut through the cool lake water, each stroke smooth and powerful, slicing past the memories that threatened to drown him if he let them. All he wanted was for the water to erase the pain of his past and push Emily out of his mind. Both were easier said than done, though.

She’d been training baristas at the shop all week, and he found himself more and more captivated by her. He did his best not to show it, but it was getting harder every day.

He was on his third lap when a small cry rippled out from the shore. It reached him like an echo from a world he’d left behind. Instantly, he veered toward the sound, his eyes landing on a young, flailing boy. A searing, gut-punch of a memory hit him, the shock of recognition sinking in. He saw his life before the injury come rushing back. Drawing on strength he thought he’d lost, he surgedforward through the water, pushing himself harder than he had in years.

The instincts of a rescuer, once vital to his very existence, took charge. Like a piece of music played countless times, his old training slipped effortlessly into place with reflexive speed. The years seemed to vanish in the splash of his strokes. In an instant, he propelled himself to the boy’s side, reaching him with an urgency he hadn’t felt in forever. Every move was confident and precise as if this very moment had been waiting for him, an echo from another life.

The boy’s cries were shallow gasps now, waterlogged and panicked. But Mark’s solid presence seemed to anchor the child. He spoke calm words of reassurance, telling him everything would be okay. Gathering the boy to him, Mark turned back toward the shore with a conviction that surprised him. He pushed himself as fast as he could swim drawing on the strength and certainty that once defined him.

Mark lifted him from the water with firm arms that refused to let go. He could feel the boy’s thin, trembling frame against his chest. His mind raced even faster than his steps. He couldn’t help but wonder if the boy had been in longer than he’d thought. The urgency of the moment fueled him, and he pushed everything else aside. All that mattered was making it to solid ground.

Water dripped from their bodies, marking a path from danger to safety. He did his best to ignore the pain in his leg, determined to carry them both to the shore as quickly as possible. The last few strides felt like an eternity, but Mark kept going. Every muscle and thought focused on one thing—getting this boy to safety.

Mark wasn’t even sure how long the boy had been struggling in the water or where his parents were, but noneof that mattered right now. Mark forced himself to focus on assessing what to do next.

The boy’s breath was shallow, and his pulse was thready. He worked to revive him and get him stable. When the boy started to come to, Mark was flooded with relief.

“Can I help? I was riding my bike nearby when I saw what happened,” Emily told him as she knelt down beside him on the lake shore.

Mark’s eyes darted over at her with a startled look. Emily seemed to come from nowhere. She was all motion and color, and for a second, it threw him off balance.

Her eyes were bright and focused. “I already called 9-1-1. They should be here in a few minutes.”

Mark nodded, grateful for her help. “Thanks.” Then, glancing around, he asked, “Do you know where the boy’s parents are?”

Then, almost on cue, he heard a wail. A strawberry blonde woman was sprinting toward them, clutching a toddler with her panicked eyes locked on the boy. Emily sprang up and ran to meet her.

“Are you his mom?” Emily asked, breathless. The blonde woman shook her head, fumbling with the baby’s swim diaper. “His aunt, Nicole West Hutton,” she stammered out in shock. “I can’t believe he snuck out while I was tending to my son.”

“Don’t worry, Mark knows what he’s doing. He used to be a swift water rescue officer,” Emily told the other woman, taking her arm and guiding her over to where Mark and the boy were.

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