Mack stood near the grill on Dave’s patio. It was a beautiful Saturday. The sky was blue, not a cloud to be seen, and it was hot but with enough of a breeze to keep it enjoyable, especially with the pool.

Bridgette had taken to the water like a fish. He’d spent over an hour in there with her before he’d ditched, leaving Aisne to entertain their daughter. That hadn’t lasted long. Aisne had gotten out a little later, bundling an angry Bridgette into a towel. He’d have to start saving for a pool. Bridgette would love having one at the house. He’d put it on his list along with the hundred other things he wanted to get for his family.

“So when you guys going to make it official?” Dave flipped a few burgers.

“Soon, I hope.” His gaze skimmed over Aisne’s hand where the engagement ring sparkled. He’d wanted to buy her a larger one, but they’d just left Nana Blues’ farm. They’d barely had enough for rent and food. It’d taken him months of skipping on lunches and walking everywhere he could instead of driving, but he’d scraped together the money. He’d wanted to marry her then, but she hadn’t wanted to spend money on a wedding until they were more financially secure.

A few years later he’d started working construction for Dave and had slowly earned promotion after promotion. Yet, she still wouldn’t set a date. She wanted a picture-book wedding and he understood that but for him, having her commit to him was more important.

“Daddy,” Bridgette tugged on his pants. “Daddy.”

“What do you want, baby?” He bent so he was at her level.

“I want to go swimming.” Her braids and bathing suit were still damp from her earlier swim.

“You and Mommy just got out.”

“That was a looong time ago.” She pursed her lips. “I want to go in again.”

He glanced around the yard. Aisne had already put on her wrapper and was talking to some of the wives of the construction crew. She didn’t look like she was going back into the water anytime soon. She turned, as if sensing his gaze. He nodded in the direction of the pool. She shook her head and pointed to the table that was filled with hot dogs, hamburgers, salads, breads, dessert and other items.

“Mommy said you need to eat first.”

“I’m not hungry.” Bridgette’s lip jutted out in a pout.

“Let’s go fix you something. Then, after you eat, you can swim.”

“I want to go in the pool now.”

“No.” He straightened, taking her hand.

She sighed, sounding so much like her mother he had to fight back a laugh. “I’m going to ask Mom.”

“You do that.” He let go of her hand, and she marched through the crowd toward her mother.

“She certainly loves swimming,” said Dave.

“Yeah, she does.” He turned toward his friend. “How about you? When are you going to settle down and have kids?”

“Me?” Dave pointed at his chest.

“Yeah, you.” He laughed at the expression on Dave’s face.

“Never again. After my divorce, I realized I’m way too young to be married with kids.” Dave shivered with mock horror.

“You’re older than me.”

“You are different, dude. You found the love of your life early.” Dave gazed around his yard, lingering on one bikini clad beauty after the other. “Some of us have to keep looking for Mrs. Right.”

“Oh, the suffering you have to go through.”

“Tell me about it.” Dave turned and grabbed two beers from a cooler by the grill and handed him one.

A gust of wind burst across the patio, sending plates and bottles flying off tables. Mack staggered backward from the force as lighting struck nearby, causing several women to scream.

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“Damn, where did that come from?” Five minutes ago there hadn’t been a cloud. Now, the sky was as dark as if someone had shut off the sun. People hurried to the house as wind rushed over the yard and lightning shattered a nearby tree.

“Everyone, party’s moving inside,” yelled Dave as he turned off the grill and grabbed the cooler.

Mack headed for the house, searching for Aisne. She wasn’t in the crowd on the porch. He caught sight of her turquoise wrapper in the living room and made his way to her. “This is weird. Never saw a storm move in so fast.”

“Where’s Bridgette?” She glanced down to his side.

“I thought you had her.”

“Last time I saw her, she was with you.” Aisne headed for the porch. “Bridgette? Bridgette?”

“She left me to go talk to you.” He pushed through the crowd. “Have you seen my daughter?” He asked everyone as he moved toward the door.

Outside, spikes of lighting brightened the dark sky as trees almost bent from the force of the wind.

“Help! Help!” screamed a woman. “The pool. There’s a child in the pool!”

“No!” It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. He raced to the door along with several guys from the crew.

“Excuse me.” He shoved and pushed, fighting the crowd of people trying to get inside the house. It took forever, every second seeming like an hour. He was stuck in a mass of people laughing and joking about the damn weather while Bridgette was drowning. No, it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. “Out of my way!” He knocked a group of three to the side as he burst onto the patio.

The lady still screamed for help as she fought her way to the water. She was almost to the pool when the wind picked her up off her feet, tossing her toward the porch. She slammed into a table and flipped—feet over head to the concrete. A man raced toward her, running with the wind, his feet barely touching the ground. Mack’s gaze went to the pool. Something small and dark rested at the bottom.

“No. No.” It couldn’t be. “Brigette!”

He moved forward, fighting both the wind and the crowd. Time slowed as his heart slammed in his ears. He’d never get to her in time. He shoved a woman out of his way. Her boyfriend, a big, brute of a man, yelled something and started to step in his path until he realized where Mack was heading and why. The larger man shouted something, but Mack couldn’t hear anything but his heart. She was dying. His daughter was drowning, and he couldn’t get to her. She needed him and he couldn’t help her.

The other man knocked people out of the way, clearing the path to the pool. Mack raced across the patio. The once calm water rolled with turbulent waves, rising and falling, slapping against the sides and overflowing onto the patio. The wind slammed into the big guy, knocking him to his knees. Mack darted around him, diving into the pool. The water, which had been warm earlier, was cold and dark. A wave pushed him to the surface, tossing him farther away from Bridgette. He swam toward her, his mouth filling with water as waves crashed over his head. She was right below him, staring up at him, her eyes unseeing as her braids floated around her like two dark spirals of smoke. He dove for her as a gust of wind whipped up the water like a tsunami, tangling him in its grasp and spitting him out of the pool.

He skidded across the concrete, his clothes tearing. He tried to stand but the wind took his legs out from under him. He pushed to his knees and crawled to the edge. The skin on his fingers tore as he clawed at the concrete. Just a little farther. He had to keep going. The wind shoved at him, but he surged forward, slipping into the pool. He dove again, straight down, away from the waves and the wind and then across, using the bottom to propel himself. His hands skimmed her hair before something hit the water, almost launching him from it. He kicked forward, dodging the large chair that drifted between them. He grasped her hand and swam for the surface, dragging her with him.

He broke free, gasping for air. The waves tugged her downward, but he tightened his grip, yanking her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. The wind slammed into him, knocking him against the wall. He clung to her. He’d die before he let her go. Someone grabbed his arms, trying to take her.

“Let me go!” He wasn’t giving her up.

The hands were back, more of them this time, pulling him from the pool. The large man who’d helped him earlier leaned over them, cocooning them beneath his body as chairs and debris flew across the yard.

He held her close, whispering against her head. “I got you, baby. Wake up, honey. You’re safe now.” But she didn’t move. She didn’t cry. Nothing. There wasn’t even the gentle motion of her chest against his. He had to make her breathe, but he was squished under the other guy. “Move. I have to do CPR.”

“Can’t.” The larger man pushed more firmly down on him as a table slammed into him and then rolled off his back.

Mack shifted his hands, pressing the best he could on her chest. “Breathe, baby. Breathe.”

A moment later the man moved off them. The wind was quiet now. The dark clouds disappeared as if they’d never existed, and the sun shone bright. He loosened his hold, leaning over his daughter. Her face was blue, her brown eyes staring up at him but there was nothing there—no light, no laughter, no Bridgette.

“No. Baby, no.” He pushed on her stomach and water trickled from her lips. “Breathe, baby.” He bent and blew into her mouth, her little chest rising and falling as another set of hands began helping him perform CPR. He checked her throat and then breathed into her mouth again.

Sound came back all at once—people whispering, Aisne crying at his side, her hands clasping at him and her daughter, a siren. Thank God, a siren.

“Breathe. Damn it, Bridgette. Breathe.” He pushed on her chest again, harder this time, desperate. She coughed and gasped, closing her eyes and sucking in air. He almost collapsed on top of her.

“Get back. Give her room,” yelled the large guy as he stood.

Mack brushed Bridgette’s hair from her face. “That’s it, baby, breathe. Breathe for Daddy.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and Mack’s hand dropped away from her head. Streaks of blood tainted the whites of her eyes, and her irises were no longer dark brown, almost black. Now, gold and green sparkled in their depths.