Read Online Eden's Spell by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heather Graham
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imbedded into the sand, he dropped the rope, the signal for Katrina and Jason to do the same.
For a moment they all fell to the sandâand gasped for breath. But the rain had not relented, and even as Katrina panted, willing her exhausted muscles to work again, there was a hand stretched to her.
Mike.
She took his hand and stumbled back to her feet. Jason, it seemed, was in control now. âCome on!â he called out.
Katrina was proud of him, very proud. He had met it all as a challenge, without complaint. He had to be freezing, clad only in his bathing trunks. And here he was like some adventurer, ready to forge ahead, already running into the trail â¦
âStop him!â Katrina cried out with sudden horror. The palm fronds were touching the ground; she heard a horrendous snapping sound, and knew that somewhere, something larger and heavier than a palm had lost a branch.
Later, she would realize that there was one definite thing she had to appreciate about Mike Taylor. He could assess a situation quickly, without needing explanations.
He was after Jason, like a shot; he was standing above the boy when a whole bunch of coconuts fell like cannons.
Katrina screamed as the pair fell, and rushed to them. âJason!â
Jason crawled out from beneath Mikeâs bulk, white and blanched with horror. âMom!â For that instant he sounded like what he wasâa very frightened little boy.
Katrina fell to her knees at Mikeâs side. Oh, Lord, what if he was unconscious, what if he was ⦠No! She wouldnât think it!
âCaptain Taylor!â She began to toss the coconuts a little madly away from him; then she heard him groan. His eyes opened, then shut instantly again as the rain lashed into them.
âCan you get up?â Katrina pleaded, pulling at his arms.
âYeah, yeah,â he said hoarsely, a frown furrowing his brow.
âCome on, please!â Katrina urged him to take his hands in her own. She didnât know if he was injured; she just knew that they had to find shelter, before something was uprooted completely and trapped them.
âIâm up, Iâm up!â He gasped, and then he was standing, shaking his head slightly. He was wet to the bone, his shirt so thoroughly plastered to his body that he might as well have been bare chested. Katrina could see the sinews there, deep lines and grooves that clearly delineated a well-toned structure, and she felt somewhat better. He couldnât be really hurt; he appeared too powerful to be felled by any storm.
âDown the trail?â he asked suddenly.
Katrina nodded, and then she found that he had an arm around them each, that he was using his body again as a shelter for theirs. And she couldnât protest. She would have allowed anyone to serve as a shield for her son; he was her world. She would have laid her own body over him; Mike would never have let her, and it might well have been right. He had the size and the strength to protect them all.
It was as if the wind knew that they were escaping and was angered by the fact. It began to howl in keening banshee tones, ripping through the foliage with a newfound wrath. The fronds were flying and falling everywhere. Coconuts fell; Katrina screamed as a small mangrove was uprooted before them.
âThe house!â Jason yelled out, and there it was, before them. Built on countless pilings, composed of solid concrete block and stucco and built to withstand the heartiest storm. Whitewashed and welcoming, it was just feet away.
But just then a palm came flying wickedly through the air; it caught Mikeâs shoulder and Katrinaâs midriff with such force that she cried out, doubling over.
âRun ahead!â Mike shouted to Jason, and Katrina found herself in his arms again, staring into his grim features as his hurried strides brought them along the tile path.
Jason pulled open the screen door; it flew off, the hinges breaking like straws.
For a moment they all fell to the sandâand gasped for breath. But the rain had not relented, and even as Katrina panted, willing her exhausted muscles to work again, there was a hand stretched to her.
Mike.
She took his hand and stumbled back to her feet. Jason, it seemed, was in control now. âCome on!â he called out.
Katrina was proud of him, very proud. He had met it all as a challenge, without complaint. He had to be freezing, clad only in his bathing trunks. And here he was like some adventurer, ready to forge ahead, already running into the trail â¦
âStop him!â Katrina cried out with sudden horror. The palm fronds were touching the ground; she heard a horrendous snapping sound, and knew that somewhere, something larger and heavier than a palm had lost a branch.
Later, she would realize that there was one definite thing she had to appreciate about Mike Taylor. He could assess a situation quickly, without needing explanations.
He was after Jason, like a shot; he was standing above the boy when a whole bunch of coconuts fell like cannons.
Katrina screamed as the pair fell, and rushed to them. âJason!â
Jason crawled out from beneath Mikeâs bulk, white and blanched with horror. âMom!â For that instant he sounded like what he wasâa very frightened little boy.
Katrina fell to her knees at Mikeâs side. Oh, Lord, what if he was unconscious, what if he was ⦠No! She wouldnât think it!
âCaptain Taylor!â She began to toss the coconuts a little madly away from him; then she heard him groan. His eyes opened, then shut instantly again as the rain lashed into them.
âCan you get up?â Katrina pleaded, pulling at his arms.
âYeah, yeah,â he said hoarsely, a frown furrowing his brow.
âCome on, please!â Katrina urged him to take his hands in her own. She didnât know if he was injured; she just knew that they had to find shelter, before something was uprooted completely and trapped them.
âIâm up, Iâm up!â He gasped, and then he was standing, shaking his head slightly. He was wet to the bone, his shirt so thoroughly plastered to his body that he might as well have been bare chested. Katrina could see the sinews there, deep lines and grooves that clearly delineated a well-toned structure, and she felt somewhat better. He couldnât be really hurt; he appeared too powerful to be felled by any storm.
âDown the trail?â he asked suddenly.
Katrina nodded, and then she found that he had an arm around them each, that he was using his body again as a shelter for theirs. And she couldnât protest. She would have allowed anyone to serve as a shield for her son; he was her world. She would have laid her own body over him; Mike would never have let her, and it might well have been right. He had the size and the strength to protect them all.
It was as if the wind knew that they were escaping and was angered by the fact. It began to howl in keening banshee tones, ripping through the foliage with a newfound wrath. The fronds were flying and falling everywhere. Coconuts fell; Katrina screamed as a small mangrove was uprooted before them.
âThe house!â Jason yelled out, and there it was, before them. Built on countless pilings, composed of solid concrete block and stucco and built to withstand the heartiest storm. Whitewashed and welcoming, it was just feet away.
But just then a palm came flying wickedly through the air; it caught Mikeâs shoulder and Katrinaâs midriff with such force that she cried out, doubling over.
âRun ahead!â Mike shouted to Jason, and Katrina found herself in his arms again, staring into his grim features as his hurried strides brought them along the tile path.
Jason pulled open the screen door; it flew off, the hinges breaking like straws.
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