Chapter 21: Pull on Three

Signe dropped the boat hook and threw herself across Dane's legs.

She hooked both arms around his belt, and her knees hit the skiff's floor so hard that she saw white.

"I've got you!" she shouted. "Dane, I've got you!"

He could not hear her.

She knew it.

So she put her mouth against his shoulder blade, where the vibration would carry, and counted.

"One."

His back moved under her cheek.

"Two."

Brooke's weight dragged at him, and the skiff heeled until the gunwale was nearly under.

"Three. Pull on three."

She felt him gather himself.

On three he heaved, and she heaved with him, and Brooke came up over the side in her streaming black coat.

All three of them went down in the bottom of the boat in a heap.

For a moment nobody moved, and the float behind them groaned and dropped another foot into the basin.

Signe rolled off the pile and got her hands on the tiller.

"Dane," she said, loud and slow, facing him so he could read it. "Start the engine."

He was coughing.

He stared at her mouth.

Then he reached over, found the pull cord and yanked it twice.

The motor caught on the third try.

She turned the bow toward the pier and opened the throttle.

Behind them the float tore loose from its last chain, turned over once, and went down into the brown water without a sound she could hear.

Brooke lay in the bilge with her black coat soaked through.

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