Wandering Heart (9781101561362) by Katherine Thomas; Spencer Kinkade, Katherine Spencer

breathe?”
    Charlotte nodded but couldn’t speak. He wrapped a heavy gray blanket around her. It smelled moldy, but she felt warmer and snuggled into the folds.
    “You must be in shock. You’re shivering.”
    She finally lifted her head and looked at him. He was about her age, tall and slim with broad shoulders. He had dirty blond hair and a scruffy, unshaven look. His eyes were deep blue, the piercing color of the ocean on a sunny day.
    She tried to answer him, but her stomach lurched and she ended up vomiting. She was so mortified, she wished she could just disappear.
    He didn’t flinch or seem repulsed. “You swallowed a lot of water. About half the ocean, I’d say. Feel any better?”
    “A little … I’m sorry about that,” she mumbled, turning her head away.
    “No problem. Better to get it all up now.”
    She was still embarrassed and shaken to the core. “I-I’m probably in shock,” she stammered. “I feel so … disoriented. As if this is all happening in a dream. Or I’m just acting in a movie …”
    He gently took hold of her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Can you stand? I’ll get you belowdecks. It’s much warmer down there.”
    Charlotte’s legs felt weak, almost like liquid. She wasn’t sure she could make it, but the word “warmer” was a lure. With the stranger’s arm around her waist, supporting her, she came to her feet and stumbled the few steps across the deck and down a short flight of stairs.
    The boat rocked from side to side and the smell of gas from the motor made Charlotte feel sick again, but she fought the urge, distracting herself by looking around the cabin.
    The cabin space was close and rough. There was a small metal sink and counter area tucked near the steps, a wooden bunk on one side, and two small bench seats on the other. Charlotte was seated on one. At least she was out of the wind and rain and a little drier. That was all she cared about now.
    “I’m going to take you to the dock. It’s a short ride,” her rescuer said. “I’m just curious. How did you fall in the water? Were you on a boat?”
    “I was walking on a jetty, on the beach below the inn. It was so stupid of me, really. I slipped on a rock and fell in.”
    He looked amazed at her reply. “I know those rocks. You’re lucky you didn’t crack your head open.”
    “I guess I am.” It was, she thought, just one of the lucky breaks she’d had that day.
    She’d come so close to losing her life and the realization was stunning. Life was so fragile. It could be taken away in an instant, without any warning at all. Charlotte knew she took her life for granted, like most people, feeling as if she would live forever. But that just wasn’t true. She closed her eyes and thanked God again for sparing her.
    Life was so strange. So mysterious. What had led her to this island, to come so close to death today, only to feel the hand of fate pluck her up again?
    Was there some meaning—some lesson she should learn from all this?
    “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
    She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. “I’m okay, thanks. Just tired.”
    “You must be beat. You had the fight of your life out there. Would you like some tea? I think I have a bag or two around here somewhere.” He rummaged through a drawer near the sink and pulled out a tea bag.
    “That would be great. If it isn’t too much trouble.”
    He put a pot of water on a burner and lit it with a match. “It’s just a camp stove. But it does the job.”
    She smelled the Sterno and it reminded her of camping with her family, before her father died. They’d been too poor to take big vacations, but she hadn’t realized that at the time. She thought camping was the best vacation and couldn’t wait for the trip every summer.
    The little boat cabin reminded her of the inside of a tent, rustic but cozy.
    “So what are you doing around here? Are you a guest at the inn?”
    “Not exactly. I’m in a movie. We’re filming