Iris by Chris Keniston

Author:Chris Keniston [Keniston, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie House Publishing
Published: 2019-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Damn, the water was cold as a polar bear’s pool. Unable to see past his fingers, Eric waved his arms, hoping the weighted bag wasn’t dropping any faster than he was. Kicking his feet, pushing as deep as he dared, he slashed at the water again.

Bingo. His fingers caught on something soft and he prayed it was his nephew’s prized possession. Blowing out his last bit of air, he propelled himself upward until he broke the water line, sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and took a good look at Cheetah dangling from his fingers.

“Oh my God,” Iris yelled. “Are you okay?”

“Could be better.” Lunging forward, he swam the short distance to Iris and the kids, tossed Cheetah into the boat and levered himself over after it. “The waters of Antarctica might be warmer.”

“He’s safe. For now. I’m bringing the boat back. We’ll need some blankets and hot liquids,” Iris said.

Whipping his wet shirt off, it took him a moment to realize Iris was on the phone. “I’m okay. The sun will warm me up.”

“The sun isn’t that hot,” she barked back, rummaging through the bench storage. “They should have blankets in here.”

Eric pushed to his feet and crossed to lift anchor. He might not be on death’s doorstep, but she was right about one thing, he needed to warm up a helluva lot more than the late spring sun could do for him.

“Where are you going?” She slammed the bench shut and taking a quick glance at the kids, beat him to the anchor. “Sit.”

“I can—”

“So can I.” She slid out of her lightweight jacket. “It’s not much but put this on your shoulders until we get to shore.”

He didn’t dare say another word. The woman had taken over the situation much like he suspected her grandfather would have. Pulling back on the throttle, she steered the boat away from the cove and across the lake considerably faster than the speed at which they’d arrived. He had to make a considerable effort not to smile at her. The woman was seriously amazing.

“I’m sorry.” Emily moved to sit next to him, her expression not one of sorrow that he’d come to see so often, but of concern. For him.

“Me too.” Gavin climbed into his lap, apparently not caring at all that from the waist down, Eric was sopping wet.

“Me three.”

“You?” Emily asked. “Why?”

“For a lot of things. But for now, let’s make a deal.” He waited for each of the kids to nod. “If something makes you sad, tell me. If someone or something hurts you, tell me. And from now on, we share everything in this family.”

Gavin looked at his soggy Cheetah still lying on the floorboards, climbed out of Eric’s lap, picked it up and handed it to him. “I don’t think we can eat the cookies now.”

“No. I don’t think we can.”

With a child tucked safely under each arm, Eric blew out a sigh of relief, pleased when Iris looked at him over her shoulder and nodded.

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